Rowan's Heart Chapter 1
OKAY, I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED WITH THE EXCHANGE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED ON, BUT IT WAS A SHAME TO LET THIS PIECE STAY UNPOSTED :) MARIE, THIS IS FOR YOU. I HOPE IT FULFILLS YOUR REQUEST! :)
Title: Rowan’s Heart
Written For: nriveraortiz (Marie!)
Rating: R
Pairing: mentions of HHr ultimately DHr
Disclaimer: JK Rowling is a wonderful writer… so who wrote that darn epilogue? Characters (except for Rowan) and setting not mine.
Summary: It’s been five years since their eighth year ended and Hermione has a secret she needs to let out of the closet.
CHAPTER 1
-0-
The sky had just begun to lighten and the first rooster's cry pierced through her consciousness. It seemed like a typical day in the quiet English hamlet where she had lived for five years.
Green.
She had always associated the color with him. She looked up its meaning on the internet and it fit him perfectly. According to Wikipedia:
"The word green is closely related to the Old English verb growan, "to grow". Sometimes it can also describe someone who is inexperienced, jealous, or sick. Culturally, green has broad and sometimes contradictory meanings. In some cultures, green symbolizes hope and growth, while in others, it is associated with death, sickness, envy or the devil"
So many contradictions… but had he ever been totally black and white? His whole life had always been about shades of grey. People had looked at him and seen one thing… but only the ones who knew him best could see the true man, for he was not a boy for much of his life, underneath the façade he presented to the world.
Five years ago, she had been one of those people who knew him best. Before everything fell apart, she was that one person in his life he could count on. Did he have another now? Someone else to soothe his fears and listen to his rants?
She drew a crooked crimson line on her lips with a shaky hand as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Five years, had it really been that long?
Could it have really been five whole years since the last time she had seen him?
She looked behind her at the velvet-bound tome resting quietly on the mahogany table behind her, mocking her with the secrets she had placed inside. Secrets that were soon going to be revealed for both their sakes… and for the sake of the most precious gift she had ever received in her life.
She turned slightly to reach a hand out to caress the cover but drew back at the last moment when the sound of an opening door reached her ears.
"Mum?" her daughter's tiny voice reached out to her and she moved her lips in a semblance of a smile as she diverted her attention from the journal on her night table to her tiny, perfect daughter.
Rowan.
She had thought about growan for awhile, but she wasn't a cruel mother. Rowan was a good name for her daughter. Even if it meant "little redhead"… she hoped her father wouldn't mind once he found about her existence. He was the ultimate inspiration behind their child's name anyway.
Rowan's eyes were a little slanted, which made it seem like she was forever plotting mischief… she loved to laugh and talk to her mother… she loved to read and make up her own stories to the characters she encountered.
She was also the image of her father.
"Mummy? I want to go with you to 'Oogwarts, please? I promise to be good…" her eyes watered and her little lips formed a pout. So like her father.
How many times had he pouted at her in the past to get his way?
"Rowan, honey… Mummy is attending the funeral of one of her old professors. It won't be much fun there. Don't you want to spend time with Grammy?" Hermione prayed that her precocious little daughter would stop begging her to go to the place where it had all began. It would be complicated enough without proclaiming to the whole world the secret she had kept for so many years.
"Grammy said my daddy used to go to school with you. Are you going to see Daddy there?" her innocent enquiry struck an emotional chord in Hermione and she gathered her small daughter close to her chest, breathing in her powdery baby scent.
"Yes, Ro. I'll see him there." She tried to keep her voice level and not let her heart's doubts show. Rowan was a very perceptive child as it was. She did not want to cause her small daughter any more pain.
"Won't he want to see me too Mummy?" tears were starting to gather at the edges of Hermione's eyes and she took a second to wipe them away with the tip of fingers while her other hand kept a light but firm hold on her daughter.
"Let's talk about it when I get back okay? Mummy is already late…" she directed a small smile at her daughter as she ruffled the little girl's curls. At least that part of Rowan was totally hers. Mine, she thought. My daughter. My greatest gift.
Hermione straightened her white dress and slid on her Chanel sunglasses while her daughter made her way out of the room. Her hair was pulled back in a sophisticated chignon, held fast by a special charm a co-worker had taught her. She had on black gloves and black heels. The journal she had kept for five years had been slipped into her purse along with her wand. She had also brought along a treasured baby picture of Rowan.
Maybe, just maybe, he could find it in his heart to forgive her and want to meet his daughter. She could show it to him and he would see how much she favored him.
Maybe when she came back she would also have with her the person who knew her best.
-0-
"Harry!" Hermione laughed as her best friend tickled her sides. Seventh year was coming to an end and they had done nothing but laugh and play after defeating Voldemort. They felt they deserved the break after all that they had been through.
Hermione and Ron had admitted to themselves that their relationship was too volatile for them to be anything more than ‘just friends’. Ginny had also found new love while helping Neville with Dumbledore’s Army. It seemed only natural for the remaining two members of the Golden Trio to gravitate toward each other, offering each other the comfort that they earlier thought would be coming from different sources.
She smiled up at him and he ceased his teasing to place a soft kiss on her lips. Life just seemed so perfect when you were in-love with your best friend. They could talk to each other about anything and everything. Nothing was too monumental or too mundane for them.
If they only knew how a pair of gray eyes watched them, waiting for his chance to make her love him instead.
-0-
She sighed in irritation as the barrier dividing 9 ¾ from King's Cross Station refused to let her through. She knew she was going to be late, but she had dropped off Rowan at her Mum's house and had a brief chat with said grandparent about revealing too much information to minors.
Needless to say, her Mum had simply waved her hands in apparent compliance before reminding her daughter that she had raised her quite well, thank you very much. She didn't need any grand-parenting advice.
Shaking her head at the uncooperative wall, she made her way out of the busy station. Looks like she would have to apparate to Hogsmeade and walk to the pier where the boats to Hogwarts would be waiting. The anti-apparition wards that the four founders had set up during the school's beginnings were still in place.
Hermione walked toward the parking lot and spied an alley that seemed deserted enough for Apparition. She put her hand in her purse and gripped her wand without bringing it up for view. She had enough problems at the moment without having to worry about Muggles needing to be Obliviated.
She closed her eyes and tried to envision Hogsmeade, she hadn't been there in years so she had to think really hard about where it would be safe to land. One, two… FOCUS Hermione! Crack.
She felt the familiar rush to the head that apparition always gave her and opened her eyes to see a myriad of colors passing in front of her eyes before she felt her feet hit the ground. The Shrieking Shack looked as decrepit and abandoned as ever. She gazed at it critically and shook her head before making her way up to the village. She was ahead of the people who took the train now, so maybe she would browse through the establishments and see if anything had changed since her last visit.
-0-
Hermione was late for her meeting with Profe-no-Headmistress McGonagall. She had a few revisions for her Ministry application that she wanted Minerva to look over but Harry had detained her at the portrait guarding Gryffindor tower and she had lost track of time.
The boy lounging on the wall outside the office straightened as he heard her footsteps approaching the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to the tower. He had heard her request a private meeting with the Headmistress and realized that it was the perfect opportunity to make his move.
His grey eyes watched her approach and his heart fell at the look of distrust and suspicion in her eyes.
“Hello Hermione.” She raised an eyebrow at his use of her name. It wasn’t bushy like the hair on her head but perfectly sculpted, like his mother’s after a day at the parlor.
“What do you want Malfoy? I’m a little busy.” She tried to get past him but he quickly moved to block her way.
“I know. I was actually hoping to talk to you…”
“Can it wait? I’m already late to my meeting with McGonagall.” She pushed past him and said the password, turning back to watch the back of his head as the stone steps lifted her above him and into the tower.
She never saw the look of disappointment that flashed over his face as she ran past him. What she did see, much later, was a boy sitting by the stone gargoyle, patiently waiting for her to return.
-0-
Hogwarts still evoked the same feelings of awe in her as she gazed up at it from the silence of her barge. She had thought that it would seem diminished somehow. After all, a war had been fought there and she knew first hand that not a stone was left untouched by the events of that final bloody, yet ultimately glorious battle.
She had returned to her grammar school once when she was looking for pre-schools for Rowan and found it to be smaller than she remembered, less grand. Hogwarts didn't leave with her with a diminished impression… in fact it seemed even larger and more grandiose than she remembered.
It was sad to think that her favorite Professor had passed on. Minerva McGonagall had been a pillar of strength the whole seven-no eight- years she had spent in Hogwarts, not to mention a great source of information regarding the development of Wizarding children.
Hermione was sure that Professor Flitwick was going to be a wonderful and caring Headmaster… but she couldn’t help but expect Minerva to be waiting for her at the end of the dock, all ready to usher into the Great Hall to meet the rest of the student body.
-0-
The other alumni had started trickling in about twenty minutes after she had arrived. Most of them had made it to the special train sent by the school to ferry them to Hogwarts.
She recognized more than a few faces, but kept to the relative safety of the wall as she wasn’t ready to face any of them just yet.
"Hello Hermione." The voice she had grown so used to during her seven years as a student at Hogwarts made her break out in cold sweat.
She turned to look into the deep green eyes of Harry Potter savior of the Wizarding World and her former best friend. He still had the same tousled hair, although it was shorter than she ever remembered it being. His scar was gone and he looked taller, more self-assured.
“We didn’t think you would be here.” He said, watching her intently, an indecipherable look in his eyes. She couldn’t decide if it was pity or longing… or maybe those were just emotions she wanted to see.
“And who is we?” her voice came out a lot higher and sharper than she had intended and she saw his eyes narrow at the unprovoked attack. “I’m sorry. I was asked to speak a few words at the funeral… for her eulogy…”
He gave a sad smile at the reminder of why they were all gathered together within the castle walls for the first time since their graduation day. Since that day when everything had come out into the open and their paths had diverged for the first time in eight years.
“You always did have a knack for putting things in perspective.” With that parting statement, he turned and disappeared into the growing crowd of former classmates and distance acquaintances. She felt her heart squeeze at the realization that for the first time since they had become friends, they hadn’t even touched each other once in the ten minutes they were in other’s presence. Not even a single sympathizing squeeze on the hand or shoulder. She lifted a glass of butter beer from a serving tray floating by her unaided and headed to the dungeons. She needed what she and Rowan liked to call “mememe time”.
-0-
“Harry, we’re just study partners, not even friends.” Hermione hurried to put her things in her backpack and rush to the library meeting with Draco. She was already five minutes late. She hated being late.
“Not even friends yet you seem to spend more time with him than with any of us anymore.” He didn’t mean to be so difficult… but after she had come back to their common room to report with surprise that Draco Malfoy asked her to tutor him in Advanced Transfiguration, things seemed to change between them.
“Harry. I’m late and you’re being silly. We’ll talk about this later.” She hoisted her bag on her shoulder and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek before rushing out.
He wondered why he couldn’t remember the last time they had really sat down to relax and talk. “Yeah. We’ll do that.” He said tonelessly to the air in front of him. “Later…”
-0-
The dungeons were as creepy and drafty as she remembered. Her white dress stood out in the inky black darkness. The cold air surrounded her, chilling her to the bone.
"Hello Granger." A voice drawled out from the shadows of the dungeon walls as she gave a little squeak of fright and surprise.
"Tsk. I don't remember you being such a scared little mouse. Figured out you have a fear of the dark and unknown, Gryffindor?"
"I don't remember you having a penchant to hide in the shadows like a common criminal waiting for his prey. Show yourself ferret." She took a sip from the drink in her trembling hand and squinted into the darkness. Had he dyed his hair black or something? She should have spotted his blonde head from miles away.
"One thing you seem to have forgotten in your absence, witch, is that I am a Slytherin. We're born sneaky and mysterious." With that, he straightened from his lounging position against the wall behind her and walked up toward her until they were only a breath apart. "Why are you here?"
"It was my school once. I was just visiting old haunts." She hoped her latent Gryffindor courage hid any hints of fear and nervousness in her voice. She hadn't been expecting to bump into him so soon.
“Oh. Is that all? Or were you hoping the ghosts of Christmas past would be hanging about here too?” he circled her warily, unable to believe that she was really here.
“What do you know of Muggle stories, Draco?” she stiffened as his name slipped easily from her lips. It had been so long.
“I know more than you think, Hermione.” And he started up the stairs leading away from the dungeons. “Are you coming?”
She nodded silently, accepting his offer to hold onto his hand as they made their way back to civilization. A tingle crept up her spine at the contact but she tamped it down with a silent sigh of irritation. First things first… or easy thing first… she couldn’t really decide with him so close to her.
Title: Rowan’s Heart
Written For: nriveraortiz (Marie!)
Rating: R
Pairing: mentions of HHr ultimately DHr
Disclaimer: JK Rowling is a wonderful writer… so who wrote that darn epilogue? Characters (except for Rowan) and setting not mine.
Summary: It’s been five years since their eighth year ended and Hermione has a secret she needs to let out of the closet.
CHAPTER 1
-0-
The sky had just begun to lighten and the first rooster's cry pierced through her consciousness. It seemed like a typical day in the quiet English hamlet where she had lived for five years.
Green.
She had always associated the color with him. She looked up its meaning on the internet and it fit him perfectly. According to Wikipedia:
"The word green is closely related to the Old English verb growan, "to grow". Sometimes it can also describe someone who is inexperienced, jealous, or sick. Culturally, green has broad and sometimes contradictory meanings. In some cultures, green symbolizes hope and growth, while in others, it is associated with death, sickness, envy or the devil"
So many contradictions… but had he ever been totally black and white? His whole life had always been about shades of grey. People had looked at him and seen one thing… but only the ones who knew him best could see the true man, for he was not a boy for much of his life, underneath the façade he presented to the world.
Five years ago, she had been one of those people who knew him best. Before everything fell apart, she was that one person in his life he could count on. Did he have another now? Someone else to soothe his fears and listen to his rants?
She drew a crooked crimson line on her lips with a shaky hand as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Five years, had it really been that long?
Could it have really been five whole years since the last time she had seen him?
She looked behind her at the velvet-bound tome resting quietly on the mahogany table behind her, mocking her with the secrets she had placed inside. Secrets that were soon going to be revealed for both their sakes… and for the sake of the most precious gift she had ever received in her life.
She turned slightly to reach a hand out to caress the cover but drew back at the last moment when the sound of an opening door reached her ears.
"Mum?" her daughter's tiny voice reached out to her and she moved her lips in a semblance of a smile as she diverted her attention from the journal on her night table to her tiny, perfect daughter.
Rowan.
She had thought about growan for awhile, but she wasn't a cruel mother. Rowan was a good name for her daughter. Even if it meant "little redhead"… she hoped her father wouldn't mind once he found about her existence. He was the ultimate inspiration behind their child's name anyway.
Rowan's eyes were a little slanted, which made it seem like she was forever plotting mischief… she loved to laugh and talk to her mother… she loved to read and make up her own stories to the characters she encountered.
She was also the image of her father.
"Mummy? I want to go with you to 'Oogwarts, please? I promise to be good…" her eyes watered and her little lips formed a pout. So like her father.
How many times had he pouted at her in the past to get his way?
"Rowan, honey… Mummy is attending the funeral of one of her old professors. It won't be much fun there. Don't you want to spend time with Grammy?" Hermione prayed that her precocious little daughter would stop begging her to go to the place where it had all began. It would be complicated enough without proclaiming to the whole world the secret she had kept for so many years.
"Grammy said my daddy used to go to school with you. Are you going to see Daddy there?" her innocent enquiry struck an emotional chord in Hermione and she gathered her small daughter close to her chest, breathing in her powdery baby scent.
"Yes, Ro. I'll see him there." She tried to keep her voice level and not let her heart's doubts show. Rowan was a very perceptive child as it was. She did not want to cause her small daughter any more pain.
"Won't he want to see me too Mummy?" tears were starting to gather at the edges of Hermione's eyes and she took a second to wipe them away with the tip of fingers while her other hand kept a light but firm hold on her daughter.
"Let's talk about it when I get back okay? Mummy is already late…" she directed a small smile at her daughter as she ruffled the little girl's curls. At least that part of Rowan was totally hers. Mine, she thought. My daughter. My greatest gift.
Hermione straightened her white dress and slid on her Chanel sunglasses while her daughter made her way out of the room. Her hair was pulled back in a sophisticated chignon, held fast by a special charm a co-worker had taught her. She had on black gloves and black heels. The journal she had kept for five years had been slipped into her purse along with her wand. She had also brought along a treasured baby picture of Rowan.
Maybe, just maybe, he could find it in his heart to forgive her and want to meet his daughter. She could show it to him and he would see how much she favored him.
Maybe when she came back she would also have with her the person who knew her best.
-0-
"Harry!" Hermione laughed as her best friend tickled her sides. Seventh year was coming to an end and they had done nothing but laugh and play after defeating Voldemort. They felt they deserved the break after all that they had been through.
Hermione and Ron had admitted to themselves that their relationship was too volatile for them to be anything more than ‘just friends’. Ginny had also found new love while helping Neville with Dumbledore’s Army. It seemed only natural for the remaining two members of the Golden Trio to gravitate toward each other, offering each other the comfort that they earlier thought would be coming from different sources.
She smiled up at him and he ceased his teasing to place a soft kiss on her lips. Life just seemed so perfect when you were in-love with your best friend. They could talk to each other about anything and everything. Nothing was too monumental or too mundane for them.
If they only knew how a pair of gray eyes watched them, waiting for his chance to make her love him instead.
-0-
She sighed in irritation as the barrier dividing 9 ¾ from King's Cross Station refused to let her through. She knew she was going to be late, but she had dropped off Rowan at her Mum's house and had a brief chat with said grandparent about revealing too much information to minors.
Needless to say, her Mum had simply waved her hands in apparent compliance before reminding her daughter that she had raised her quite well, thank you very much. She didn't need any grand-parenting advice.
Shaking her head at the uncooperative wall, she made her way out of the busy station. Looks like she would have to apparate to Hogsmeade and walk to the pier where the boats to Hogwarts would be waiting. The anti-apparition wards that the four founders had set up during the school's beginnings were still in place.
Hermione walked toward the parking lot and spied an alley that seemed deserted enough for Apparition. She put her hand in her purse and gripped her wand without bringing it up for view. She had enough problems at the moment without having to worry about Muggles needing to be Obliviated.
She closed her eyes and tried to envision Hogsmeade, she hadn't been there in years so she had to think really hard about where it would be safe to land. One, two… FOCUS Hermione! Crack.
She felt the familiar rush to the head that apparition always gave her and opened her eyes to see a myriad of colors passing in front of her eyes before she felt her feet hit the ground. The Shrieking Shack looked as decrepit and abandoned as ever. She gazed at it critically and shook her head before making her way up to the village. She was ahead of the people who took the train now, so maybe she would browse through the establishments and see if anything had changed since her last visit.
-0-
Hermione was late for her meeting with Profe-no-Headmistress McGonagall. She had a few revisions for her Ministry application that she wanted Minerva to look over but Harry had detained her at the portrait guarding Gryffindor tower and she had lost track of time.
The boy lounging on the wall outside the office straightened as he heard her footsteps approaching the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to the tower. He had heard her request a private meeting with the Headmistress and realized that it was the perfect opportunity to make his move.
His grey eyes watched her approach and his heart fell at the look of distrust and suspicion in her eyes.
“Hello Hermione.” She raised an eyebrow at his use of her name. It wasn’t bushy like the hair on her head but perfectly sculpted, like his mother’s after a day at the parlor.
“What do you want Malfoy? I’m a little busy.” She tried to get past him but he quickly moved to block her way.
“I know. I was actually hoping to talk to you…”
“Can it wait? I’m already late to my meeting with McGonagall.” She pushed past him and said the password, turning back to watch the back of his head as the stone steps lifted her above him and into the tower.
She never saw the look of disappointment that flashed over his face as she ran past him. What she did see, much later, was a boy sitting by the stone gargoyle, patiently waiting for her to return.
-0-
Hogwarts still evoked the same feelings of awe in her as she gazed up at it from the silence of her barge. She had thought that it would seem diminished somehow. After all, a war had been fought there and she knew first hand that not a stone was left untouched by the events of that final bloody, yet ultimately glorious battle.
She had returned to her grammar school once when she was looking for pre-schools for Rowan and found it to be smaller than she remembered, less grand. Hogwarts didn't leave with her with a diminished impression… in fact it seemed even larger and more grandiose than she remembered.
It was sad to think that her favorite Professor had passed on. Minerva McGonagall had been a pillar of strength the whole seven-no eight- years she had spent in Hogwarts, not to mention a great source of information regarding the development of Wizarding children.
Hermione was sure that Professor Flitwick was going to be a wonderful and caring Headmaster… but she couldn’t help but expect Minerva to be waiting for her at the end of the dock, all ready to usher into the Great Hall to meet the rest of the student body.
-0-
The other alumni had started trickling in about twenty minutes after she had arrived. Most of them had made it to the special train sent by the school to ferry them to Hogwarts.
She recognized more than a few faces, but kept to the relative safety of the wall as she wasn’t ready to face any of them just yet.
"Hello Hermione." The voice she had grown so used to during her seven years as a student at Hogwarts made her break out in cold sweat.
She turned to look into the deep green eyes of Harry Potter savior of the Wizarding World and her former best friend. He still had the same tousled hair, although it was shorter than she ever remembered it being. His scar was gone and he looked taller, more self-assured.
“We didn’t think you would be here.” He said, watching her intently, an indecipherable look in his eyes. She couldn’t decide if it was pity or longing… or maybe those were just emotions she wanted to see.
“And who is we?” her voice came out a lot higher and sharper than she had intended and she saw his eyes narrow at the unprovoked attack. “I’m sorry. I was asked to speak a few words at the funeral… for her eulogy…”
He gave a sad smile at the reminder of why they were all gathered together within the castle walls for the first time since their graduation day. Since that day when everything had come out into the open and their paths had diverged for the first time in eight years.
“You always did have a knack for putting things in perspective.” With that parting statement, he turned and disappeared into the growing crowd of former classmates and distance acquaintances. She felt her heart squeeze at the realization that for the first time since they had become friends, they hadn’t even touched each other once in the ten minutes they were in other’s presence. Not even a single sympathizing squeeze on the hand or shoulder. She lifted a glass of butter beer from a serving tray floating by her unaided and headed to the dungeons. She needed what she and Rowan liked to call “mememe time”.
-0-
“Harry, we’re just study partners, not even friends.” Hermione hurried to put her things in her backpack and rush to the library meeting with Draco. She was already five minutes late. She hated being late.
“Not even friends yet you seem to spend more time with him than with any of us anymore.” He didn’t mean to be so difficult… but after she had come back to their common room to report with surprise that Draco Malfoy asked her to tutor him in Advanced Transfiguration, things seemed to change between them.
“Harry. I’m late and you’re being silly. We’ll talk about this later.” She hoisted her bag on her shoulder and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek before rushing out.
He wondered why he couldn’t remember the last time they had really sat down to relax and talk. “Yeah. We’ll do that.” He said tonelessly to the air in front of him. “Later…”
-0-
The dungeons were as creepy and drafty as she remembered. Her white dress stood out in the inky black darkness. The cold air surrounded her, chilling her to the bone.
"Hello Granger." A voice drawled out from the shadows of the dungeon walls as she gave a little squeak of fright and surprise.
"Tsk. I don't remember you being such a scared little mouse. Figured out you have a fear of the dark and unknown, Gryffindor?"
"I don't remember you having a penchant to hide in the shadows like a common criminal waiting for his prey. Show yourself ferret." She took a sip from the drink in her trembling hand and squinted into the darkness. Had he dyed his hair black or something? She should have spotted his blonde head from miles away.
"One thing you seem to have forgotten in your absence, witch, is that I am a Slytherin. We're born sneaky and mysterious." With that, he straightened from his lounging position against the wall behind her and walked up toward her until they were only a breath apart. "Why are you here?"
"It was my school once. I was just visiting old haunts." She hoped her latent Gryffindor courage hid any hints of fear and nervousness in her voice. She hadn't been expecting to bump into him so soon.
“Oh. Is that all? Or were you hoping the ghosts of Christmas past would be hanging about here too?” he circled her warily, unable to believe that she was really here.
“What do you know of Muggle stories, Draco?” she stiffened as his name slipped easily from her lips. It had been so long.
“I know more than you think, Hermione.” And he started up the stairs leading away from the dungeons. “Are you coming?”
She nodded silently, accepting his offer to hold onto his hand as they made their way back to civilization. A tingle crept up her spine at the contact but she tamped it down with a silent sigh of irritation. First things first… or easy thing first… she couldn’t really decide with him so close to her.