Disclosure Hp belongs to Jkr. The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux

A/n I changed the original some to answer some leftover questions.

The past and Love promises

Tonight, Gabrielle was looking fine and nearly sitting on Harry's lap. That was all that Hermione could see. It was good nobody saw her eyes fixed on Harry.

Marcus had been invited tonight. He kept pushing Adrian into a triad. Though, Adrian said it wasn't up to him and not for a while in any case. They were both watchers and had a few stints together.

Arthur was eating a na-choe or whatever this Muggle thing was, delicious. While he enjoyed the show, at least four pairs of wizards' eyes observing certain witch's every step.

Bill, to Arthur's delight, was animatedly talking to Hermione's American cousin. Strangely, she was also a Muggle-born witch.

The cousins looked into their family tree and found that their great-grandparents were possible suspects, probably squibs. But that was still to be verified. The cousin, Margot, was from Louisiana, a beautiful exotic witch. She had a young daughter, Mariella. She was at the grandparent's house; her dead husband's family was from London, a Half-Blood. Arthur was sorry for eavesdropping. However, what he heard thus far, and a glance at Bill's happy visage, made his heart hopeful for his embittered son.

Margot had gone to Beauxbatons for one year, where she had met her future husband, through his French cousin, Aricel. Unfortunately, her parents did not want her to stay abroad. And the rest of her education had been completed at the private witches' boarding school in New England, near Salem.

Margot had brought Aricel, her French friend. She joked that Aricel had Hermione's hair, but ginger-colored. Though Hermione did a double-take when she met Aricel earlier. Aricel was French and magical, but no, that wasn't it; Aricel reminded Hermione of a very disagreeable person but in a much nicer version. Others would make the same remark, but they also said she could be a Weasley.

Arthur hopes increased by the minute after he saw Bill sniffing the air every time Margot turned around. Later, Bill picked up a scarf she dropped. Bill had brought it up to his face and inhaled its fragrance.

Oh, yes, something was going on. Bill looked better than he had in a long time. His eyes were shining, and his face, well, Bill was clearly aroused.

Good for Bill, looking at his son, made Arthur wish to clap his hands in pure joy. He had seen Bill crying when he thought his father wasn't looking, and seeing him so alive filled him with happiness.

Arthur looked in Fleur's direction; the blond witch behaved childish, giving Margot dirty looks, making not-so-hushed derisive comments about the other witch to Ron.

Ron finally stood up to get another drink, looking mortified and a bit angry. Arthur smiled when he saw Ron drinking two straight shots of clear liquor and then making a strong drink mixed with water and ice.

Arthur looked all around; he was betting on Margot over an angry Veela. The gods did not punish with a strap or a paddle; they had more subtle ways to do so. Even better, Bill had stretched his arm behind her, and his fingers surreptitiously touched her hair. Margot followed the lead, leaned back, pressing her head unto his arm, "Oh, excuse me," she told Bill.

"Don't move on my behalf, glad to be your headrest," and they laughed flirtatiously as his fingers continued caressing her hair.

Fleur harrumphed loudly and poured herself a large drink from the pitcher of the lemony flavored drink.

Bill's attention was diverted to someone he hadn't seen before. He felt strange for a minute; Bill was looking at a Weasley, ginger hair with dark eyes and wild hair like Hermione's, or like, he couldn't say it, like Bella's. She was whispering something to the American witch, and both laughed.

When Margot's friend smiled, Bill saw Bella clearly, and his heart nearly stopped. Who was she? Could it be? He was acting silly, he was sure; or was he? Bill made a mental note to find out.

Then Aricel went back to sit by Marcus, who sat closer. He wanted a triad with Adrian, but this witch made him wonder if he wanted something else.

Arthur heard a whisper, "Look at one of the guests, carefully, my love." He thought he had imagined until the moment he saw Bill staring at a witch sitting by Marcus Flint and wondered. No, he dismissed it, it couldn't be.

Arthur's attention changed to the birthday witch. Six children chased her Hermione, a Native American squad. She wore a red suede tunic embroidered by Native Americans, a pair of leggings, and a headband with a feather. She also wore several silver turquoise jewelry pieces, picked by the children during the trip.

The children, all dressed in western clothes, were cowboys and cowgirls trying to bring Hermione down. She bought them complete outfits with small hats and boots during their visit to Texas, to her cousin's home. The dogs and one Kneazle had joined the fun. She was the only one who was not in period costume. She'd wanted to be one with the children; albeit her tunic didn't look too different from the smocks worn by the other women.

Hermione was now on the ground rolling with laughter, while the little monsters were doing their best to tie her down. Until Lily started crying, "Bad boys, don't hurt mommy. I don't want to be a cow anymore."

"Dummy, not a cow, a cowgirl," Teddy banged her with the soft tomahawk that Mommy bought him during the trip. Victoire came and smacked Teddy with her hand. His hair turned blood red, and then black with red streaks, in anger and shame.

"You bully, come, sweetie," Victoire said, trying to pick up the chubby three-year-old toddler while adult peals of laughter filled the room. Victoire's blond hair was flying away, a sign of her anger. She had a fiery temper. Creevy and Adrian, who loved to take photographs of Hermione, fired away.

Each of four wizards, one of them married, longed for the fallen squaw, and Arthur was sorry to see it in their eyes. He knew the truth, Harry could have had her, but his time had passed. It was 100% his fault, and perhaps Ginny's.

Ron had his chance and blew it with his infidelity; even if he was single, he would never have another chance.

Charlie, who was too shy, would never have pursued her; and now he was engaged to a very pregnant witch, Daphne Greengrass, Adrian's good friend. The young witch was in love with his son, and Arthur had asked him to marry her; Charlie still wasn't sure. "Son, I know your heart longs for another, but you waited too long. Daphne loves you, be happy, and marry her."

That left Adrian, a handsome lad. He waited for Hermione for a while, and Arthur hoped for them to have a good marriage. Hermione needed to think about her future. Adrian looked quite sad, and his eyes appeared worried; Arthur wondered what was going on. Hermione had already given too much, and it was time she thought about her happiness.

Hermione's fiancé fit into their family circle; they all liked him; and the children adored him; predictable Lily called him, other-daddy.

His parents often came along, always complimenting the home and repeating how lucky Adrian was. Of course, grandchildren and a wedding to rival Harry's, and the planned for the Malfoy's heir, was their ultimate goal. They couldn't wait, and neither could Jean.

Arthur looked again and stood up, approaching the French witch.

Suddenly, he knew it, she was his child. When she lifted her eyes and smiled, he knew it for sure. He stretched his hand to greet her.

"Allo," she smiled shyly. Her heart was about to explode. It was him; she knew it. She couldn't believe it. Her mother, the dead one, the one she never saw clearly, came to her and told her to accept Margo's invitation.

"Excuse me," he held on to her hand," what is your name?"

They walked to the side. Marcus was angry; maybe she liked older wizards. It seemed she looked enthralled.

"I don't want to be rude, but who are your parents?"

"Ah, my mother is a distant relation of the Blacks; my father is a banker, working for the Malfoy. Though I never met them, my father's wishes. I was adopted; my mother says it is better if I didn't find out. She didn't want me to come to England." She liked Arthur holding her hand. Nobody could see it.

"How old are you?" Arthur asked.

"I am 26. I was born in 1978 in France." She looked at him, and Arthur wanted to hug her. His child, he had found her.

"Could we talk later this week?" Arthur asked.

She looked upset," I will be gone for a few days. I am interviewing for a job. I would be around here. Could I see you next Wednesday?"

Arthur was a little disappointed," As soon as you can, I to talk to you."

"I also have an important question. You know who I am, right?"

When she looked at him just like so, he saw Bella." I do. I do, please know I loved her; but I didn't have the bride price."

"Who was my mother? Is she alive?" Aricel asked, hoping to find out, once and for all.

Her hair changed slightly, only for Arthur to notice. He understood; she thought Andy was her mother," I see. We will talk, though I didn't know, I hoped our child was alive. But, you should it wasn't Andromeda. I wish I could give you a giant hug now, but it will be soon."

She nodded, wishing for the same." I was told to be here by a ghostly voice. Until Wednesday, I cannot wait..." They made immediate plans. Arthur failed to see two of his sons staring.

She went back, looking very happy when she sat back by Marcus; who felt his future looked bright when she smiled at him.

Arthur and Jean.

Arthur had been pining away for Jean Granger. A fact that was evident to everyone but to him. He couldn't even go past her, and a well-known stirring would hit him right below the belt. After seeing his daughter, he had high hopes, maybe this was a perfect night. Perhaps, one could hope. He should have remembered his younger son, who was a bit selfish and spoiled; and always wanting what wasn't his.

A/n