I don't own Harry Potter! Sad me.


Pray you now, forget and forgive.

-Shakespeare, King Lear


Draco leaned against the tree they'd spread the blanket under and watched anxiously as Barclay ran about with Viola and Ronald, shrieking and smiling happily as they played a raucous game of tag. Hermione touched his shoulder and he turned to smile at her tightly, but his shoulders didn't relax, despite his carefree pose.

Barclay may have been doing much better, but did the boy really need to keep tumbling on the grass that way? And did Viola need to pounce on him so? And was Ronald really going to-

"Ronald, don't rough house too much!" Ginny called and the little red head held back from joining Viola's impromptu pile-up on the small blond boy. She shot Draco an understanding grin and he smiled back.

"Thank you," he breathed out and finally felt his shoulders release their tension. Hermione took her hand away and passed him a bottle of something.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Lemonade."

"Ah. Believe it or not, I know what that is."

"I never said you didn't," she replied evenly. Then she patted him on the shoulder again and moved over to talk to Ginny in soft tones. He watched her go for a moment, a smile playing about his lips before he looked back to the children. Now they were tossing a disc around in the brisk air and looking rather pleased with themselves. They all looked so much like their parents that Draco felt a tug of nostalgia. What would his life had been like, he wondered, if he'd been friends with the Weasleys and the Grangers or Potters when he was a boy?

It was useless dreaming, he knew. But what if? If he'd been allowed to be friends with other kids the way his own son was now running around- carefree, happy, innocent. There would be no blot of prejudice or unfounded hatred and anger on his own son's life. He and Pansy had vowed that a long time ago. But seeing it coming to fruition now, without her…he didn't know what to feel. How to feel. Someone moved in and sat next to him and he looked over to see Neville sitting there, smiling out at the same scene he was.

"What I wouldn't give to be that age again, eh?" he said, jostling Draco's shoulder a bit.

"To be them, I think, actually," Draco replied. "My own childhood…there were good moments. There are always good moments. And my parents loved me, but it was tempered. Everything was colored by who they were and what they felt their destiny was."

"I know what you mean," Neville agreed. "Merlin knows being raised by Gran was difficult…but I still wouldn't trade it for anything. I'm proud of who I am. Now I just want to see him grow up to feel the same," he said, nodding at Ronald's form as he ran through the grass of the park.

Draco squinted thoughtfully. "I'm not sure how I feel. How I ought to feel."

"You should be proud, too, Draco," Neville said. "Your parents…they did what they thought was right, out of love for you. And you've done more than make up for things, haven't you?"

"Have I?" Draco replied, tilting his head to look at his companion. The tall brunette looked over at him and shrugged.

"What do you think?"

Draco looked away, his gaze taking in Hermione and then the children once again. "I guess I have." He felt the grip on his heart ease a little and knew Pansy had been proud of him, too. That should have told him all he needed to know. He was loved…and forgiven.

Neville nodded reasonably and took a sip of his own drink before he set it down suddenly and got to his feet. "Hey! Ronald, don't you dare eat that!" Then he was off the blanket and running for the group of children and Draco grinned stupidly, put down his own drink and ran after him.

Hermione and Ginny looked over at them quickly before turning back to each other. "I don't know how that child is still alive, honestly," Ginny huffed a bit, rolling her eyes. "He puts more things in his mouth than come out the other end."

Hermione wrinkled her nose and laughed. "Gin! Well, I'm lucky Vi never felt it necessary to follow suit."

"She has that charmer Barclay as a role model, of course she's well behaved."

"Right. And I'm the Queen of Sheba."

"Well…better behaved than Ronald, at least," Ginny pointed out, laughing. She bounced one of the twins on her lap a little and the toddler looked up at her brightly. Hermione smiled indulgently and looked down at the twin in her own arms.

"So, any tips?"

"For raising twins? None. Constant vigilance," she quoted in her best McGonagall impression and Hermione laughed again.

"Lord, don't remind me of that. Those were the days, weren't they?"

"They were certainly some sort of days. I wouldn't repeat them if you paid me."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"He's changed, hasn't he?"

Hermione glanced up from tugging her necklace from the baby's mouth and looked confused. "Who?"

"Draco," Ginny replied, nodding in the direction of the men and children. They were taking turns pretending to be aurors, now, held aloft by Draco and Neville. That or fighter pilots, Hermione wasn't sure which. "I mean, really changed," Ginny continued. "Not just grown up and started a family- those are the sorts of things anyone might do. But he's different."

Hermione lost track of time for a moment as she gazed at him, seeing what Ginny saw. Her friend was perfectly right, of course. It tugged at her own heart, knowing how true it was. After all, how many times had she wished, that Fall so many years ago, for him to be the way he was now? Free from the prejudices and falsehoods of his youth and family; free from the marks of dark magic; able to live in harmony with muggles and anyone, really. Able to love as freely. Face relaxed, every bone in his body shouting how glad he was to be alive, to have a son and a normal job and all the things he'd been told were plebian and ludicrous, growing up.

And now he was all those things, but at what cost? It had been a hard road for him to arrive there and Hermione wasn't sure how much damage he'd sustained. Still, she wasn't without scars, herself. And they were both willing to be friends and learn to love slowly and simply, despite it all. That had to mean something.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked, bringing her out of her reverie. "Where were you?"

"About a decade back," she admitted. "And you're right. He's changed. We both have."

Ginny nodded knowingly. "Of course you have. So, tell me how your last appointment went. I'm sorry I couldn't be there."

Hermione waved her hand, brushing away Ginny's apology and went on to share about her last doctor visit. There was time for revelation and speculation later. Today was for having fun and enjoying a free Saturday at the park, with friends and family.


The aurors assigned to Hooper had an uneventful weekend.


Percy and George did not have an uneventful weekend. The aurors George had hijacked for Percy's case found traces of a delayed-release Confundus Charm in addition to evidence of an Obliviation or two. Neither took it as a good sign, although it eased both of them considerably to know that Percy had not been a complete ass on purpose, this time. They made short work of presenting the information to the minister, too, who took the news very seriously.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Weasley," she said as she looked at Percy. "It appears I owe you an apology."

He waved his hand. "None taken. I was in over my head with the job anyway and I'm more than happy to stay where I am at the moment."

"Still, I'll make sure your record is expunged accordingly.""

George frowned. "He'll have to sit at the trial, however. We'll need his testimony to help make a case against the goblins and whomever was behind it from the inside."

"So you still think one of our own did this?" Melusine asked carefully.

"There's no doubt in my mind, nor in Percy's," George replied. "The aurors are keeping an eye on our main suspect at the moment, in addition to running more tests on the evidence against him."

"Well make sure all this news is on my desk by the time the trial starts, or I can't promise I'll be much help from the bench. And for God's sake, don't tell me anything. I don't want to know until you have enough to put whomever it is away for a very long time."

"It'll be there, trust me," George replied. "We're not going to jeopardize things for our side."

Melusine nodded and then reached over and shook Percy's hand. "Well, Mister Weasley, I hope you'll let me know if you need a job in the near future."

"Thank you, Minister, but that won't be necessary. I've actually decided to stay out of politics for a while, if you can believe," the other red-head responded with a tight smile on his face.

"I believe it," she replied, smiling herself. Then she turned and said her goodbyes to George as well before both men walked from her office.

"Did you mean that?" George asked his brother as they walked. "About leaving politics?"

Percy glanced over at him. "Sure. Why not? You know Hogwarts will need a new Charms professor soon."

George snorted. "You? Teaching Charms?"

"I talked to McGonagall about it already, actually. Looks like I'm in as long as the bugger in there right now keeps doing the job he is."

"Really? Well," George said. "Well. That's quite a departure for you, Perce. I'm happy for you, as long as you think you'll be happy."

"I think I can safely say, George, after the year I've had, that I would be happy mucking stables as long as it kept me out of trouble," Percy replied honestly.

George clapped a hand on his shoulder and smiled broadly. "That can be arranged to, I'm sure, but I'll just wish you luck with Charms and leave it at that."


Hermione awoke on Sunday morning to find Viola tucked into the bed next to her, snuggled against her side and she smiled softly before hugging the small body. Then she promptly began to tickle her. Viola's eyes flew open and then squeezed shut again as she began to shriek with laughter.

"Mummy!" she giggled as she twisted back and forth, trying to escape her mother's grasp. Hermione finally relented and pulled her back into the curve of her body and Viola looked up at her adoringly. "I love you, Mummy," she whispered as her small hands traced their way over Hermione's burgeoning middle. "How long until I get to see them?" she asked, mouth screwed up with curiosity.

"Not for a while, darling," she replied. "Next Spring. When the Tulips are out."

Viola smiled softly in an expression that tugged at Hermione's heart and stared at the bump as she continued to caress it. "Will Daddy be able to see them?" She looked back up at her mother and Hermione's lips curved into a bittersweet smile of her own.

"From where he is, sweetheart," she replied and stroked Viola's hair. Vi nodded again and looked back at Hermione's stomach.

"Hi," she whispered to it. "I'm going to be the best sister in the whole world. Just wait."

Hermione thought she might cry and she was suddenly glad she had her support group that evening. She let Viola pet her stomach a little longer before she swooped in to tickle her again.

"Want to go grocery shopping with me before we go to Grandma Weasley's?"

"Yeah!" The nearly five year old bounced up from the bed and crawled down before running to the bathroom. Hermione laughed and followed her, eager to start the day. She loved the sweet, unexpected moments she was experiencing with her daughter, there was no denying that. Harry's passing had changed their relationship in an undeniable way- in a good way, if it was possible. But it didn't make moments like the one they'd just had any easier to accept. Her heart hurt for her daughter and for the tiny lives inside of her. They would never know Harry the way she wanted them to. All the twins, especially, would have of their father would be pictures and the memories others shared with them. Memories she would share with them.

How would she ever help them know their father the way she wanted? The way he'd wanted? Someday they would be teenagers, and then adults, but they would never be able to talk to their father the way a child learns to when he's grown. They would never benefit from the lessons and advice he could have given them. All those things would have to come from her, now...and maybe their grandparents and Weasley god-parents.

And maybe, if she was very lucky someday, from another man who was as good as Harry had been. She sighed and spread her hand over the rumpled bed sheets. Viola reappeared in the bathroom doorway and stared at her mother, stomping her feet some.

"Mummy! We have to get ready to go."

Hermione looked back up and smiled as brightly as she could. "Is that right? Well, I hope you're ready…to take a shower with the tickle monster!" With a growl she swept across the room towards Vi, her arms outstretched and fingers waving. Viola shrieked again and disappeared back into the bathroom, Hermione following close behind.


Draco watched Hermione carefully from across the room at the support group. The session had broken for a coffee break and the various singles were mingling with one another. Some women were hugging each other; the men sat quietly staring at each other warily, as if to dare the other men to even attempt telling anyone outside the group about their presence.

It was obviously going to be difficult for more than one person to open up about his and her experiences. The whole situation felt awkward and strained, and yet it was nice just to be in the same room with other people who were just as broken and grief-stricken as he was. It was pleasantly uncomfortable, if that was possible. Still, Hermione hadn't spoken a word. She looked very pale and tight-lipped, as if she'd been dragged to the meeting.

Draco knew perfectly well she hadn't been dragged- hadn't they just been talking about it the other day at work? Yet she hadn't spoken two words in the same breath since the meeting had started and he suspected that while she saw the necessity of going, she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it yet- about sharing. Well, he understood that, at least. He walked over to her, his hands in his pockets, and nodded at the door.

"Going to go check on Vi?" he asked. Those who brought children with them could leave them with some nursery workers and volunteers in a room right down the hall from the one they met in. He'd opted to leave Barclay with Ornella for the evening, rather than leave him with some strangers. The boy had been fine for two days, but one never knew…

Hermione looked up at him and finally smiled. "No…she's with Gin and Neville. How about Barclay?" she asked in return as Draco looked at the empty seat next to her and then sat down.

"He's with Ornella."

"Oh," Hermione replied. They both fell to silence and looked about themselves.

"So, you're awfully quiet," he finally said and she looked over at him, almost startled that he'd spoken again.

"I am," she admitted. "I spoke the last time. You should try speaking," she encouraged, turning to face him, looking hopeful.

He shook his head. "Oh, no. No thanks. I- I'm no good at this."

Her mouth cracked into something resembling a smile. "You never were, were you?"

"What?"

"Good at sharing your feelings," she replied. He narrowed his eyes.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

She settled back into her seat without replying and in another moment the leader was calling everyone back to their seats. The woman who'd originally been in Draco's seat looked at him curiously, but moved over a chair without comment. He turned his attention to the next person who began to share and decided that it was enough, for him, just to be sitting next to a- a friend while his heart broke and re-healed all over again, listening to the stories others told. It was enough to forget about the tensions at work and the impending trial and just feel, for a bit.

Hermione snuck a glance at him and smiled a little. His brow was lightly furrowed while he listened and his eyes were suspiciously bright. She very nearly reached over to take his hand, but thought better of it. He was here of his own accord, after all. They were friends, but their healing wouldn't be the same. They were no longer the same, after all.

But it was enough.


AN: Cookie? Pleeeease?