Molly was the name they gave their child, and every time hermione heard it, it was as if she studying a portrait of her late husband . Which was understandable since not even two years had gone since he had passed. But to her those years felt like a void of cold air inside her. And though she had loved Ron, she, in her strange little ways, always found that something was terribly wrong. A feeling of anxiety, a part of her knowing something was wrong.

Yet she could never put her finger on it which kept her from telling anybody, except herself. Fortunately hermione pushed this feeling away most of the time in order to enjoy and appreciate her family. "Ron" she ran the name through her head over and over, her eyes filled with tears and her lips barely cracking a grin. She could hear his voice, his laughter, the way he said her name. And she played it over in her head like a sweet lullaby. She had made a promise to herself the day that Ron died, that she would not be like other mothers who refuse to allow their children about their father. She would tell them everything their hearts desired to know. The name of their other child was Harry. Named after their best friend, they felt, killing the dark lord, he deserved to be honored."Mum!" Hermione heard a high pitched scream, that knocked her out of her day dreaming. Before she could interpret what she heard another scream pierced her ears and she began to race down the steps to her children. "Harry!" Hermione ran faster and faster, "Molly!" When hermione finally reached them, she saw that they both looked perfectly fine with wide grins spread across their faces. "What in-" she started breathlessly,

"Harry?" She turned to her oldest child waiting for an explanation. She saw the wide grin on her daughter's face shrink and it was not until this moment when she noticed how much she resembled her father. "Mother", Molly started- "No I do not want to hear any excuses from either of you," hermione interrupted. "Mum, it seems as though we have a guest," Molly continued. Hermione turned around not even glancing at the door, she saw her former classman Draco malfoy. "Bloody hell" hermione mumbled. Just as she was about to order her children to not even approach the door they both sprinted for it and before she could catch them she found her children introducing themselves. "Molly weasely at your service," she heard her daughter say. "Harry weasely," the boy put out his hand and just after

Draco grabbed it as he continued, "Man, of the house for almost 2 years now. And I'm only 10, now that's something alright." "It sure is," Draco replied grinning. "Molly, dear I think it best that you and your brother run along, before you get in trouble," and just as they were almost at their rooms hermione shouted "And we will discuss what happened earlier!" "Ah, a strict mother," Draco chuckled. "Uh, what do want Malfoy," hermione said rolling her eyes. "I'd bet you heard. You could've called, or sent a card or something especially after-" hermione continued but not after long was interrupted by Draco. "Well I came didn't I? And if u ask me that's better than a phone call or card." "Can we just please, take this outside," hermione said walking out of her house and closing the door quietly. The two sat on the bench outside the front door of hermione's home in silence. Until hermione blurted "I need to-" "No-," Draco interrupted "Please, let me speak." "Yeah well I'd ask for alittle of that myself if you'd please," hermione continued, "why are you really here?" Draco took hold of hermione's hands. The memory of them together struck hermione.