Best Friends Having Lunch

Title: Best Friends Having Lunch

Author: AddisonJ

Chapter 1:

“I’ve always liked flower names for girls.”

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that would be JK Rowling; but I really like the world she created.

Incorporates the epilogue; hence, angst for us Harmony shippers.

A/N: This is my first Harry Potter fic! Please read and review! And hang on, Chapter 2 is cheerier.

Thanks to my beta, Tears of Mercury.

“Hermione, over here!”

Harry Potter waved his hand in the air so his best friend, Hermione Granger, could see that he had already secured a table for them. The best friends were having lunch, as they did every week. It was their time away from work and significant others, away from the press and fans, and away from the past and its expectations as well, if they wanted to. It was time for the best friends to sit and chat and just enjoy each other’s company.

Hermione gave Harry a smile and shook out her robes. She then gave him a big hug and kiss on the cheek, which he responded by squeezing her just as strongly back. When the hug ended, she sat in the seat next to him at the small table in the café. It was a hidden, out-of-the way spot that they preferred to the more popular restaurants on Diagon Alley. Harry had found it while on a stakeout as an Auror. The food was good, cheap, and the dining room was quiet enough to have a chat, with enough privacy if needed and enough exits in the unlikely event of needing to escape the few Death Eaters that still caused havoc in the wizarding world. The steak and kidney pie was excellent as well.

“Harry! I hope you weren’t waiting long! I had to review a report Millicent completed and it was due in an hour. I’d owl, but I knew I wouldn’t be too too late.” Hermione started with her apologies, but Harry just looked sympathetic and patted her hand.

“No worries. I knew you’d be here. I was only here a minute before you,” he smiled in that lovely way of his.

“Busy day?” she asked, her smile reflecting his.

He nodded a bit humbly. Harry had been just promoted to lead an Auror team, one of the youngest wizards to do so. But Harry was Harry, and always kept his accomplishments hidden under a barrel. No, it wasn’t as grand as saving the wizarding world from You-Know-Who, but Harry was always humble.

“A bit busy,” he agreed. “Need to learn some more about the team. And a bit more paperwork and all that.”

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look and patted the arm her hand still touched. “There, now. You’ll do wonderfully. You always do. And if there is anything you need from me…”

“Hermione, you’ve helped enough. And we do have a librarian on staff—“ Hermione’s eyebrows raised and Harry hurried to continue before Hermione could criticize the librarian skills of Madam Elkfort “—but we’ll be fine. If there is anything at all that I think I need your help with, you know I won’t hesitate to ask. And you’re free to refuse and say you’re too busy.” Harry placed his hand gently over hers. She smiled.

“Anything for you, Harry.”

Their eyes met and stayed that way until the waitress came to take their orders.

“The usual, loves?’ she asked. They had the same waitress most days. She was discrete enough not to say their names or act impressed that two celebrities would be regulars. And she certainly never contacted the Daily Prophet. No, these lunches were discrete. Not secrets -- both Ron and Ginny knew about them, but never asked to attend. It was as if they knew the two best friends needed some private time away from the busyness of the Weasleys.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and laughed. It was the same every week. “Yes,” Harry responded, “the usuals,” and handed the menus back. The waitress smiled as well, being in on the joke. She clucked a bit under her tongue as she moved away, giving them privacy.

They talked. They talked about everything and nothing. They were just happy to be alone together, to not have to worry about interruptions from others wanting their attention. They could just be themselves.

They were so close. Best friends since they were eleven years old. Ron was part of the Trio as well, of course, but these lunches were just for Harry and Hermione. Harry and Ron would have alone time when they went to Quidditch matches together. Hermione and Ron had alone time every day before and after work. But Harry and Hermione needed these lunches. They needed to be just themselves. And today, Hermione needed to talk to Harry about what had happened at the Sunday dinner at the Burrow the past Sunday.

They talked about Teddy and Neville and Luna for a bit as Hermione recognized that Harry was avoiding the topic that she needed to discuss. The topic that caused him to meet her eyes with surprise and concern the Sunday before. She couldn’t talk then; too many Weasleys were jumping over Ron and her, giving them hugs and shouting congratulations. All Harry could do was give her a quick hug and smile when there was a free moment, but Ginny interrupted with her squeals of joy and hugged both Hermione and Ron together.

“I knew it would happen!” Ginny exclaimed while Molly dabbed her eyes.

“I’m so happy for you two!” Molly wept tears of joy and gave them more hugs.

“So…” Harry started. They had already started eating their steak and kidney pies when Harry finally started the conversation he had wanted to have last Sunday. The conversation with his best friend, to find out how she really felt about Ron’s announcement. About how their lives were about to change significantly.

“So…” Hermione added, trying to avoid the inevitable.

“Pregnant?” Harry said, somewhere between a statement and a question.

Hermione nodded vigorously, trying not to think too deeply about it all and how it complicated everything. “Yes, pregnant!’ She looked at Harry for a moment, then darted her eyes back to the meal before her.

“Well,” Harry breathed, “our children will be at Hogwarts together.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide and she had a false smile plastered on her face as she focused on her fork. “Yes.”

Harry put a hand on hers to still the movement of her fork. Hermione glanced up to look into his eyes and she knew it was a mistake, because the moment he said “’Mione,” she remembered.

***

She remembered.

She remembered the Horcrux hunt. The days in the tent when Ron was gone. The tired, the cold, the frustration, the fear. The fear of never knowing if that day would be their last, if evil would win.

In one of those nights, Hermione lay weeping in bed. The tiredness, the fear, the frustration, was coming to a head and Hermione just needed to cry and let it all out. Harry came to her, comforting her, hugs that turned into gentle caresses that turned into kisses that turned into much more.

Later, when Ron had to destroy the locket and saw his greatest fears, seeing Harry and Hermione coupling, Harry said that Hermione was like a sister. He said it to keep Ron sane, to focus on their mission.

They never talked about it. They were too busy looking for Horcruxes, then finding out about the Deathly Hallows, escaping from Death Eaters, then destroying Voldemort. They would never talk about it, but… sometimes they would exchange this look. This look that would remind the other of what had happened, of what they did, of how they comforted each other with no plans for the future, for living in the moment because that moment may be their last, for progressing their relationship along a fast track because it was war and they may not live to see another day.

In one of their rare lighter moments, they had discussed children’s names. How Muggle names could be so different from wizard names. What Muggle would name their child Nymphadora? And that’s when Hermione said,

“I’ve always liked flower names for girls.”

She was looking directly at Harry when she had said it, and he had looked right back at her. It was a look that said maybe…maybe when this is all over, there will be time for us. There will be time for a little cottage somewhere far away from the madness where we can rest and forget and have little children, little girls with bushy dark hair and green eyes with flower names.

“Oy! Is that food ready yet?” Ron’s voice had broken their stare. He was hungry and couldn’t be bothered with the discussion. “I’m starving!”

Hermione had looked away first. Had she said too much? Did she expect too much? They never discussed the future, but in that glance she knew … she knew Harry was thinking the same as she. They were like two halves of a whole. They completed each other’s sentences. Yes, they fought, but it wasn’t the ridiculous juvenile sibling-like fights that Ron and Hermione shared. It was a higher level based on larger issues.

They didn’t discuss it. That was the problem. They didn’t share with anyone what happened. So, when the war was over and Voldemort destroyed, the expectation was that Harry would go back to Ginny and Hermione would end up with Ron. What happened was that Harry traveled the world for a year while Hermione went back to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year. She wrote him every day to tell him about how they were rebuilding the school under McGonagall as headmaster, how more Muggle borns were attending and how she wanted to join the Ministry of Magic and fight for the rights of the Muggles and half-bloods to prevent the likes of Voldemort from happening again. Harry, when he did write back and it was more than a sentence or two, fully supported her passion and her beliefs. Ron, on the other hand, decided not to complete his seventh year and instead became a professional Quidditch player. He traveled and begged Hermione to drop her studies and join him on the road. Harry knew that was a ridiculous demand to someone like Hermione, whose love of learning would not be satisfied sitting in Quidditch stands all day.

When Harry returned, that was a chance for the two to explore their feelings for each other, but there never seemed to be the right moment. They fell back into the Trio of best friends who acted like siblings. Except Ron was laying claims on Hermione and Hermione was hoping Harry would stake his claim but he did not. Why? Did he want Ron to feel that he was more than just the second banana? That he had a right to try to win Hermione’s affection? But Harry didn’t try. For whatever reason, he sat back and let Ron woo Hermione.

Hermione was puzzled. But Ginny clung to Harry, and Harry didn’t resist, so Hermione stopped having the wistful dreams of the cottage by the shore and the bushy black haired girls with green eyes and flower names.

When they finally did talk, it was too late. Ginny had comforted Harry when he was upset, and one thing led to another, and Ginny became pregnant. Of course Harry married her; that was the way he was. He would not have a child of his without a parent. He would do the right thing, even if it meant losing the one thing that meant the most to him in the whole world.

Harry avoided Hermione’s eyes at the small wedding at the Burrow. It was difficult, since Hermione was a bridesmaid and Ron the best man. Hints that Ron and Hermione were next were thickening the air around them.

Hermione finally found Harry alone between dances. She seized the chance. “Dance with me, Harry.” It was not a request but a statement. “Dance with me, for old time’s sake.”

It was not a remembrance of Hogwarts, of fighting trolls and flying thestrals. It was a remembrance of clinging to each other in a tent in the woods.

“Why?” Hermione had asked the question the moment she was in Harry’s arms and the music had started. They kept their distance from each other, as Harry tried to not look into her angry brown eyes. “Why Harry? I thought…” but she could not complete the sentence. She knew that he knew the rest of the words.

“It …. happened and I have to take responsibility,” he said, each word sinking heavily into their hearts.

“But … us” she whispered, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“I know,” he brought his head close to her ear and whispered. “I know. I wish -- I wish it was different. I wish -- I wished it was us. I wish you were in white today.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed and she stared at him. He had never declared himself in love with her, he had never mentioned marriage, but here it was, and here it was, his wedding day to Ginny. “Oh, Harry,” she nearly sobbed.

But she could not lose composure on the dance floor. She was the best friend. It was his wedding. They were surrounded by happy Weasleys and that was that.

Ron and Hermione announced their engagement two weeks later.

***

Last Sunday, at the Burrow, Ron announced that Hermione was expecting.

Harry knew that Ron and Hermione’s marriage was having difficulties. He knew enough of each of them to know that it wasn’t right, that it wasn’t working out as well as they would have liked. And really, if one really thought about it, it was inevitable. The war brought them together. Harry brought them together. Without that glue, Hermione would remain the bossy bookworm and Ron the genial athlete. She would follow the rules and he would break them. She would be ambitious and overachieve while he would do just enough to get by. As 2/3s of the Trio, it would seem they should have wedded bliss, but those who knew them well, and who refused to simply nod and agree, would know that it was not the best of matches.

Hermione was contemplating divorce. And then she got pregnant.

Meanwhile, at the Potter-Weasley residence, all was not bliss either. Ginny and Harry were growing apart. She took care of the children and he was busy with work, but they had little in common other than the children. She adored being Harry Potter’s wife and all the notoriety that brought. He abhorred the spotlight and preferred to putter about in the back garden, or visit the Grangers and help them with odd jobs around the house. Hermione’s parents loved Harry. Ron was never quite comfortable with their Muggle lives, but Harry, being raised by Muggles, fit right in. he was polite and deferential to the two dentists, and treated their only daughter with care. The Doctors Granger had hoped that Hermione and Harry would one day be a match, but, Ron seemed alright. Hermione would never complain to them, especially after they thought she was too young to marry, and she still felt horribly guilty about sending them to Australia during the war. She didn’t want to bring any more strife into their lives.

***

Present day. Back at the Café:

“Pregnant?” Harry’s question carried the complications that she had tried to forget: the failing marriage, the impact on her career advancement at the Ministry, the fading hopes that they would ever be together.

“Pregnant,” she answered with a sad resignation. She had a tight smile and lifted her eyes to meet his. “I’ve always wanted kids. Ron would be a great dad. He’ll teach them to ride a broom and I’ll scream for their safety.”

Harry smiled and nearly laughed at her attempt to break the tension. “You’ll give them a love of learning and a sense of justice,” he replied quietly, seriously.

The best friends held their hands tight. Through it all, they would have each other.

Best friends having lunch don’t dwell on the fact that they were drifting apart from their spouses. They don’t dwell on lost opportunities. Don’t dwell on the past, on the dashed hopes. So instead, they talked about work. Talked about Teddy and Neville and Luna. Talked about everything except what’s really important, what they really wanted to say. Didn’t talk about nulling wedding bands or doing something for their own selfish reasons. Didn’t talk about disappointing others and running away together. Doing something just for them. Doing something that would cause a world of hurt in the short run, which would make the front page of the Daily Prophet and heap scorn on the Boy-Who-Lived. Doing something that would lead to their own happiness …

No, instead they eat their steak and kidney pie, and chat about Teddy and Neville and Luna. Chat about what is, not what might have been. Chat about reality, not dreams. Chat about today, not yesterday or tomorrow. Chat about their lives married to people who loved them more than they could love them back. Accept their lives. Accept the disappointments. Accept the expectations. Accept the sadness and the melancholy. Make the most of it. Spend that time before waking up, when they are between awake and sleep, dreaming. Dreaming of coupling in a tent in the woods, coupling with a girl with bushy hair and a boy with green eyes and the girl saying, “I’ve always liked flower names for girls.”

A/N: This plot bunny hit me when I realized that Hermione/Ron also named their daughter a flower name. It’s my first Harry Potter fic, so please review. Chapter 2 is cheerier.

Title: Best Friends Having Lunch

Author: AddisonJ

Chapter 2: “Isn’t it Obvious?”

17 Years after Chapter 1

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter.

A/N: I had written Chapter 1, which is full of angst, and could not go back to edit it for weeks, because I did not want to go through those feelings of melancholy again. Then, I read a Pride and Prejudice fan fiction by Jane Greensmith called “All I Do” set in an alternative universe that takes Darcy and Elizabeth 20 years to the happy ever after. Going through such disappointment and sadness to a happy ending in that short story made me envision this second part to what was supposed to be a one-shot.

If you enjoy angst, don’t bother to continue. Otherwise, please read and review.

And yes, there is death and divorce but no affairs. (It’s difficult to write a Harmony happy ending in a post-epilogue world without death and/or divorce. Believe me, I tried.)

Canon note: I made Albus a year older than Rose. He had already left Hogwarts but Rose is a seventh year.

Thanks to my beta, Tears of Mercury!

XXX

Two best friends having lunch. Nothing unusual there. They had known each other for 3/4^th of their lives, since they met on the Hogwarts Express as first years.

Two best friends having lunch. It used to be a weekly event when they were young adults starting lives as husband, wife, mother, father, married to others who happened to be a brother and sister named Weasley. Before that, it wasn’t just weekly but a daily occurrence in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Now, the circle has closed and it was once again a daily occurrence at the Great Hall of Hogwarts as Professor Potter and Professor Granger (or Granger-Weasley, but never just Weasley) dined on soup at the high table of the Great Hall, no longer at the Gryffindor table. No, instead some of their children sat at the Gryffindor table or the Ravenclaw table– none at the Slytherin table.

The two best friends always sat together, side by side. They spoke to each other. One would wonder how they managed to still find topics to discuss after 30 years of friendship, but that sort of rhetorical question could easily be answered by spending just a few minutes in their company, or by knowing the personalities of those involved: one, a talkative know-it-all, the other a more taciturn yet still verbal man. Together, they defeated the Darkness and brought back the Light. As young adults, they contributed each in their own way, one as an Auror, working with the former husband of the other; the other, as an employee of the Ministry of Magic, becoming the expert of the rights of magical creatures such as centaurs, giants, werewolves, and house elves. Thanks to the efforts of Madame Granger-Weasley (as was her surname at the time), the rights of the underclass magical creatures had been greatly expanded. Not to the full rights as Madame Granger-Weasley would have wanted (the resistance of the old pureblood families was nearly insurmountable), but she had made greater strides than many thought possible. So why did Madame Granger- Weasley retire early from her profession as a prosecutor of Wizengamot ? Could it be her divorce from the missing piece of the Golden Trio? Or the fact that her youngest had enrolled at Hogwarts and she wanted to be near him? Or that, shortly after the final divorce decree, the wife of her best friend had died suddenly, to a Muggle disease, nonetheless, a heart aneurysm. One moment Ginny was choosing drapes for the sitting room and the next, she was on the floor, lifeless.

Harry was distraught, of course. So was everyone else. Molly and Arthur Weasley had never expected to lose another child, not after they lost Fred in the War, and not their youngest, their only girl. Widowed, Harry transferred to a more administrative role in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; his work as an Auror was dangerous, and since his own three children had already lost one parent, he didn’t want them to lose another so quickly.

Knowing Harry as well as she did, Hermione knew what he would say and what he would not say. The Boy-Who-Lived was also the Boy-Who-Lived-Under-the-Stairs and still had difficulty expressing emotion. Defeating the Dark Lord certainly reduced his overall anxiety level, but having a traumatic childhood, from abuse in the house of his Muggle relatives to having his life threatened and nearly dying at least annually while he was at Hogwarts (he did receive an honorary degree for the missing seventh year when they were hunting and destroying Horcruxes), Harry still kept most of his feelings to himself. Ginny understood that and let him be. That was the Harry she knew and loved. Hermione knew that and pushed him when needed. She was also able to know his thoughts without his speaking. So, when Harry became a widower, she mourned the loss of Ginny, and she became quite active in the Potter family. She looked after the children, looked after their father, looked after her own children and made sure Ron was handling it as well as could be expected (but he did have Lavender Brown to help him through. Harry had no one else.). Hermione knew the Weasleys would fold together in their grief, but Harry … Harry would be Harry. He would say he was fine, but grow all quiet, a shell of himself. That’s when he would find Hermione at his house, making sandwiches, checking that laundry gets done and dishes put away. Checking on the children at Hogwarts and young James as a new Auror. That’s when many owls were sent to Hogwarts for the Potter and Weasley children from their Mum/ Aunt Hermione, letting them know that they were loved and cared for, and that someone is looking out for their Dad.

No one was really surprised when Harry accepted the Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship. The position had been a revolving door for decades, as if waiting for Harry Potter to be ready to take it. But when Headmistress McGonagall offered the position of History of Magic to the Wizengamot’s most successful prosecutor, there was a bit of a surprise. It wasn’t her best subject, but Hogwarts: A History was her favorite book (with the exception of the chapters on the Golden Trio and the Defeat of Voldemort, which were written a bit too much in the style of Rita Skeeter for Hermione’s taste). Why would a rising star at the Ministry basically retire to the wilds of Scotland? No one who really knew Hermione and Harry would ask that question. Indeed, no one would, who saw them as they were now, sitting side by side eating lunch at the Great Hall at Hogwarts, as they had everyday for several years now.

***

Lily Potter and Hugo Weasley did not ask that question at the Gryffindor table.

“They love each other,” Lily’s best friend, Constance Bruce, whispered to her.

“They’ve always loved each other,” her other best friend, Sapna Patel whispered back.

“Not that your Mum never loved your Dad, but look at them. They complete each other’s sentences. They butter each other’s toast. When Professor Granger starts to leave the table, Professor Potter moves the chair for her. When Professor Potter has research to do, he goes to Professor Granger for advice. They’re like two parts of a whole. It’s so obvious they were meant to be – no offense, Lily, but look at them. Even a blind man can see that it’s so bloody obvious.”

“Did you notice how they always seem to stand near each other? And Professor Potter often has his hand on Professor Granger’s elbow or back or shoulder? And how Professor Granger always gives Professor Potter a quick kiss on the cheek to say hello and goodbye?”

“Those kisses seem to be getting longer lately. And they started looking at each other – quite quickly, mind you – but they started looking at each other even when with other people, doing other things.”

“I think you need to spend your time reading the Witch Weekly and not staring at my Dad and Aunt,” Lily finally and quite angrily interrupted her gossiping friends. Lily would join the gossip if it were about celebrities or that cute Hufflepuff in fifth year. She’d prefer it not be about her family, especially her father. She understood his desire to avoid any publicity and lead as private a life as possible. And she certainly did not want to tell her gossipy friends about a family meeting the week before.

***

“He’s shagging her,” Scorpius Malfoy drawled to his best friend, Rose Weasley. They had been discussing Quidditch strategy at her Ravenclaw table when he looked up, stared at her mother and uncle in that Slytherin/Malfoy way of his, and drawled that statement.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Rose said angrily. “Can we focus? I’m worried about the Hufflepuff defense this year. They’re quite a determined lot.”

Scorpius glanced at Rose’s angry face, then turned his eyes once again to the other two best friends eating lunch. He was silent for a bit, lazily eating his apple and staring under half-lidded eyes, but Rose knew him well enough to know that he would not leave well enough alone. He had to show off his superior deduction talents. Scorpius had this uncanny ability to size people up immediately, by reading those unspoken clues in mannerisms, tone of voice, behavior. He sized her up first year as a worthy recipient of his friendship, even though she was half-Muggle and related to Potter. He seemed to know they’d be best friends and a tenacious offense in Quidditch. Rose braced herself for his next statement.

“Look there!” he suddenly stopped eating the apple to point to the head table where Rose only saw professors eating. “When your Mum dropped her napkin, they both reached for it. Potter’s hand reached it after your Mum, but his thumb brushed her palm as she grabbed the napkin off the floor and they exchanged a look. The sort of look that says ‘I’ll see you later – in my bed.’” Rose rolled her eyes at Malfoy, who, of course, continued with a smirk, “I know that look; I’d give you that look if I could. It’s all so bloody obvious.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Rose repeated, then tried to distract herself with a swig of pumpkin juice. She could discuss most things with Scorpius, but this was not one of them. Maybe later when it all was not so fresh …

Her eyes sought out those with whom she could discuss it – Hugo Weasley and Lily Potter. Lily met her eyes immediately with a pleading look. Lily took after her father, gentle and brave, but not a talker. Hugo took after his father, willingly oblivious if he wanted to be. Lily looked desperate. No wonder, sitting with Constance and Sapna, who were undoubtedly on the same topic as Malfoy, judging from their eyes going between the head table and Lily, and Lily’s pale face flushing pink. Rose glanced at Hugo. No issues there. He and his mates kept their eyes to themselves and seemed to be laughing about something. Definitely not discussing the bedroom antics of their parents. Yet Hugo knew to glance up, see his sister’s face, look at Lily, and know when to make an exit.

“Well, gotta go. No rest for the wicked. See you in Charms, my friends,” he addressed his friends and made a swift exit to join his sister outside.

“Argh! I’m going to the library. You can gossip about my father and aunt with me out of earshot now.” Lily made a less smooth exit.

Rose grabbed Scorpius’ apple, took a bite, and handed it back to him, ignoring his disgusted look. “Later, Malfoy. Let me know when you’re ready to discuss Quidditch or your career goal as the next Rita Skeeter,” she drawled back to the Slytherin as she exited to Malfoy’s briefly surprised then knowing look. (Scorpius had that knowing look once he saw Lily and Hugo leave the Great Hall at the same time as Rose.)

“Constance and Sapna guessed,” Lily said immediately, her emotions too upset to start with pleasantries. No real need to start a conversation with pleasantries with one’s cousins.

“Scorpius knows. No – I certainly didn’t tell him,” Rose rushed on as she saw the shocked expression on their faces. “He guessed. He’s so bloody clever I knew he of all people would guess.”

“It’ll only get worse – they’re in love. They just realized it themselves and they see each other all the time. They practically live together now. Once they buy that cottage in Hogsmeade, it’ll get worse.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Hugo added to the conversation whose topic was obvious to all. “I know they told us last week, but I still can’t believe it.”

“I know they were all best friends, but I didn’t know Dad would love someone other than Mom so quickly,” Lily stammered, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Rose gave her a deep hug.

“Your Dad loved Aunt Ginny. We know that. You know that. He did say that. But it’s different. My Mom’s not replacing your Mom and your Dad’s not replacing our Dad. It’s different, and they’re in love now.”

Rose remembered back to the family meeting last week, how they all met in Uncle Harry’s sitting room in his apartment in the teacher’s wing of the castle. His apartment was next to her mum’s and she always knew if her mum was not in her rooms nor the library or her classroom, she would be at Uncle Harry’s.

***

Last week:

Rose was surprised to see James and Albus were there too. They were Aurors in training in London. She remembered thinking that it must be a big meeting for them to come up to Hogwarts as well.

She remembered how nervous Uncle Harry and Mum seemed when they all arrived. Nervous, but … giddy as well. Uncle Harry had been looking poorly since Aunt Ginny died. The bags under his eyes were deepening and the first couple of gray hairs were starting to appear in his dark, tousled hair. But at that moment, he looked as if he had lost 10 years of age and his demeanor was that of a lovestruck sixth year. No one would think the man before them was a DADA professor, the Boy-Who-Saved-Them-From-Darkness.

Her mum wasn’t giddy, by contrast, but happy. Really genuinely happy in a way Rose hadn’t seen in years. Before the divorce, there were the numerous rows with Dad; after the divorce, the tensions of juggling visitations and work and family. Since she started at Hogwarts and had her children close by, and the schedule with her Dad was now stable, her Mum had started to relax more and smile. But now, she was almost glowing with happiness.

Rose had glanced at her cousins and her brother to see if they were as clueless as she had pretended to be. One look at the two best friends and she knew the topic of the meeting.

James met her eyes. He could guess as well. Albus looked as clueless as Hugo, while Lily looked a bit scared, not willing to believe her eyes.

Uncle Harry started the meeting by thanking them for being there at short notice, but they wanted to tell them all as soon as possible before anything might leak out.

He talked about how much he loved Aunt Ginny and how the past couple years were so difficult; and how he came to rely on her mum so much, that they were always best friends and her mum was always there for him, since they were 11 years old.

Then her mum spoke about how hard it was to divorce her Dad and that part of her would always love him, but that they were just not very good at being married to each other, and how Lavender Brown was so much better for him, but they would always be best friends. And then she spoke of how she loved working at Hogwarts, being near her children, her niece and nephews, and her other best friend.

That was when her mum looked at Uncle Harry and Rose felt it deep in her gut: They’re in love. They’ve always been in love.

Rose then remembered her Uncle Harry would floo everyday during the divorce.

She remembered how Uncle Harry would come by unannounced and be the only person who Mum would allow in her study on those bad days when she was especially grumpy and downright mean, and Rose would keep Hugo busy while Uncle Harry talked to her Mum.

Rose also remembered on at least one occasion that she’d floo Uncle Harry when her Mum would come home depressed about a case lost or fight with her father. Rose, without thinking, would floo Uncle Harry. Not Aunt Ginny, not Aunt Fleur, not Grandma Molly or Grandma Jane, but Uncle Harry when her mother needed a shoulder to cry on.

And Rose remembered one of her first memories.

Flashback-- Rose as a toddler:

She was a toddler and her mother’s stomach was growing big with her future baby brother. She was playing with James and Albus, and she wanted to show her mum a butterfly she had captured. She had found her mum standing too close to her Uncle Harry. She found her mum with tears in her eyes, her arms wrapped around Uncle Harry’s back and Uncle Harry pulling her mum close. She found her mum lifting her head while Uncle Harry’s mouth fell upon her mother’s lips as they kissed with abandon. She found her mom pulling her lips away from Uncle Harry’s, shifting her head so that her curls flew to each side of her face, wiping her mouth and her eyes, her mouth fixing the word “no! no!” and turning to leave. She found her Uncle Harry grasping her mother’s shoulder, his eyes pleading while her mum tugged out of his grasp, eyes wet with tears and cheeks flushed from excitement. She saw her mum run away from her Uncle, who stood there with shoulders slumped, eyes downcast. Rose, at her young age, had no idea what had happened; nonetheless, the result was that she felt overwhelming sadness. The butterfly forgotten, Rose just wanted some time by herself to sit and contemplate and have her own arms tightening around herself and hoped she would never see such a thing again.

Years later, Uncle Harry and her mum were standing together, not with the anguished looks of Rose’s early memory, but with muted joy. While Rose was daydreaming that long- lost, never-repeated, never-told memory, the two adults had explained to their children that they were in love. They were deeply in love and wanted them to know first. They had already told her Dad, who was taking it quite well and was unsurprised, they said. (Living with Lavender doubtless helped him deal with his two best friends shagging.) They wanted to tell the children next. They wanted the children to know nothing would change. They still loved them, still loved their former spouses, still taught at Hogwarts and kept their homes. But they planned to purchase a cottage in Hogsmeade by the Library that would be a weekend retreat for them. No, they were not planning to have more children (to answer Albus’ query) but they wouldn’t promise anything since Hermione was still young (the children groaned at that). Yes, they planned to tell Headmistress McGonagall but planned to keep it all low-key. They did not want the other students or teachers to learn since they were coworkers as well as friends and relations. And they certainly did not want it in the Daily Prophet.

“But won’t getting a house together be obvious?” asked James, the implications beginning to sink in. “And once you’re married –“

“We’re not planning to get married,” Hermione started to answer, but Harry pressed her hand so tightly that she stopped herself mid-sentence and looked at him with widening eyes. “At least, we haven’t discussed it. But this is long term –“ she added quickly to assuage any uncomfortable feelings about this being a short term fling. “--We really do love each other. We’ve always loved each other. Just in a different way now.”

“Did you ever cheat on Dad?” Hugo asked in a torturous voice. Everyone glared at him in shock that he actually said out loud what they dared not think.

“No!” They both answered at once. “Never.” Hermione added, in case clarification was needed.

“I always kept my vows,” Harry said, looking directly at his children.

“Then you weren’t tempted –“ Hugo tried to continue, but Harry stopped him.

“Don’t you ever think I would cheat on your mother,” Harry said as Hermione spoke,

“I never cheated on Ron. And that’s all I’ll say on that topic.”

Rose thought of the events she had witnessed in the garden as a toddler. Is that considered cheating?

***

Now, in the present day, she and Lily and Hugo were dealing with the aftermath of the meeting. Harry and Hermione had kept public displays of affection to a minimum, but that was not enough for some Slytherins (and not just Malfoy) to start to guess. Headmistress McGonagall seemed to keep an eye on them as well. And gossips like Constance and Sapna were already imagining what was not there – or was it? Was there always something there?

“Isn’t it obvious?” Scorpius had said. Was it so obvious?

“Is it obvious?” Rose asked out loud. “Is it obvious that they are in love?”

“Constance and Sapna think so,” Lily responded. “They thought that last year too.”

“They’re just nosy gossips,” Hugo replied in a gruff tone.

“You haven’t heard anything from your side?” Rose asked Hugo.

“Nope. We prefer to discuss more interesting topics like chocolate frogs.”

Rose and Lily both rolled their eyes. Typical Hugo response.

“So, it’s obvious for those looking for it. It’ll just get worse when word gets out then.”

“If they’re really going to do this, they need to get married. I can’t have them living together without being married. That would be obvious.”

Lily pondered Rose’s words. Marriage would be a huge step. Marriage would sanctify the meeting last week, would legitimize the gossiping of Constance and Sapna, and likely others. And the Daily Prophet! What a field day the press would have!

But there was more. Underneath all this discussion of Scorpius and Constance and the Daily Prophet, much more had not yet been said by any of the three Potter and Weasley children.

“But how do we actually feel about this? How do we feel about my Dad and your Mum being in love? About them declaring their love to us and us discussing their possible marriage?” Lily asked in a strong, clear tone so unlike her usual quiet, soft tones. The Sorting Hat had chosen well for the young Miss Potter.

Rose had not verbalized her feelings to her cousins. Of course she had told Hugo. They talked right after the meeting. She tried to decipher the reaction of James and Albus, but she had not actually spoken of it.

She glanced at her brother to see if he had wanted to respond first. She was well aware of her propensity to speak first, whether it be at a family gathering or the classroom, so she stayed silent.

Hugo furrowed his brow and said, “They said it won’t change much. Dad is still my Dad. He already moved on. Mum can too. And I always loved Uncle Harry. He’ll always be Uncle Harry to us, not ‘step dad’. We still have our Dad. We know he won’t be replaced.”

“Are you afraid of your Mum being replaced?” Rose asked Lily quietly.

Lily dropped her head to avoid Rose’s direct stare. “I’m afraid that Dad never loved Mum as much as he loves Aunt Hermoine.”

Both Rose and Hugo felt as if a Bludger had knocked them in the guts. Did Mum always love Uncle Harry? Even when she married Dad? Was their marriage a mistake? Were they mistakes?

What was it that the giddy couple had said at the meeting last week? They loved their former spouses, but in different ways? Did that mean they had always loved each other more? ‘Different’ could mean a host of things. ‘Different’ could mean more.

“I refuse to be a mistake,” Hugo spoke with a fierceness that made both Lily and Rose widen their eyes. He looked at both of them powerfully, noting their reactions to his words, but it made him all the fiercer. “And I’m sure you do, too,” he said to them both. Lily nodded.

Still, Rose began to remember. She remembered how even when her parents were still married how Uncle Harry would bring a light into her Mum’s eye just by his presence, a light that did not occur with her Dad. How they both seemed to gravitate towards each other even when Dad and Aunt Ginny were present. How they often seemed of the same mindset and would take sides against Dad and Aunt Ginny. Rose had assumed it was because her Dad and Aunt Ginny were siblings, they would naturally side together and that just left Uncle Harry and Mum on the same side. Or was it?

Uncle Harry’s continued and unwavering support of Mum’s work for the rights of magical creatures had nothing to do with Weasley sibling dynamics.

Stop it! Rose scolded herself.

“What’s past is past. We can’t go back and change it. How do we feel now?” Rose articulated her thoughts. “Lily? Hugo?”

Lily began, “Dad hasn’t been this happy since Mum died. Since before Mum died, to be honest. It feels funny and it feels wrong somehow, but Mum’s gone, Aunt Hermione has always been there and I’ve always loved your Mum. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m okay with it.”

Rose turned to her brother, “Hugo?”

Hugo scraped his foot along the ground, leaving a short trail in the dirt. “I love them both. If Mum’s happy, she’ll be less short-tempered with us. I love them both, too. I love Aunt Ginny and Dad, too. But I won’t stop what already happened. No reason to. I’m in it, too,” Hugo rambled his assent in his barely articulate way.

Lily looked at Rose. “What do you say?”

Rose swallowed hard. “Like you said, Lily, Hugo, I’m wondering if we’re all mistakes, if they always should have been together. But what’s been done is done. Right now they’re happy and that makes me happy. But what about Albus and James? Have you heard from them?”

“They’re fine. Albus accepted it immediately. James was a bit upset, he was Mum’s favorite, but he is fine, too. But we haven’t discussed them actually getting married …”

Rose took the initiative. “I propose that we send them an owl and have a meeting, the five of us, to discuss whether our parents should marry. All in favor?”

Two “aye’s” responded.

“Right then. Let’s meet at the Three Broomsticks next Hogsmeade weekend. I think they should have a small ceremony right away. Why stop what is obviously unstoppable now?” Rose concluded.

And so they did. The five cousins met the next Hogsmeade weekend, put forth their proposal that their parents wed, and went through all the possible arguments and counter arguments should the giddy couple bring them up (all the children were quite certain that they would be approaching the fiercest prosecutor in Wizengamot, hence the need for thorough preparation).

The parents were surprised that all five of their children had decided thus, and that they were so well prepared to counter each and every argument put forth. For truth, the happy couple did not see the need to marry, in part to not upset the children. But if the children themselves proposed it –

Headmistress McGonagall married them that very night in her office, with all five children in attendance. Ron and Lavender apparated to attend, and Ron gave away the bride, who wore her dress robes with sensible heels.

***

“I told you so,” Scorpius told his best friend after Headmistress McGonagall announced it to the student body the next day in the Great Hall.

“I told you so,” Constance Bruce and Sapna Patel told Lily.

“What the bloody hell?” Hugo’s mates said as they heard the news. “Something you forgot to tell us, mate?”

The newly married couple settled in a lovely little cottage near the Hogsmeade Library shortly thereafter. They also moved into Harry’s apartment in the castle (his being slightly larger than hers) and acted like an old married couple from the start. After spending 3/4ths of their lives together, how could they not? That is, until those times when they acted like giddy newlyweds who could not stay apart, whose eyes marveled at the happiness they had finally found in each other. For they would always have each other.

The best friends held their hands tight.

Best friends having lunch who spoke of dreams and possibilities. Talked about Teddy and Neville and Luna, and James, Albus, Lily, Rose, Hugo, and yes, Scorpius. Talked about everything including what’s really important, what they really wanted to say. Living lives that lead to their own happiness.

Chat about what is, not what might have been. Chat about reality and dreams. Chat about today, yesterday and tomorrow. Chat about their love and marriage. Accept their lives. Accept the ups and downs. Accept the expectations. Accept the joy and happiness. Appreciate it, make the most of it -- their second chance at love.

Spend that time before waking up, between awake and sleep, holding Hermione’s swelling belly and dreaming. Dreaming of a baby girl with bushy hair and green eyes, and thinking of flower names for girls. Daisy.

The End.

A/N: I forgot which fanfic it was, but I did read one where their baby was named Daisy Potter.

Please review!

And huge thanks to my beta, Tears of Mercury.