"In the very unlikely event that he is home, YOU WILL BE POLITE," Hermione informed her husband firmly.

"You can see the future now?"

Portia interrupted a potential fight by holding up the album. "Is that Victor Krumm?" she asked innocently, pointing to a photo of Harry and Victor engaged in conversation. On Quidditch, if Hermione recalled correctly.

"I thought you got rid of all your photos of Victor," Ron said quietly.

"Well, I wasn't going to ruin a perfectly good photo of Harry because of your stupid insecurities about my ex-husband," Hermione snapped, leaning over to flip to a less controversial page. She was out of luck, for the next page had a picture of Harry and Hermione kissing on a beach in Majorca.

Portia's eyes widened. "Wow grandma! You got around!"

Hermione laughed, wondering how her own grandmother would have reacted if she had made a comment like that. "Not really darling. I've only had three boyfriends, and I married two of them."

Portia looked like her mother when she was surprised. Hermione sighed sadly. She missed her daughter terribly. Despite her rather promising genes, Nerissa was a squib. Hermione tried her hardest to make her feel accepted, but she had always felt inferior, especially when her younger sisters, Jessica and Ophelia, came along and showed signs of being witches at an unusually young age. As a result, she distanced herself from the family and became contrary and rebellious. One day when she was sixteen, as her family celebrated the arrival of Ophelia's Hogwarts letter, Nerissa climbed out her bedroom window and disappeared. By the time anyone realised she was gone she had a job cleaning toilets on a cruise ship and was halfway to Florida. Ten years later she arrived on Hermione's doorstep with eight-year-old Portia clinging to her arm. Without a word about her absence she asked Hermione to look after her granddaughter for a month, because she was getting married and going on her honeymoon. Six years on, Portia still had an empty suitcase in her bedroom so she could pack quickly when her mother came to collect her.

"Grandma?"

"Sorry dear. I was just thinking."

"I think grandad is having me on. He says he and Harry once fought a troll."

"That's true. They fought a lot of things together."

"Wow." Portia turned the page. It was a collage of Harry with a large number of girls.

Hermione chuckled. "Around fifth year Harry finally realised that since he was rich, famous, athletic and popular girls probably like him. After that divine revelation it was impossible to stop him. From left to right there's Katy, a Hufflepuff, they dated for two weeks. Next there's Katerina, he called her Kitkat. That's Alicia-Mae, she tended to simper. The blonde is Galaxerina, isn't that a terrible name. Ooh, that's Sarra. She and Harry were together six months, his longest relationship. That's Lavender, I shared a dorm room with her. And that sweet little redhead is your great- aunt Virginia, we called her Ginny back then."

Ron grunted, and Hermione laughed. "Your grandfather didn't approve."

"Of course, Harry was far better than what she ended up with." Ron noted, glancing out the coach window at the manor they were approaching. A single figure on a broomstick took off from the roof and zoomed towards the horizon. "He has plans for the afternoon. Big surprise."

"Your grandfather, Harry and I hated your great-uncle Draco. He was a snobbish, prejudiced bully-"

"Much like he is today," Ron interrupted. Hermione squeezed his leg to soothe him. She didn't want he and Virginia to ruin another set of Malfoy heirloom dinner plates with their silly spats over her husband.

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An immaculately dressed girl with bobbed strawberry blonde hair and solemn grey eyes opened the door. She curtsied politely. "Aunt Hermione. Uncle Ron. Portia. Titania."

"Cassandra," Portia replied, just as politely.

They managed to hold the scene for three beats with perfectly straight faces. Then Cassandra's face cracked into a grin. Portia responded likewise and they dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Go on then," Hermione said, stepping behind Cassandra and pushing her out. The three girls ran off into the Weasley-Malfoy manor's extensive snow- coated yard, already making enough noise to drown out a jumbo jet.

"You know they'll be covered in mud within an hour," Virginia said, appearing at the top of the stairs. She descended gracefully and exchanged air kissed with Hermione, before hugging her big brother. "What brings you here?"

"Portia is asking about Harry."

"What have you told her?"

"Just the basics. His parents' death, his life with the Durlseys, stuff like that. Ron told her about the troll."

"That's not surprising," Virginia sighed. "Why does she want to know?"

"History essay."

"Well, you're lucky she actually does them. I was looking through Cassandra's old school things and I discovered that for the last four years she's been digging Draco's old DADA homework out of the attic and handing it in again. With the rapid turnover of DADA professors nobody has ever noticed. I try to punish her, but I swear Draco encourages it."

Hermione smiled. Draco made no secret of the fact that of his six children Cassandra was his favourite. Partly because she was the youngest and partly because she was the only Slytherin Virginia managed to produce. Her four (much) older brothers were Gryffindors and her older sister was a Ravenclaw.

"I made afternoon tea. I know how you refuse to eat it when the house elves help," Virginia said, leading them up the stairs.

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Already in a nostalgic mood, Hermione glanced around the room, noticing for the first time the full extent of the change the Weasley influence had wrought on the old manor. The deep shadows and chilly stone that Hermione had briefly glimpsed when Draco and Virginia were engaged were gone or hidden, replaced by pastel wallpaper and thick carpets. Candid photos crowded the walls, and Cassandra's belongings were strewn everywhere. Draco and Virginia had been together for about 34 years, since their 7th and 6th year respectively, when Draco had been coerced into tutoring her in Potions. His parents had frowned on it at first, but when Arthur Weasley became the Minister of Magic she became socially acceptable overnight (that wasn't an exaggeration. Draco claimed that the day after Mr Weasley was promoted his father owled him his grandmother's engagement ring with a note attached which read 'Marry her. Immediately.' The story may well have been true, for they were engaged a week later and married on Virginia's birthday, the second she was legally old enough.) On their wedding day it was almost possible to hear the cheering of the high society gossips, for it was a relationship ripe with opportunities for innuendoes and implications. It was the union of two of the best known families in the wizarding world, both of which were in danger of dying out. The Malfoys because their once extensive and powerful dynasty had dwindled down to a single heir- Draco. On the other end of the spectrum the Weasley's had incurred rather impressive debts as a result of their lack of lack of heirs (even Arthur's new job couldn't cover the debts caused by school fees, feeding, clothing, hospital bills, repairs to structural damage caused by the twins, etc.) The Malfoys needed heirs and the Weasleys needed money. Of all the families in England, it was an indisputable fact that the Weasleys were the most fertile and the Malfoys were the wealthiest. Nobody had to jump to conclusions- conclusions jumped to them. Everyone assumed the parents had discreetly arranged the match and nobody bothered to correct them. People also assumed, after nineteen years of marriage, once Virginia had provided a satisfactory amount of children and packed the youngest off to Hogwarts they would retire to separate bedrooms, preferably in different manors, quite possibly in different countries. Instead they surprised the world and disturbed their children by having Cassandra, forcing the gossips to admit that maybe, just maybe, they simply /liked/ each other.

"Mum!" Cassandra screamed, tearing up the stairs.

"Wipe your feet!" Virginia yelled back.

"Mum, Portia says you went out with Harry Potter!"

"I did," Virginia replied mildly, picking up her teacup. "As did your aunt Hermione, your Arithmancy professor and our housekeeper."

"But Dad hated Harry Potter!"

"Yes, but I wasn't married to him at the time, so his opinion didn't really count."

"How did you get together?" Portia asked.

"You're not going to put this in your essay, are you?" Virginia asked, blushing slightly.

"No. I'm just interested."

34 years earlier

Ginny meandered around the Burrow, whistling cheerfully. She had a washing basket in her arms and was happily gathering up all the things her boyfriend had left lying around the house when he came to stay for a few days. She found a scarf under a chair, which she added to a pile that already contained a dirty shirt, two CDs, a toothbrush and a nauseatingly cute pink teddy bear. Still whistling, she went out in the garden and dumped his belongings in a heap in the mud. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ron pretending not to watch her and Charlie hanging out of a bedroom window to get a better look. She pulled a cigarette lighter, her favourite of her father's muggle curios, out of her pocket and set fire to the heap. She settled herself comfortably in a garden chair with a book, keeping one eye on the slowly smouldering fire.

"You know, I think he intended to come back for that stuff," Harry said, sitting next to her.

"If he wanted it he should have taken it when he left."

"He was too busy trying to outrun your personal bodyguards."

She smiled. "Being the baby has its advantages."

"You know, I think Ron and Fred broke the English sprinting record when they heard you begin to cry."

"You were right behind them."

"Of course. I'm always happy to do my bit for my favourite Weasley woman."

"Are you sure I'm your favourite? My mother is a much better cook than I am." She kicked the shirt to get it to burn better. "I hope you didn't give him any permanent scars."

"That's a very charitable thought for a jilted woman."

"I was more worried about you getting charged with assault."

"How sweet."

"Well, I'm your favourite Weasley woman and you're my favourite Potter man. I have a right to be concerned about your wellbeing."

"I'm the only Potter man."

"What about Benjamin Potter, first year Hufflepuff?"

"He isn't related to me."

"He's still a Potter."

"Well, he's not a man."

"And you are?"

"Yes, I am!"

"Prove it!" she clapped a hand over her mouth. "No, don't! I didn't mean to say that." She laughed.

Harry laughed too, then without warning kissed her.

She stared at him in surprise. "Why'd you do that?"

"I had to."

"Why?"

"Because I had to kiss you now or we'll never get together."

Present

"How long did it last?" Cassandra asked, enthralled.

"Two weeks and two days."

"What happened?"

"We were incompatible. For a long time after we broke up Harry stayed single. I began seeing Draco shortly after we went back to school, but Harry didn't get a girlfriend until a few months before he graduated."

"Who was that girlfriend?"

"I'll take over," Hermione volunteered.

33 years earlier

Hermione toyed with her food idly, feeling depressed. Involuntarily she glanced down the table at Ron. They'd been sitting apart for weeks, after their break up, and it was painful; considering that for years he'd always been by her side. She should have known that dating a friend was a bad idea. Suddenly, she heard yelling. The Slytherins had insulted the Hufflepuffs, and the Huffs were mad. One of them picked up a plate of mashed potato and hurled it at the offending Slytherin. Within seconds the dining room was a warzone. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs united against Slytherins, Slytherin fought back and the Ravenclaws threw food at each other because they didn't have a problem with any of the other houses but didn't want to miss out on the fun.

Snape jumped to his feet. "STOP AT ONCE!" he roared.

"Oh, have some fun for once Severus," Dumbledore suggested, upending a jug of pumpkin juice on his head.

Thinking quickly, Hermione escaped by lifting up the long tablecloth and sliding under the table. She sat in the darkness, chuckling and listening to the battle above. She jumped when someone whispered "lumos". In the sudden flare of light she saw Harry's pale face and sighed.

"You scared me," she whispered.

"Sorry. They've all gone crazy above." With a sound of disgust he combed some pumpkin out of his hair with his fingers.

"It's the stress getting to them. You've got some sauce on your chin," she reached out and wiped it away with her thumb.

He grinned suddenly. "I suppose it's just a bit of fun."

"Is there someone under there?" a Gryffindor hollered, twitching the tablecloth.

"No!" Harry replied. He grabbed Hermione's hand. "This way."

They crawled the full length of the table. It sagged and groaned alarmingly above them because of people standing on it. When they stopped for breath, Hermione began to laugh uncontrollably.

"You think its funny, do you?" he grinned.

She nodded.

"We'll get found if you don't keep quiet. If I get a bowl of beans in my face I'll blame you." He smiled evilly.

"I know what will shut you up."

He kissed her.

Someone lifted the tablecloth. "A bit of privacy, please, Harry yelled, pulling it back down.

So much for not dating friends.

Present

Virginia found an old trunk in a cupboard. In faded lettering it was marked 'Harry James Potter'. "I kept his stuff in the end," she explained. "All the more appropriate candidates to inherit it were too distraught to go pick it up, and I didn't want it to be forgotten in some storeroom."

Hermione felt her chest tighten as Virginia unlocked the case. Inside were all his clothes, which still held the faintest scent of the deodorant he used. Virginia carelessly tossed aside his clothes, pausing over a pair of black and white satin boxers. "Remember these Hermione?"

"Mum! That's disgusting!" Cassandra shouted.

Virginia put them aside, but for just a second it felt like Ginny was back. "Here's his school books. You can read them if you like Portia. You can't, Cassandra. I don't trust you with other people's school work." Hermione plunged her hands into the trunk. She rummaged around until she found an old cloak. "The invisibility cloak. Remember the time he forgot he was wearing it and went to DADA?"

Ron grinned. "We had a new professor. He thought he was having a schizophrenic episode and booked himself into St Mungos the next morning."

"That shouldn't be rotting in a cupboard. Portia, why don't you take it? It belongs on the back of a Hogwarts student."

Something clunked on the roof.

"Oh god, he's home," Ron said.

"Ron!" Hermione warned.

"I will be polite," Ron recited.

The skylight scraped open and Draco's legs appeared. He leapt nimbly to the floor, and paused when he saw what they were doing.

"The Harry Box," he said.

"Draco, we-" Virginia started. Draco just shrugged and left the room. A minute later they heard his bedroom door slam.