Chapter 1: Reconnecting with Colleagues
Hermione Weasley batted away the steamy mist emanating from the Hogwarts Express as she looked her daughter over one final time. "Bag. Jumper." she checked off. Satisfied, she hugged her daughter. "I'm so glad this isn't goodbye! I can't believe I'm coming with you this term! I haven't been on the Hogwarts Express since I was a sixth year!"
"Yeah, cause you and Dad and Uncle Harry dropped out," her son, Hugo, snickered without any malice, as he lugged his trunk onto the train. He would be starting his first year this fall, and he was nervous, all the more so because his Mummy was coming with him. Hermione knew inherently that it would be hard for Hugo to adjust to her being there, but her son had insisted he would be fine.
Glancing around, Hermione bit her lip. Not everyone was here to see this occasion, one notable absence in particular aching her heartstrings.
Ron Weasley had quite suddenly passed away earlier that year. Bad case of pneumonia. His death had rocked the wizarding world and the Weasley brood, leaving Hermione a widow, leaving her without her husband, the love of her life and best friend for the first time in almost three decades. The family had rallied around her for the funeral that spring, and in the months since, Hermione had thrown herself into work at the Ministry while also rearing Hugo as he finished Muggle primary school.
Then, over the summer, Minerva McGonagall had come to call at the Weasley home and offered Hermione the professorship for Charms at Hogwarts. Hugo had actually given a vote of confidence, and Hermione had agreed to the job offer. It would make a nice change from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and besides, Hermione had always loved learning and teaching. She remembered fondly teaching her children their letters when they were babies.
The clock chimed 11:00 and the train whistle blew. "All aboard, everybody!" Hermione encouraged, and she, Hugo and her 13-year-old daughter Rose boarded the locomotive. As soon as the train began to set into motion, Hermione waved the two kids down to an empty compartment. Rose paused at the door when her mother did not follow. "Come on, Mum."
Hermione just smiled and shook her head. Hard as it was, she was going to make a concerted effort to stay as non-intrusive into her children's lives as possible. It went against a lot of her instincts - maternal and otherwise - but she knew her babies would both come to appreciate it, especially Hugo, though he was too polite and considerate to say so. "It's all right, love. I'll find an empty compartment toward the back. You and Hugo get settled in. Have fun, find your friends and cousins."
Hugo shot her a grateful look over Rose's shoulder, and the two waved as Hermione moved on down the central causeway, eventually finding a private compartment close to the caboose. Taking a seat, her handbag on the armrest beside her, Hermione dug into the accessory and propped open a book, following her tradition of traversing the long journey by reading.
In the chaos of the Hogwarts station, Hermione said a quick goodbye to Rose and Hugo as they headed to the threstral carriages, and slipped away, preferring to make the final leg to the castle on foot. She made great time, entering the gates and heading on final approach to the Great Hall as the bobbing lights from the first-year boats were still swarming across the lake.
Minerva greeted Hermione quietly in the Entrance Hall, then led her to the staff table in the Great Hall, where everything was prepared for the Start-of-Term speech. Right away, Hermione spied a familiar toothy grin as its owner plopped into the chair next to her.
"I was so pleased to hear you had been brought onboard!" Neville Longbottom crowed in greeting as he and Hermione exchanged a hug. "Grand to see you, Hermione. It's been too long."
Hermione smiled with sentimental affection at her old friend. "Indeed it has, Nev."
Neville nodded. "You look lovely."
Hermione ducked to hide a smile, even as she felt her face grow warm. "Th... Thank you."
"So: how are the children?" Neville smiled as he began to cut into his meal.
"Amazing. Hugo is starting his first year."
"That's right," Neville slapped his hand on the table as he remembered. "Harry mentioned it to me over drinks not to long ago. You must be very proud." He paused, his voice dropping slightly as he then inquired. "And how are you feeling right now?"
Hermione appreciated the phrasing. In the initial weeks after Ron's death, person after person would come and ask her how she was feeling. As if the answer wasn't obvious. In reading up on grieving (part of her involved process for coping), Hermione had come to learn that the best way to ask after a despondent person was to ask how they were feeling in the moment, rather than in general. She silently thanked and praised Neville for his sensitivity. It made her recall the beautiful bouquet of flowers that Neville had brought with him to the funeral, as part of his condolences. She still had those flowers, carefully preserved with magic and sitting in a vase on her kitchen table. The accompanying sympathy card had been equally as sweet.
"I'm... doing better, thank you," Hermione smiled bravely, then sighed. "It's been a long year."
Neville nodded in understanding. "You'll be happy here," he promised her. "The children will be with you, and if you ever need anything... I'm always on hand."
Hermione glanced up into his face, meeting his eyes, and smiled weakly, appreciatively. She dared to squeeze his hand. "Thank you, Neville."
She retracted her hand too quickly, averting her eyes to focus on her plate. Something about Neville's expression, his earnest sincerity, left her... flustered. She couldn't quite pinpoint the cause, only that she appreciated Neville's company. Aside from him and Minerva, she didn't know anyone else on the Hogwarts staff. It would be nice to have a friend.
And no doubt about it: Neville had really grown up - and grown into himself - since they were children, since he and Hermione had been in school. His baby fat was long gone, and in its place was lean muscle and all-around handsome features. The dirt that Neville dealt with daily as the Herbology professor gave him a rugged look that only added to how... handsome he appeared.
Hermione shook her head as the first years were led before the Sorting Hat. She was a young widow, and still navigating the stages of mourning her late husband. She didn't have time to go searching for a new relationship. Even so, Neville was so dear and understanding...
Like she had told herself before: it would be nice to have a friend.