Dreams by DonovanPotter

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 25/07/2007
Last Updated: 12/08/2007
Status: Completed

Ron and Hermione's marriage is over, Harry and Ginny's is on its last legs. Will there
finally be happiness for our favourite couple? Of course!




1. Chapter 1
------------

**A/N – this is my answer to the mess that was the epilogue of DH – the worse bit of
professional writing I’ve ever read. This will be a three parter with the next chapter being the
scene at the train. Hope you enjoy.**

“Is Ron here?”

Hermione looked up into the flustered face of Harry and frowned.

“No, he’s still with George at the shop,” she replied as she let him into the flat, following
him cautiously.

“Do you think he’ll be gone for long?” Harry asked, pacing.

“He’s helping with the stocktaking so probably,” she shrugged, “Harry, what’s wrong? Is
everything alright?”

He stopped and looked at her in mild panic, mid pace, flicking his eyes to the door as if to
check that it was closed, then blurted out

“Ginny’s pregnant.”

Hermione felt all the air leave her body as his words engulfed her.

“Oh Harry,” she gasped, her mind going through all the complications this bit of news was going
to cause.

“They’re going to kill me,” he groaned, turning on his heel and making his way to the couch in
the living area.

“Who?” she asked as she followed him numbly, sitting down in her favourite armchair opposite
him.

“All of them,” he stated with weary acceptance, “I’m debating whether it will be Ron, Mr Weasley
or Mrs Weasley first. I mean, I’ve knocked up their only daughter out of wedlock. What a bloody
mess!”

“They’re not going to kill you Harry,” Hermione told him reasonably, “they love you. And they
all think that you and Ginny were going to get married one day. That day will just be a little
sooner than they anticipated.”

Harry paused as he thought about what Hermione had just said, his frown deepening. She let him
think, her own thoughts going a million miles an hour.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of marrying her,” he said after a while, “I
*can’t* marry her!”

“Why not?” she asked him, part of her knowing what he’d say but she still watched his face with
interest.

He looked at her then, his eyes blazing into hers. She could see his answer without him saying
anything and blushed.

“You know why, Hermione,” he stated quietly and she gave him the smallest of smiles.

It had been six years since the demise of Voldemort and the wizarding world was only now getting
back to how it was before the war. Things for the trio changed with Ron and Hermione becoming a
couple and Ginny and Harry finally allowing themselves to be together.

But Hermione had found it difficult to be separated from Harry after spending a year glued to
his side and although she was happy with Ron, she was happier with Harry. As time progressed, their
friendship never diminished and sometimes the lines got a bit blurred between the couple.

Ginny enjoyed the limelight that came with being Harry Potter’s girlfriend and had taken a
reluctant Harry along for the ride. Often, after yet another party, he would end up at Hermione’s
place at her parents and spent many hours bemoaning what his girlfriend was getting him to do.

After the parties had ended and future plans had begun to be discussed, more disagreements
between the young couple emerged and again Hermione was the sounding board.

Meanwhile she and Ron ambled along. They quickly fell into a rut that neither of them felt
necessary to get out of. She learnt very early on that Ron constantly needed building up, that he
needed her to encourage him in every aspect of his life. It was hard work but she was okay in doing
it – most of the time.

There were occasions where she would be the one complaining to Harry about her relationship and
her life and he was always there to listen. Their friendship went to another level, strengthening
in ways that were so understated that no-one really realised.

But Hermione knew. She had felt the shift three years ago with Harry finally realising the same
thing a year later.

They were with the wrong partners.

They should be with each other.

Both tried ignoring what was now so obvious to the two of them, but that didn’t work either and
although their relationship never became physical, what they had together was stronger than what
either of them had at home.

Their own relationships progressed, but progressed slowly. Hermione shifted out of her parents
and in with Ron after he had finished auror training while she continued her law and political
studies in a muggle university. Ginny was still living at home but spent so much time at Grimmauld
Place that she might as well live there.

Yet any talk of marriage or families never seemed to get past the talk phase.

Until now.

“Harry,” Hermione started, “Ginny is going to have your baby. You’re going to have the family
you’ve always wanted…”

“It should be you.”

She took what she hoped was a calming breath as their eyes locked together, the intensity
between them sparking like an open flame.

“I know,” she said softly, “but it isn’t.”

“I don’t love her,” he continued, his voice strangled with emotion, “not like I love you.”

She went before him then, kneeling in the space in front of his legs, taking his hands in
hers.

“You’re going to be a father, Harry,” she told him as her heart shattered, “you can’t walk away
from that. You have to do what is right…”

“I’m pretty tired of always doing what’s right…”

“But this involves another life, an innocent life,” Hermione ploughed on, “this child needs your
love and the love of a happy home. We can’t leave now, Harry, we can’t run. *I* can’t. I won’t
take you away from your family.”

“I think she did it on purpose,” he said after a moment, sighing deeply, “because I wouldn’t set
a wedding date.”

“I don’t think even Ginny’s that terrible…”

“She thinks she’s losing me,” he admitted with a weary chuckle, “and you know Gin, determined to
get her own way. This would make me marry her and she knows it.”

“You will always have me…”

“But not how I want you.”

“No, not how you want me.”

They looked at each other again and it took all of Hermione’s will power not to kiss away his
hurt. Instead she cupped his cheek in her hand, enjoying his touch as he leant into her palm. He
had closed his eyes, savouring the rare moment of their togetherness, opening them to look at her
with regret.

“Sorry,” he said finally.

“What for?”

“For not ending the sham we’re both living,” he told her sadly, “for not taking you away and
starting over.”

“I think that dream died a long time ago, Harry,” she smiled softly before adding, “you should
go.”

“Go?”

“Yes, go,” Hermione prompted, standing up and bringing Harry up with her so they were now face
to face, close enough to kiss.

“What am I going to do?” he asked, his voice husky with the passion that was building in his
eyes.

“You’re going to ask your girlfriend to marry you,” she breathed, wanting desperately to kiss
him.

“I can’t…” he groaned, edging the little bit closer, “I can’t marry her when I want you.”

“You can’t have me,” she whispered then stepped away from him, breaking the connection that was
close to the point of no return, “I’m not going to be the other woman, Harry. You need to love
Ginny, start your family in a positive, loving way. You need to stop wanting what you can’t have
and instead embrace what you’ve got.”

He nodded then, understanding her words as they were a variation on the many conversations
they’d had over the years, every time they were close to becoming lovers – cheaters, liars,
betrayers. He nodded again and turned to leave. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, turning
back to Hermione who was still in front of the couch.

“I will always love you,” he stated with a tenderness that made her cry, “whatever happens,
never forget that.”

She acknowledged him with a nod, only letting her sobs escape when the door closed and she was
alone once more.

Harry and Ginny were married a month later, a small quick affair with just family and friends
present. Ginny had wanted a huge, public ceremony but all of her tantrums didn’t work this time. To
say the Weasley’s were disappointed in the fact their precious daughter was pregnant before being
married was a small understatement but strangely, they didn’t blame Harry as much as he had
feared.

No-one questioned why Hermione was so quiet as the frantic planning was taking place – they all
thought it was because she was upset that Ginny was getting married before her. In reality, every
time she met the happy redhead a part of Hermione died.

No-one noticed that it wasn’t the bride the groom watched as the wedding party walked down the
make-shift aisle, but the bridesmaid – dressed in emerald green and leading the procession.

No-one thought it unusual that Hermione cried as the couple said their ‘I do’s’, it was a
wedding after all.

A few thought it was strange that the traditional dance between the groom and the bridesmaid was
a sombre affair, with Hermione savouring every touch as if it was her last and Harry holding her
like he would never let go – but it was dismissed as two old friends getting ready to move on.

And when Ron asked Hermione to marry him as Harry and Ginny left for their honeymoon, no-one
thought it strange when she said yes.

It was time to let go and with a shattered heart and discarded dreams, Hermione was determined
to do just that.



2. Chapter 2
------------

**A/N – this is Hermione’s point of view of the epilogue of DH and the first half of this
chapter is pretty canon. It’s my take on why Harry and Hermione didn’t talk and why none of the
couples actually showed any affection for each other. So, warning, it still isn’t the happy ending
that everyone is waiting for. The next chapter will be the last and at this stage, I’m not sure how
I’ll end it but since I am a bit of a romantic, chances are it will be happy. Thanks for all the
lovely reviews and its great to see so much support for Portkey even after DH. By the way, I hated
the epilogue and really, it’s the worst bit of professional writing I’ve ever read. I have since
seen on a thread here JKR’s explanation of what she did and the professions she gave the
characters. Good to see in some aspects we think the same. Anyway, enjoy and see you next
time!**

Chapter 2

They were late. But then again, they were always late – it was one of the many things about Ron
that annoyed Hermione. And sadly their young son had inherited the infuriating trait, Hugo now
often making them even later.

Holding onto her daughter’s hand, Hermione made her way down the crowded platform towards the
end of the Hogwarts Express, quietly following Ron and Hugo. It was Rosie’s first year and the
sense of loss was weighing down heavily on her shoulders.

Her baby was growing up.

She didn’t see the Potter’s until they were right upon them as the misty haze that seemed to
engulf everything in its path had hidden them away. Hermione smiled at the look of relief on little
Albus’s face when he saw Rose – it was Harry’s middle son’s first year at Hogwart’s as well and the
two children were pretty much inseparable.

Hermione relinquished her daughter’s hand as Rose went to speak to Albus while Ron made some
comment to Harry about parking, passing his muggle driving test and how she thought he couldn’t do
it without Confunding the examiner. She gave the customary assurances of her faith in her husband’s
abilities without a second thought – after twelve years of marriage, it was automatic.

The two men went off to put the trunks in the train and it was only then she allowed herself to
watch Harry briefly, noting absently that his hair had grown untidily over his collar. She let her
thoughts wander a bit, forgetting where she was until she felt Rosie’s hand in hers.

“Mummy, why aren’t more people in uniform?” she asked and Hermione smiled as she ran her hand
lovingly over the mass of brown curls that crowned her daughter’s head.

“Because most change on the train…”

“Doesn’t it make more sense to change before you get on the train?” Rose questioned, a frown
creasing her brow, “it is the Hogwarts Express after all, you are already on school property! And
how can you change into your uniform without anyone seeing in your underwear? Honestly, I don’t see
why people would feel it alright for others to see them in their privates!”

“Robes disguise much,” Hermione assured her with a grin, enjoying her logic.

“Hey mum,” Hugo called out, both he and Lily, Harry and Ginny’s youngest, looking at her
expectedly, “do you think Rose and Al will get into Gryffindor ‘cause you guys did? ‘Cause Lily
said that it doesn’t always go that way. But I said…”

“The hat chooses the house it feels you best suit,” Hermione explained patiently, even though
they had had exactly the same conversation when James, the oldest of the Potter children, went on
the train the previous year.

“Yeah, but Rosie’s real smart and Ravenclaw takes the smart ones…”

“Rosie has to be in Gryffindor!” Al cut in, sounding slightly panicked.

“Mum’s smart and she was in Gryffindor,” Rose assured her friend before turning her attention on
her brother, “it’s just that she was brave too! Just like true Gryffindors!”

“But what about me?” Hugo carried on, not caring that it won’t be his turn for another couple of
years, “I’m not *that* brave…”

“And neither am I!” cried Lily, “maybe the hat will put me in Hufflepuff!”

“There is nothing wrong with Hufflepuff…” Ginny tried to soothe.

“But you don’t want to *be* a Hufflepuff,” Hugo continued, “and no-one wants to be in
Slytherin…”

Hermione saw Albus pale slightly at Hugo’s words before sharing a look with Rose that reminded
her so much of her own childhood. When she saw her daughter take Harry’s son’s hand and give a
squeeze of comfort, Hermione had to quickly fight back a sudden rush of tears.

“If you’re not in Gryffindor, we’ll disinherit you, but no pressure.”

Her head snapped towards her husband’s voice as he sauntered towards them, grinning at their
children. Rose had gone as pale as Al, though she had quickly withdrawn her hand from his in the
presence of her father.

Hermione admonished Ron quickly and sharply, causing a chuckle from the more easy going Lily and
Hugo while Rose and Albus still looked petrified.

“He doesn’t mean it,” she said, looking quickly at Ginny who said exactly the same thing at
exactly the same time.

*Both of us still apologising for Ron’s insensitivities,* she thought to herself as her
husband ignored them both, his gaze now captured by someone a bit further down the platform.

The figure of Draco Malfoy was still slightly imposing, and as if by instinct, she took Rosie’s
hand in hers and put her other hand on Hugo’s shoulder. Draco was no longer an enemy but as far as
Hermione was concerned, he wasn’t a friend either.

“So that’s little Scorpius,” Ron muttered and Hermione glanced at the young blond boy who looked
so much like his father, “make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your
mother’s brains.”

“Ron, for heaven’s sake,” she scolded, softening slightly when Rosie gave her hand a small
squeeze, “don’t try and turn them against each other before they’ve even started school!”

“You’re right, sorry,” Ron apologised, though Hermione could see he wasn’t sorry at all,
confirming it when he continued with, “don’t get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad
Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pure-blood.”

She was ready to scold again, angry at yet another inappropriate comment that Ron is so apt at
giving. She didn’t get the chance, however, as everyone was distracted with the reappearance of
James. At her side, Rose gave her a little tug, pulling her away from the others.

“Don’t let daddy get to you, mummy,” Rose said softly, “he doesn’t mean what he says.”

“Oh, I know pumpkin,” Hermione consoled, kneeling down and giving her daughter a hug, “I
just…he’s putting all this pressure on you…”

“I’m okay,” Rose said solemnly, though she still looked unsure. Hermione gave her a moment to
think, waiting for the thing that was really bothering her. After a little while, Rose asked in a
tiny voice, “will you really disown me if I don’t get into Gryffindor?”

“Oh sweetheart – no, not at all,” Hermione cried, holding her daughter’s face gently in her
hands, “I could never, ever disown you! All this nonsense about Gryffindor being the best house is
unjust – they all have qualities that are positive and they all have qualities that can cause
harm…”

“Even Slytherin?”

“Even Slytherin,” Hermione smiled, “actually, *I* was nearly put into Ravenclaw.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she continued, then added, “you shouldn’t let your father get to you, either, little
one.”

“No, I know,” Rose sighed, “I’m just nervous, I guess. And Al is so scared he’s going to go into
Slytherin. Dad shouldn’t have said what he did, sometimes he can be such a…”

“Your dad loves you,” Hermione interrupted swiftly, glancing up to see where the man in question
was and glad to see he was well out of ear shot and talking to Hugo and Lily.

“Will you be okay without me?” Rose asked after a while, watching Hermione carefully.

“Isn’t that what I should be asking you?” she smiled with a chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got Al,” Rose answered quickly, “and I can look after myself.”

“Well, I can look after myself as well, young lady,” Hermione admonished, still smiling.

“Yeah, I guess,” Rose said thoughtfully, pausing, then asked, “will you and Uncle Harry make
up?”

Hermione was about to ask what she meant, and how did she know that there was tension between
herself and Harry at the moment, but then stopped herself. Her daughter was smart and part of being
smart was being observant. Her eyes wandered over to where Harry was talking to Albus and let out a
small chuckle.

“Uncle Harry and I never stay mad at each other very long,” she told Rose.

“No, not like you and dad,” Rose replied with a frown.

“Right, not like your father and I,” Hermione agreed, standing, “come on you, let’s get you
settled on the train.”

They went to make their way to the final carriage, pausing to let Hugo say goodbye to his
sister. Hermione stood back and once more felt a wave of unbelievable sadness as Ron made some joke
at Rosie’s expense and gave his daughter an awkward hug before returning his attention to Hugo.

After the brief goodbye, Rose turned back to Hermione and once more took her hand. Together they
went to the carriage and with a deep, steadying breath she sat down opposite her daughter, ready to
say her own goodbyes.

“Well, this is it sweetie,” she said with false cheeriness, “you’re going to have so much fun!
Learn so many new things! Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Rosie replied, her eyes filling with tears, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Hermione frowned, unsure of what the question would be.

“Were you scared? When you went on the train for the first time?”

Hermione smiled then, and went to Rosie’s side, engulfing her in a hug.

“I was absolutely petrified,” she said, thinking back, “I didn’t know anyone and I was
muggleborn so everything was so new and strange. Everyone hated me because I just kept talking and
talking. But I made friends, eventually.”

“Daddy and Uncle Harry.”

“That’s right, your father and Uncle Harry, but even they didn’t like me at the beginning.”

“At least I have Al,” Rose sniffed, muffled from her mother’s embrace.

“Yes, you have Al,” Hermione agreed, “and James, and Hagrid, and Neville and even Headmistress
McGonagall.”

“I’m going to miss you,” Rosie cried, hugging Hermione tighter. Her own tears came then, large
but silent.

“I’m going to miss you too, little one,” she whispered, trying hard not sound as upset as she
felt, “but you’re going to love Hogwarts! You’ll have so much fun, you’ll soon forget all about
me!”

“I’ll never forget you,” Rose proclaimed as she pulled away from Hermione and began wiping her
face with the sleeve of her robe, “I’m going to make you so proud of me!”

“I’m already so proud of you Rose,” Hermione smiled encouragingly, producing a hanky and handing
it to her daughter, “how can I not be?”

“Daddy isn’t,” Rose announced, her tears gone.

“Of course he is!” Hermione exclaimed, shocked that Rose could even think that.

“Honestly, mum, I’m not stupid,” Rose said in such a way that Hermione was sure she was
listening to herself, “I’m not a boy, I hate Quidditch and I don’t seeing eating as some kind of
sprint race,” the little girl shrugged, “I don’t care. I have you. And Uncle Harry.”

“Rosie…” Hermione started, wanting to defend Ron to their daughter – but the words wouldn’t
come.

Rose was right – the joy of having a little girl dampened considerably when Hugo was born two
years later. And when their son started displaying characteristics that reflected Ron in so many
ways, the paths were set. Rose came out second best in her father’s affections.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy watching Rose grow up and Rose enjoyed spending time
with Harry. He had told Hermione once it was because it was like seeing her as a child, before she
had gone to Hogwarts. Hermione just enjoyed seeing the two of them together.

“Your dad loves you, Rose,” she continued finally.

“I know,” Rose replied nonchalantly, “I just wish he’d show it more.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment as they both became lost in thought. Hermione was brought
back to what was happening by an increase in activity both on and off the train. It was time to
go.

“I love you so much, little one,” she breathed, gently running her hand over her daughter’s
head.

“I love you too, mummy,” Rose replied, hugging her mother tightly once more.

“I better go, Rosie,” Hermione said after a moment, once more fighting her tears, “you owl me
when you get the chance, okay?”

“Yes, mum.”

“You look after yourself…”

“Yes, mum.”

“…and remember if you get into trouble, or if something happens that is beyond your
capabilities, that you go and see either Hagrid, Neville or the headmistress…”

“Yes, mum.”

“…though James and Albus should be your first port of call…”

“I know, mum.”

“…and have fun.”

“I’ll try, mummy,” Rose said, pulling away and smiling at her mother.

“Right,” Hermione smiled back, “well, I better go before I embarrass you by being still on the
train after it leaves! I love you, sweetie.”

“I know,” Rose replied bravely, trying not to cry again. Hermione kissed her daughter and stood,
knowing if she didn’t leave now, it would just get harder and harder.

“See you at Christmas,” she said, then turned and left the train.

She stood alone on the platform, waving to Rose who was hanging out of the carriage door. Ron
came to her side and also waved but didn’t speak to Hermione – Hermione didn’t care.

Harry and Albus finally finished whatever they were talking about and Albus made his way to Rose
in the carriage. Ginny closed the door behind him and then took her place at Harry’s side. The four
of them were nearly shoulder to shoulder with Hugo and Lily before them, the train now getting
closer to departing.

“Why are they all *staring*?” Albus asked as he and Rose looked at their fellow students
who kept staring at their farewell party.

“Don’t let it worry you,” Ron answered and inwardly, Hermione cringed, “it’s me. I’m extremely
famous.”

The kids all laughed but Rosie caught her mother’s eye with a knowing look, understanding that
it was not her father, but her uncle that everyone was looking at. Hermione just smiled a little
smile and waved, tearing up as soon as the train began to move.

She watched as Harry followed the disappearing Hogwarts Express, his hand also raised in
farewell. Both their children were hanging out of the carriage door window, waving back until the
train went around the corner and disappeared from sight.

Her tears were rolling down her cheeks as her loss finally overwhelmed her. She heard Ginny
comfort Harry, telling him that their son would be alright and heard his response. Part of her
hoped that she would get the same level of comfort from her husband, but he was too busy playing
with Hugo.

“I’ve got to get back to work, mate,” he told his son, who was squirming to get away from Ron’s
hold.

“You’re leaving?” Harry asked and for the first time, he looked at Hermione, who dropped her
head to hide her tears.

“Yeah, it is a Wednesday,” Ron answered, letting Hugo go with a grin and turned his attention to
Harry, “not all of us can pick and choose when they want to work.”

“Actually, I need to go too,” Ginny added, “we have a new proof-reader at the paper who is
making things a real nightmare. Hermione, will you be alright looking after Lily?”

Hermione looked up to see everyone looking at her, including the children, and she realised with
a passing thought that she must look a mess (unlike the beautiful Ginny, who was watching her with
a self-satisfied smirk).

“Of course I can look after Lily,” Hermione said finally, “not a problem.”

“Actually, I’ve got nothing planned so…”

Hugo and Lily cheered and clapped wildly, cutting Harry off and making all the adults laugh.
Hermione tried to act as casual as she could without betraying the rush of anxiousness that now
melded with her sense of loss.

“Excellent,” Ginny gushed, pecking Harry on the cheek before turning her attention to Lily,
“I’ll be home in time to tuck you in, princess. You be good for dad and Aunt Hermione.”

“Don’t wait up Herms,” Ron said casually over his shoulder as he started to leave, Ginny quickly
finishing her hug with Lily so she could follow, “I’ll probably be late. And you,” he grabbed an
un-expecting Hugo in a type of wrestling, hug thing, “be good.”

Hermione just stood there and watched Ron and Ginny leave the emptying platform, Lily and Hugo
following them for a bit until they were told by Ginny to go back. Harry was silent as he waited
for the kids.

“So,” he said when they reached him, “since it’s still officially the school holidays, what do
you two want to do on your last day of freedom?”

Hugo and Lily looked at each other for a moment, agreeing on something that must have been
previously discussed because they both said “the zoo!” at exactly the same time.

“The zoo it is then,” Harry smiled as he started to walk down the platform, “Lily, why don’t you
lead the way to the car.”

“Sure daddy,” the little girl replied, grabbing Hugo’s hand and walking through the magical
barrier. Harry followed and after a brief hesitation, so did Hermione.

Kings Cross was as busy as ever but the kids walked on confidently ahead while Hermione remained
a few paces behind Harry. He noticed that she wasn’t by his side as soon as they left Platform Nine
and Three-Quarters and waited for her to catch up.

“You okay?” he asked, his hands deep in his pockets and she knew it was to stop himself reaching
for her.

“No, not really,” she answered truthfully, not looking at him but instead keeping an eye on the
children, “my baby has gone to Hogwarts and my husband doesn’t seem to care.”

“I’m sure he does…”

“No,” Hermione snapped, stopping and looking at him, “he doesn’t. And his daughter knows
it.”

Harry frowned as he processed what she was saying and she left him to it, looking back once more
at the children, who had also paused as they waited for them. She started walking once more.

“Did Rosie say something…”

“Oh, just that she thinks her father isn’t proud of her,” Hermione snarked, “and she was
absolutely petrified after Ron’s little ‘if you don’t get into Gryffindor, we’ll disown you’ lark,
thinking we actually would. And poor Albie nearly fainted…”

“He doesn’t want to get put into Slytherin,” Harry explained.

“He’s *terrified* he’s going to get put into Slytherin,” Hermione corrected, “and Ron’s
stupid comment didn’t help.”

They walked in silence for a bit as the bustle of the street leading into the station stopped
all conversation, and when they started talking again it was a child friendly discussion as the
four of them piled into Harry’s car and made their way to the London Zoo.

They had been to the zoo countless times but it was both Hugo and Lily’s favourite place and as
soon as they came through the entrance way, they made a bee-line for the lion enclosure with Harry
and Hermione following a respectable distance behind – enough to talk in private but also still
able to keep an eye on the kids.

The conversation turned to their friends and their various jobs – a safe, neutral subject.

Everyone had helped rebuild the wizarding world after the fall of Voldemort and his Death Eaters
as there wasn’t an area that hadn’t been destroyed by his evil.

Ron, Harry and Neville all trained as auror’s in the beginning, all wanting to get rid of the
remaining Death Eaters and finish off what they started. They had been good at their jobs but it
was only Ron that really enjoyed what they were doing.

When the position of Herbology professor came up at Hogwarts, Neville jumped at the chance and
had now been teaching there for nearly fifteen years. Harry and Hermione chuckled as they wondered
how many times Albus would slip and call him Uncle Neville instead of Professor Longbottom.

After Harry and Ginny had married, Harry made the decision to be a stay-at home dad, arguing
that Ginny’s career at the New Daily Prophet was getting bigger and bigger and was something she
enjoyed doing. They had rowed a lot during that time but Harry wouldn’t change his mind. In the
end, Ginny gave in and now worked full-time at the paper but made it quite clear that she expected
more from her husband.

Meanwhile, Hermione had gone to a muggle university to study and came out with a doctorate
fourteen years later. Rose had been born when she graduated with her Masters while Hugo came along
while she was well into her post-grad thesis.

The arguments had been horrendous when Hermione told Ron she was continuing with her studies
after they were to marry with Ron not talking to her for nearly a month and threatening to call the
whole thing off. Harry had talked Ron around but Ron had decided he wouldn’t go out of his way and
help Hermione during the seven years it took her to do her part-time study and raise their two
children, it had been Harry who understood and gave her the support she needed.

Now Ron was close to being Head Auror, Ginny was sub-editor with Harry and Hermione raising
their five children between them. Harry was called on every now and then to help Ron and his teams,
something that kept him active and ensured he never got bored, but Harry was happiest when he was
with his kids.

Hermione used her law degree and her doctorate in politics to do what she always planned on
doing – fighting for those magical creatures that have always been subjected to in wizarding law.
In between home-schooling the children, she formalised the House Elf Protection Act, getting it
passed with a vast majority three yeas after she began writing it

At the moment she was working on getting rights for werewolves while supervising developments in
the wolvesbane potion. Both projects had had a lot of input from Harry with the two of them working
together as they researched, wrote and instigated the laws while still ensuring their children were
taught and raised well.

Talk easily turned to the werewolf project as they discussed what had happened during the two
weeks Harry had been gone. Hermione never asked why he had been absent, though she desperately
wanted to know. Ginny had just dropped James, Albus and Lily at her place during the fortnight,
saying Harry had been called away on auror business though Ron seemed to think Harry hadn’t been
needed.

As she thought more and more about what had kept him away, she stopped talking and soon, so did
Harry. After a few moments in silence (while they watched Hugo and Lily trying to spot the wolves
in the empty looking enclosure), Hermione took the plunge.

“I’ve missed you,” she said quietly, still not looking at him.

“Sorry,” he replied quickly and Hermione sighed.

“Right,” she dismissed, realising that the tension between the two of them was still there.

“Yeah, I had this assignment at the office,” he began before snorting softly and stopping mid
pace, Hermione stopping as well and finally looking at him, “who am I kidding – I can’t lie to
you!” he admitted with a shake of his head, his eyes now boring into hers, “I needed some time
away, because every time I close my eyes, or just stop and think, all I can see is you wet and
flustered and under me.”

Hermione blushed as she remembered what Harry was referring to, understanding why it had caused
him so much difficulty because it had done the same to her. It all started innocently enough – it
had been a stifling hot day and the kids were bored when Hugo had ‘accidentally’ thrown a bucket of
water over his sister. Rose, instead of getting mad, got even and soon the back garden of the
Weasley-Granger house was the scene of a huge water fight. Harry and Hermione had become involved,
enjoying playing with their children and was giving as good as they were getting.

Until Harry had Hermione pinned down after a particular devastating attack against him. She was
wet from head to toe, her t-shirt clinging to her in ways that accentuated her body well and as
Harry straddled her, the line they had maintained throughout the last sixteen years had been a
breath away from being crossed.

She had felt him hard against her, his excitement difficult to mask while her own body betrayed
her and showed him how much she was ready. But the moment was shattered by a water bomb thrown by
Rose, hitting Harry squarely on his back and within minutes the Potter’s had left and she hadn’t
seen Harry since.

“Did it work?” she asked, a smirk playing on her lips.

He looked at her up and down, obviously and with a smirk of his own, before looking back at her
face with a desire that was burning in his eyes.

“No.”

“Hey, mum,” Hugo called out, tearing Hermione away from Harry’s intense stare and towards her
son, “we’re hungry, can we get something to eat?”

An hour later, they were all fed and the children continued their exploration of the zoo while
Harry and Hermione followed.

“Ron seems to be working long hours,” Harry said after a while.

“Yes, he is,” Hermione agreed before adding casually, “I think he’s having an affair.”

“What?” Harry blurted out, glaring at her, “what makes you say that?”

“I know he doesn’t have to put in the hours that he is,” she explained with a shrug, still
walking, “and I know he’s lying to me about it. His attitude has got even more distant than it
already was and our sex life, which was already pretty much non-existent, is even more so except
now he comes home ready to burst. Which makes me think he hasn’t had sex with her yet, but he
really wants to,” she turns to Harry then, her smirk returned, “I hope that’s not what you do with
Ginny,” she quipped, “get all frustrated with me and then go home and have wild, passionate sex
with your wife!”

“Ginny and I stopped having sex years ago,” Harry stated calmly, “you know that. And don’t
change the subject – do you have any idea who it is?”

“Remember Luna from school…”

“Luna Lovegood?” Harry cried, “you’re kidding?”

“Her name keeps popping up,” Hermione told him, making sure their children were too far away to
hear what they were talking about, “he had been working with her during one of his cases, her being
an Unspeakable and all, and now they seem to keep bumping into each other, having lunches…”

“He tells you this?”

“I think he feels he has nothing to hide,” she shrugged again, “which he probably doesn’t. But I
think he’s falling for her hard.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“What can I do?” Hermione repeated, looking at him, “I’ve been cheating on Ron for sixteen
years…”

“We haven’t done anything wrong,” Harry cut in sharply, “we’ve never betrayed them…”

“My God, Harry,” Hermione scoffed, “I love you more than my husband, you get on better with my
children than he does and on the rare occasion that I get intimate with the man I married, it is
your face that gets me excited – not his. We may have never kissed or made love, but you have me in
every other possible way.”

He stayed silent then, watching her with a wistful sadness that she has seen so many times over
the years, and he has seen the same look of hopelessness on her own face.

“I wish we could leave,” he said quietly, longingly, “just go, start again. Leave this mess
behind.”

“So do I,” she replied, just as quiet, “but we can’t…”

“I know, I know, the kids,” Harry ended for her, then added with more urgency, “but, Hermione,
if we’re all living a lie, if we’re all miserable because we want to be with other people, surely
the children would be better off…”

“Our families are too interwoven, Harry, and you know it,” Hermione argued, “even if Ron leaves
me for another woman, there is no way the Weasley’s would understand you leaving Ginny for me!
Besides, Ginny still loves you…”

“I’m not sure she does, actually,” he shrugged, “her job has overtaken her life and I get the
feeling that because she doesn’t like the choices I’ve made, she really doesn’t care.”

“What a mess,” Hermione snorted, her eyes going back to Hugo and Lily, who were at last running
out of steam, “how did our lives end up being so pear shaped? It was all supposed to be perfect
once Voldemort was gone.”

Harry didn’t reply and when she glanced at him, he was lost in thought. She was curious about
what was running through his head, but gave him the time he needed to sort it out, returning her
gaze on their children.

“Are you happy, Hermione?” he asked finally, turning to her in question, “I mean, look at us. We
see each other every day, but can’t be together. I have a wife who sees me as a failure because I
haven’t lived up to her expectations and you have a husband who just doesn’t seem to care. Yet
neither of us are alcoholics, or drug abusers or have suicidal thoughts or, I don’t know, or have
given up. Why?”

“Because we have five beautiful children between us,” Hermione answered, “and we’ve got love and
we’ve got each other. Not as we want each other, granted, but I know for a fact I couldn’t have got
through the last twelve years without you. Actually, I couldn’t have got through the last
twenty-six years without you! As long as you are in my life, I’m happy.”

“You’re incredible,” he smiled softly, “do you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” she laughed, stopping when he bent over so his lips were inches from her ear.

“I love you,” he whispered, sending a shiver down her spine.

“I know,” she replied, stepping away from him and towards the now stationary Hugo and Lily,
“let’s get these children home.”



3. Chapter 3
------------

**A/N – sorry it’s taken a bit longer to update but this chapter has just grown and grown to
the point that it’s now two chapters. Warning, Ginny’s not very nice and I know it’s a bit of a
stretch that Kingsley is still the Minister but – eh, what can you do? Thank you for your lovely
reviews, they do mean a lot. Hope you enjoy this. Cheers!!**

**Chapter 3**

It had been a long day, long day. Hermione wearily rubbed her temples as she made her way to the
door, wondering who would take the trouble to knock instead of just flooing.

In the background, she heard Hugo laughing with the tinkle of Lily’s giggle intertwined – the
sound making her cringe at what she would find when she went back into the kitchen.

*I wish Harry was here,* she thought with a tired sigh.

But Harry wasn’t there, he was with Ron on this big case and both of them had been gone for over
a week.

With Hugo and Lily still easily distracted from their studies by the ending of summer, the
absence of her fellow caregiver, the constant pang of loss regarding Rosie being at Hogwarts (both
she and Al had got into Gryffindor, much to her relief) and the werewolf project hitting an
unforeseen snag, Hermione was exhausted.

With another deep sigh, she opened the door.

“Teddy?” she said, surprised at seeing the familiar face, “what’re you doing here? Why didn’t
you floo?”

As soon as she asked, however, she knew the answer – Ted was in his Auror robes, his expression
sombre and he hadn’t flooed. Something was wrong.

“Hermione, there’s been an attack…”

His words confirmed her fears as she began to process the phrase that she had hoped she’d never,
ever hear.

“Is he still alive?” she asked immediately, her voice shaking slightly.

“Yes,” Ted answered solemnly, “they both are…”

“Both?” Hermione cried, feeling her legs buckle, “oh God, Harry!”

“You need to get to St Mungo’s,” Ted continued, “I’ll look after Hugo and Lily.”

She didn’t say anything as she quickly grabbed her bag and headed back into the kitchen,
frantically thinking of what she would tell the children.

Hugo and Lily had given up on their studies and instead were playing hangman on a bit of
parchment. They both gave a yelp of joy when they saw Teddy, but it was soon tapered once they
noticed his expression.

“What is it, mum?” Hugo asked seriously, and his resemblance to Ron hitting Hermione hard.

“I need to go out for a while,” she said quickly, “and Ted’s here to stay with you. I want you
two to be good for him, okay?”

“Why do you need to go?” Hugo pressed, starting to panic, “we’ve got school work to do!”

“Hugo,” Hermione started, not too sure how much she should say but finally deciding he had the
right to know, “your dad’s been hurt so I need you to be brave for me, stay here and be good for
Teddy. I’ll tell you more as soon as I know, I promise.”

“Is…is he alright?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” she smiled hesitantly, before drawing him into a hug, “I’ll let you
know as soon as I can. It’s going to be fine.”

She let her son hug her for a moment longer, knowing that he needed her reassurance. When she
stood to go, she gave the trio a small wave and then said clearly “St Mungo’s” into the green
flames

As soon as she stepped out of the floo at the hospital, a young Auror strode to her side and
started guiding her towards one of the stairwells leading upstairs. She ignored all the interested
stares and only vaguely got the urge to correct her escort that she wasn’t, in fact, Mrs Weasley
but Doctor Granger as it seemed rather petty.

She followed the Auror in silence as she continued to process the situation. She hadn’t really
listened to Ron when he told her where the mission was, only remembering that they were going to
the Brecon Beacons and they were going to be gone for about three weeks. Who they were going after
and why Harry had to be involved, she couldn’t recall.

The Auror paused in front of a non-descript door and indicated she was to enter. Taking a
calming breath, she stepped into the dimly lit room that had two beds and about ten people hovering
around them.

Kingsley Shacklebolt saw her first and made his way towards her, his calm face showing an
inkling of concern. She tried to look past him at the figures on the bed, only seeing the red hair
of one and the black hair of the other, both surrounded by various medical workers.

“Hermione,” he said, his deep voice surprisingly gentle, “good to see you again. I just wish it
was in better circumstances…”

“This must be bad if the Minister of Magic is here,” Hermione joked feebly.

“I’m here as a friend,” Kingsley stated before adding, “I had hoped I would be able to finish my
reign as Minister without ever having to see either of these young men in this condition...”

“What happened?” she cut in, “what’s wrong with them?”

“The story is unclear at this stage,” Kingsley explained, “the mission was not thought to be
dangerous, more a surveillance arrangement…”

“Then why was Harry involved?”

“My understanding is that he requested the assignment…”

“Who were they watching?”

“Ivan Lestrange…”


“Bellatrix’s son?”

“Yes.”

Hermione thought for a moment, her mind going over all the possible scenarios but nothing seemed
to fit. It didn’t make sense. Then, with a shudder, she remembered why she was there and all
thoughts of how and why disappeared.

“What’s wrong with them?” she asked again, determined for an answer.

“I’ll get Healer Littlewood to update you,” Kingsley answered, then indicated to a small,
balding man who came over to them in short, precise steps.

“Doctor Granger,” the healer started, and already Hermione liked the man, “we have good news
with regards to your husband. His injuries are superficial with his bruises and broken bones
healing as we speak. We expect him to regain consciousness within the next hour, my fellow healers
having deciphered the more dangerous curse and are now rectifying it.”

“That is good news,” Hermione smiled gratefully, “and Harry?”

“Mr Potter is more complex,” Healer Littlewood frowned and Hermione’s fears returned tenfold,
“the injuries sustained in the fall…”

“Fall?”

“Harry was found at the bottom of a rocky incline,” Kingsley put in.

“Oh, God.”

“Yes, well,” the healer continued, “his injuries are quite substantial and added with the
barrage of curses he seems to have been hit with, his healing process will take longer, I’m
afraid.”

“Where’s Ginny?” she asked, once more looking past the people in front of her and onto the two
in the beds.

“She, Arthur and Molly were notified the same time you were,” Kingsley told her, “we expect them
shortly.”

Hermione nodded absently, wanting desperately to get closer, to touch them and confirm that they
were, in fact, still alive. The healer seemed to sense her need.

“Would you like to sit with your husband?” he asked gently.

“Yes, yes, please,” Hermione answered then made her way to the space between the two beds.

She looked at Ron first, his red hair and freckles so prominent against his pale skin. She
remembered seeing him like this before, after being poisoned in their sixth year at Hogwarts, and
the same sense of affection flowed through her. She picked up his cold hand, the one with the
wedding band that shone so brightly on it, and kissed it softly.

She then turned to the other bed and she was sure her heart stopped beating. Harry lay deathly
still, bruises and scratches scattered over his face and arms. His glasses had been removed and his
head shaven so they could see some of the wounds on his skull. It sounded like every breath was a
mission, a rattling, wheezing sound coming from him every time his chest rose and fell.

Ron’s hand was forgotten and she went to Harry’s side, her tears unable to be held back. The
room was pretty much empty now, only Kingsley and Healer Littlewood remaining, but it didn’t
matter. She lay her hand on his forehead, as if checking for a fever, then ran a finger gently down
the side of his battered face.

“Oh, my baby!”

Hermione looked up to see Mrs Weasley charge into the room and make her way to Ron’s side.
Hermione turned reluctantly from Harry and instead went to her husband, watching her mother-in-law
fuss over her son.

“They say he’s going to be alright,” she said it what she hoped was a confident voice but it was
like she hadn’t been heard. She looked over the prone body of her husband and found Mr Weasley
looking back at her, a strange look on his face. Slightly disconcerted, Hermione quickly glanced
away from him and focused instead on his wife.

Mrs Weasley was firing questions at Healer Littlewood but not really listening to the answers
and it was only after he mentioned that Harry was in a worse state that she acknowledged that her
other ‘son’ was also in the room.

“Where’s Ginny?” she asked briskly, “why hasn’t she been notified?”

“She has Molly,” Kingsley replied politely, “my people were told that she had to finish some
business at the paper….”

“Business at the paper?” she exclaimed, furious, “business at the paper! She should be here, by
her husband’s side! That girl needs to sort out her priorities…”

“Molly, dear,” Mr Weasley started, readying himself to calm her down.

“No, Arthur, this time she’s gone too far,” Mrs Weasley proclaimed, heading for the door, “that
blasted paper has taken over her life! She needs to be taught once and for all that her family
comes first not some bloody job!”

With that she was gone, leaving the room in comparative silence. It was then that Kingsley
excused himself, saying he needed to get back to work and when the healer also departed, wanting to
join the team that was trying to fix Harry, Hermione was left alone with her father-in-law.

They both stood over the now moving body of Ron, watching as he began to twitch and mutter.
Neither spoke, but Hermione lay her hand on his shoulder, wanting him to know that she was there.
When he groaned out “Luna”, she froze before nervously glancing at Mr Weasley, who in turn kept
looking at his son. After a moment, where Ron’s mumblings were the only sound heard, Mr Weasley
spoke.

“When you first visited us, all those years ago,” he said softly, “I could see how much my son
wanted to show you how he cared but it seemed you only had eyes for Harry…”

“Arthur…” Hermione cut in, her heart beating wildly as she tried to anticipate where the
conversation was heading.

“…and I really couldn’t understand why Ron followed you with such longing,” he continued,
ignoring her interruption, “as it seemed obvious to me that you and he were never rightly matched.
I always thought you would end up with Harry.”

He looked at her then, and Hermione could see in his eyes that he knew – he knew that she didn’t
love his son the way she loved his son’s best friend. He knew from the moment he had seen the three
of them together over twenty five years before hand. And better than that, he wasn’t judging her.
He understood.

“My wife said that I was wrong,” he stated, his voice still soft, “and when we heard that Harry
and Ginny were together, she said that proved it, so I kept quiet and watched. And I can tell you,
what I’ve seen over the years has saddened me beyond belief.”

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione whispered, her hand still resting on the shoulder of her husband, tears
filling her eyes.

“It’s not too late, my dear,” Arthur Weasley told her gently, and she looked back up at him
sadly, “why don’t you go and sit with Harry so he isn’t alone. I can stay with Ron until Molly and
Ginny come back.”

Hermione just nodded, not trusting her voice. She looked down at Ron, her and Harry’s names
joining in the jumble of words that he was muttering incoherently, and felt the concern that one
felt for a best friend, not a lover. Absently wiping away the few stray tears that had escaped down
her cheeks, she turned from him and went to Harry’s bedside.

His hand was raw, grazes exposing flesh through his skin. She held it gently as she watched his
still face, willing for some sign of life other than the rasp of his breaths. Her mind was in
turmoil, her emotions were so intense, so exposed that she wasn’t sure how or if she would be able
to hide what she was feeling.

She sat in silence, Ron’s mumblings the only sound disturbing her, as Hermione tried to get her
thoughts in order. All reflection, however, was shattered the moment Molly and Ginny stormed into
the room, a more sedate Healer Littlewood and his small team in the Weasley womens’ wake.

“See, I told you Hermione would be looking after him,” Ginny scoffed, her perfectly plucked
brows pulled into a frown, “there was no rush, mother!”

“Hermione should not have to look after *your* husband, young lady,” Mrs Weasley scolded,
making her way to Ron’s bed, “she already looks after your children! Why you even decided to have
children if you weren’t prepared to raise them, I don’t know!”

“Molly, I don’t think this is the time or place,” Mr Weasley spoke up, his tone hard and
stopping both his wife and daughter from saying anything further, though both desperately wanting
to.

Hermione had stood and moved away from Harry as soon as the others had entered the room,
allowing the small team of healers to discuss whatever new strategy they had come up with while at
the same time doing more tests. She was watching them with interest, only looking away when Ginny
spoke.

“Is anyone actually going to tell me what’s wrong with Harry or am I to guess,” the red head
sniped impatiently and Hermione saw Healer Littlewood bristle slightly. She sighed at Ginny’s
attitude but expected nothing else.

“We now know Mr Potter was struck with two curses at the same time, their intertwining causing
some concern,” the senior healer explained while his colleagues continued their tests behind him,
“added to the injuries sustained from his fall, I’m afraid things are rather dire.”

“Dire?” Ginny repeated, no longer bristling but now looking rather scared, “Harry may die?”

“Well, we are doing everything in our power to prevent that,” Healer Littlewood stated
matter-of-factly.

“I…I thought it was something minor,” Ginny stammered, sinking down into a near-by chair,
“something easily fixed…”

“These injuries are anything but minor,” the healer informed her curtly before turning his
attention to Ron, “ah, I see Mr Weasley is at least making progress.”

*Harry may die, Harry may die, Harry may die!*

Hermione’s mind screamed with anguish as the thought of losing Harry threatened to overcome her.
She hastily wiped away the tears that kept rolling down her face, willing herself not to break
down, and turned to Ron and his parents with what she hoped was appropriate concern.

“My son will be okay?” Mrs Weasley asked nervously.

“Yes, yes,” Healer Littlewood replied with a smile, “I expect him to be awake soon and after a
night of care, will be able to go home tomorrow.”

“Someone needs to tell the children,” Mr Weasley said quietly and Hermione looked at him with
horror – she had forgotten all about Hugo and her promise to him!

“Who is looking after Lily?” Ginny asked, once more terse.

“Teddy…Teddy’s with them,” Hermione said, starting to panic, “I need to tell Hugo…”

“You stay here, Hermione,” Mr Weasley instructed kindly, “I’ll go and sort it all out. Perhaps
Hugo and Rose could visit a bit later?”

“Yes, yes – that will be fine,” Hermione answered absently, “thank you Arthur.”

“Ginny? How would you like to…”

“Well, of course the children should see their father,” Ginny interrupted, “especially if Hugo
and Rose will be here. You can’t tell one lot without the other lot out finding out.”

Mr Weasley just nodded at his daughter and left, Healer Littlewood and his team going with him.
Hermione closed her eyes as a sudden weariness hit her, the emotions of the last hour taking its
toll. She collapsed into the waiting chair and rubbed her face with a shaking, cold hand.

The room was silent bar Ron’s mutterings, the random words he uttered filling the awkward
silence between the three Weasley women. It was a few moments before Hermione felt like she could
once more look at her husband, glancing at the worried face of her mother-in-law as she did so.

It was then he decided to wake, his eyes snapping open with little warning and startling the two
women watching him.

“Ronald!” Mrs Weasley cried, gripping her son’s hand tightly. Ron’s eyes moved to his mother and
then over to Hermione, who was watching him with a sense of relief.

“Where am I?” he asked briskly.

“You’re at St Mungo’s,” Hermione explained, “you’ve been in a…”

“Is Harry here?” Ron interrupted.

“Er…yes,” Hermione answered uncertainly, concerned by the hardness in Ron’s voice, “he’s just
here…”

“Get me out.”

“What?”

“Get me out of this room,” Ron repeated, glancing angrily at the group of healers that had come
in and started to check him out, “I don’t want to be in the same room as *him*!”

“Ron, dear,” Mrs Weasley started but was quickly cut off.

“Leave it mum,” Ron snapped, “I don’t care. Just remove me from this bloody room!”

Hermione stood back as the healers and mediwitches hastily wheeled the now stoney Ron down the
hallway and to a room of his own. She gave a parting look at the still body of Harry before she
followed, Ginny watching her with a scowl.

Mrs Weasley went with her son in silence while the turmoil that had been occupying Hermione’s
mind from the moment Teddy showed up on her doorstep increased ten-fold. Ron had woken up furious
and all his anger seemed to be directed at Harry – what had taken place at this stakeout? What had
gone wrong?

She entered his room and made her way to where they had placed the bed, ready to be by his side
once more, stopping when Ron sat up and glared at her.

“I want you to leave as well,” he spat and Hermione felt the colour leave her face.

“Ron, what’s going…”

“Don’t Hermione,” Ron cut in once more, “I can’t deal with you right now. Just go.”

Frantically, she tried to process what was going on. Obviously, something had happened between
Harry and Ron, something which has left Harry fighting for his life and Ron hating his once best
friend. His animosity towards her made it quite obvious to Hermione what has caused the rift.

Ron had found out about her and Harry.

As this thought hit her, her panic disappeared and a sense of survival took its place. Ron was
angry, but they had two children to think about and at the moment, Rose and Hugo were scared and
worried about their injured father.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Harry,” Hermione stated, ignoring the glare from her
husband, “but I do know that we have two children terrified about the fact their father is in
hospital. Therefore I ask that when I bring them here, you put aside whatever *angst* you are
going through and act like a decent human being…”

“You’re telling *me* how to act…?”

“Whatever has gone on, we can discuss later,” she cut in defiantly, “right now you need to grow
up and be strong for your children.”

“Don’t you even care about how I am?” he growled, “how I’m feeling?”

“Considering your ability to snipe and snarl, I thought that you must have been cured.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

She came back a couple of hours later with the children, standing back and watching Ron assure
them that he was alright while she pretended everything was fine.

He was released the following day and came home to the smiles of all. His homecoming was
celebrated with a family dinner and Rose staying at home one more night before returning to
Hogwarts.

Later, as Hermione sat in her study nursing a cold cup of tea, wondering how Harry was, Rose
came and sat down on the empty armchair opposite her. The two looked at each other for a moment,
the crackling of the fire the only noise.

“What’s going on, mum?” Rose asked after a while, “why is dad so angry?”

“He and Uncle Harry had a fight, I think,” Hermione explained softly; Rose nodded in
understanding.

“Is Uncle Harry going to be alright?”

“We…we don’t know yet,” Hermione managed to choke out, her eyes automatically filling with tears
which she tried desperately to blink away.

“Is that why you’re so sad?”

Hermione looked down at her half filled cup and nodded, not wanting to speak.

“Why won’t dad let you visit Uncle Harry?”

“Because…” *your father thinks Uncle Harry and I are having an affair.* Hermione couldn’t
bring herself to admit that to her daughter, so instead let the sentence hang in the darkening
room.

Rose was quiet for a moment, not phased by Hermione’s ineloquence in the slightest and instead
was thinking hard.

“I’d like to see Albus before I go back to Hogwarts,” Rosie said after a while, “and see Uncle
Harry. Are you able to take me there? Daddy doesn’t need to know if you don’t want to tell
him.”

“I think Albus would appreciate your visit,” Hermione replied quietly, “we’ll pop in tomorrow
before I take you back to school.”

“Thanks mum,” Rose smiled, getting up from her seat and hugging her mother, “don’t worry. I’m
sure everything will turn out fine.”

Hermione waited until the door closed before she let her first tears fall. By the time a
silencing charm was cast, the sobs that were now wracking her body filled the empty study with
their desolate sound.

When Hermione and Rose entered Harry’s room the following day, it was to see James and Albus
sitting on either side of their father, both looking up as they entered, neither looking that
surprised of their visit.

“Where’s Aunt Ginny and Lily?” Rose asked, going to Albus in purposeful strides while Hermione
walked towards Harry’s bed more slowly.

“Lil’s home with granddad and grandma,” Albus explained, standing to meet Rose, “mum had to
answer an urgent owl.”

“How is he?” Hermione breathed, her eyes never leaving Harry.

“No change,” James replied, “but the healers are still hopeful he’ll…”

Hermione looked up at James when his voice broke and saw the pain and anguish on his young face.
The perfect meld of both Harry and Ginny, James’s brown eyes filled with tears. Gone was the happy
go lucky boy who she saw off on the train only a couple of months ago. She glanced over to Albus,
who looked so much like his father it hurt. He, too, had tears in his eyes but he, like his
brother, was trying desperately hard not to spill them.

She went to James and put a comforting arm around his shoulders in a way that let him know if he
needed more support, she would give it. Rose had taken Albus’s hand and together they stood side by
side, looking down at the still Harry, her tears running down her face.

“How are you two doing?” Hermione asked, softly.

“He can’t die, Aunt Hermione,” Albus cried, “he just can’t!”

“I’ve known your dad for a very long time,” Hermione told them, pretending she hadn’t seen Albus
embarrassedly wipe away a few stray tears, “and seen him come through more scrapes than you can
ever imagine. He’s a fighter and as long as he know he has something to fight for, he’ll try his
very best to come back to us. We just need to keep the faith.”

“Do *you* have faith?” James asked her, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I have to believe he’ll come back,” she replied, her own tears coming, “I have to.”

James turned into her then, burying his face into her shoulder as he sobbed, Hermione engulfing
him in a hug that he desperately wanted. She looked at Harry, her tears falling into James’s hair,
and saw no sign of life. His scrapes and bruises were almost gone as was the rattling sound
whenever he breathed, but there was no mistaking that life had not yet returned.

She thought of all the times over the years she had seen him unconscious or hurt and how every
time had been so heart-wrenching. He had been a boy then, and she a confused, unsure girl thinking
that her fear was because he was her best friend and nothing more. Now she realised it was because,
even then, she had loved him.

“I…I need to go to the toilet,” James suddenly blurted out, pulling away from Hermione and
hiding his face embarrassedly, ashamed for crying in front of his aunt. She let him go with little
fuss then looked over at Albus and Rose, in time to see them exchange significant looks.

“I think we should go and find Aunt Ginny,” Rose stated as she started to pull Albus towards the
door, only glancing at her mother, “will you be alright here for a bit mum?”

“Oh, no,” Hermione said quickly, painfully aware of what Rose was trying to do, “I can go and
find Ginny. You two stay…”

“Actually, Aunt Hermione,” Albus said from the door, “I would really like it if you talked to
dad. I reckon he might come back if you asked him to.”

Hermione was going to protest again but Rose and Albus didn’t give her a chance, leaving her
alone with Harry before she could open her mouth. Sighing, she sat down next to his bed, taking his
hand in hers and tenderly ran her free hand down the side of his face.

“Hello Harry,” she whispered, “just so you know, you’ve got a couple of great kids there. James
and Albus are becoming real little men, though I think Albus is spending too much time with Rosie –
they seem to be able to talk to each other without actually speaking. Like we used to do…”

She paused as her voice cracked, swiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

“These past few days have been terrible,” she continued sadly, “Ron…Ron is angry with you
and…and me. I think this is it, I think we won’t be able to recover from whatever it is this time.
It’s like he really…ha…hates us.”

Once more her sorrow overtook her has she broke down, fighting for control.

“You have to come back,” she sobbed, “you have to come back, Harry. Your children need their
father! And I need you! I can’t go on…please, come back to me!”

She lent over and kissed his forehead, her hand running over the stubble of re-growing hair that
covered his scalp.

“I love you, Harry,” she whispered to him, her tears wetting his face, “I love you so much.”

She could hear loud voices in the corridor outside the quiet room and she knew that Rose was
letting her know they were returning. She kissed Harry once more before standing and stepping away
from him, just as Ginny stormed into the room.

Rose returned to Hogwarts with extra sadness as Hermione hugged her daughter at the school’s
gates like she would never let go. She stood and watched Rose walk up the long driveway until she
could no longer see her, and then with a heavy heart, she apparated home.

As soon as she stepped through the door, she knew something was wrong – the jumble of bags at
the doorway didn’t ease her anxiety.

“Ron?” she called out, first looking in the living room then the kitchen, finding both empty,
“Ron!” she called out again, making her way up the stairs and finally hearing him. She went to
their bedroom to see him shoving his clothes into a bag, “what’s going on?” she asked him, “where’s
Hugo?”

“Hugo’s with mum and dad,” he said, not looking at her, “where have you been?”

“Taking Rose to Hogwarts,” she replied, frowning, “you know that…”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled.

“What?”

“We’ve been together for nearly nineteen years, Hermione,” he growled, finally looking at her,
“so don’t lie to me! I know you’ve been to see him! I know you’ve been to St Mungo’s!”

“Rose wanted to see Harry and Albus before she went back to school,” Hermione snapped, “and
Harry is my friend…*our* friend! He may die, Ron!”

“If he does, good riddance!”

“How can you say that?” she yelled at him, her anger pulsing through her veins, “how *dare*
you say that!”

“How long have you been sleeping with him?” he demanded, turning to her with such fury, she took
a step back, “how long have you and he been shagging, huh? Just a few months? A few years? Or
perhaps you’ve been going at it since day one?”

“What?” Hermione stammered, totally lost for words.

“Oh come on, don’t deny it!” Ron snorted vehemently, “he pretty much as admitted it!”

“Harry…Harry told you we were sleeping together?”

“No,” he hissed, striding over to where she was standing, towering over her, “but he had the
gall to ask me if I was having an affair with Luna, asked me if I was sleeping around behind your
back! And when I said I wasn’t, I asked him if he was sleeping with my wife! He denied it, of
course, but I could see the lie in his eyes. That bastard looked me right in the face and lied to
me!”

“He didn’t lie!” she exclaimed, “honestly, Ron – what’s wrong with you? After everything we’ve
been through, how could you not trust us?”

“Trust you?” he growled, “do you think I’m stupid? Oh, yes, actually, you do!”

“Ron…”

“Right in front of our faces! Him giving up being an Auror to look after the kids – what a load
of shit! It was so he could be with you! That you two could have little shag sessions while the
kids slept down the hall…”

The sound of her hand connecting with his face reverberated through the room as they both glared
at each other with equal venom.

“Don’t you *dare* Ronald Weasley,” she hissed, “don’t you dare imply that the welfare of
*our* children wasn’t paramount! Harry and I have never had sex, ever! And to think we
would…”

“Do you love him?” he interrupted, his hand caressing his cheek.

“Of course I do, he’s my best friend!”

“Do you love him more than you love me?”

“Ron…” Hermione started, knowing she couldn’t lie, not now. She saw tears form in his eyes as he
realised what she wasn’t able to tell him.

“I’m going home,” he muttered, grabbed his bag then pushed past her and out the door. Hermione
couldn’t move, she just stood there in shock. It wasn’t until she heard the front door slam, that
she collapsed to her knees and sobbed.





4. chapter 4
------------

**A/N – thank you so much for all the reviews! They are fantastic. I hope you enjoy this
chapter – it took a bit longer than expected considering I only had to write the epilogue but hey,
its here now. I hope you enjoy it!! Until next time…**

She got an owl the following day saying that Hugo would be staying at The Burrow and that Ron
needed some space so she wasn’t to go anywhere near the Weasley’s for a while. Ginny had added to
the end of the note that Hermione wasn’t welcome at St Mungo’s either.

Living alone for the first time in her life, Hermione felt lost. She tried to work, but she
couldn’t concentrate so instead spent hours just thinking about what a mess everything was. Her
parents had listened to her when she had turned up on their doorstep in tears, but she only did
that once. This was her bed and she knew she had to lie in it.

It was a week later when Hermione heard the door open and Ron tentatively call out her name.
Frowning, she got up from her chair in the study and made her way down the stairs, seeing Ron
waiting for her in the entrance way. He looked as bad as she was sure she did, but no longer angry.
He seemed more…deflated.

“Hi,” he said after a moment of them looking at each other.

“Hi,” she replied, not moving from her spot on the stairs.

“Er…we need to talk,” he mumbled then made his way into the lounge. After a moment’s hesitation,
she followed him.

She found him pacing in front of the fire, his hand randomly going through his hair, making it
stick up every which way. She didn’t say anything, waiting for his first move. It was a little
while before he spoke.

“Do you love me?” he asked, stopping to look at her with such pain in his eyes, she gasped.

“Of course I do, Ron,” she breathed, “you were my first love! You are the father of my
children…”

“But not like you love Harry, right?”

“Right.”

He started pacing again.

“I thought you were it,” Ron said thoughtfully, sadly, “that you were the perfect girl for me.
Every time we rowed, I just thought that was the way it was supposed to be. I mean, we had lots of
fun too, we made each other laugh – you know?

“But now I know I was wrong, that what we have…had was wrong. That people in love don’t make
each other feel like rubbish the way we do.

“That Harry treated you better than I ever had.”

“You and I, we’re just so different…”

“Too different,” Ron sighed, “I realise that now. We shouldn’t have ever got married.”

“No, we shouldn’t have.”

“I…I’ve been talking to dad a lot,” he continued, “and he pointed out some things and I know
that I’ve got to set things right now. I…I’ve got to let you go.”

He looked at her then, his eyes full of emotion.

“I’ll shift out, go back to The Burrow,” he stated calmly, “and dissolve our marriage. Hugo…Hugo
can stay with you during the week and I thought with me in the weekend until he goes to Hogwarts.
We’ll let the children know first and then the rest of the family. I think mum will be the only one
surprised though Ginny’s going to be right annoyed.” He let out a little snort as he thought of his
sister, but then continued, “I don’t know if you know, but Harry woke up not long after you
visited. He’s going to be fine…”

“He’s awake?” Hermione gasped, unable to help herself.

“Yeah,” Ron answered, ignoring her look of relief, “which is pretty good for me ‘cause I think
many were thinking I was the one that pushed him off the cliff…”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I wanted to, but I didn’t. The stupid thing was, I had no right to get as
mad as I did. He was right about Luna, right to be suspicious. We haven’t…I haven’t done anything
wrong, but…but I want to.”

“I guess that makes us even then,” she said quietly.

“You really haven’t slept with Harry?”

“I really haven’t slept with Harry,” she answered, “but I’ve wanted to.”

Ron just nodded, lost in his own thoughts for a moment before looking back at her.

“How long have you guys been in love?”

“A long time.”

Ron nodded absently then continued.

“I…it’s going to be difficult for me for a while,” he told her, more in control, “but I’ll get
over it. Especially since now I know how what it’s like…”

“Luna?”

“Yeah.”

Ron started to head towards the door with Hermione just standing quietly, watching, her arms
wrapped around herself in some sort of comfort. She couldn’t quite believe it was actually over, or
that Ron was being so calm about it all.

“Ron,” she called to him, stopping him just before he opened the front door, “um, how ‘bout I
sort out the dissolvement since I have contacts in that area.”

“Okay, sure.”

“And…thanks.”

He gave her a small, sad smile as he opened the door.

“We had some good times, didn’t we?” he asked quietly.

“We had many *great* times, Ron,” Hermione told him, taking a deep breath as he nodded and
left the house.

The next few days were filled with finishing what began twelve years before. The dissolvement,
the wizarding equivalent to a Muggle divorce, happened with little fanfare and extremely
discretely. The children were told and accepted the situation with a compliance that told Hermione
it was expected although Hugo was more sourly than usual, losing Lily as a fellow classmate didn’t
help, and his week under the new arrangements was full of angry silences.

It wasn’t until Sunday arrived, a brisk autumn afternoon where Hermione had started on the
werewolf project once more, that she got to meet the man who had been so often in her thoughts but
out of her reach. When she opened the door and saw him standing there, she was so relieved that she
engulfed him in one of her bone crushing hugs.

“Oh, Harry,” she squealed, close to tears, “I thought I’d lost you! I thought I’d never see you
again!” She pulled away from him and held him at arms length, checking him out for any remaining
injuries, “are you okay?” she asked, concerned, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assured with a smile, “can I come in?”

“Of course!”

She followed him into the house, noticing how he limped just a little and how he still seemed so
pale. She frowned.

“I…I would’ve come sooner,” he stammered as he stopped in front of the fireplace, the same spot
Ron had stood just over a week ago, “but I haven’t had the chance to leave the house until now.
Ginny and Molly have been keeping a very good eye on me…”

“How’d you get away?”

“Ginny had to go into the office,” Harry explained, finally sitting down, “some big emergency.
Lily is at The Burrow,” he paused and looked up at her, “I needed to see you.”

“I’ve been so worried…” Hermione started, sitting down on the sofa opposite him.

“I’ve been thinking of you so much…” Harry said at exactly the same time; they both
chuckled.

“Ron’s really left?” he asked, serious once more.

“Yes,” Hermione confirmed, “the dissolvement has been finalised. We’re no longer married.”

“Wow.” He stood and went back to his spot in front of the fire, staring into the dead
embers.

“What happened, Harry?” she questioned, frowning, “at the Beacons, did…did Ron really attack
you?”

“No,” he shook his head in emphasis, “he wanted to, but no – Ron didn’t attack me.”

“Then what happened?”

“We were talking and he started going on about Luna – Luna this, Luna that,” Harry recalled, “I
remembered what you had said, that you thought they were having an affair and I called him up on
it. He denied it, accused me of sleeping with you – which I denied – and then he threw the first
punch…”

“So he did attack you!”

“It wasn’t an attack, Hermione, it was a punch,” he corrected with a smile, “unfortunately, we
were tailing someone and suddenly coming out of hiding bashing the living daylights out of each
other wasn’t particularly good at keeping our cover. Some of Lestrange’s friends saw us and that’s
when the attack started in earnest.”

“You were nearly killed.”

“I know.”

They stopped and looked at each other for a moment – he by the mantle and her sitting on the
sofa – and a silent understanding passed between them that reminded her so much of all those times
in Hogwarts where they knew what the other was thinking without having to say it.

“I’m leaving Ginny,” Harry suddenly blurted out, his eyes never leaving hers.

“What?”

“I’m leaving Ginny,” he repeated, quickly moving to her side on the sofa, sitting down and
taking her hands in his, “I can’t stay with her, Hermione, not now. It’s you, it’s always been you
and now…now is our chance!”

“Are you sure you want to do this, Harry?” she pressed, not ready to believe what she had
dreamed for for so long could soon be possible, “are you sure you want to go through
everything…”

“Yes.”

That night as she lay in bed, Hermione allowed herself to dream, to fantasise that soon Harry
will be laying next to her, that they would be together and it wouldn’t be a lie. The following
day, she tried hard to keep her mind on Hugo and his schoolwork, but she was distracted to the
point where she gave up and allowed him the afternoon to play exploding snap.

They had just had dinner when Hermione heard some yelling from downstairs as she put some
clothes away in Hugo’s room upstairs. She quickly made her way down to the noise when Ginny came
charging out of the kitchen to meet her in the dinning area, Hugo in her wake.

“You cow,” Ginny snarled, pointing her wand at Hermione’s face.

“Ginny, put the wand down,” Hermione tried to reason, cringing as she remembered her own wand
was sitting on the kitchen table, “let’s talk about this…”

“What’s there to talk about?” Ginny continued, advancing as she did so, “you stole my husband!
Not content to break up one family, you’ve decided to break up two!”

Hermione glanced over Ginny’s shoulder to see Hugo terrified eyes looking back at her. She
needed to stop this before it got any further – she needed to protect her son.

“Ginny, please…” she pleaded but was stopped by a sudden, intense pain in her arm. Glancing to
her right side, she saw a large gash running from her shoulder to her elbow, blood now staining her
t-shirt. She looked at Ginny in shock as she used her other hand to stop the blood.

“You can’t take Harry away from me,” the redhead hissed, “he’s mine! He’s always been mine!”

“Has he?” Hermione fired back, standing tall, “has he really? Because I don’t agree, Ginny. For
the longest time, it was me he turned to for help and to talk to. Not you. You only got him when
you accidentally got pregnant with James…”

“Accidentally?” Ginny scoffed, sneering in such a way her beautiful face became quite evil,
“James was no accident – I knew Harry would not desert his family.”

“You got pregnant on purpose?”

Ginny sprung around to see both Harry and Ron walk into the dinning room, both had wands raised
and Harry was furious. Hermione let herself lean against the wall, her arm throbbing in pain but
the stream of blood had, at least, lessened.

“Harry!” Ginny cried, lowering her wand and making her way over to the two men, “Ron! What are
you doing here?”

“After you left, I took Lily to her grandparents so I could come and find you,” Harry growled,
ignoring Ginny’s saccharine sweet tone, “just in time to see a distraught Hugo tell his father that
you were attacking Hermione…”

“It’s nothing less that what she deserves,” Ginny hissed, all pretence of niceness once more
gone, her wand again raised, “she dares to think she’s better than me! That you would choose her
over me!”

“I have chosen her over you,” Harry snarled.

“Lower your wand, Ginny,” Ron warned from behind Harry’s shoulder.

“Or what?” Ginny taunted, “you’ll make me? Come on, big brother – they’ve ruined your life as
well! Or have you already rolled over and accepted…”

“I’ve accepted that our lives are better lived separately,” Ron told his sister, “you had no
right to air your laundry in front of my son.”

“I have every right to tell this bitch what I think of her!” Ginny yelled, turning back to the
watching Hermione, “you think I’ll just let this go quietly? Do you think that I won’t make you the
laughing stock of the wizarding community? I won’t let you get away with this! Your name will be in
the Prophet so often…”

“No it won’t,” Ron corrected as he silently disarmed Ginny with a flick of his wrist, her wand
easily caught in his hand, “in fact you will do everything in your power to insure the stories
about our break-ups are never mentioned.”

“And let them get away with it?” Ginny sneered, “oh no, Ron – I’m going to make her life
hell!”

By this time, Harry had hurried to Hermione’s side, his concern written all over his face as he
checked her wound and healed it with a few well-trained spells. Hermione, however, was transfixed
on the stranger that was Ginny, now standing face to face with Ron.

“No you won’t,” Ron continued calmly, his anger flickering in the back of his eyes.

“And why the bloody hell not?”

“Because of your children, Ginny!” Ron growled menacingly, “because you have two boys at
Hogwarts who find life tough enough being the son of Harry bloody Potter, how do you think it would
be if you drag their names through the papers? And I can tell you right here and now, I will NOT
let you do that to Rose!”

“So you expect me to just walk away? To ignore the nineteen years I’ve given to this
relationship?”

“You manipulated me in a way that disgusts me,” Harry said, standing and facing Ginny, his voice
low and dangerous.

“I didn’t see you feeling manipulated when you made your way to my bed,” Ginny smirked, “it
takes two to make a baby, Harry.”

“You knew that our relationship was dying, that we were going to end it,” Harry continued
coldly, “you knew I was going to leave. The night James was conceived, we were still trying to make
things work but there was no way were ready to bring a child into the world and you knew that. You
had promised me on many occasions that you would respect my wishes about having kids, that we
weren’t ready…”

“We had been together for six years!” she cried, “we were the perfect couple, everyone knew we’d
get married eventually! You love me…”

“No I don’t Ginny, not anymore,” Harry turned from her and went back to Hermione, “my stuff will
be out of the house by Wednesday…”

“Lily and Hugo can stay at mum and dad’s until everything is sorted,” Ron added firmly, glancing
at his old friends but then quickly looking away, “I think the family is expecting this, especially
after me and Hermione, I know the kids are,” he gave a brief chuckle before sobering and
continuing, “you might as well shift into here, Harry. You’re going to anyway – we’ll work out the
details later.”

“Ron…” Harry started but was quickly cut off.

“No,” Ron frowned, “not yet. I can’t be friends with you yet. Just look after Hermione, will
you? We’ll give you some time to get settled and then we can work out the details. Come on Ginny,
let’s go.”

“I’m not leaving,” Ginny stated, looking mutinous.

“Yes you are,” Ron told her, then grabbed her arm, dragged her into the kitchen and flooed her
away.

Harry looked down on Hermione, holding her face gently in his hands as he searched her eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked, tenderly.

“I’m fine,” she half smiled, “I…I can’t believe this.”

“I know,” Harry agreed, “who would’ve thought that at thirty-seven Ron finally grew up…”

“I don’t want to talk about Ron,” Hermione interrupted, her hands tentatively touching his back,
“or Ginny. Harry, we’re free. We’re finally free!”

He leant towards her, resting his forehead on hers as he looked into her very soul. She could
feel his breath on her lips and all her worries, her aches and pains disappeared.

“So, what do we do now?” he asked, the venom that had been dripping from his voice just moments
ago had been replaced with such a gentle tenderness that Hermione melted.

She looked into the eyes she loved so dearly and saw a future of happiness, a future of love.
There were going to be some rough times ahead, but she knew with Harry by her side, she would get
through them – *they* would get through them.

His hands had dropped from her face to her shoulders, though their foreheads were still together
with the slightest of touches. He was waiting for an answer, but she couldn’t speak. Instead, she
kissed him – an unsure, fumbling kiss, yet the moment their lips touched, she felt like she was
finally complete, that the hole that had been inside her for so long as she had waited patiently
for this moment, was filled.

The dream had finally become a reality.

**EPILOGUE – TWO YEARS LATER**

“I don’t see why we all have to meet *Dick,*” Albus complained loudly, plonking himself
down in the restaurant’s chair, “it’s not like I haven’t met him before.”

“Well, *Richard* wants to meet the whole family,” Hermione told him patiently, manoeuvring
her extremely pregnant body into another chair, “for his article. And you need to be nice, Al, he
is your mother’s boyfriend after all.”

“Do we get a final say on what he writes, mum?” Rose asked, nudging Albus until she finally got
a smile from him, “because he really is a…”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I was you, young lady,” Hermione warned with the slightest
of smiles as Rose and Albus burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

Hermione swivelled around in her chair at the sound of James behind her, proudly carrying his
new broom that had just been purchased, the reason why he and his father were late.

“We were just talking about Dick,” Rosie giggled.

“You mean Richard,” Harry corrected, coming up to Hermione and kissing her fondly, “hey,
beautiful.”

“Yuk,” Albus groaned, “why do you guys always do that? You’re embarrassing!”

“Embarrassing?” Harry smiled evilly, “I’ll show you embarrassing!”

With that, he took Hermione’s face gently in both his hands and kissed her passionately.
Hermione played along and started emitting soft moans as she ran her hands up and down his
back.

“Bloody hell – get a room!” James exclaimed as they continued with no sign of stopping.

“Will you two pack it in,” a new voice instructed, “you’ll scarring the rug-rats!”

Hermione and Harry broke apart to see Ron walking towards them with Hugo in tow, a half- scowl
on his face.

“If they’re not scarred by now, then they’ll never be,” Harry joked as he took his seat next to
his wife before looking at the children, “you lot been good?”

A general chorus of yes’s resounded around the table as Hermione looked past Harry to see Ron
and Luna, who were just sitting down.

“How’re you going Luna?” she asked, “any problems with the baby?”

Luna ran her hand over her protruding belly, smiling serenely.

“Oh, they’re doing fine,” she answered.

“They?” Harry repeated, confused.

“Yeah,” Ron shrugged, “it seems we’re having twins…”

Whatever he was going to say next was drowned out by yells of congratulations while Ron just
grinned sheepishly as he draped an arm around his wife’s shoulders.

Hermione smiled happily as she put her hand over the movement in her abdomen, her little one
wanting to join in the celebration. It was then that she saw Ginny breeze into the restaurant, Lily
on one side and Ginny’s boyfriend, Richard, on the other. She was as beautiful as ever, her red
hair slightly curled and framing her face delicately. But Hermione no longer felt any jealousy,
even with her own hair bunched in a casual ponytail and her make-up free face showing lines and
freckles with free abandon.

“Here they are,” Ginny announced when she was close enough, Lily making her way immediately to
Hugo’s side, “Richard – this is the Weasley slash Potter slash Granger clan. Everyone, this is
Richard Saunders.”

Hello’s were exchanged, the men shook hands and Hermione waved from her immobile spot (she
wasn’t moving for anyone). Richard sat down at the head of the table, took out his notepad and
quill and looked at them all expectantly.

“I’ve heard so much about you all,” he started, his charming smile making his exceptionally
handsome face even more so, “but I must admit, seeing you all together like this is quite a
treat!”

“A treat?” James repeated, muttering under his breath, “blimey – we’re not five…” Harry gave his
son a warning glare.

“Well, I just have a few questions…”

“I’m hungry,” Hugo interrupted.

“Yeah, so am I,” Albus agreed and soon everyone voiced how they wanted to eat so it was decided
that they would have lunch before anything else. An hour and a half later, everyone had eaten,
coffee’s were served and Richard once more got his notepad and quill out, ready for his
interview.

“This won’t take long,” he smiled, “I have the bulk of the article already written…”

“I can’t believe that you’re getting a whole article written about you,” Ron said, looking at
Ginny, “I mean, you’re not *that* famous.”

“I’m the youngest editor of the Prophet, old or new, *ever*, Ron,” Ginny informed her
brother smartly, “and believe it or not, that makes me famous! People want to know who I am.”

“Are you going to be Ginny Weasley or Ginny Potter?” Luna asked innocently.

“Both,” Ginny answered, then when she got a few puzzled looks, she clarified with, “Ginny
Potter-Weasley.”

“Of course,” Ron smirked while Hermione dipped her head to hide her smile.

A lot had happened in the last two years, including Ginny’s recent promotion to chief editor of
the New Daily Prophet. More than that, though, the youngest Weasley had finally got over the
break-up of her marriage and moved on. It had taken her a long time before she accepted Harry and
Hermione’s relationship and even now things between her and the new Potters were pretty tense.

The fact that she was still determined to keep Harry’s name after everything she had put them
through made Hermione chuckle. Ginny was definitely one of a kind.

“So, if you and D…” Rose started, pausing when she got a warning from her mother,
“…*Richard* get married, will you be Ginny Potter-Weasley-Saunders?”

“Rosie!” Hermione scolded while Ron let out a large snort – Harry just smiled.

“I don’t think that is an issue at this stage,” Ginny answered stiffly before turning to her
boyfriend, “Richard, are you ready?”

“Of course,” Richard acknowledge with a nod, “I think everyone should introduce themselves so I
can put a face to the name. How about we start with you?”

“Oh, er,” Hugo began nervously, suddenly put on the spot, “I’m Hugo Weasley…”

“Son of Ron and Hermione, right?”

“Yep,” Hugo confirmed, “but now I live with dad and Luna.”

“Right,” Richard noted, then looked to Hugo’s neighbour, “now, I know this beautiful young lady
– Lily Potter…”

“Actually, Lily Weasley,” Lily corrected, “I took mum’s name after the dissolvement.”

“You did?” Richard questioned, glancing between the still smiling Harry and Lily, “why?”

“Well, I wanted to live with mum and – I don’t know, I just wanted to be a Weasley.”

“Righto,” Richard said, then scribbled furiously before moving around the table, “of course, the
lady of the hour, Ginny, and then…”

“James Potter, son of Harry and Ginny and I kinda live between them both when I’m not at
Hogwarts.”

Hermione frowned slightly as James stated his details with some cold detachment. Out of all of
the children, James had been the only one who didn’t ‘chose’ which family he preferred and had
found the separation of his parents difficult. When out of Hogwarts, he spent some time with one
household and some time at the other, not really wanting to be with either.

Harry and Hermione made sure he was felt welcome whenever he showed up and although James was
given a certain amount of freedom that many other fourteen year olds didn’t have, he was still
disciplined when needed. However, the term ‘sourly teenager’ definitely applied to the oldest of
the five children.

“Excellent,” Richard acknowledged, “and we all know who you are, Harry.”

“Yep,” Harry smirked, “Harry bloody Potter, father of five, nearly six, husband of this lovely
lady next to me, ex-husband of your lovely lady and soon to be professor of Defence Against the
Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

“I still can’t believe you’re going to be our teacher,” Albus humphed, “I mean, how could they
agree to let you teach when there’s five of us still at school? It’s bad enough that we have to
study you in History of Magic!”

“You’ll get used to it, kiddo,” Harry informed his son.

“Righto,” Richard interrupted, trying to get back control, “which leads us to you, Hermione
Potter, and then…”

“Actually, I’m Hermione Granger,” Hermione corrected.

“*Doctor* Hermione Granger,” Harry added, giving her a one armed hug.

“You kept your maiden name?” Richard quizzed.

“Yes…”

“I thought it was just because she didn’t want to be a Weasley,” Ron interjected from down the
table, “but when she didn’t take Harry’s name either, it seems she’s just determined to be a
Granger. Bonkers.”

“Oh, okay,” Richard nodded, looking at Ron before crossing out what he had written, scribbled
the correction and then, “so that makes you…?”

“Rose Granger,” Rosie proclaimed proudly.

“Granger?”

“Yes,” Rose continued on, “when mum and dad, that is Hermione and Ron, separated I wanted to
stay with mum and since mum is the last Granger – I wanted to be a Granger too. So I’m Rose
Granger.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense,” Richard frowned, shrugged, then turned his attention to Albus,
“which brings us to young Albus…”

“Most call me Albie or Al,” he muttered, “I’ve told you that already.”

“And next to you is Ron and Luna Weasley…”

“I’m Luna Lovegood.”

“Yep,” Ron quipped before anyone could say anything, “another wife who doesn’t want to be a
Weasley!”

“This all awfully confusing,” Richard observed as he read his notes.

“No it isn’t,” Rose stated matter-of-factly, “Albus and I live with Harry and Hermione, who we
call mum and dad…”

“Though mum – I mean Ginny – is also my mum…” Albus added.

“And Ron is also my dad with Luna being my step-mum, but I just call her Luna…”

“…so do I,” Al agreed.

“Hugo is my brother, but he lives with dad – Ron – and Luna…”

“…and Lily is my sister but lives with Ginny…”

“…and James kinda lives with whoever he wants,” Rose continued, thinking, “Ginny stayed in the
house she and Harry had when they were married; our house got sold and we shifted to Godric’s
Hollow which is where Granddad and Grandmother Potter used to live…”

“…it’s brilliant there,” Al put in wistfully.

“…while Ron and Luna built a place in Ottery St Catchpole…”

“…which is also pretty cool…”

“…and when we’re not in school, we spend time at each place though Hugo and I don’t stay with
Ginny…”

“…and Lily, James and I don’t stay a lot with Ron and Luna…”

“…but we all get on pretty well…”

“…though James can be a bit of a git sometimes…”

“Bugger off Al,” James growled, glaring at his baby brother.

“…and it’s kind of like we’re all one big family any way…”

“…although it wasn’t always like this…”

“…so there you go. Simple.”

“Yep, simple.”

There was a stunned silence as everybody stared at Rose and Albus, who stared back with smug
satisfaction. Hermione shook her head in wonder – her daughter and step-son had a relationship that
was so uniquely special that it constantly amazed her how close the two of them actually were.

“Er, right,” Richard said, flashing an uncertain grin, “that makes everything perfectly clear.
Just a couple of things – how long have you and Hermione been married, Harry?”

“Fourteen months,” Harry answered without hesitation.

“And the baby is due…?”

“At the end of September…”

“Which is why I shouldn’t have to go to school tomorrow,” Rose declared, “this baby could come
any time now so I should be here!”

“You will be the first we call when it all happens, Rosie,” Hermione told her daughter with a
smile.

“How about you, Ron?” Richard asked, “and Luna, of course. How long have you two been
married?”

“Um, it was a year in August…”

“So you got married not long after Harry and Hermione?”

“Yeah, we wanted to wait until they came back from their honeymoon and got settled into Godric’s
Hollow,” Ron explained.

“Ginny told me you were Harry’s best man and visa versa,” Richard continued, the table suddenly
going very quiet as everyone realised where the questions were going, “was there no…animosity after
everything that happened.”

“Actually, I’m sure Ginny has already told you the ins and outs about what happened between us,”
Ron answered coolly, “and I don’t feel comfortable discussing it all in front of the kids, so…”

“Of course, how insensitive of me, I’m so sorry,” Richard gushed, not looking sorry at all,
“well, that’s it, I think. Thank you all…”

“You got us all together just to get introductions?” Hugo exclaimed with a frown, “I don’t get
it!”

As the others joined in with Hugo’s displeasure of spending their last free afternoon before
going to school in the presence of not one but three sets of parents, Hermione took the time to
look around the table.

It had taken Ron a month and half before he spoke to Harry and could deal with Hermione when not
talking about the kids. But as Ron and Luna’s relationship grew, so did his forgiveness towards
Harry and Hermione. By the time Ginny finally let Harry go, allowing him to marry Hermione, Ron was
once more the friend he used to be and it was the four of them that planned the small, family
wedding.

It had taken twenty years to for them all to end up where they were supposed to be, twenty years
of realising that though they were happy – they could be happier. Twenty years of finding who they
were instead of who the world expected them to be and understanding the two weren’t necessarily the
same. But for Hermione, those twenty years of watching and growing with Harry as a friend and not a
lover meant that she knew him better than he knew himself – as he did her – and together they were
so much stronger than they would’ve been if they had married straight from school.

She looked at Harry then, watching his profile as he listened to something Ron was saying. He
must have felt her stare, as he turned to her and smiled, his eyes twinkling. She smiled back and
took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

“I love you,” she said softly so that no one else could hear. A little twinge of surprise
crossed his face before he leant forward and kissed her gently.

“I love you too,” he whispered before a cry of disgust from Albus at the show of affection made
Hermione grin, roll her eyes and turn her attention once more to her wonderful family.