A/N: Enjoy! And let me know what you thought :)

Chapter 30: Hermione

Friday, 27 February 2026

Days had rushed by, and Hermione had barely noticed that winter was slowly coming to its end. She hadn't been herself lately, and had resembled more like a machine than anything else. She did her job and she spent time with her son, asked about his sessions, and occasionally saw her daughter, but that was it. She hadn't really done anything else.

And deep down, Hermione had known it to be true – that she was functioning without much of self-awareness – but had actually realised it when Rose had come to see her earlier that week, on Tuesday afternoon. Hugo had been away, spending his day at St Mungo's, where he had first met Healer Hunt and then Olivia.

"What's going on, Mum?" Rose inquired as they sat down on the sofa in the sitting room, both of them placing their steaming cups of tea on the coffee table.

Hermione raised her brows in question at her daughter.

Rose sighed and gave her a pointed look. "You're been closed off since the – you know – incident," she said with a mild grimace, as Hermione looked down, "and Hugo says you're here every day, but at the same time, you're not very…present."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Not present?" She huffed. Hugo was one to talk. If someone hadn't been present for the past six or more months, it was him. Not her.

Rose looked slightly uncomfortable. "You're spending a lot of time in your room? You quit your Pilates? You stopped seeing any of your work colleagues?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her daughter. The thing was, that she was tired. Too tired to exercise. Too tired to see her colleagues, since many of them were friends with Bruce, and she didn't have enough strength in her to talk about the situation with them. She was tired, because she was either worrying over her son – who was recovering from addiction – or going over every word exchanged between her and Harry, or her and Ginny. She was tired, because she had lost two of her best friends, and she didn't know if her relationship with either of them could ever return to the way it had once been.

"…I'm just worried, Mum. We both are. Me and Hugo." Rose said quietly.

Hermione gave her daughter a gratified smile and shook her head slightly. "I appreciate it, Rose, I really do," she said and chewed the inside of her cheek before she continued, "but…you don't have to be. I'll be all right. I'm just going through something that will take some retrospection before I can focus on other things…"

"What about Bruce?" Rose asked then, watching her closely.

Hermione arched a brow at her. "What about him?"

Rose shrugged. "Why'd you stop seeing him?"

"Rose…" Hermione said with a sigh, her eyes moving over the coffee table.

She had ended things with Bruce because of Hugo, because she didn't want to keep lying to Bruce. However, Hermione knew that even if there wouldn't have been the situation with Hugo, the fact still remained that he was a muggle and she was a witch. She could try to live a muggle life, but she now knew that she couldn't completely shut herself off from the wizarding world. It was easier to let him go, than to face the possibility of Bruce not accepting her for who she was.

Rose seemed to guess her line of thought. "So – because Bruce is a muggle?" Rose asked warily.

"It just – it wasn't going to work," Hermione said heavily and gave Rose a stiff smile.

Rose huffed. "But that's bollocks, Mum!" she said in exasperation. "You obviously liked each other and you didn't even give him a chance to really know you!"

Hermione gave her daughter a sharp look. "That's quite enough, Rose." She eyed her closely before continuing. "Why are you asking about Bruce?"

Now it was Rose who chewed the corner of her lips and looked away, seeming bothered about something. "Dunno. Maybe… maybe because Nick and I broke up – if we even were a couple in the first place," she said with a hint of bitterness in her voice before turning back to Hermione, lifting her chin up a bit. "…and even though I kinda knew in the beginning that it wouldn't last, and I feel like crap right now, I'm still glad I gave it a go."

"Oh, Rose," Hermione said quietly, reaching out to grasp her daughter's hand. "What happened?"

Rose let out a weary sigh and shook her head, her gaze trained away from Hermione even though she squeezed her hand back. And now that Hermione took a good look at her daughter, she realised that Rose looked quite dejected – something she had evidently tried to hide before that moment. There was a far-away look in Rose's eyes, the brilliance and sparkle in them long gone. Hermione felt bad for her daughter, but at the same time, she was somewhat astonished that Rose seemed so… calm and collected – nothing like she had been after her break up with Scorpius.

"Who knows." Rose finally huffed with a small voice. "We wanted different things."

"Come here, love," Hermione said as she saw Rose's eyes glittering with unshed tears, pulling her into a warm embrace.

She felt Rose sniffling against her shoulder as she consoled her daughter and smoothed down a hand over her bushy hair. "I'm sorry it didn't work out with him," Hermione murmured, wondering if the two had ended things in a more sensible manner than how she assumed Rose and Scorpius had.

"When did this happen?" Hermione asked carefully after they had pulled apart and had sipped tea from their cups in silence.

Rose played with the handle of her cup, running a finger over the curve, her eyes following the movement. "A week ago," she said heavily and glanced at Hermione, "We talked it through last week, but I kinda figured it out way before that…"

"I'm sorry, Rose."

Rose gave her a mildly exasperated look. "I know, Mum. You said it already," she muttered and then looked a bit apologetic. "But why I told you this in the first place was because of you and Bruce."

Hermione felt slightly hurt as she thought about her daughter's words. That Rose wouldn't have confided in her, had Hermione's love life been all sorted out. Still, she gave Rose an inquiring look and put her empty tea cup back on the table.

"What if he'd be okay with it? The whole – you know – witch thing?" Rose asked tentatively. "What if he wouldn't mind that your son is a recovering potions addict? That you are recognised in every wizarding area you go? That half of your family can be very tiring," She said with a mild grimace, "but also… welcoming?"

Hermione blinked at her daughter, somewhat taken aback by her insightfulness. She opened her mouth to argue, but then her thoughts flickered to Bruce. She wondered, how he would take it. It seemed that he wasn't easily shook by anything. He had seen and heard many things in his life. But this – magic – it was something else entirely. Still, she didn't know the answer to Rose's question. He might be okay with it. He might not be. Would she be alright with losing him if he wasn't?

Hermione sighed. "Can we talk about something else?" She asked weakly from her daughter, who seemed a bit disappointed, but nodded eventually.

"Has Hugo talked to you about Olivia?" Hermione asked, a frown of worry furrowing her brows.

Rose grimaced. "Uh. Yeah." She said quietly, her shoulders sagging. "I think… I think he might have fallen for her…"

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, disappointment and apprehension filling her chest. She had known it, deep down, from the way he was acting, and the way he talked about her. He was always excited to see her, and when he couldn't, he was anxious and moody.

And even though they didn't know all the details about her condition, they were aware that she had a terminal illness. Something that would eventually take her life.

What worried Hermione, and presumably Rose as well, was how deeply it would affect Hugo?

Hermione sighed and opened the door to the Pilates Studio close to her home, not having the motivation to work out, but still forcing herself to do something else than to stare at the walls of her sitting room.

She took a place from the back corner of the room and placed her mat down. A young, ginger-haired girl sat down on her right, and Hermione was instantly reminded of Ginny and the times they had been at the class together.

The instructor started the class, and while Hermione performed all the move sets, her mind wasn't really in it. Instead, she thought about her friends, and what had happened after that night: when Hermione and Harry had stood in the kitchen of the Potter home in Winkfield, and when Ginny – after hearing what they had to say – had gone to pack her bags and leave her home.

Harry had been a mess afterwards. He had wanted to go after Ginny – even though he didn't know where exactly she had apparated to. After Hermione had told him for the third time that Ginny most likely needed some time to calm down a bit, Harry had agreed not to go searching for her that night. Eventually, Hermione had gone back to her home, had marched straight into her room to avoid Hugo's inquiring looks and to prevent him to see the shame in her eyes. The next evening, Hermione had learned from Hugo that Ginny was staying with Ronald. Something that made her half expect her ex to accost her and yell at her for ruining his sister's life.

Ronald never came. But Harry did.

A couple of days after the incident at Winkfield, Harry had come to see her, to talk with her.

"Harry!" Hermione said in surprise as she opened the front door.

Harry had come unannounced, knocking her door. Something he hadn't really done before, as he usually simply texted her and apparated straight into her home.

Harry gave her a tense smile, shifting on his feet. "Hey, Mione." He muttered. "Um. Can we talk?"

Hermione blinked, but then moved to the side to give him room to step inside. They stared at each other in the dimly lit hallway, before Hermione remembered herself, cleared her throat and gestured towards the sitting room. "Tea?"

Harry followed her further into the house and shook his head while rubbing his neck. "No thanks." He murmured, and sat down on the edge of the sofa, looking around them. "Is – er – is Hugo home?" He asked hesitantly, not really looking at Hermione in the eyes as he spoke to her.

"He's at the hospital. He'll be home later." Hermione said simply, wondering what was going on in her friend's head. Wondering, if he had talked to his wife – if he knew that she was staying at Ronald's.

"Gin's staying with Ron." Harry stated and jumped up from the sofa, opting to pace in front of the telly, a deep frown between his brows.

Hermione took in a calming breath. "I know. Hugo told me."

Harry stilled and gazed at her, a mild surprise in his expression. "Oh." He muttered and looked away, continuing to move in front of Hermione and scratching his beard in thought.

There was a long silence, before Harry spoke again. "I don't know what to think anymore." He said finally, stopping in place and turning to Hermione with a helpless look. "I'm sorry. For what I did. It's my fault. I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I should've just – " He let out a huff of frustration and trailed a hand through his hair, his gaze moving to the floor. "I should've just – buried it."

Hermione watched him carefully, but kept silent, as it seemed that Harry had more to say.

He clenched his jaw and shook his head at the coffee table. "I love her. Ginny," he murmured. "And – and seeing how… how hurt she was by it. By me. I just –" He swallowed hard. "I just don't want to lose her…" he said thickly.

Hermione waited until he glanced at her again. She gave him a reassuring nod. "I understand."

Harry's face scrunched up slightly. There was confliction in his eyes. "…But I also think about you, Mione."

Hermione swallowed deeply. Harry had always been important to her. He had always been there for her, even when there hadn't been anyone else. And she had always loved him. But she had never thought about how she loved him. And she knew that even though there could be more than friendship between them, it didn't mean that there should be.

"Can I ask…" Hermione started a bit unsurely. Harry nodded, and then moved to sit down next to her, his attention at her.

She gave him a hesitant look. "Why now?" She asked, and cleared her throat. "It shouldn't happen just because it's convenient, right?"

Harry frowned, and looked between them on the sofa.

"If it is meant to be – if we are – don't you think it would've already happened?" She asked carefully, her eyes moving over his face.

Harry sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know, Hermione…" He was silent for a moment and watched her closely. "I just don't want to lose you."

Hermione took his hand between hers and squeezed it. "You're not going to lose me. I'm never not going to be your friend, Harry, whatever happens." She said and gave him a meaningful look, steeling herself for what had to be said. "I just don't see us together romantically."

It was the truth. She had tried to picture them, together, after Harry had kissed her and told her that he had feelings for her. She had tried to picture a future with Harry. She had tried to think what it would be like to live with him, to wake up next to him every morning. To be intimate with him. And even if the kiss they had shared had roused something inside her – a curiosity, a thrill – she hadn't been able to picture anything else.

Harry studied her features, disappointment flickering into his expression at her words. He pulled away his hand and looked away from her. He nodded a couple of times, but remained silent. She wondered, if he had thought about them in ways that she hadn't been able to. She wondered, if that meant he couldn't think of her like he had before. When they had been best friends.

"Harry…?" Hermione whispered, watching him with a concerned look.

Harry stood up stiffly, not looking at her. "I think we shouldn't see each other for a while." He murmured, frowning at the coffee table. "I don't want to lose you, and whatever I feel, I… I know you're right. Still –" he took in a deep breath and looked at her with an apologetic smile. "I don't think I can be your friend right now."

Hermione had been hurt by his words, but at the same time, she had tried to understand him and what he was going through. She knew it was best that they wouldn't be seeing each other for a while. She also knew that what had happened, and what they both felt, would need to be discussed more thoroughly in the future. Perhaps, after the dust had settled.

Harry had left back to Winkfield and Hermione hadn't seen him since. She had been glad to hear that Ginny had moved back to her home after a week and a half at her brother's place. Hermione had also been relieved at Ronald's absence, as it meant that he most likely hadn't been told about the incident. Hermione could only appreciate Ginny's decision.

The class ended, and Hermione gathered her things, her thoughts lingering on the previous Monday night, when Ginny had come to see her. As she walked back home, she thought about how nervous she had been after Sunday night the previous week, when she had received the text message from Ginny, asking if she could stop by on Monday evening. Hermione had naturally replied to her in an instant, agreeing without hesitation.

Ginny's visit had been short. She hadn't stepped inside Hermione's home like Harry had, and had politely declined Hermione's invitation. Instead, Ginny had stayed at the door, a resolute expression on place. She had told Hermione, that she had moved back home. She had told her that she wouldn't be in a relationship in which her partner loved someone else. When Hermione had assured her that she would never be anything but Harry's friend, and that she wanted nothing more than for things to go back to how they were, Ginny had nodded and said that she wanted the same thing. But she had also said that she wasn't sure that things could go back to how they were.

Ginny had told Hermione, that she wanted to be Hermione's friend again, but first, she needed to figure things out with Harry. She had said that she couldn't be in a relationship or in a friendship in which she would have to doubt the other, in which she would have to constantly look over her shoulder.

And even though Hermione was glad that Ginny wanted to correct things with Harry and with Hermione, it still felt like Ginny and Harry both had turned their backs on her.

After Ginny had left, Hermione had stood at the open doorway in the darkness for a long moment, with cold air blowing against her face, brutally reminding her that she was now friendless and alone. She had cried silently, staring at the empty front yard while feelings of shame and unfairness and longing had coursed inside her. It wasn't until Hugo had taken a hold of her arm, when she had realised that her son had been saying her name, his voice filled with worry. Evidently aware of what had been discussed between Hermione and Ginny.

It was getting dark when Hermione finally reached her front yard after the walk from the Pilates Studio, her mind still occupied by her best friends and the unfortunate situation they were now in. She didn't notice at first that someone was standing there, next to her front door. Someone she hadn't seen in a while.

"Bruce!" Hermione breathed, staring at the man in surprise.

Her bag slipped off from her shoulder, and she grasped it before it fell to the ground. "What – um – what are you doing here?" She asked, aiming for a friendly tone, while still blinking at the man.

His beard was trimmed and his hair had been cut a bit shorter than it had been in the beginning of January. He also had black, rectangular glasses perched on his nose, which Hermione hadn't seen before. They made him look a bit younger than he really was. And very handsome, Hermione's brain added, quite unnecessarily.

Bruce gave her a small smile, his eyes moving over her frame. "Hi." He said, his expression becoming a bit sheepish. "I, uh… thought you wanted to see me?"

As Hermione frowned at him, bewildered and pleased to see him, Bruce continued, realisation flickering into his eyes, "Ah. So it wasn't you who sent me a text to meet you here?" He asked with a low and steady voice, looking both amused and disappointed.

Hermione walked closer to him and managed to pull out her phone from her bag. After quickly searching through her messages – which included one of hers to Bruce and his reply, neither of which she had seen before – she let out an exasperated huff, realising that her children had most likely organised this meeting behind her back. Nevertheless, she couldn't deny that seeing Bruce didn't make her feel light and warm again.

"Rose and Hugo, most likely. I'm sorry." Hermione muttered with an apologising look.

It started to rain lightly. They both moved under the overhanging ledge.

Bruce gave her a smile that was both sad and strained, before he nodded. "Not to worry. I should – uh – go," he said and glanced at the sky. It was raining a little more heavily.

Hermione shivered, unsure if it was because of the cold wind and drizzling water, or because of the look in Bruce's eyes as he moved his gaze back to her again.

"It was good to see you, Hermione." He murmured softly, before walking into the rain, towards the street where his car was parked.

Hermione watched him leave, knowing that she didn't want him to go. That she wanted to talk to him, wanted to be close to him again. She also knew that if she let him close to her again, she couldn't continue lying to him. She would have to tell him the truth.

After having a quick argument within her mind, she spoke. "Wait!"

Bruce stilled, at the end of her front yard, and turned to her. "Yes?" He asked, grimacing as water poured down, drenching him completely.

Hermione's shoulders drooped down as she let out a long breath, and she gave him a hesitant smile. "Would you – would you like to come inside?" She asked carefully, eyeing his reaction closely.

Bruce smiled widely at her. "I'd love that."