Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This work contains quotes from movies and television shows, stories and plays, novels and films.

CHAPTER ONE

Unlikely Friends

"Hurry, dear! Go get your brother. We still need to buy you some robes and a wand," said a witch, guiding her daughter towards the bookshop. She looked down and smiled thoughtfully, couldn't believe that her daughter was finally going to Hogwarts. "Your father and I will meet you and your brother outside Ollivanders afterwards, okay? Dad needs to check something first at Gringotts. Off you go."

Hermione Granger-Weasley watched her daughter went inside the bookshop. She felt nostalgic for a moment, yearning to go back and relive some memories. It all seemed like yesterday when she got her letter from Hogwarts, bought her first wand, and became friends with Harry Potter—the boy who lived and Ronald Weasley—the boy she married.

The thought of Ron and their kids made her go back to reality, telling herself how lucky she was to have them. Well, she didn't want to brag, really, but she had been happily married for thirteen years, had two loving kids and had a good-paying job at the Ministry while Ron helped George with the joke shop. Everyone would say that she got the life they had ever wanted, there was no doubt about that. But how long would it last? Forever, she thought. It had sounded cliché but she meant it. She would do anything to keep her marriage strong and her family happy, whatever it takes.

Wizards and witches of all ages were scattered inside Flourish and Blotts, reading and buying books they need for the coming year. The shelves were still stacked to the ceiling with different books; varied in sizes with unique covers and writings, some books were new and some were really old.

The bell tinkled above the door when Rose Weasley entered the bookshop, looking around for a boy with bushy brown hair in the crowd. She glanced at the witch, who was reading a story to her daughter beside the stacks of different books on the floor, and smiled, remembering her mother, who taught her how to read. She then turned to her left and saw people lining up impatiently towards the counter, carrying dozens of books.

"Give it back to me!" A little boy shouted in the far corner, tugging the book away from another boy's grasp. He scowled at the boy in expensive black robes and clutched the book on his chest. "Stop it!"

Hearing her brother's voice, Rose gasped and squeezed her way in, knocking off two wizards aside and found her brother, Hugo, and a boy of her age having another tug of war over a Quidditch book. "What's going on here?"

The boy with a pale, pointed face looked at her with an irritated and surprised look while her brother stood frozen, hiding the book behind his back. The other boy stepped back and successfully snatched the book from Rose's brother, who fell clumsily on the floor.

"Aw, come on!" Her brother struggled to stand up and after he recovered, he started to jump but couldn't reach the book over his head. "I found it first!"

The boy raised an eyebrow. "I had it now," he said, mocking Hugo by waving the book in front of his face. "Go on! Cry and hide under your sister's robe."

He sneered at Rose, who glared at him in return. He had white-blond hair, matching his pale complexion and his eyes were grey like storm clouds. He is intimidating and arrogant—very arrogant, she thought. "You don't want our cousins to see you crying, do you?" She whispered to Hugo, tugging him to her side then stared gloomily at the blond boy.

"Bet your cousins – "

"Will you stop bullying my brother?!" she snapped at him.

"Ah, finally! She talked to me!" he exclaimed, beaming.

"What do you–huh?"

"You see, I was wandering outside Madam Malkin's when I saw you and your brother coming outside the cauldrons shop. I followed you for a while but then I lost you in the crowd so I followed your brother here instead, waiting for you to come."

"That was it, then? I presume that stalking and bullying are your expertise."

"Yes—what? No! Of course not! I didn't know why I followed you, okay? And I didn't mean to bully your brother. Here's the book by the way," he passed it to Hugo and muttered an apology. "My father will not be happy if he hears this. He is against bullying and everything…"

Rose snorted and giggled. "For a boy, you talk like an adult. Do you know?"

"So do you," he had a bored, drawling voice. He was reading the back cover of a book he just picked up from a shelf.

"You are bored, aren't you? That is why you followed us." Rose noticed his lack of interest in the book when she saw his face twist in disgust. She tried to smile but frowned instead when she remembered her childish conversation with her cousin, Lily Potter, about Victoire's crush on Teddy and insisted that having a crush was stupid and futile.

"Not really. I'm just…" He set the book he was reading down and smiled at Rose. "How about we go to the ice-cream parlour outside. My treat. Sounds fun, right?"

Ice-cream?

Rose hesitated and started to chew her bottom lip nervously. She glanced at her brother, who was sitting on the floor and reading the book on his lap, nodded enthusiastically when he heard the word, ice-cream. She should say no, knowing that her mother would be disappointed if they went along with this boy. But he was just a child like them, how harmful could he be? "We are supposed to meet our parents now at Ollivanders and I don't really know you…"

"Oh! Right! Where are my manners?" He shook his head and held out his right hand. "I'm Scorpius."

She hesitated for a moment but raised hers as well and shook his hand. "Rosie. Rose for short."

"Thanks for the treat, Scorpius. That's really nice of you." Rose said, strolling off along the winding, cobbled street while slurping their chocolate and vanilla flavored ice-creams happily. They were looking through several shop windows when Hugo excitedly pointed out the 'Quality Quidditch Supplies' shop, making his way through several boys of his age and pressed his nose against the window, fascinated with the latest broomstick model on display with a 'Fastest Broom in the World' sign beside it.

"He really likes Quidditch. Hugo," explained Rose upon seeing Scorpius' astound face. Her brother was making a big fuss around him and it was a bit funny. "He also can't wait to receive his letter in two years, go to Hogwarts and be a keeper just like Dad."

"Well, who doesn't like it? I often watch Father playing Quidditch with his friends and then, he started teaching me how to ride a broom when I was five. I've been playing since then."

Ugh. Boys.

"Lucky for you. I can't even ride a broom properly without falling flat on the ground," she sighed. Rose noticed him chuckling on her side and she started to laugh at herself too.

They stood for a while until Rose sat comfortably on the pavement along the shop, watching Hugo gawking at a boy, who just bought the latest broomstick with new set of Quidditch robes, coming out of the shop. She heard Scorpius mumbling on his own about his new robe and turned to see him looking down, hesitating to sit on the ground. She frowned. "What's wrong?"

He gestured the pavement covered with dirt then to his robe in horror.

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Come on, Scorpius! It's just dirt. It's not going to kill you."

"I—Mother doesn't want me to sit on the street like a beggar—I mean peasant," he said softly as he could. He didn't want to offend Rose.

"Oh." Rose's mouth formed an O, feeling like an idiot for insisting. She was about to stand when Scorpius stopped her half-way and sat awkwardly beside her. His body went stiff as a board and had a worried expression plastered on his face.

"We don't have to sit, really."

"I'm fine," he convinced Rose, who thought that he sounded like he's convincing more of himself than her.

"You look like you're going to be sick!"

"My mom wouldn't know, would she?"

"Unfortunately, I don't know your mother so I can't warn you if she's coming and I don't think she will humiliate you in public. Mums don't do that to their child, do they?" she said matter-of-factly.

"I hope you're right, Rose," he exhaled, not noticing that he held his breath for a little longer than usual. He found his body relaxing after she patted his shoulder lightly and smiled reassuringly while saying, "Don't worry. You are safe for now, Scorpius."

"What is taking them so long? They're supposed to be here by now." Hermione frowned, pacing back and forth outside Ollivanders. She glanced at Ron, who was just leaning on the window shop, looking dazed as usual. She sighed in defeat and started to look around for her daughter and her son.

There were still people in the alley doing their shopping and some were just strolling. She then caught a glimpse of a bushy hair in the crowd, hoping that it was her son with Rose but to her dismay, it was just a second-hand broomstick carried upside down by a boy. My hair didn't look like that when I was young, did it?

"Ronald Weasley!" She exclaimed desperately, hitting Ron's arm with her purse to get his attention.

"Aw! Bloody hell! What is your problem, woman?"

"Are you even paying attention? Our children are missing!" she said furiously to her husband.

"No, they are not. They've been here a lot, playing at the joke shop with their Uncle George every day. They'll come around, Hermione."

She frowned, unfolding her arms over her chest and covered her mouth, completely horrified when a terrible thought occurred in her mind. "What if they were taken away? Voldemort might be dead but there are still death eaters out there! Oh, Ron. "

"Just calm down!" Ron reached for his wife and steadied her. "Listen. Hugo is just around the Quidditch shop for sure and Rosie might be at the magical pet shop, looking for a cat."

"Brilliant! Why didn't I think of that?" Hermione beamed hopefully.

"You're panicking, that's why!"

"Are you yelling at me?"

"I—no. Your pacing made my head dizzy, that's all.

She sighed. "I'll check for Rosie at the menagerie and you go to the Quidditch shop. If you found Rosie too, would you tell her to come at Ollivanders? We really need to buy her a wand before it closes."

"I will. But Harry must be at the Leaky Cauldron by now with the others. I'll go ahead and meet them."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"After finding Hugo, of course! I'll see you later with Rosie, then," he said.

Before Hermione could reply, Ron was already on his back, walking away with Rose's books and cauldron. She was expecting him to kiss her goodbye or hug her or anything, but these days, she didn't know what to expect from him anymore. He was distant and aloof, didn't want to talk, and didn't want to touch her. Now, she could only hope that Ron wasn't fooling around.

Hermione sighed and left, completely unaware to the pair of grey eyes that were staring intently at her inside a nearby shop.

It was odd and rare to see someone radiating with beauty and elegance come inside a dark shop, full of rustling and flickering owls without feeling disgustful of the place. Astoria Malfoy, who was wearing an emerald green suit, walked gracefully around the Owl Emporium, looking for the perfect owl to buy for her son. She graced her lips with a pleasant, but reserved smile when she asked the owner to give her the best eagle owl they have.

"Draco, will you come here for a minute?" she requested.

Hearing his name, Draco Malfoy, who was standing near the door, went further to the shop and grunted when he inhaled the smell of the place. "What is it, Astoria? You know how much I hate this place," he spat, scrunching his nose in disgust.

Astoria rolled her eyes and forced herself to smile tightly before turning to face Malfoy. "Not here, Draco," she said in a low, calm voice. "You won't mind taking that cage on the counter, would you? I think I saw Scorpius across the shop. I'll go and check him."

"I am not your house-elf, Astoria."

"No, you're not but I obviously can't carry that around, Draco. It's heavy."

Heavy, my arse! A child can easily carry that. "PINKY!" he roared, disturbing several owls that were asleep.

Crack.

"Master called for Pinky, sir," a tiny creature appeared in the shop, wearing a tatty but clean rug, its eyes were enormous; its nose was very pointy and its hands were clasped on its back, waiting patiently for its master's order.

"Take this cage to the manor and those too, please," he was pointing to a trunk, cauldron and books he left on the floor. Pinky squeaked in delight and took the cage eagerly then went to the things on the floor to disapparate.

Astoria scorned. "What are you so worked up about?" she walked towards the door and didn't wait for Draco to follow for she had seen her son with an unlikely girl.

"I think it's time for us to go and meet our Mum. She must be worried now," said Rose before she stood up, followed by Scorpius; they both cleaned off the dirt from their robes. Hugo was still sitting and sulking on the ground, muttering about their frugal mother and not wanting to buy him a broom until he was fifteen. "Come now, Hugo."

"I'll see you at Hogwarts, then," said Scorpius and his voice faltered when he saw his mother's disapproval, despite the fact that she was smiling, when she glanced at Rose. "Mother, I – I was – just…"

"Scorpius, what did you do to your new robe? Look at you! You're covered in dirt!" Astoria scolded, eyeing her son from head to toe. She then turned her attention to Rose and her brother, raising an eyebrow. "And who are they?"

"Mother, they are my new friends, Rose and Hugo. I met them at Flourish and Blotts. She will study at Hogwarts too." Scorpius answered politely, smiling when he looked at Rose, who was already grinning at him.

Red hair. Freckles. Bushy brown hair. "Hermione and Ron Weasley's children, I suppose?" she inquired, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

She nodded. "How did you know, Madam?" Rose asked curiously.

Astoria squinted her eyes for a moment then spoke. "Look like them, of course. The similarities are naturally uncanny and bizarre," she paused. "I've heard that your father has been working in a joke shop, hasn't he? What a pathetic choice for a living, if you'd ask me."

"Mother, stop, please."

"Your mother got lucky when she landed a job in the Ministry. At least, someone in your family can afford all the expenses," she continued, ignoring Scorpius' protest.

"Mother, that's enough."

"We don't associate ourselves with these kind of people," Astoria began in a cold, flat tone, looking down at Rose with so much hatred in her eyes. "Blood traitor and Mudblood parents, what a disgrace to the wizarding world. You don't want to be friends with them, Scorpius."

"But Father said—we are all equals!" he raised his voice and tried to reason, knowing that it was pointless. He looked at Rose again, hoping that she would look at him but she didn't. He noticed tears forming in her eyes and she wiped it immediately.

Bollocks. "Don't use that tone on me, Scorpius! Your father's view about them might have changed but I haven't. You still have a lot to learn," she dismissed and grabbed Scorpius' arm, trying to drag him away.

"Let me apologize to them, at least! Can't you see? She's crying!" he said, tearing his arm away from his mother's hold. Astoria pursed her lips, her gaze was following her son as he went back to Rose and gave his handkerchief before running back to her.

Hermione came out from Magical Menagerie with a disappointed look on her face. She was hoping to see her kids or Rose inside the shop playing with rabbits or cats. She even remembered her daughter begging her to buy a new cat, a few months after her grumpy odd but smart, Crookshanks, died of old age.

Where are they?

She made her way back up the crowded street to Ollivanders and saw Astoria Malfoy walking out the wand shop with her son. Hermione didn't quite remember her at Hogwarts at all but she was certain that Astoria married the Malfoy heir, three years after the war. She was never fond of gossips but couldn't help it. It was all over the front page of Daily Prophet for three days, not to mention her marriage with Ron which lasted for an entire bloody week. Rita Skeeter and her cronies, she thought, feasting over their private lives.

"Rosie!" Hermione called when she saw Rose walking down the street and ran to embrace her tightly. "Where have you been? I've been worriedly sick!"

"I'm fine, Mum," she muttered, squirming uncomfortably in her mother's arms. "Dad saw us outside the Quidditch shop."

"Then explain to me why your eyes are so puffy. Were you crying?"

Yes.

"No," she mumbled, avoiding her mother's gaze and settled on fidgeting her robe instead.

"I know that look, Rosie. I invented that. Tell me what's wrong, honey."

"Okay." She sighed. "Hugo and I met a boy in the bookshop. He bought ice-creams for the three of us and we talked for a while."

"Well, that was nice, wasn't it?"

"It was nice," she smiled sadly. She looked at Hermione in tears and spoke in a low, quavering voice. "Not until his mother showed up, called you a Mudblood and Dad a blood traitor. She doesn't want him to become friends with us."

Hermione leaned closer and touched Rose's face, wiping her tears away. "I still remember clearly when a boy called me that word for the first time and I cried because it hurts. But I knew better, he was just jealous and mad because someone like me, a muggle-born, got higher scores than him. His family think that they're better than muggle-borns and half-bloods because they are purebloods, but they weren't."

"What did you do to the boy?"

"Nothing but during third year, I slapped him very hard across the face," she said, her lips quirked from that memory.

Rose giggled, half-crying. "You really did that?"

Hermione nodded. "Wonder why it doesn't affect me anymore?" Rose shrugged and she continued, "Because our blood status doesn't define who we are and what we will be. Never let anyone tell you that you're not good enough because you are good, maybe even better, in your own way." She kissed her daughter's forehead and stood up, noticing that several shops were closing. "It's getting late. Let's buy you a wand. Come on, dear."

Draco's head jerked up when he saw a very familiar witch closing the door behind her, followed by a girl at her side, which he assumed was her daughter. He cursed himself silently when he took a sharp intake of breath. Snap out of it! You're making a fool of yourself. He cleared his throat and forced his face to look indifferent in spite of his uneasiness.

"Granger," he nodded curtly towards her as she stood near him, both waiting for Mr. Ollivander to return. Draco eyed her carefully and expected her to be the same witch he had taunted before at Hogwarts. Her bushy hair, which he compared to a broomstick many times, had been tamed into soft, wavy curls. She even dressed better now that the unflattering jeans and sweater she wore at Hogwarts were all gone and replaced by a silk, cream blouse and a pleated skirt. Hermione Granger had changed through the years, he noted, well, quite a lot.

"Malfoy," she said briefly, breaking his thoughts. "I go by my husband's last name now."

Draco sneered, muttering something, which sounded like 'Weasel' that she thankfully didn't hear.

She gave him a piercing look. "What?"

"What?"

"You said something. I think I saw you muttering! Just now!" she accused.

Fucking Weasel. "You must be mental, Granger," he scoffed.

"Heard from the Minister myself that you changed your ways after the war and been living well," she started, feeling foolish that they hadn't seen each other for a long time and here they were, having a non-sense bickering in front of Rose. They were adults, for Merlin sake! And she actually thought that he somehow changed. "But you're still the same, I see."

"Still the know-it-all, I see," he retorted. "In case you haven't noticed, Granger, I greeted you nicely and you're the one clawing down my throat when you had the chance."

"But I think—I saw you."

He smirked deviously. "You said, you 'think' you saw me and you didn't even hear it, Granger. It could be anything, really." Nope, he wouldn't allow her to win this argument even if she was right.

Hermione nibbled her lower lip. She hated to admit that he was right. She didn't hear him at all and she had no proof that he taunted her or something. She glanced at him and saw his triumphant smile, which made her want to slap him again. It would feel great.

Git.

"Where are Hermione and Rosie?" Ginny Potter asked curiously when she saw Hugo running past them excitedly to play with Lily and Albus. Ron shrugged and took his sit across Harry after ordering for a glass of butterbeer. She knew that there was something wrong, he seemed agitated and there were dark shadows under his eyes, but she didn't want to press her brother.

"Still there with Rosie to buy her a wand and school robes," he answered finally, his eyes were wandering around like he was waiting for someone to attack them. Harry caught his gaze and raised his eyebrows. Ron shook his head. "Just looking around, mate."

"Your anniversary and Hermione's birthday are coming, aren't they?" Ginny started, trying to engage them to a conversation since they would still be waiting a little longer.

"Mmm." Ron nodded, sipping on his beer.

Harry and Ginny waited in vain for a follow-up but he said nothing. The couple exchanged an anxious look. Ginny gave her husband a 'He's your best friend, talk to him' look but Harry shook his head. He knew Ron very well, he wouldn't talk unless he wanted to.

"He's your brother and you're a woman, you're better at this," he whispered.

"You're so not going to get it tonight," she hissed and waited. Yes. That should do it.

Harry flushed and cleared his throat. "Any plans?"

"None."

"We can organize a party for the both of you, just your family and close friends," Harry suggested. He looked at Ginny for assistance but she urged him to continue, telling him that he was on the right track.

"You better not."

"How about a romantic dinner? It has been a while, right? Hugo can stay with—"

"I appreciate your effort, Harry. But… no," Ron said flatly, cutting him off. He's clearly not in the mood to talk about their anniversary. It would cost them for sure and they didn't have enough money for that.

Ginny slammed her glass hardly on the table, quite glad that Tom didn't notice. "That's it! Tell us what's wrong. Now!" she demanded.

"There's nothing to tell, really," he said defensively. No one should know, he thought. Neither of his family, especially Hermione, nor friends should know. They would hex him to oblivion and he was sure of it. He hurriedly finished off his drink and stood up, telling Hugo that they were going home.

"What about Hermione?" called Ginny.

"She can take a cab or perhaps you could give her a lift?" suggested Ron, smiling awkwardly. "Thanks, Gin. See you, Harry!"

"Ron, wait," Harry called but he didn't look back.

There was silence, a long and eerie one. Hermione was counting wand boxes in the shelf when she got distracted by her daughter's continuous loud tapping on the floor and it stopped abruptly when Rose took a sit on an old spindly chair.

Another suffocating silence echoed in the depths of the shop. Hermione suddenly felt the need to speak, the urge to end the uncomfortable feeling and contemplated on breaking it by starting a small talk. But what would they talk about? She began to ponder the answer to that question in her mind. There was nothing to talk about, she finally thought. Malfoy never talked to her casually before, not even once. She wouldn't count their endless spat as a casual talk, not to mention their awkward conversation earlier. Completely nothing.

"Nice weather, isn't it?" she started, mentally slapping her face. What an idiot.

Draco's lips quirked, quite relieved that he wasn't the only one to be tensed. "It amuses me how Muggles tend to talk about the weather whenever they wanted to start a conversation."

She was silent. "If you're so clever, how would you start it, then?" she asked with her usual bravado to mask her embarrassment.

He shrugged. "There was nothing wrong about it, Granger. As I said, it amuses me."

"It's Weasley," she corrected automatically.

Malfoy scoffed and Hermione chose not to speak again to avoid the inevitable. She would rather be silent for hours than argue with Draco sodding Malfoy. She noted that he simply stood there by the counter, waiting patiently. It was unusual for him to be calm like that, she thought, thinking about their sixth year when he was hiding a vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement. She also couldn't help but remember Malfoy's endless taunts at Hogwarts but a while ago, he said muggles and there was no malice in it at all, which somehow pleased her.

"She looks just like you, Granger." he said, making Hermione jumped in surprise. "Your daughter, except for the hair, of course."

"Weas—oh," she felt herself flushing. "I get that a lot but she's a lot more. I mean—look at her. She looks beautiful and let's face it, I didn't look like that when I was at her age."

Motherhood suited her, he thought, noticing how Hermione glowed when she talked about her daughter and how her eyes twinkled when she looked at her. "Well, she didn't get your large front teeth," he commented, hoping that she wouldn't be offended.

And he's Malfoy again. "Don't start now, Malfoy," she threatened and stepped closer to him so Rose wouldn't hear what she was going to say. "I can easily hex your balls off."

Sod it. "I would pay a fortune to see you try," he dared smugly.

They were standing so close now that Hermione could see the lines on his face. Her eyes went down to stare at his pursing lips then to his heaving chest. She could smell him, the smell of his perfume mixing with his sweat was intoxicating.

Malfoy took a deep breath. "It's rude to stare, Granger."

"Sod off, Malfoy!" she flinched, reminding to hex herself later. What was wrong with her?

"I apologize for that. Got an owl back there. Lots of order!" Mr. Ollivander said, obviously happy and completely oblivious to what happened in his shop. They both stepped back and watched the old man as he resumed on putting a wand in its box, wrapped it in a brown paper and handed it to Malfoy, who paid seven Galleons in return.

"Lost your wand, Malfoy?" Hermione asked curiously, forgetting that they're usually not in speaking terms. She could recall vividly what Ollivander told them about the secret workings of wands and the time when Harry won the allegiance of Malfoy's hawthorn wand. Malfoy wouldn't lose another wand, would he?

Malfoy incredulously turned to her, sensing that they were thinking about the same thing. "No. It's for my son, Scorpius. Seriously, Granger? I'm not that shallow as you reckon."

She snorted, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "Why are you so defensive?"

Malfoy licked his lip and bit it, readying himself for a retort. He was interrupted by a loud delighted squeal from Hermione's daughter. Rose's face lightened up when she heard Scorpius' name, seeing the resemblance just now. She got quickly off the chair and goggled at the man. "Are you really Scorpius' father?"

Is staring their habit? "Yes. Do you know him?"

She nodded. "I—met him. He's really nice," she said shyly, turning scarlet.

"Taught him well." Draco smiled in a reserved manner to the girl and gave a curt nod to the wand maker before turning around to leave the shop when Hermione spoke, who suddenly remembered something.

"I found Rosie crying on our way here because of your prejudiced wife. Did you know?"

Draco's steps halted. What did Astoria do now? And to a kid? He wanted to say something comforting to Hermione's daughter, but couldn't find the right words to say. He reached for the knob and left, silently cursing Astoria and her prejudice.