A/N: This is the beginning of a series that's been on my mind for a while. It takes place present day, in 2017. Hope you enjoy!
"'Ermione!" Ron called, descending the stairs into their sitting room.
He popped his head into the living room, checking to see if he'd find his wife, sitting there reading. No such luck.
"Kitchen!" He spun around on the dark wood floor, and crossed through the dining room to the kitchen in their Ottery St. Catchpole home.
"Are you baking something?" He asked, astonished and leaning against the doorway.
"Yes! For your information. And I'm not using magic, either!" She grinned, mimicked pushing a pair of glasses back up the bridge of her nose, and turned back to the cutting board. Ron walked up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his head on her shoulder.
"Mmmm, I love lemon. Where are the children?"
"They're in the yard, playing Quidditch. Albie and Lily came over not too long ago- Harry and Ginny went to Diagon Alley with James to get some new robes."
"So we have some time, then!" Ron slid the shoulder of her top down his wife's arm, and began to kiss the exposed skin.
"Not now, we don't. I have to finish this cake to bring to the neighbors."
Ron paused - "So this isn't for us?"
"No, I'm making it for the couple who moved in down the street."
"Soddy neighbors." He pouted.
"Well, if you behave yourself, I'll let you have the first slice of the second loaf, when it's out of the oven."
His arms wrapped around her again and began to wander. "Good neighbors. Nice neighbors. Seems like a pleasant lot." He resumed kissing her neck, sweeping away the stray curls which had escaped from her bun.
"Muuuuum! Hugo's hogging my broom!" Rose called from the garden. Ron rested his head on the back of Hermione's neck, bracing his hands on the counter.
"Good while it lasted!" She chuckled and he walked over to the sliding glass door, where he stepped outside. The door closed again, and Hermione could hear her husband running interference between her two children, niece and nephew, and the four brooms, one of which was far superior to the others, and highly coveted.
Forty minutes later, Ron and Hermione stood on the front steps of a house, two down from theirs, and rang the bell. A dog could be heard barking loudly, somewhere in the home, and they heard footsteps inside. "Remember," Hermione whispered "they might be Muggles, so-"
"Right, so I should immediately start levitating their belongings-" She jabbed him with her elbow, as the door opened.
"Hi, I'm Hermione and this is my husband, Ron. We live right down the way, and noticed you moved in this last weekend! We made you a cake."
The woman who answered the door had a small toddler on her hip, and had a look of surprise on her face.
"Oh! That's so kind of you, won't you come in?" The two stepped inside the home which still had stacks of boxes laying about in various states. She closed the door, and spoke, looking slightly frazzled.
"I'm Nadia. My husband Tom is at the store with our daughter Georgiana- thank you so much for this!" Hermione handed Nadia the lemon cake, who then motioned that they follow her in through the entryway and to the kitchen. She placed the cake down on the counter.
"And who is this little one?" Hermione cooed at the small girl.
"This is Piper!" Nadia grabbed her tiny hand, waving it towards Hermione.
"Hello, Piper!" Hermione offered a finger, which Piper gladly grabbed and grinned back, two bottom teeth poking through her gums.
"I'll put the kettle on. Sorry the place is such a mess-"
"Oh, please we're intruding-"
"No, I insist, please stay. It's the least I can do. This cake smells delicious. Lemon?"
"Yes, I baked it this morning."
"You're too kind." Nadia cleared off some papers from the kitchen table, and placed a box in the corner. A small brown dog whined at them from the hallway, sitting behind a baby gate. She placed Piper on the kitchen floor with a small rattle, and began to fill the kettle from the tap.
"So, tell me about yourselves!" She placed the kettle on the stove, and pulled out three mugs from the cabinet above.
"Well, we live two places down at number eight; I work for the government, dealing with Human Rights laws, and Ron is home with our kids at the moment, though he's a part owner of the family business." It was the best explanation the two had been able to conjure up - and - aside from Hermione working for a different government than most assumed, was entirely truthful.
"That's lovely! You said you have children…?"
"Yes, a boy and a girl- Rose is almost eleven and going to boarding school this year, and Hugo is eight." They sipped their tea, and Nadia sliced into the cake, cutting through the lemon glaze which was fresh and fragrant, wafting through the air.
"I hope you don't mind me asking-" slightly concerned looks crossed Ron and Hermione's faces. "Are you the Ronald and Hermione who are friends with Harry Potter?"
"Oh, so you're a witch, then!" Ron exclaimed, taking a slurp of tea.
"No, I'm a Squib, actually." Ron then almost spit out said tea, pausing and wiping his mouth.
Hermione glared at him, and turned back to Nadia.
"I'm so sorry, Ron is-"
"Don't apologize, it's something I've long ago accepted. If I hadn't been born a Squib, I never would have had a muggle education, never would have met Tom, and I wouldn't have the daughters I have."
The paused, Hermione and Ron not quite sure what to say. Nadia sat down at the table, and continued.
"Squibs seem to run in my family- with magic skipping around like a genetic trait. My grandfather was a Squib and completely exiled from his family tree; my father was a wizard, and my two eldest sisters are witches, but I got to be the squib in the family."
"Wow! That's fascinating; I've been reading up on magical lineage, and- "
"To answer your question," Ron butted in "Yes, we are that Ron and Hermione. Hermione works for the Ministry, and I run Weasley's Wizard Wheezes with my brother, George."
Hermione blushed pink. "Yes, that's the complete answer. As I was saying, I've been doing some research about magical heritage, and it seems that while many believe they are muggle-born, there is much evidence to suggest that there is a witch or wizard ancestor within the previous three generations, but that they either had an undeveloped magical skill, had suppressed their magic somehow, or were without a physical manifestation of magic, but still carried the capability of training and possibly uncovering a dormant skill."
"I'd love to talk more about that- I've noticed some strange things with my daughters, willing things to happen, or experiencing odd effects when they have a strong feeling one way or another, and i've wondered if they have my dormant magic skills."
"Of course! That sounds similar to what many people have said- and my own experience as a muggle-born." She checked her watch.
"Speaking of children, we should probably head back- I said we'd only been gone a few minutes!"
Nadia rose from her chair, and collected their cups and plates.
"Thank you again for the cake and the warm welcome- I'd love for you all to come by again, especially once this place is in order. You could bring the children and we'll make an afternoon out of it."
"That sounds delightful."
Nadia walked them to the door, and hugged her new neighbors, grateful to have friends in the area.
"S'Lovely to meet you," Ron replied, after a mostly quiet tea.
"You as well." She smiled, and they walked down the steps, hearing the door close behind them.
"That went well!" Hermione exclaimed. Ron grabbed her hand as they strolled back towards their home, intertwining his fingers with hers.
"It really hit me, what she said- had she not gone to a muggle school, she wouldn't have met her husband, and wouldn't have the life that she has now. Your parents could have easily ignored your letter, and kept you at home, but they didn't. And I'll be forever grateful." He beamed at her, as the sun began to set.
"Now we just need to keep the same attitude come September 1st, when we put our baby girl on the train to Hogwarts."
"Don't remind me."