In the months leading up to Iggy's birth, Hermione had become obsessed with the Potter family. She spent all her free time researching them. It was there that she learned about the Peverell brothers and the Deathly Hallows. She still wasn't quite sure that the Hallows were real, but she was pretty sure that the Peverell's were. Based on Harry's infamous Invisibility Cloak and how eerily it resembled the cloak in the story, Hermione surmised that the Potters were descended directly from Ignotus Peverell. Hermione had spent all of her waking time thinking about James. She still did, even now that Iggy was almost 3 years old. Hermione was doing very well at the Norse Ministry of Magic. In fact, she was gearing up to be its next Minister for Magic, the youngest ever, when the current Minister retired. Still, she was lonely. Iggy was a fantastic kid, inquisitive like his mother and naturally athletic like his father. He had unruly jet black hair and brilliant blue eyes, always quick to notice new details. Of course, that meant he was a bit of a handful. He was always getting into things he shouldn't, and Hermione spent at least half of her day chasing him down and trying to keep him out of trouble.
The Greenland Ministry of Magic was quite forward thinking, and Iggy got to spend his days at work with his mother. There were playrooms on each floor of the building where kids could go and play. Each office of a parent who had a young child was equipped with such amenities as a change table, play pen, and a little kitchen area where they could prepare meals and eat together. All in all, not a bad place to work. Children went away to school at the age of 9 in Greenland, and the school was located in the south of Greenland, close to the Ministry. It was, of course, much smaller than Hogwarts, but Greenland was actually home to quite a number of wizarding families, since no one else wanted to live there. Because it was so isolated, it was also home to a lot of wizarding research. Wizards who wanted time and space to work on intriguing, far-fetched ideas or improvements upon present spells and charms or who were full to bursting with ideas to improve wizarding life all lived there. Hermione enjoyed her life, but still felt like there was something missing. And that something looked remarkably like her young son.
On the night before his third birthday, Hermione found herself reminiscing about that memorable night she had spent with his father. Of course, Iggy didn't know who his father was, and he didn't much care. Hermione felt like her son was lacking in male guidance. After she put Iggy to bed, she sank onto her couch and thought about the kiss she had shared with James that had made Lily so jealous, and the wonderful night they had spent in the Room of Requirement. She realised that Lily and James must have gotten back together at some point, and that Lily had hopefully become less insipid as the years went on. Harry still existed, over on the other side of the world. Hermione at once broke into hot, wet tears. She didn't have anyone anymore. She'd had James for only one night, and because of it, she'd lost her best friends. She hadn't talked to Ron, or Harry, or Ginny, or anyone in over 3 years. That part of her life was over now, over and gone. So was the part with James. What did she even have anymore? Hermione hugged the couch pillow to her chest and sobbed into it.