Chapter Nine

Despite his nervousness, Severus managed not to pounce on Hermione the moment she stepped out of the Floo. He'd given her time to unpack the essentials they would need until Poppy deemed the baby strong enough to go home, allowed her to visit with Minerva while he put the little one down for a nap. But now he had her all to himself, with no distractions, and at least an hour before lunch. Plenty of time to discuss the situation and put both their minds at ease...if only he could find the words to begin.

"You know, dearest." His wife's gentle touch against his hand spread warmth through him. "It is usually best to start as you mean to go on."

He glanced at her, finding strength in her soft smile and compassionate eyes. With a determined sigh, he shifted into the corner of the sofa, turning so neither would have to strain to see or hear the other. "I've been thinking about your suggestion concerning the baby."

Hermione brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, her molten chocolate eyes filled with such expectancy, his resolve nearly crumbled. "I thought as much."

He picked up her hand, interlocking their fingers, and brought it to his lips. He closed his eyes, relishing the softness of her skin. Merlin, how he wished he could give in. Let go and agree to her solution. But he couldn't. Not until every doubt had been erased. Until Minerva's assurances had corroborating evidence of some kind, offered in his wife's honest voice. "Why, love? Why do you want this little girl?"

Cupping her husband's face, Hermione weighed the question with more care than any asked by the members of the Wizarding Examinations Authority on the dastardly Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test. The words had to be perfect, the answer going as deep as the emotions swirling inside the man. He deserved the truth. The twining of their souls demanded honesty. And while the reply was as simple and clear as the instructions for brewing a first-year's Forgetfulness Potion, he would need all the proof carefully strung syllables could offer.

"Because." She brushed her thumb back and forth across the apple of his cheek. "I want to give her the kind of childhood I couldn't give you."

He blinked, confusion settling like cataracts against the midnight depths of his eyes. "The kind of childhood you couldn't give me? Hermione, you weren't even born when my parents married, much less..."

She stoppered his words with a press of her fingertips to his lips. "But if I could, I would go back and erase every scar, every hurt, every horrifying nightmare." She fought to keep her chin from quivering as understanding backlit his ebony gaze. "However, since such time travel is not only forbidden but extremely illogical, rescuing this baby...loving her the way Ronald and her mother never could...is the next best thing. It's a way to honor your sacrifice, love." Despite her best efforts, her lips trembled and her voice caught. "It's a way to help you heal, to help us both heal from the ravages of the past."

"Hermione."

An upward quirk of her mouth silenced him. "I want to do this, Severus." She searched his face, looking for any hint of agreement, but all she found was the lingering shadow of skepticism. "We need to do this." She leaned closer, breathing in the exotic aroma of his cologne mixed with the tang of his uncertainty. "For her." She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "For us." She brushed her lips across the bridge of his nose. "For our other children." She swallowed his gasp of relief. So that was what he was worried about, her brain registered as he deepened the kiss. That I wouldn't want more children, his children. She smiled against his lips. "Silly man," she whispered, then assured him silently that nothing could be farther from the truth.

For the longest moment, they were the only two beings in the universe. Lips touching. Tongues tasting. Minds uniting. Finally, the basic need for air nudged them apart, but only far enough for the much needed exchange of carbon dioxide for oxygen to occur.

"I'll contact Poppy and Minerva," Severus breathed. He kissed the tip of his bride's nose. "Thanks to a minor mishap in Hooch's flying class last evening, Poppy hasn't had a chance to send the paperwork to the Ministry."

Hermione smiled as she shifted enough to rest her head against his chest, the rhythmic thrum of his heart soothing the frayed nerves that came with her sudden re-emersion into the magical world. "Good. The less extraneous forms needed, the better."

The hum of her husband's agreement vibrated her senses in the most delicious way. "Less questions raised than if she were required to send an addendum." His breath stirred her curls. "As far as the Ministry and Her Majesty's government is concerned, the dear little one is ours."

"She was ours the minute we lifted her from the rubbish heap, Severus."

She could hear his smile in his soft intake of air and the slight tightening of his embrace. "Indeed she was."

SSHGSSHG

"I, for one, think you've made the right decision." Poppy removed the stack of forms from in front of Hermione and Severus. "That child deserves the chance you two are giving her."

"Hear, hear." Minerva kissed the tiny infant's forehead and adjusted her to a more comfortable position in her arms. "It's been quite some time since we've had a wee one to spoil." She settled into the rocking chair a few of the house-elves had wrestled into their former quarters. "House-elves are already plotting for her next visit, if we fail to persuade her parents to go ahead and return to Hogwarts a few months early."

"Minerva," Severus sighed. "We've been over this before. Hermione and I are perfectly happy in London. She's in the middle of her final round of clinicals. We are only half-way through the Ministry requirements to have our Floo connected to the network; therefore..."

Hermione laid her hand on her husband's arm, amused that he was using the very arguments she given him not six weeks before. "We'll consider it, Minerva. Thank you for the offer."

The headmistress grinned, a small twinkle bordering on triumph sparked in her eyes. "That's all anyone can ask, m'dear." She started a soft melodic hum, the creak of the rocker carrying the background rhythm gently.

Idyllic didn't begin to describe the picture the elderly witch and newborn painted. Serene, honest, and filled with unconditional love, it was the perfect portrayal of grandmother and beloved grandchild.

And it absolutely pierced a raw wound in Hermione's heart.

This wonderful little girl would never know that kind of acceptance from her Muggle relations. The tethers between Hermione and her parents remained tenuous, fragile. To suddenly present them with a grandchild they weren't expecting might just sever the cord completely. Especially since she knew she could never trust them with the truth despite Severus' willingness to tell them the whole story. Most likely, explaining the circumstances surrounding their daughter's birth and discovery would only widen the chasm anyway.

Whether it was the repercussions of the Memory Charms and their reversal or their refusal to accept she could never respect their wishes and return fully to the their world, they had changed. In some ways they were just as prejudiced as the most stereotypical Slytherin she'd ever encountered. No, it was better to leave them in the dark as long as possible, then deal with the consequences after.

Another glance at her former Head of House cuddling her daughter, and Hermione's spirit tipped a little more toward the melancholy. She wanted her children to have the kind of relationship with their grandparents that she'd had with hers before they passed on. I guess that isn't something we'll be able to give her.

"Yes, it is, love." She shivered slightly as her husband's breath tickled the shell of her ear. "Just look at the two of them, Hermione. Our little one, and those to follow, have all the love any child could ever need right here in this room."

Hermione sniffed softly and wiped discreetly at the tears clinging precariously to her lower lashes. "You're right, dearest." She leaned over and touched her lips to his. "You are positively right."

"Of course he is." Poppy patted her shoulder, then placed one more document on the table in front of them. "And now that we've established that, the little lady is lacking only one thing."

Severus' brow furrowed into a familiar scowl. "What is that, madam?"

Poppy smirked. "Why, a name, of course."