I really hope you guys like this chapter. I know it's late and I'm sorry. But I had horrible writer's block when I was mapping this story out. I could figure out what I wanted to say, but I didn't know how to say it. But, inspiration comes from the strangest places. For me, it was the produce section at the supermarket.

But I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I appreciate everyone that reviewed or favorited or followed this story. Thank you so much!


Although she felt free, Hermione cried herself to sleep that night, and she didn't sleep very well throughout the night.

Because of her typically overactive brain, Hermione woke up much earlier than normal. Her eyes popped open when the night was still pitch black, not even a speck of sunrise on the horizon. After several failed attempts to return to sleep, Hermione resolved to get up, her thoughts still plaguing her mind. Ron was Rose's father, but she had Hermione's brain, and her little girl was going to notice when her father did not show up for breakfast.

Not wanting to have the discussion with her daughter, she got dressed slowly, hoping to pass the time until the sun rose, postponing the inevitable questions. She finished getting ready much earlier than she'd hoped, that included brushing her hair into a high ponytail, with several strands of hair framing her face (thank goodness for sleak-easy's). She put on a ridiculously light about of make-up, strictly mascara and lip gloss (she refused to apply any more without looking like a tart or worse-Lavender). And poured a mug of very strong black coffee for herself (she would need the caffeine).

When she entered her kitchen, still in disarray, nearly all of the anger she felt last night returned to her in a wave. How could he have destroyed her kitchen magical repair? And then had gotten upset with her for calling him out on it? Utter nonsense.

Even so, a nagging feeling in her gut told her that she was being ridiculous, and that Ron did not deserve the harsh treatment that she gave to him. He was still one of her best friends.

Looking out of her window, between the lilac curtains, she could see the distinct pink and yellow rays of the sun across the purple sky. Hermione decided that it wasn't so painfully early anymore, at least by everyone else's standards and decided to get a second opinion by way of Luna Lovegood.

She could hardly go to any other one of her friends. They either were a Weasley themselves, or related to a Weasley through marriage. She would hate to make her friends choose between Ron and her.

Calling Luna through the Floo Network, she was more than a little relieved to see the blond girl's head through the smoke and flame. Despite the early hour of the morning, Luna's eyes were bright and she didn't show any signs of weariness.

"Hermione." Luna said dreamily. "I was expecting your call."

Hermione blinked, startled. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

Smiling, the blonde woman shook her head. "No, No. I was awake anyway." She sighed. "I was writing an article for the quibbler about a recent sighting I had of a blibbering humdinger, but the words won't come."

Luna organized the Quibbler after her father's death from the Killing Curse when Death Eaters attacked their home during the War. Hermione blamed herself, because if they hadn't gone to the Lovegood home then Xenophilius would not have died. Then again, if they hadn't gone there, they wouldn't have found out about the Deathly Hallows and long ago, Luna had assured her that it was more than justified. Saving the Wizarding World was more important, and Luna felt that her father would have agreed with her.

Luna had expanded the Quibbler into a full sized operation, competing heavily with the Daily Prophet for readers and subscribers. The Prophet was still first, but the Quibbler came in a very close second. It seemed that during the war, when Xenophilius Lovegood advocated for Harry, people realized that the Daily Prophet wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. However, that number was small and growing every day.

Hermione had no idea what exactly a Blibbering Humdinger was, but she just nodded anyway. "I'm sure it will come to you." She grimaced then, unsure how to proceed with her still raw topic. "I wanted to talk to you about—,"

"You kicked Ron out." Luna said as a statement more than a question. "And you want a second opinion."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. Sometimes she forgot how Luna just knew things. Luna could sometimes predict emotions that others felt or ideas they would have before they even considered a topic themselves. It was freaky sometimes, the amount of times that Luna predicted something accurately.

"How did you—," Hermione said at first, but then resigned herself to admitting that Luna's otherworldly knowledge was not restrictive. "Yes. I did. And I feel awful about it."

Despite feeling better with an angry Ron out of the house, she could not help the sick, guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach at what she had done. She had never kicked him out before, threatened it definitely, dreamed about it for sure, but had never acted on her feelings. Was it right for her to remove the father of her child from the house that was supposed to be a warm and loving environment?

"Are you sure that you feel as awful as you think?" Luna asked her, her faraway gaze hardening. "Because I don't think so."

"What are you talking about, Luna? I don't understand."

Luna's smile remained on her face. "It would be easier if I could just tell you in person. Why don't you come on over? Bring Rose. I'm about to start making breakfast for the kids."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. She looked back into the hallway at her daughter's closed bedroom door. Turning back to Luna, she said, "I don't know, we got in pretty late last night. I'd rather let her sleep."

This did not seem to impede Luna in the slightest. "She can sleep in Alice's bedroom, her bed's large enough. And Pandora would love to see her best friend so early in the morning."

Considering this, Hermione nodded. "I'll be right over."

"Okay," Luna nodded. Her eyes seemed to get further and further away. I'll leave the floo open for you."

Ending the Floo Call, Hermione stood and walked over to the rack that held coats and jackets. Reaching the top, she grabbed a worn leather shoulder bag and made her way to Rose's room. It was her old school bag, which now served as her daughter's travelling bag. Entering Rose's room, she filled it with things her daughter might need. An extra changes of clothes, her coloring book, various snacks just in case she didn't like Luna's cooking.

Feeling confident that she'd packed enough, (a little too much, Harry would say), she turned to Rose's bed and smiled at what she found. There were two large lumps underneath the covers of Rose's bed. Peeking out from underneath were two tufts of curly red-orange hair, identical in every way. A pale foot stuck out from under the bed as Hermione identified the lump closest to her as her daughter, leaving the other lump to only be Crookshanks.

The half-kneazle was fiercely protective of Rose, always by her side nearly every second she was at home, and assisting the little girl whenever she needed it. As Ron started to get harder and harder to control, especially when drinking, Hermione had begun to fear that he'd eventually turn his drunken rage on Rose, who seemed to get less and less of his attention as days went by. But Crookshanks would always be there as Ron got out of control, either standing in front of Rose protectively or ushering her out of the room. Ron never turned violent with his anger when he and Hermione fought, but he would become very loud, and the language he used was not something she wanted her daughter to pick up.

Walking over to her daughter's bedside, she pulled back the covers to reveal her sleeping daughter and an orange cat. Hermione picked up her daughter with minor difficulty. She hadn't had the need to exercise in a very long time, and her baby girl wasn't as small as she once had been. When Crookshanks felt the bed shift, he raised his head lethargically and stared at Hermione.

"Yes I'm taking Rose, Go back to sleep Crookshanks." She said to him, and Crookshanks gave her a curious look. "No Ron isn't home." Crookshanks' dislike of Ron had not dissipated with time. And ever since Rose was born, the animosity between her familiar and her husband only grew worse.

Crookshanks, though, appeared to get the message and went back to sleep, after giving Hermione an annoyed sniff. She shook her head at her cat before noticing that Rose was awake, and looking at her with droopy eyes. "Hi, mummy."

"Morning, sweetheart." Hermione said. "How would you like to visit Aunt Luna and Uncle Neville?"

Rose smiled and nodded before resting her tired head on her mother's shoulders. Her wand in her pocket, bag on one shoulder, and Rose in the other, Hermione stepped into the Floo before calling out Luna Lovegood's name.

Appearing in the floo of the Lovegood-Longbottom home, Hermione saw that it was in as much disarray as it always was. The kitchen was re-built, actually, the entire house was re-built and Luna had enlisted the help of her husband and children to paint it as brightly as it was before. Yellow and green flowers decorated the blue cabinets and red, purple and orange swirls covered everything from the refrigerator, to the stove, to the archway of the kitchen of itself. The window curtains were in a pure white fabric with blue and orange flowers on them. They moved in the breeze as if they were alive. A drawn butterfly flit from curtain to curtain, pollinating the painted flowers as though they were real.

Luna was standing by the stove, wearing an orange summer dress with a frilly pink apron stirring a pot of something. The smell drifted to Hermione's nose, and smelled like a combination of peppers, corn and potatoes; though she was sure that wasn't what it contained. Luna was known around her friends as an…unconventional cook.

Hearing the Floo activate, Luna turned in Hermione's general direction. "Hermione! Come on in!" Luna moved away from the stove, the pot still stirring itself even though Luna was halfway across the room. Taking the bag from Hermione's shoulder, she looked at the still sleeping Rose and said, "I conjured a bed in Xeno's room. There isn't enough space in Alice and Pan's room yet, and Augusta is downstairs… I don't think she would take it very kindly if she were woken up at this hour."

Luna was referring to one of the many additions to the Lovegood home that came to be within the past 10 years. To Hermione, the house always seemed to be growing on the inside, up and up, and the spiral staircase going between each level seemed to go on forever. On the first floor, was the kitchen, living room and dining room. The second held Xenophilius' bedroom, as well as the bedroom Alice and Pandora shared, the top floor held Luna and Neville's master bedroom with a skylight so that Luna could look at the stars whenever she wished. Down below, Augusta Longbottom, Neville's grandmother resided. At first, the hard old witch wasn't happy when she found out that Neville planned to marry the "barmy" daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood, but once she got to know Luna, she was as charmed by her as everyone else was.

Hermione carried Rose up the stairs to Xeno's room. He was the same age as his best friend Fred II, and at seven years old was more than enough for Luna and Neville to handle. Pandora was a year younger than Xeno and the same age as Rose. The three often found themselves playing together along with Fred whenever Rose was around because at age 11, Alice was more content to be around Albus, Roxanne, Victoire, Teddy and James.

A cot with a blue blanket over it was in the room next to Xeno's bed, closer to the door. Xeno's room was covered in posters of England's top quidditch teams. The Chudley Cannons, Puddlemere United, and the Holyhead Harpies just to name a few. He even had a poster of Ginny Weasley in her old uniform before she retired. Hermione set Rose down on the small cot, and covered her with the blanket. As she took in the peaceful expression on her daughter's face, she could only think that she never wanted to see her daughter sad. Ever.

When she went back downstairs, she found that Luna was again standing by the stove, sprinkling green and orange powder into the pot that still stirred itself. "Anything that I can help you with?" She asked.

Luna turned and shook her head. "No, I'm quite alright."

"Alright." She said and sat down at the table, looking at the room as a whole. The furniture was mismatched, both in color and in design, but there was a surprising order to the chaos that Hermione wouldn't have expected from Luna Longbottom née Lovegood. Above the fireplace, surrounded by artwork of nargles and Crumple-horned Snorkack was Neville's Certification as a Professor of Herbology. Turning to Luna with her eyes still on the certificate, she asked. "Is Neville teaching this year?"

"Neville?" Luna asked dreamily. "Of course. He's so excited to see Alice get sorted first-hand. Not many parents get to do that, you know."

"Will he stay at the castle then? Or will he be coming back here?" Hermione asked. Sinceshe was going to be a professor at Hogwarts now, she had better learn the tips and tricks of what to do, and what not to do.

Luna turned off the stove, and turned to face her with a thoughtful expression. "Sometimes he stays at the castle. During Midterm and Final exams…He's required to be there a few nights a week considering that he's Head of Hufflepuff and a student may need him." Luna's eyes went wide. "Would you like some Dirigible tea? Made from our own Dirigible plums of course."

Hermione shrugged. "Do you have any coffee? Instead of tea?" She asked. "I didn't sleep much last night."

Luna pointed to what must be dark circles under her eyes. "I can tell. But you don't want coffee. That stuff's just no good for you, Hermione." She set about making some tea. "Dirigible tea is just as good, and is healthier for you.

"Alright. If you say so, Luna." Hermione said cautiously as Luna made the tea with a flick of her wand. It was ready in an instant and Luna levitated the two cups over, steaming hot.

Hermione hesitantly picked up a cup and sipped it, whispering a cooling charm under her breath. She had long since mastered wandless magic, although her power was more concentrated when she actually did use her wand. Dirigible tea tasted no sweeter than an apple, but had more of the zest of orange. It was tart as well, yet at the same time overwhelmingly bland. A mixture of flavors unlike anything that Hermione had ever tasted before.

"So, I know you want to talk about Ron." Luna said, smiling at her friend. "But why exactly have you come to me? Why not go to Ginny, you are closer with her?"

For a moment, Hermione felt bad about the way she treated Luna in school. Of course, the girl was eccentric, but then again it was a magical school. Nothing about it made sense, as much as people tried. But the guilty feeling was only there for a moment, before it went away, because there was nothing malicious in Luna's eyes.

"I can't go to anyone else. All of my closest friends are either a Weasley, or married to a Weasley and I just can't make anyone choose between Ron and I." Hermione took another sip.

"Hm..." Luna said, leaning forward. Looking at Hermione with her steel-blue gaze over the rim of her teacup, she said knowingly. "You talk about it as if you were separated."

Hermione thought about it. "Well…" She blushed. "Technically, I suppose, we are sepa—,"

"No, no, I meant…as if you were permanently separated."

Hermione's mouth fell open so wide she swore her bottom lip touched her shoes. What could she say to that? Permanently separated? As in, divorced? As in, no longer married? At all? What was she supposed to say?

Fortunately, she was spared from answering, because at that moment, Neville decided to walk downstairs. She had never liked Neville more than that moment. He was wearing a gray flannel shirt with dark blue muggle jeans. Luna was closest to the stairs, so he saw her first.

"Morning, love." He said, kissing her on the cheek. Hermione felt a pang of jealousy go through her chest. Ron had never done that. Not even in all of the years they'd been married.

"Good morning." Luna smiled dreamily, pulling Neville in for a quick kiss on the lips.

When Neville looked up, he saw Hermione sitting across from his wife and immediately turned as red as a tomato. "Hermione! When'd you get here? I never heard the floo."

"That's because you sleep like the dead, darling." Luna giggled. Sobering, she turned to her husband. "Come, sit. Hermione has a problem, and I think you may help her more than I."

Hermione didn't really see how this was possible, seeing how Neville wasn't a woman, and therefore wouldn't understand her pain fully, but Luna just somehow knew things, and Hermione had to trust that knowledge.

"All right." Neville said, grabbing a chair and sitting in it next to his wife. Hermione noticed how both of their hands rested on the table, only centimeters apart, as though one of them could reach out and stroke the other one's hand at any moment. Again, she felt another jealous hit. He looked at her with bright brown eyes. "How can I help, Hermione?"

"I'mthinkingofleavingRon." She said all in one breath. Neville blinked at her.

"Technically, she already did." Luna pointed out, smiling wistfully.

"Well…" Neville coughed, covering his mouth with his hand. "What brought this on, exactly? I thought you guys were happy?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know. We were happy—at least I thought, we were. But yesterday I realized that I'm tired of cleaning up after his messes. I've been doing it since I was eleven, and I don't want to do it anymore." She looked up at her friends. "Am I wrong?"

"No…" Neville told her. " I suppose there's only one more question to ask: Do you love him?"

"Of course I do, he's one of my best friends." The response came to her lips almost immediately. She had been telling herself this for so long, the response became almost immediate.

"No, I don't mean like that." Neville started, but Luna cut him off.

"Do you love him as a husband? The way that I love Neville." Said husband covered his wife's hand with his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. Luna responded with a hopelessly adoring look that made Hermione surprisingly envious. Ron never did anything like that with her.

And it was then she realized. Ron never did it. Ever.

"No…" She said, feeling a bit giddy to say the words out loud. She let out a laugh. "I don't love him that way! I don't love Ronald Weasley!" She continued to laugh while giggling to herself that she did not, in fact, love Ronald Weasley.

It was a slightly terrifying thought. Did all of those years mean nothing but a lie? A false hope that things might be better. No, of course not. They were only a reflection of the life that she thought she was supposed to have, not destined to have. She remembered the weight of the Hogwarts letter in her hand. That was what she was supposed to become. Not Ronald Weasley's broodmare, and certainly not someone who put her own happiness on hold for someone else.

"I think she's gone mad!" Neville gasped, turning to his wife.

"Nonsense dear." Luna patted her husband on the cheek. "I think that Hermione Granger has just realized that she is just as sane as I am."

What Hermione felt was true, of course. She trusted knowledge, but she also trusted her instincts. And what they were telling her was that Ronald Weasley was a complete git and she needed to fix what had gone wrong. When they got married, it was a month after the war and everyone was doing it. Everyone felt so caught up in the moment that getting married seemed like the natural thing to do. George and Angelina, Harry and Ginny, even Neville and Luna got married and had a baby.

Fleur was already pregnant with Victoire by the time she and Ron said, "I do." She could hardly marry anyone else other than Ron. Maybe if Victor Krum had proposed to her, she would have said yes. But he didn't, so she said yes to Ron, instead. She didn't love him, and yet, there were so many consequences for this epiphany. The largest and most important consequence was two floors above, sound asleep.

She would never do anything to hurt her daughter, and that included having her wait for her dad to pay attention to her, or treat her as Harry treated his kids. She didn't see it happening any time in the future, so why force Rose to wait until he did?

Hermione Granger always had a plan. And it was a plan that would change her entire life that came to her head now.

"Neville…" She directed her attention to her friend, trying to calm herself. "When you needed legal help, where did you go?"

His eyes squinted as he tried to recall what happened six years ago. When Neville first applied to get his certificate to teach at Hogwarts once Pomona Sprout retired, the Ministry tried to take it away from him due to the fact that he had not finished a proper education. But with the help of an amazing lawyer, Neville was able to prove that what he'd learned during the war, how to make Healing Salves with plants he'd nicked from the Green House, forays into the forbidden forest to find the best medicines unavailable to the students at Hogwarts, Neville had more practical experience than any other applicants.

"Bini and Foy, I think. The lawyer they set me up with was nice, Hermione. If you want, I can give her a call."

"No thanks, Neville." She said, shaking her head. "I want to do this on my own." She had to do it on her own. Hermione stood, and looked at both of her friends. Bwnding over, she kissed Neville on the cheek. "Thank you Neville, I owe you."

"Glad I could help, Hermione." Neville said as he watched the woman bounce on the ball's of her feet. He turned to Luna. "What exactly did I do?"

"Don't worry about it, dear." Luna advised.

"Will you watch Rose for me?" Hermione asked as she moved away from them towards the floo.

"Of course." Neville said without hesitation. "But what exactly are you planning?"

"I don't want to say it out loud," Hermione said. "For fear that may never go through with it if I do."


Blaise Zabini rubbed his temple, trying to soothe the pain bubbling in his brain. Not even 9:00 and he could already feel the makings of a migraine coming on. He threw the file he was holding in the pile with the other useless ones, and let out a groan of frustration before his head fell into his hands. Why was he cursed to be surrounded by complete imbeciles? He glared at the last case file he had just gone through, laughing to himself at the ridiculousness of it all.

A woman was suing her tailor because the custom dress she ordered only had 900 rhinestones on it instead of the 950 that she had ordered. They had tried to get the woman to agree to a settlement, but the stubborn woman refused to compromise, and expected the dress for free. The case has been going on for 3 weeks with no sign of a deal. Blaise could barely keep alert during the depositions, and felt like a fool during court when trying to explain his client's case to a ministry official judging the case.

This wasn't exactly what he wanted when he left the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to work for Draco's private firm. He wanted the job of an Auror, without the occasional occupational hazards that came with the territory.

He thought he would be solving big cases, handling top clients and making big money. What he got instead was gem-studded dresses and demanding, pureblood clients who thought that because of their blood status, all disagreements they seemed to have with one another were of national concern.

He was going to have to talk to Draco about this, though he was not anticipating that discussion in the least.

Rising, he walked over to his door, and poked his head out into the atrium of the building. Leaving his office, Blaise approached the circular desk with four receptionists around a marble column. He approached the receptionist closest to his office. She also happened to be his favorite person in the building. With long red-brown hair that changed color depending on which way she looked at you and assets that turned every single head in the office building, how could he not like her that much? He had flirted with the idea of shagging her a time or two, but then there was Draco's damn rule about "fraternizing within the office" And he did not think that Draco would make an exception for anyone, not even his son's Godfather.

When he approached, the woman looked up and smiled. She was wearing a low cut button down shirt and a very short pencil skirt. She giggled, leaning back in her chair so Blaise could see her body and her very suggestive clothing "Good Morning, Mr. Zabini."

"Lisa," Blaise said, appreciating the view. "Is Draco in yet?"

She nodded, giggling once more. "He just arrived. Would you like me to send him a message?" She asked, closer leaning forward, giving him an ample view of her chest. And as much as he'd much rather stay and talk to her, speaking with Draco was more important.

"No, thank you. I'll go speak to him myself." Blaise said, starting to walk to Draco's office door.

"Oh, Mr. Zabini," Lisa called him back. He turned around. She cupped her hand around her mouth, whispering, "I'd be careful...he's in one of his moods again."

Draco Malfoy was not exactly a morning person. Far from it as a matter of fact. He sipped at his coffee leisurely at his desk, in no hurry whatsoever to get started with the day, and in no mood to deal with the ridiculous amount of paperwork on his desk. The morning sun shone brightly through the large window at his side. He cursed the Sun, and every chipper, happy-go-lucky person that was actually awake at this god-awful hour.

As long as no one came to bother him until at least 10:00, he'd be quite alright.

Of course, as soon as he thought that, someone had to knock on his door. "Come in." He said, gritting his teeth.

In walked Blaise Zabini, his business partner, as if he didn't know that Draco hated to see anyone in the mornings. "Malfoy we need to talk." He said, ignoring the glare Draco sent his way.

"About what?" Draco forced himself to not yell at his son's Godfather. Of course he knew about what. Blaise had been coming to see him to discuss the same topic every single day for the past week.

"Our firm has nothing. We are nothing." Blaise said bluntly. "We're losing every respectable case to lawyers from the Ministry. They get the million galleon cases, and I'm stuck with rhinestones."

"You think I don't know that?" Draco forced out. "No one wants to have two pure-blood sympathizers represent them in court. And they definitely don't want to have my name attached to the list." Former Death Eater as he was, although technically he'd never received the Dark Mark…but still, he carried his Father's sins with him, even to this day.

Following the War, Draco had tried to do his best to restore the Malfoy name to glory, but so far, no such luck. People just were not willing to forget the past and everything that he, and his family had done. It was likely that they still blamed him for Dumbledore's death. And no matter how many times he had tried to explain that it was not his fault, people still refused to listen because the Wizarding World would rather believe a lie that made them feel good, rather than the crushing truth.

"I thought that was the whole purpose of disguising the name of the company. So people don't recognize you."

"Despite what you may think, Zabini, people aren't as stupid as you've been led to believe." Draco told him, rolling his eyes. He finished his coffee before tossing the empty cup into the trash can at the side of his desk.

"I joined this firm because of you, Draco." Blaise said simply, his meaning clear. "But I'm starting to regret my decision."

"You would walk out on me?!" Draco snapped at his friend. "I thought our friendship meant more to you than money Zabini."

"Of course it does. I was with you and Scorpius when Astoria—,"

"Watch it, Zabini." Draco all but growled at his friend. "Don't go there."

Blaise winced. "Sorry. I know it's still a sore subject." Draco gripped the coffee mug tighter, trying not to break from what Blaise was saying. It still hurt to think about, even after all of this time. "But it's been seven years, Draco. You would think that—,"

"I said… Don't go there, Blaise."

"She was my friend too, Draco." Blaise muttered under his breath, but the Italian gave him a look that greatly resembled pity. Draco frowned. He hated when someone pitied him. But Draco didn't need his pity. He didn't need anyone's pity. He had his son, and his mother, and that's all that really mattered wasn't it?

Zabini cleared his throat to ease the tension in the room. "Anyway, we both know that in order to maintain the lifestyle to which you and I are so accustomed, that requires a stable and steady income. And as of right now, we have neither."

"I know that." Draco said, rubbing his forehead. His head was starting to pound and it was barely 9:00. Much too early for a headache. He sighed. "You're right. We have to do something, or we risk losing it all."

With his father still in Azkaban, and his mother wanting to keep up societal appearances, he had to do something about his cash flow problem.

"I've been thinking." Blaise was saying, "What if we downsize, cut our number of litigators in half? I think we could afford the loss of staff. We'd save a bundle, but everyone would have double the course work. You're good with finances, you tell me."

Draco thought for a moment, adding and subtracting numbers in his head. "It could work," he finally said, after a minute of deliberation. "We'd just make it, but we'd survive. For another month." He grumbled, his lips pressed into a hard line. "But then the bills would just come again, and we couldn't afford to cut more staff."

"We just need one client." Blaise said, his expression thoughtful. "One client who can raise the name and reputation of our firm."

"Yeah." Draco agreed sarcastically. "Now if only that person would drop from the sky."

A knock on the door broke Draco's concentration. The red head of Lisa, Blaise's favorite secretary poked her head into the room. Her eyes found Blaise first as he turned to face her, before fixing them on Draco. Her eyes roamed his face, before traveling to his chest and further down.

"You do realize that you've interrupted a very important meeting?" He raised an eyebrow at her, questioning her behavior.

She flickered, focusing on what she originally came in to the room to do. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, I apologize for disturbing you, but there's a new client you should see."

"A new client? Why should we have to see this new client?" Draco asked her. "Just dump him on one of the junior associates and don't bother us about him."

"But she's—," Lisastarted to say but Blaise cut her off.

"Whoever she is, can't be all that interesting."

And Draco couldn't help but agree. After all, no important clients had come to his firm since Neville Longbottom. And he knew he had to be facing bankruptcy when he called Neville Longbottom, the Magical failure, an important client.

"Did she say what she wanted?" Draco asked.

"Well…" Lisa told them. "She just wants a consultation, but she said she's willing to pay any amount to keep the fact that she came in here confidential." The secretary whispered the last word. "Trust me, Sir. She can afford it."

Draco raised an eyebrow. So they finally had a rich client, then hm? "And who exactly is this client that seeks utmost confidentiality?" He stood and made his way to the door of his office. Opening it, he peered outside, and his jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw who was sitting in his lobby twiddling her thumbs nervously.

Hermione Granger.


So that was this chapter! The next should get more into Scorpius' life a bit more, before all of the kids finally go to Hogwarts and Hermione has her first taste of being a professor.

You guys have no idea how much reviews make me smile. So please leave me one, even if it's just a word or two :D

Little Martian~