After lunch, Hermione and Luna visit Teddy at Andromeda's. Luna's eager to show him some of the drawings she sketched during her travels, and Hermione's been missing him. As someone who has never been overly concerned about if or when she'll have children, she's still occasionally bemused at how thoroughly he's worked his way into her heart.
He's thrilled to see them, telling Hermione all about everything he's been doing over his week with his grandmother and asking whether she's heard anything from Harry.
'Not yet,' she replies, 'but that's a good thing. It means the mission's going to plan.'
Fortunately, he nods and accepts the old adage of no news being good news. They try to shield him from the realities of life as an Auror to keep him from worrying, but he knows it has its dangers.
Instead, he looks between Hermione and Luna with wide eyes. 'There are fairies in the garden. I haven't seen one yet, but there are lots of footprints.'
Luna beams. 'Oh, how exciting! Can you show me?'
He takes her hand and leads her outside while Hermione turns to Andromeda, who's smiling wryly. 'I found them a few weeks ago. They're annoying little pests, but I knew he'd want to see them.'
Before long, all four of them are scouring the garden for signs of the winged creatures. The sky is overcast, but it's a temperate day, and they spend a good few hours enjoying the fresh air and sprawling greenery.
Together, Luna and Teddy are a nightmare of creativity and bad ideas. Anything one of them suggests, barring the truly hazardous, the other not only agrees to but extends on. It's like the most chaotic, and most enjoyable, improvised skit Hermione has ever seen.
They stay outside until the sun goes down, the soft yellows and oranges fading into navy and black as the night-time chill sets in.
Andromeda invites them to stay for dinner, and as they're finishing their meal, she says, 'The Community Forum is coming up soon, isn't it? Are you going again this year?'
Teddy frowns. 'What's a four-umm?'
'It's a place where people come together to talk through big issues that are important to all of them,' Andromeda explains.
'Oh. Like when Auntie Fleur said Victoire and I need to play with Niquie more and we talked about some games she could play too?'
Hermione laughs. 'Yes, kind of like that, except bigger. Except for the Ministry, it's more of a PR stunt than a forum.' The Ministry's employees have a lot of different names for it, none of them flattering. 'But yes, Andromeda, I'll be there. Officially, attendance is voluntary, but unofficially, people who don't go are seen as not being team players.'
Although the Ministry markets it as a way for members of the community to express their opinions, it's more of a way to keep them onside. The higher-ups are painfully aware of how unpopular their decisions were during the war and are hoping to cover themselves by giving the people a time to feel heard, even if they never actually listen to them.
In the past, Hermione and Harry, along with Ron as Hermione's date, have spent most of the forum run-time trying to balance listening to genuine suggestions with avoiding people who are there to gawk at them.
It feels like her body goes cold. This is the first year Ron will be invited as a Ministry worker rather than as her plus one, and it's the first year she'll have the chance to ask Fred to accompany her.
More than anything, she wants him there. She's ready for people to know about their relationship — to be able to talk to her coworkers about her life without talking around someone who is rapidly becoming a big part of it. And if there's anyone who can liven things up amidst the dreary pointlessness of the event, it's him.
But if Hermione wants to go with Fred, they'll have to tell Ron first. They owe him that much.
The thought sickens her, but they've waited long enough. He has to find out someday, and at this point, putting it off further will only make it harder for all of them.
Glancing around the table, she's relieved that nobody seems to have noticed her change of mood. Recovering, she takes another bite of her dinner.