'HERMIONE!! SOMEBODY'S STOLEN ALL MY SOCKS!!'

She rolled her eyes.

'SECOND DRAW DOWN, LEFT HAND SIDE'

Honestly, would he never learn? Ron came in to the kitchen a few moments later.

'Why did you move my socks?'

'Ron, they've been in that draw for the last 20 years.'

They sat down at the table and started pouring out tea, buttering toast and spreading jam. Ron looked over to Hermione, and noticed her clothes; a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

'Aren't you going in to work today?'

'No, I'm staying at home to get that report finished off in a bit of peace and quite.'

'Oh, you didn't mention it.' He reached for the newspaper.

'Yes I did. I told you yesterday. And the day before.'

'Oh. Anyway, I'd better get going.' He leant over and kissed her on the cheek. 'See you later.'

Hermione leant back in the chair, smiling and shaking her head. Honestly! The children were both off at school now, but she'd always have a baby at home whilst Ron was around.

With the breakfast things packed away, she could start work. That was the real beauty of being an empty nester, even though they weren't properly gone yet, just at Hogwarts. When she wanted to work she could stay at home. The Ministry would only contact her in an emergency, which didn't really happen in Magical Law. Ron got owls at ridiculous times of the night, or even somebody apparating on the doorstep, but drafting Laws took years. She was very unlikely to be disturbed, because wizards still hadn't got the hang of phones; most didn't realise she had one, and some could still not work out how to use them.

She worked on steadily for a couple of hours, occasionally chewing the end of her quill whilst searching for the right word, or checking a figure she was quoting. Report writing could be dull work, but she knew the proper marshalling of facts was vital. Heading off potential objections at this stage made getting the laws enacted so much easier later on.

Half way through the morning she was disturbed by a tapping at the window. Looking up she saw a tawny owl waiting patiently to be let in. Hermione opened the window and removed the letter tied to its leg, crossing back to the table to read it. The writing wasn't familiar to her.

'Dear Hermione,

Perhaps you have see we are in England now for the next match. I would like very much to invite you to lunch one day. It is many years now since we speak and I would like very much to catch up with my friend. Send back by owl and we arrange, yes?

Viktor'

Viktor? Viktor Krum! What did he mean 'we are in England now for our next match'? Picking up the Daily Prophet, she turned to the sports section, something she rarely did. There was the explanation. Bulgaria were playing a Quidditch series against the British teams, and the match against England was coming up on Saturday. Viktor had been interviewed, as he was now the manager.

Well well! Hermione leaned back in her chair, looking at his picture and drifting off in to memories. Viktor had been her date for that Yule Ball all those years ago. It had been her first 'grown up' party, she still remembered the dress robes she'd worn and how long it had taken to do her hair. She'd been so nervous, what with Viktor being a Champion, and everybody filing past them in to the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Then they had danced, and held hands, and kissed. She closed her eyes, remembering how scary that was.

It was her first kiss, and as he moved towards her she frantically tried to remember everything Lavender and Parvati had said on the subject. Those two discussed kissing so often, and in such depth, she would have thought they were taking an OWL in it. Was she meant to close her eyes, or keep them open? What about tongues? Euch! No way. Wasn't she supposed to be stoking his neck? Oh God, was it with all her hand, or just the fingers? She couldn't remember.

Honestly! It had all been so innocent at the time, but your first kiss is your first kiss, so still special. Then she'd had that row with Ron afterwards. Had he been jealous? No, surely not. But then again ….. The last time she'd seen Viktor was at Bill and Fleur's wedding. That seemed like a lifetime ago, the 'last golden day of peace' as Harry had called it, before they went hunting horocruxes.

She looked back down at his picture. He hadn't changed that much. Well, maybe a little fatter in the face, but still with that dark hair and stern expression. She knew it was partly an act, and underneath it all he had actually been quite sensitive, almost shy.

She picked up a piece of parchment.

'Dear Viktor,

How wonderful to hear from you again. I would love to have lunch with you one day. I can make any day this week, let me know where to meet you. I am sure we have lots of news to talk about; it has been too long since we last met. Do you remember that day?

Fondest Regards,

Hermione'

Lunch was arranged for a couple of day's time, and Hermione woke every morning with butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't work out why.

On the day of her lunch date – no, appointment – she could hardly eat breakfast. Ron looked across.

'Working at home again? Alright for some.'

'It's not just a doss, you know. It's proper work. I'll be flat out all day' (Couldn't I have phrased that better?)

'Hmmph. I bet. I'll see you later – skiver!'

Hermione sat there for a moment when he'd gone. Why hadn't she told him what her real plans were? After all, they were an old married couple now. It's not as if Viktor was…he was just an old friend, they were meeting for lunch. That's all. But Ron had always had a bit of a blind spot when it came to Viktor. It was probably easier to keep quiet. "Least said, soonest mended", that was a good saying.

She crossed to the mirror, peering intently in to it. Her face was just a little…broader than it used to be, and perhaps her cheeks not quite so firm. Then there were the wrinkles around her eyes. How horrified she'd been when she first saw them.

'They're laughter lines' she'd said to Ron. 'My dear, NOTHING is that funny' was his reply. So she'd poked his belly and said 'Well, that's fairly hilarious'. Then he'd tickled her and they ended up rolling around on the carpet until she leapt on top of him and started kissing. Rose had giggled and blushed, and Hugo read his book very intently. Parents didn't do that sort of thing. After all, parents didn't even know about….you-know-what, did they?

She smiled, and the 'laughter lines' showed up even more. She looked down at her body a little sadly. 'Oh dear, it's all heading south for the winter'. She very much doubted she could fit into those first dress robes any more. Hermione walked upstairs, wondering what she should wear today. A dress, certainly, she couldn't go in a pair of old jeans. With tights or stockings? Get a grip, girl – tights. And simple underwear. Maybe big knickers, just to keep it under control a bit. After all, who's going to see them? Make-up, of course. Well, that's allowed. I'm going to meet somebody for lunch; I'm not just popping down to the shops. Should I do something with my hair? Well, just tidy it up a little, I suppose.

Shortly before half past twelve she was ready to leave the house. She took a final look in the mirror.

'Not bad for an old married lady, I suppose'.