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In Our Bedroom, After the War by VipyGirl831
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In Our Bedroom, After the War

VipyGirl831

The Ghost of Genova Heights

You did wrong that you thought was good,

And now you're back in the neighborhood.
I see you when I never should,

Now you're back in the neighborhood.

August 25, 2017

"Mum? I know Unforgivables are really, really horrid, but I think someone would have the right idea if they used one of them on the bloke who invented the Floo."

Hermione laughed gently. "I hardly think the Floo is that bad, Rose."

"Ug-I think I'd rather eat a week of your cooking than take the Floo once."

"Rose Weasley!"

She was saved from a scolding by her brother's arrival through the fireplace.

"I love Flooing!"

Rose looked at him in disgust. "How am I even related to you?"

Hugo, with graceful maturity, stuck out his tongue.

"Hermione! Hugo! Rose!"

"Hello Aunt Ginny!" Replied the children simultaneously, rushing over to give hugs and kisses.

"Where's Ron?"

Hermione couldn't resist a roll of the eyes. "Running late as usual."

Ginny, looking slightly cross at Hermione, opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by Rose.

"Aunt Ginny, you look quite pretty today."

Hermione really did love her daughter.

"Why thank you Rose!" Ginny beamed at the young girl. "You look quite pretty yourself!"

"Thanks Aunt Ginny. Hugo and I are going to find Al, James, and Lily now. Are they upstairs?"

"Yes, sweetie. Run on up and find them."

The children thundered away; Hermione heard their shouts of greeting after a moment or two.

"Rose is such a dear." Ginny gushed.

"Yes, I'm quite lucky to have her."

Ginny laughed. "More than you know! Do you know what the chance of having a girl with a Weasley man is? A Weasley man hasn't had a girl in-" She paused, thinking. "Four generations, aside from me and Victoire, but I was a 7th try, and Victoire, well, that's Veela blood influence for you. And to top it all off, you had Rose on your first try. Lucky, lucky woman."

"Oh yes, very lucky." Hermione said with a bitter half smile.

Ginny did not appear to notice.

An awkward silence descended on them.

"How's work, Hermione?"

"Oh, rather well thank you. And how's the Daily Prophet?"

"Fine. Things have been slow."

"That's nice."

"Yes."

Internally, Hermione cringed. She was not sure whether her guilt or Ginny's mistrust caused such an uncomfortable tension between the two of them, but it never failed to make her squirm.

She rather hated visiting the Potters.

"Ginny, can we make the potatoes scalloped? You know that Hermione likes them-" Harry came round the corner, freezing at the sight of her. "Hello, Hermione."

"Harry."

Ginny, as usual, moved closer toward Harry. "But the all rest of us like them mashed, Harry." She turned to Hermione. "You don't mind, do you, Hermione?"

"Of course not."

Harry hates mashed potatoes. But I suppose I shouldn't know things like that.

"Okay." Harry moved back toward the kitchen.

"I better go help him, Hermione." Ginny supplied with a tight smile. "Make yourself at home, of course."

"Thanks, Ginny." She did not bother to ask if they needed help; she knew Ginny prevented her from spending any more time with Harry than was necessary.

Women's intuition, she supposed.

She headed toward the library-the only room in the house that was not made up in Ginny's version of perfection. She felt mildly comfortable there, in comparison to the rest of the house.

When she reached the large, oak, double doors, she noticed they were cracked open, with voices coming from within.

"-you think Al?" She caught.

"I dunno-"

She was about to push open the doors when Rose's next question stopped her.

"But don't you think it's weird, how they act around each other?"

"Sure it's weird, but I dunno why."

Hermione tensed, hoping they would stop talking.

Al continued after a short pause. "It's-well-like they see each other as two different people."

"What?"

"Well, Dad talks about Aunt Hermione all the time, but I hardly ever see him talk to her. It's like the Aunt Hermione in his stories isn't the Aunt Hermione he sees in real life. Something's-well-different."

"That's how Mum is as well!" Rose sounded almost excited. "I just wish I knew why."

"I guess something happened in-between the times of their stories and now."

"But-" Rose began, frustrated. "It's not like they don't like each other any more-because they do, so I don't think they had a big fight a long time ago."

"It doesn't make any sense."

Hermione wished she could make herself move and interrupt the conversation; a dangerous fascination, however, held her in place.

"I asked Dad about it once. He said that sometimes, people just drift apart. I didn't understand, but then again, I don't think anyone does, really."

"Except my dad and your mum."

"Hermione?"

She jumped, spinning around to find Harry behind her.

She wished he would tease her about eavesdropping; nudge her with a crooked smile or huddle up next to her; whisper in her ear, asking what she'd heard.

Like he used to.

Instead he stared at her blankly.

"Time for dinner?"

"Yes."

"I'll get Rose and Al."

He nodded and walked away.

She hated coming to the Potter house.

It only reminded her of what she had lost.

A/N: I think Rose would be a pretty perceptive kid; anyone with a combination of Harry and Hermione's genes would have to be.

Sorry for the extended wait on this chapter. School work caught up with me and then yesterday was the premier of LOST-'nough said.

I've have out another chapter very soon, I promise.