A/N: This is just a light-hearted cliché fic that I felt like posting today. It's one of the few that I feel like publishing, yet.
The emotions are admittedly all over the place, but I wrote this in three sittings, and so that's what happens. :)
I'd appreciate a bit of commentary about my writing style, if you feel compelled to review. (I hope you do.) And I realize that there are some background story holes, but I really don't intend to cover everything. Just use your imagination and I'm sure you'll create a suitable back-story.
I'm not entirely sure if disclaimers are required, but it seems to be a fad. JK Rowling's beautiful world is, sadly, not mine.
A lot changes in ten years.
Hermione was just realizing that fact, as she wove her way through the crowd of semi-familiar faces. There were about sixty witches and wizards reuniting here, at the Three Broomsticks on a Saturday evening. Despite the smiles and the laughter, a gentle solemnity hung over the room. The classmates were reminded of their fellow students who had lost their lives in the Battle of Hogwarts and even in the unstable time after that.
Of course, Hermione had only had a glimpse of the instability that lingered after Voldemort's fall. The moment that her most imperative obligations to the British Wizarding World had been fulfilled, she had promptly repacked her bags and boarded the first flight to Melbourne, Australia. For two weeks, she spent time with her confused parents, who tried to reconcile with the fact that their daughter had forced them to forget who they were. After two tense weeks of apologies and tears, her parents decided to stay there for a while longer. Hermione had left the two in Melbourne and boarded another plane back to Europe.
Her flight had stopped at the Madrid-Bajaras airport for a few hours, and Hermione had decided to be daring and apparate out of the airport to see the sights. And once she had done that, Hermione found it hard to convince herself to go back. She had missed her flight by then, and she chose instead to check into a hotel. Over the next week, she toured the Muggle portions of Spain, reveling in the freedom and buoyancy she felt. The next week, she located the Spanish Ministry of Magic and found a guide to take her on a tour of Wizarding Spain. She fell in love with the richly cultured country in those two weeks.
After securing a spot in a Ministry regulated Advanced Spells and Curses program, Hermione bid a temporary farewell to Madrid and flew back to London. She met with Harry and Ron in the newly remodeled Leaky Cauldron, and briefly explained her decision to them. Her best friends had supported her decision; they supposed that she would come back after a few months. After bidding farewell to the remaining Weasleys, her school teachers, and the single Muggle friend she still had, Hermione Portkeyed back to a newly purchased flat in the centre of Wizarding Madrid.
And since then, Hermione had seen her old friends a handful of times. Once, when she was needed to explain how exactly they had broken into Gringotts (the goblins were updating the security measures on the ancient bank). Once, when she had resituated her parents in their London home. Once, when Harry Potter wed Ginny Weasley and she was needed for publicity's sake.
But otherwise, Hermione had never invited her friends to her Madrid home. And as the years went by – there had been ten years, altogether – Hermione had all but abandoned her old life. She and Harry-and-Ron drifted apart; their most prominent correspondence became cards that read either Happy Birthday or Happy Christmas.
So now, after those said ten years, Hermione felt quite nervous about returning to London for Hogwart's Graduates of 1998 ten-year-reunion, as arranged by Lavender Boot née Brown. And the seventh-month-old boy in her arms did little to quell her anxiety.
Many emotions coursed through Hermione's blood that evening, but anxiety and anger were the most prominent. Her anxiety was directed toward the event in general; her anger was toward someone else…
"Hermione!" She turned to see Harry and Ginny Potter standing in a small circle with Ron, Lavender, and a bored-looking Terry Boot. Hermione walked towards her old classmates, and Ginny gave a small gasp as she noticed the small boy attached to her.
Ginny threw her arms around Hermione, careful not to crush the baby, and hugged the friend she hadn't spoken to properly in ten years.
"He's gorgeous!" Ginny squealed, as Harry and Hermione kissed each other on the cheek and Hermione said hello to the Boots.
"Harry, Ginny, Ron… er, Lavender, Terry: this is Scor, my son," she announced somewhat stiffly. She softly touched her sleeping son's cheek, hoping it would calm her down.
"He's so cute, Hermione!" gushed Lavender. "How old is he?"
"Scor's seven months."
"Oh, Hermione! I would have brought James if I had known about Scor… Jamie just turned two last month." Hermione smiled awkwardly at Ginny's words. "Is Scor's father here?"
Hermione expression hardened. "I suppose he's somewhere around here. He's probably getting drunk and flirting with all the women." Her words shocked her company into silence.
"Is everything okay, Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively. He surreptitiously glanced down to her ring finger: it was empty.
"Oh it's nothing. Don't mind me," she brushed it off.
Lavender deftly switched the topic. "How do you like the Three Broomsticks, then? I asked Rosmerta months ago to hold our little reunion here, and she was so excited! I asked her to put up the red curtains…"
The conversation progressed into lighter things, and Hermione was glad for the distraction. She smiled where appropriate and "mhmmed" where it was needed.
Twenty minutes later, her son woke up and started whimpering. Ginny and Lavender awed and fussed about him, while Hermione tried to rock him back to sleep. The motions made him even more restless, and he let out a short wail that embarrassed her. She shushed him and tried to get him to quiet down.
And as if her evening wasn't terrible enough, Ginny's next words nearly sent Hermione into a tizzy. "Hey! Is that Malfoy coming towards us?"
Sure enough, Draco Malfoy sauntered over to their cozy little group, slowly destroying Hermione's last ounce of sanity.
"What a reunion, huh?" he said, not unkindly. "It's pretty good, Brown – oh, excuse me, Boot."
Lavender giggled. "Why thank you, Malfoy. You know, I was surprised that you even came. I haven't heard of you in years; I'm just lucky those owls know where they're going."
"I've been in Spain for a while," he offered. Harry's brow furrowed at this piece of information.
"Spain? You've ever run into Hermione then?"
Draco finally turned to said witch and studied her. "Yeah I've seen her around. Cute baby, by the way." Hermione rolled her eyes and continued struggling to rock her little boy. "Is he okay?" he asked, nodding towards the baby.
Harry was surprised. Malfoy almost sounded sincere when he asked about Scor.
"He's tired, Malfoy. The journey here was too long for him, and he barely slept with all the arguing." Hermione spoke stiffly, almost reluctantly, to the man. Her friends figured that even ten years had not softened her feelings towards the former Death Eater.
"Mind if I try then? I have some experience with this sort of thing, you know." Draco held out his arms, offering to take the baby boy.
"Fine," Hermione said grudgingly. Harry, Ginny, and Ron stared in shock as Hermione handed a fussy Scor to Draco Malfoy. She seemed to still hate the man, but she willingly gave him her baby? Hermione was too distracted to take in their scandalized expressions. She might have laughed otherwise. Draco, on the other hand, did notice, and he smirked widely.
"His name's Scor," offered Lavender, blissfully unaware of the animosity between the other members of their little circle. Terry stalked off from her side, muttering something about drinking copious amounts of Firewhiskey.
"Scor, huh?" Draco's smirk widened even more. "That sounds like a nickname," he said, almost condescendingly towards Hermione.
"It's better than what his father wanted to name him. 'Scorpius'. What a terrible name."
"Scorpius, huh? It's a good name. Something a Black, or even a Malfoy, would name his child," Draco said approvingly.
"Exactly, Malfoy." Hermione refused to say any more on the matter. But Lavender wasn't done trying to talk to Malfoy. His small praise of her reunion party seemed to go a long way in her book.
"Have you met Hermione's husband yet, Malfoy? She said he was somewhere around here."
Ron cringed. He too had noticed the lack of a wedding ring on Hermione's finger, and he jumped to his old friend's rescue.
"Um, Lavender, she said he was flirting with other women. Perhaps they aren't together?"
Ginny groaned. Her brother's valiant efforts did little to lessen the awkwardness of Hermione's martial situation.
"You aren't married?" Draco's had become dark, and he glared at Hermione.
"She isn't wearing a ring, Malfoy," piped up Lavender. Draco's gaze caught Hermione's hand before she could hide it. He set his jaw and glared ever more angrily at her.
"So that's what happens then? You get into an argument with your husband and the ring comes off?" He felt like yelling, but he kept his voice controlled and steady. If anything, it seemed to unsettle Hermione even more.
Hermione reached under the shoulder of her blouse and pulled out a silver chain. A sophisticated silver ring hung on the end, its diamonds and emeralds gleaming in the light. "It's right here," she said softly. "Next to my heart."
Draco expression softened, although he didn't take his eyes off of her. Their spectators watched with intrigue as the two interacted. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Scor had fallen back asleep. He curled up in Draco's arms, and his soft breathing drew Ginny's attention. She 'awwwed' once more. Harry and Ron exchanged an exasperated look.
"Hermione," Lavender tried once more. "Where's your husband?"
"Around." And that was her final answer. She looked away and stared at the other classmates mingling around them.
"You know, I'm sorry for everything Hermione." Draco addressed her directly for the first time, and he sounded sincere. It just wasn't making sense in Harry and Ron's minds.
"Whatever, Malfoy," she said evenly. Draco growled.
"You're so moody Hermione! I swear you're more hormonal now than when you were pregnant!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "You're a smart man Draco Malfoy. You figure it out."
A split second later, Draco's fair complexion paled even more. He resembled a walking corpse now.
"I was going to announce it tonight, actually," she continued. "But thanks for ruining the surprise. You're good at that, aren't you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're always ruining everything! You screwed up the plane tickets here! You left Scor's bedtime books at home! You ruined the dress I was going to wear tonight!" People stopped talking as Hermione ranted. The entire room was staring at her and Draco, their ears trained to listen to what new argument was exploding between Malfoy and Granger.
"I can think of one big thing I didn't screw up in doing Hermione, and the result of it is right here," he said, struggling to calm her down.
"What? You regret marrying me too, but Scor was worth it? We mean nothing, but you're happy you got an heir!" she shrieked.
"I don't ever regret getting married, Mya! Not now and not ever! Do you regret it?"
"No, Draco! I got pregnant again didn't I? Trust me, giving birth wasn't that fun the first time, and I wouldn't do it again if I didn't love you!"
Draco stepped forward and closed the gap between him and Hermione. He used one arm to pull his wife into a searing kiss, careful not to crush their son, who was still cradled in the crook of his other arm. He poured his love into his kiss, and he mentally relaxed when he felt Hermione kiss back with the same fervor. When they pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were glassy.
"I said I'm sorry," he whispered to her. "And you know I love you."
"It's getting late, Draco," she murmured. "We should get back to the Manor before your parents turn in."
"Too late for some celebrations?" he asked slyly, his eyes darkening. Hermione smirked back.
"We'll celebrate only if you don't jump me before we leave." She winked at him and started rubbing circles on his chest.
Harry gagged inwardly. Was this really the same Hermione Granger who had left ten years ago? The same woman who could barely talk easily with him and Ron? Was Hermione really flirting with Draco Malfoy? Forget that. Had Hermione Granger really become Hermione Malfoy?
Apparently so, because Malfoy's hand dipped down to squeeze his wife's arse. She squealed a bit, before dragging her husband towards the closest fireplace.
"We'll meet up sometime tomorrow, guys!" she called over her shoulder without looking back. Harry and Ron weakly called out their consents.
With a flash of Floo Powder, the three Malfoys disappeared, leaving the shell-shocked 'Hogwarts Graduates of 1998' behind.
A lot did change in ten years, thought Ginny wryly, as she pulled her own husband into a kiss, trying to convince him to cut the party short.
Needless to say, within the next half hour the remaining attendees departed the reunion. A good half of them had whimsically checked into rooms at the Three Broomsticks, unwilling to make the journey back to their own homes when they had more urgent things (or significant others) to do.
Madame Rosmerta sighed dreamily as, with a flick of her wand, she magicked the last few galleons of the night's sales to her Gringotts vault.
A lot had changed in ten years. But she still was the richest woman in Hogsmeade.