Harry couldn't believe it. How he had forgotten that it was the first Quidditch match of the season he would never know, but looking beside him at the Scottish witch, he was glad that he did. Lily was going to see her brothers first match, and from the best seat in the stands, Minerva's lap. Chuckling at the memory of the other Professor's surprise when Minerva had pulled the little redhead up onto her lap to see, Harry turned back to watch the game, but his attention kept drifting to the two women beside him. He hadn't seen Lily, or Minerva for that matter, so happy in a long time. Catching Minerva's eyes, he smiled, once again turning back to the game.

Later that day, Minerva and Harry sat in the back room of Minerva's office for some tea. Lily had begged to hang out with James and Albus, so Harry had let her, after warning the boys to keep a close eye on her.

As Minerva poured the tea, she looked up at Harry, her lips twitching, "So, did you enjoy the surprise?"

Glancing up, Harry did a double take. "Uh…"

Sometime during him sitting down, Minerva had removed her outer-robes, leaving her in a black blouse and matching skirt. Bent over pouring the tea, her shirt hung freely, allowing Harry to see the burgundy corset she wore. Clearing his throat, he focused on the pictures on the wall, "It was a lovely surprise, thank you."

Chuckling, Minerva sat down beside him, handing him his tea, "I thought you'd enjoy it. Especially as it was James's first match." Crossing her legs, she smiled, "He did well."

Harry nodded, taking a sip of his tea.

"I suppose you taught him how to fly."

"Yes, I taught them all, just in case something happens and they need to get away."

Minerva frowned, "You think something would happen? Even after so many years?"

Harry gave a hollow laugh, "Minerva, I'm the Head of the Auror department, I've helped put away hundreds of criminals, I'm sure most of them would love to hurt me if they had the chance."

Shaking her head, Minerva sat back, "You've become quite cynical and paranoid Mr. Potter."

"It's what's kept me and my man alive over the years."

It was a good thing it was a weekend, because Minerva and Harry spent the rest of their day talking about anything that came to mind. Eventually, the topic of Hermione came around.

"It it true she's finally going for her masters in Charms?" Minerva asked as she refilled their cups.

Nodding, Harry smiled in thanks as he took the black liquid, "Yes, she said she's tired of being under Ron's thumb." Harry sighed, looking down into the cup he held, "She also thinks he's stepping out on her."

"And you? What do you think?"

"I know he is." Harry whispered, "Don't get me wrong, I haven't seen him with anyone or seen any proof of it, but he's stopped paying even the smallest amount attention to 'Mione like he used to."

Shaking her head, Minerva sat back in the seat, "I never thought Ronald was well suited for Hermione, but I trusted her to know what she wanted."

Following suit, Harry drank from his cup, "Neither did I, but I thought if anyone could make it work, it'[d be Hermione," He sighed, "It's going to break her when they divorce."

"You think it'll come to that?" Minerva inquired, looking at him.

Harry nodded, "I know Hermione, she wont stay with him after this. She's not that kind of woman to put herself through the pain for the sake of her image."

"Not even for the children?"

A sharp laugh broke free before Harry could stop himself, "I'm more of a father to Rose and Hugo then Ron is."

Not that long later, Harry found himself walking around the castle with Minerva in search of his daughter. It was time for them to leave. As they turned the corner to the staircase, Harry finally realized that Minerva seemed to know exactly where they need to go as she wasn't looking around the young red head.

Shaking his head, he laughed, "I should have realized you'd know where she is."

"Mmm," Minerva hummed as she picked up the front of her robes to walk up the stairs.

Laughing once more, Harry followed her to Gryffindor tower to collect his wayward daughter.

That night as Harry laid in bed, he dreamt of a laughing woman in a red corset.