Disclaimer: The characters of the Harry Potter Universe are the property of J.K. Rowling. All canon characters, plots, and situations are not owned by me and I make no profit from this story.

...

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I had no idea this would happen." Harry looked sick with guilt. "If there was something I could do -"

"Harry, what's done is done." She sighed lightly, trying to keep her own discomfort from showing. "It's not your fault. I don't blame you."

"You should!" He exclaimed. He slammed his fist on the table between them. "I never should have done that blood ritual with you while we were in hiding. I was a thoughtless, reckless arse! It was selfish of me to try to make you my sister officially just because I love you so much. I can't believe -"

"Harry, don't be daft." Hermione growled. "That was my idea and it was one of the best moments of my entire life. I refuse to regret it. There was no way for either of us to know how far reaching the consequences would be. Now, I won't hear anymore of this."

Harry bit his lip and a few teardrops fell to the tablecloth. Frustrated, he covered his face with his hands in a rush so brutal that there was a sharp snapping noise.

"Oh, Harry." She tried to coax his fists away from his broken glasses. "It's not as bad as all that."

Hermione took them and quickly repaired the crack down the center then buffed the lenses for good measure. She gently rubbed the red mark beginning to appear on his nose where he had accidentally smacked himself and then gingerly slid his glasses back on for him. He never looked up and the little wet patch on the tablecloth only grew in size.

"The old laws don't care for anyone's feelings or desires." She began calmly, hopeful that some of the lecture might reach him this time. "They were implemented centuries ago to ensure the survival of wizardkind. When Sirius fell through the Veil, the Black family line would have ended except he had you. As his godson, the old magic recognizes you as family. Our blood bond just gave that magic another link to follow."

After a pause where he still wouldn't meet her eye, she concluded that explanation wasn't enough but silliness might do the trick.

"Just imagine; how would Sirius' mother feel about having a muggleborn not only in the family but actually responsible for furthering the line?"

Harry spluttered out a chuckle and then sniffed, wiping his cheeks. "Yeah, but imagine how delighted Sirius would be about sticking it to his family?"

She giggled with him at that and reached out to hold his hand across the table.

"I doubt the Malfoys are particularly happy about this either." She sighed, deciding to share a little of her concern with him. "If the old laws weren't quite so specific we would be able to make this a lot less awkward."

"That's what I don't get, Hermione." Harry's voice rose again but holding her hand seemed to keep him grounded. "Why you and not me?"

"The old magic effectively equates our sibling blood bond to me marrying into the line but remaining unattached; like a widow. According to the law, I'm the closest female relative available to carry heirs." She shook her head. "You already have a family. Your boys have been named; officially claimed for the House of Potter. With Ginny unable to have more, the responsibility would fall to little Lily if we hadn't completed that bond."

He shivered and closed his eyes tightly against the idea.

"I'm more than happy to take on the responsibility if it means my little goddaughter can live her life, free to make her own choices." She smiled when Harry pulled their joined hands close to kiss her knuckles in gratitude.

"Why him?" He asked, finally beginning to sound more resigned to the impending future.

"He's the closest male relative to the Black line. At first, I thought raising Teddy as my own would be enough to satisfy the law but with Malfoy as a viable option to father…" She trailed off, looking down at the delicate pattern on the tablecloth and tried to swallow passed the bile rising in her throat.

"Won't your kids be Malfoys then?"

"Only the Black blood matters, in this case. I remain technically unmarried, though I suppose I could find a husband if I didn't take on his family name. Since you're still considered Patriarch for both the Black and Potter lines, all that is required after conception is for you to formally accept my children as Black heirs."

"That pervy old magic would know if the kids weren't Malfoy's, wouldn't it?" Harry muttered, scowling in such a petulant manner she almost laughed.

"Yes, it would. To be honest, all of this really hinges on Malfoy. I'm just the most immediate option for a birthing vessel." She winced as soon as she realized how that sounded.

"Oh, Merlin, Hermione! You're so much more than that. How can you be okay with this!" Harry was working his way back up to indignant. If she didn't calm him down, she would probably find herself chasing after him again as he tried to march on the Ministry to protect her honor.

"Harry, please!" She shouted, her frustration bubbling over. "Did I ever tell you why this is happening now? Six years after the war and then suddenly, out of the blue, that owl comes with its blasted letter telling us a Sacred House Revival has been triggered." She abruptly pulled her hands away and folded them tightly before her, digging her nails into her palms.

"I triggered it." She confessed.

"How, Hermione?" He whispered then leaned across the table to rub her knuckles until she opened her hands to him again.

"After Dolohov, " She trailed off, loathe to bring up a day that still caused them both nightmares. She took a deep breath and continued in a carefully neutral tone. "I wasn't sure if I could conceive. A few months ago, I went to St. Mungo's and asked to be tested."

"What did they say?"

"They said the remaining scar tissue has been healing well enough. They suspected I should be capable of safely carrying a child to term sometime within the year."

"Hermione," Harry breathed, a pained expression twisting his features as he stared into her eyes. "It's been eight years. I had no idea it was that bad."

"It wasn't -" She shook her head, starting to deny, but then realized she didn't want to lie. "I just meant that before now, the old law didn't apply to me because I was technically barren. The letter informing us of the Revival Requirement just proves that as of this morning, apparently, I can naturally conceive."

Harry just stared at her sadly then scrunched up his face in more of a grimace than a smile and gave a ridiculously depressed, "Hurray…"

She smacked his hands away with chuckle. "No, honestly," She tried again. "As much as this is a rather cold and terrible way to plan for a family, part of me is excited."

"You can't be serious!"

"Harry, I went to be tested because I want to be a mother." Hermione tried to implore him to understand. "For years, I thought the chance for me was near impossible. Now, I may not exactly want to be with Malfoy," Harry scowled in commiseration at that, "But any children we create will be wholly mine."

"Our new little half-blood Blacks." Harry smiled proudly. "I better be godfather."

"You'll be Patriarch." She corrected primly then saw his confusion and rapidly diminishing joy. "It's more than godfather. Since Malfoy probably won't want to stick around and I will technically be unwed, you'll effectively be their father figure in the eyes of the law. You're the head of the family."

Harry still looked concerned. "How about I name you Matriarch of the Black Family," He rushed to continue when he saw her about to interrupt. "No, no, hear me out. Officially or not, you will be the leader of the Black family line. Anything you need, my approval or signature or whatever, you have it. You know what's best, I trust you."

"Thank you, Harry." She softly replied. Hermione stood and leaned across the little table to meet his hug.

"So, you being a mum is great and all," He playfully teased when they parted, "But how are you planning to go about getting that way?"

"Oh, God, even I don't want to know."