Beta'd by the wonderful AlexandraO (id: 9282786) and Q Elwyn D (id: 12022304). Please go read some of their amazing works.

Hermione sighed heavily. She loved her work. She was changing the world bit by bit, despite the efforts of the bigots and traditionalists. But it could be exhausting sometimes. There were few things in this world more rewarding than seeing her efforts come to fruition. But after a long week of negotiations and arguments, and just plain thick-headed stubborn jackasses, there was nothing she liked more than returning home to her boys and some comfy house clothes.

She wasted no time in zipping to her bedroom and tossing the professional, yet constricting attire she had to wear at the Ministry into the hamper and settling into the freshly laundered tracksuit pants and jumper laid out at the end of her bed. She wasn't sure what her favourite part was. The comfy clothes, or the fact that every Friday afternoon they would be laying there, freshly washed and dried, folded just right, waiting for her. It made her heart swell to know he went out of his way to have them ready for her.

In fact, all that was missing were his firm arms wrapping her up from behind and pulling her into a warm and love-filled hug. Hermione cocked her head slightly as she listened to the house. It sounded as normal, yet there was no obvious trail to follow to find her boys. The house was oddly quiet as she stepped out into the hall. Her first port of call was the little one's bedroom, it wouldn't be the first time they'd been found napping on the little bed when she returned home. But the sheets covered in Care Bears were empty and Hermione frowned again.

She crossed the hall and entered the library. A demand she had insisted on, placing their young one opposite. She had stated that access to books would help him learn and grow. The only response she had received was a warm hug and a knowing smile. The next day the room was ready, and she spent that night tucking their little man into the covers.

And yet, the library too was empty. There was the usual handful of books that hadn't been returned to the shelves left on tables or chairs. Even a few empty glasses, indicating that even Winky was off somewhere for the evening. But that lead to thoughts of poor departed Kreacher. She'd really missed the aged elf since the war and his heroic final charge. She shook her head, her brow furrowed again as she considered the far too large building, they called home. While it wasn't overly wide, it was quite tall. And filled with far too many rooms, most of which stood unused day after day.

Hermione spun on her heel and headed for the stairs. Perhaps they had retreated down, and she'd been so preoccupied that she'd passed them on her way in. She quickly descended the dark stairs; thankful the old decorations were no longer there as she burst into the kitchen and frowned again. Not only empty of people, but there were used dishes sitting on the large table in the middle of the room.

"I sure hope he doesn't think I'm cleaning this mess up." She grumbled to herself as she stepped through the empty kitchen and headed for the basement stairs.

The spiralled stairway swirled around as she stepped lightly out onto the dimly lit concrete floor. Many times, she'd returned home to find him practising spells down here. Apparently, there were runes built into the very foundations that made this the best place in the house to cast without risk of damaging the structure itself. Not that she'd been able to inspect them, obstructed as they were by the very form of the house. And yet, today it was empty but for the busted-up dolls and mannequins, he liked to 'borrow' from landfills or hard waste left on the street on his walks.

Frustration was beginning to surge in Hermione as she was becoming acutely aware of just how big, and just how empty her home was. And she didn't like the idea very much. He never went out on a Friday afternoon. The one time he had, there had been notes left in damn near every room. But today, nothing.

She took the stairs back up at a run, made difficult by the tight spiral of the staircase and without a second glance, shot through the dirty kitchen. Given only the main entry, which bordered the open and empty drawing-room she had hung her outer robes in upon arriving in its large floo, and the kitchen were on the ground floor, she took off back to the main stairs, striding upwards two at a time.

As she arrived on the first-floor landing, she looked up the narrow hallway. Four big rooms filled this floor and most of them were unlikely, but she was becoming distressed at their absence so she would check them all to be sure.

First was to the right, the dining room they never used as they preferred to eat in the kitchen with Winky. She had protested for weeks saying it wasn't proper for masters to eat with the elves, but he would not be deterred. He'd even convinced the elf to join them for their meals instead of keeping her portion aside for eating once her tasks were done. The memory spurred a little happiness back into her soul but the room before her wasn't any less empty now because of it. She quickly strode to the next one down the line, the living room.

He'd spent a fortune overhauling this room, making sure it had all the accoutrements she might miss from true muggle living. It also helped to smooth things over with her folks after Australia when they could sit down to an episode of Robot Wars and hash it all out. The smile that memory brought was bigger than any other so far that evening. Hermione was pretty sure that those hours bonding by the telly watching amateur robots get trashed helped her dad bond with him more than anything she could have suggested.

"Boys!" she huffed, turning from yet another unoccupied room.

Across the hall was the ever-empty sitting room as they would always do their sitting in the library or living room. Hermione felt a grin tugging at her lips as she recalled both of her boys and her father asking why any house needed a living, sitting and family room, and what the difference between them was. Even she was baffled by their all being squeezed onto a single floor of the tall townhouse. Only a quick glance was spared to this one as it sat still unused as the day he'd finished the renovations on it. Traipsing back down the hallway, Hermione found herself smiling at the memories they had made in the past few years in this room, the family room.

It was where the tree would be placed during the Christmas holidays, the three stockings hung over the much smaller fireplace than was found in any of the much bigger rooms. She loved the family room because being in there meant they were doing something special. Be it a holiday, birthday, or some other celebration only held between themselves. The living room or drawing room tended to host the bigger gathering's or the large dining room once more behind her when the full family gathered. The only other room big enough to hold their extended family was the library, and no one was foolish enough to suggest a rowdy gathering take place in that room in front of her.

But once again, her temporary smile drawn from fond memories disappeared when she noted that there were no humans tucked in here either. A growl of frustration, fuelled both by the day she'd had at work, and the inadvertent game of hide and seek she was being subjected to sent her agitation ever higher.

Hermione stomped noisily up the stairs, bypassing their bedroom floor and heading up another two flights to the full floor taken up by the attic. This was the one room in the house that she allowed him to indulge in his desire for a bit of chaos. Most of the remainder of the house was neat and tidy, organized as she preferred. Not that he wanted to be messy. Of their friends and family, he was probably the neatest after herself.

But boxes and trunks of varying sizes and shapes spread over the entire floor. Some low and stacked upon one another, others almost reaching the roof. Ones she was certain would never have made it inside if not for magic, and others so small and delicate that they were kept out of reach of small young hands until they were old enough to understand breakable is bad. Here was the only sign of someone living having been through in hours, a gathering of supplies for painting and crafting spread over several of the small boxes near the entrance. But all the supplies had been sealed and while not put away, were clearly not currently being used.

Hermione stepped inside and gave the floor a once over regardless. Now frustrated beyond belief at the wild wizard chase she found herself a very unwilling participant of. Unable to resist in her agitated state, she found herself neatening up the supplies and nearby boxes before she gave up on finding them in the attic and descended once more to the two floors of bedrooms and bathrooms reserved for guests. These did not take long to clear, as she glanced quickly into each room one after the other before returning to the master bedroom. She'd gone from top to bottom and back again, and there was no sign of her boys.

Standing by her bed, Hermione huffed as she wondered where the pair could be hiding. And in her forced silence, she finally heard it. The light, yet throaty breathing coming from the bed. She turned in confusion and looked at the covers. And noticed a curve in the surface she hadn't seen before. Realization dawned as she figured out what had happened and kicked herself mentally for her idiocy. She drew her wand and silently, and carefully, lifted the ancient cloak off her boys. There lay Harry, head lolled back on the pillows, with Teddy stretched out on his chest, causing Harry's position which led to the noisier than normal breathing.

Her heart swelled as she saw them laid out there together. Her boys. The truest loves of her life. Ever since he'd taken in Teddy full time, Harry had been the most perfect father. He had foregone the option of working to instead stay home and be the father he had longed for as a child. And while he still made sure to give Teddy his space, the boy loved him to the ends of the earth for it.

As Hermione drew closer, she noted something clutched in Teddy's little fist. Something fabric that went down beside and then under Harry's back. Trying not to wake either of the boys, she gently peeled the fabric out from under Harry. When she unfurled it, her breath caught. It was clearly what they had been working on in the attic, something the boys must have spent hours working on together. Something that reminded her of the biggest factor she had forgotten about today.

Happy . . Birthday, Mumione

Her smile grew even wider as she looked at the homemade shirt. The silvery otter swirling on the front, weaving between the letters almost made her giggle. Swinging the shirt about, she noted the wolf, grim and stag gathered on the back, all in the same silvery colouring as the otter from the front. They stood proudly beneath the text proclaiming her the World's Greatest Mum. As she twirled the shirt back to the front, the letters flickered for a moment, now showing:

Happy Unbirthday, Mumione

Hermione couldn't stifle the gentle chuckle in her chest at the reference to Harry's favourite book. She glanced back up and her eyes met Harry's now open ones, happy tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. This was exactly what she'd needed after that day at work.

Being careful not to wake the boy clutched in his firm hold, Harry curled one finger in a come-hither motion, and Hermione delicately climbed onto the covers, still holding her gift as she snuggled into the pair, Harry whispered in her ear, "Happy birthday my love," as his arm settled around her back and filled her with warmth.

A soft kiss to her forehead and the three soon fell back to sleep, never happier than they were right at that moment.