Rose had been relieved when she came home from her night at the Burrow and found her dad sitting in his chair, stuffing his face with a breakfast muffin. She'd hoped whatever it was that her parents had fought about had blown over, but after a few days, it was apparent that something still wasn't right. They'd been acting as though everything was normal, but Rose knew better.
She knew her dad was sleeping in the spare bedroom, waking up early and going to bed late so she and Hugo wouldn't notice. Her mum seemed to be walking on eggshells and bend over backwards to please him, almost embarrassingly so. Her behavior was so strange it made Rose wonder how bad what she had done was, and one morning, Rose got a small hint as to what was going on between Ron and Hermione. From the top of the stairs she'd overheard the tail end of a private discussion between her parents.
"You want to go?" She heard her mum say from the kitchen.
"No, I don't want to go," Ron answered with annoyance. "But how would it look to the kids if we missed Harry's fortieth birthday?"
"I'm not going if you're going to spend the entire time shooting glares at him."
"I'll just stay away from him then," Ron huffed stubbornly.
"It's his birthday and you're his best friend, don't you think it would look stranger to everyone if you spent the entire night avoiding him rather than us just not going?" Hermione reasoned logically.
"There will be so many bloody people there," Ron replied. "No one will even notice. Besides, mum's been on my case about us going. I told her we'd be there."
Rose heard her mum groan loudly in resignation.
"I'll only go if you promise not to start anything," she said sternly. It was the first time Rose had heard her mum sound remotely like herself in days.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Ron snarked, catching Rose off guard. "I didn't realize I was the bad guy in this situation."
"That's not what I'm saying." Hermione sighed, and then softly added, "Ron, I don't want to fight."
"I get it," Ron muttered. "I'll be on my best behavior."
"We can talk more about this later," Hermione said, and Rose heard the sound of her footsteps. "I've got to run."
Rose left her spot atop of the stairs, and slowly made her way down the hall to the bathroom to brush her teeth. What could possibly have her dad so mad at her Uncle Harry, Rose wondered, and how did it involve her mum?
It was odd. Rose couldn't remember a time that her dad and Uncle Harry had ever been remotely peeved at one another, and now they weren't even speaking? Was her dad angry because her mum had taken Harry's side? Was it something to do with Ministry? Perhaps a dangerous mission? Could it be that whatever her dad was mad about was also the same thing that had troubled her mum a few weeks ago?
Whatever was going on, Rose was determined to find out.
...
Hermione really didn't want to go to the party. She was mentally drained from many long and restless nights. All week she and Ron had been having long talks before bed after the kids had gone to sleep. She'd told him everything she knew, everything that Harry had shared with her about her missing memories. When the subject of whether to tell the kids had come up, he'd agreed with Ginny. He didn't want to tell Rose and Hugo unless they absolutely had to, and Hermione had been relieved. She could hardly handle what was presently going on. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to involve the kids.
Over the few days after Ron had come home, things between them had started to improve. He'd apologized for what he'd said to her, swearing he didn't mean any of it. Hermione had promised him that nothing else had happened that he didn't now know about. Again, she reiterated that she had no memories of the night she'd spent with Harry.
With their relationship on the mend, Hermione had been worried that attending Harry's birthday would only reignite Ron's rage, but she knew they had to go. Harry was their best friend and it would only cause speculation if they missed a milestone.
Hermione apparated to the Burrow front yard with Rose hanging onto her arm, both wearing black dresses. They were followed by Ron and Hugo who were in collared shirts and navy slacks.
Molly had out done herself once again, Hermione muse to herself, scanning the yard that had been completely transformed to host Harry's party. Over one-hundred guests were scattered outside behind the Weasley home, some sitting at round tables while others stood and mingled as soft jazz played in the background. Two bars had been set up on opposite ends, and a small dance floor with stringless twinkle lights was situated in the middle.
Hermione stood motionlessly next to Ron as Rose and Hugo quickly ran into the party, likely searching for their cousins and friends. Hermione spotted many familiar faces, and she noticed that all twenty five members of the Weasley clan were present for the event.
"This isn't quite what I imagined," Hermione murmured to Ron.
"No," he shook his head. "Me neither."
"Hermione! Ronald!"
Hermione whipped her head to the right and saw her mother-in-law approaching them with a wide smile.
"Molly," Hermione said just before she was engulfed into a tight hug. "This is a bit more people than we expected."
"It was Ginny's idea," Molly replied, letting go of Hermione and leading her and Ron to an empty table. "In June she came to me asking if I'd help her do something special for Harry's fortieth."
Hermione took a seat at the table, and as she picked up a wine glass, it magically filled with Pinot Grigio.
"It beautiful out here," Hermione said to Molly. "Don't you think so, Ron?"
Ron, who had taken a seat next to her, was sipping on a dark liquor.
"It's nice, mum," he said unenthusiastically.
"I'm so happy you both decided to come," Molly gushed as though they'd achieved something spectacular. She crouched in between their chairs and put one arm around them each. "Now, I know you've been going through something, and I don't mean to pry, but during these tough times, please try to remember how much love the both of you have in your lives. You have a beautiful family, wonderful friends, and best of all, each other."
Normally Hermione would have been irked with her mother-in-law for saying something like that, but the earnest way in which Molly was staring at her made Hermione want to pull her into another hug. As intrusive as she could sometimes be, she really did mean well.
Molly left to check on the caterer, and her absence was soon replaced by Bill, Fleur, George, and Angela, who joined Hermione and Ron for dinner. The structured part of the evening went quick. After a delicious meal, prime rib and rosemary fondant potatoes, Ginny gave a brief toast and Harry remarked a 'thank you' to those celebrating with him, announcing that the party portion of the evening had officially started.
A few moments later, Hermione found herself alone at the table, sipping on her third glass of Elves' Wine. Ron, Bill, and George had left to interrogate Teddy about his plans to ask Victoire to move in with him, Fleur had gone to visit with her sister at an adjacent table, and Angela had excused herself to the loo.
From across the party, Hermione noticed Rose and Scorpius tucked away at a distance table, sitting closely and intimately conversing with one another. Her stomach dropped when she saw Rose casually place her hand high up on Scorpius's thigh and lean in to him, her lips almost touching his ear as she whispered to him. Whatever she had said made Scorpius laugh, and the pair stood, making their way to the dance floor.
With narrow eyes, Hermione watched her daughter as she placed her arms around the young Malfoy's neck and begin to dance.
Rose was wearing tall heels and a knee length tight black dress that had quarter length sleeves. Her long auburn hair was loosely curled, and she was wearing hoop gold earrings and a matching bracelet. She didn't look thirteen. She looked thirty.
"Rose and Scorpius seems to be rather friendly," Ginny said with one eyebrow raised, sitting in the empty seat next to Hermione.
"You noticed as well?"
"Hard not to," Ginny replied with a small smile. "There's a weird vibe between them, no? An attraction."
Hermione sighed heavily, her shoulders dropping.
"I'm not ready for her to be boy crazy," she said with a concerned glance at her daughter, who was still in Scorpius's arms.
"Well you better get ready," Ginny advised, hesitating slightly before adding, "a few weeks ago I interrupted something between the two of them in mum's kitchen. Rose's ears were practically glowing red, and Scorpius looked crazy guilty."
Hermione looked at Ginny, horrified. She interrupted them? Interrupted them doing what?
"You caught them kissing?" she asked, the color draining from her face.
Ginny shrugged. "Must have been something like that. I don't know what else would have gotten them so flustered."
"I guess I should talk to her."
Ginny snorted. "Good luck with that."
Hermione groaned and dramatically let her forehead hit the table. She rested there for a moment, and then straightened in her chair, taking her refilled wine glass in her hand. She immediately drained it.
"How are things?" she asked, setting her glass back down on the table while trying her best to remain casual. Ginny saw right through it.
"You mean between me and Harry?"
"That's not what I meant but if you want to talk about that we can," Hermione answered, not wanting to ruin the moment of normalcy they were having.
Ginny took a moment to answer, swirling the red wine around in her glass.
"Fine," she answered stiffly. "Things are fine. Slowly we're getting back to normal."
"Good," Hermione said lamely, not really sure what else she should say.
"Harry showed me the notes and letter from the blackmailer," Ginny said quietly. "And your medical record." She paused thoughtfully before continuing. "It must have been awful. To find out you're pregnant and then lose a baby like that."
Hermione said nothing for a moment, caught off guard by Ginny's unexpected sympathy.
"I wouldn't know," she said after a beat, looking at her sister-in-law. "I was stupid enough to choose not to remember."
...
"Hey," Harry said as he approach Ron with two butter beers in his hands.
Ron was sitting alone at table near the dance floor, his eyes glued to his daughter who was standing between Albus and Scorpius, drinking a glass of champagne she'd likely nicked. Harry sat down and slid one of the butter beers over to him.
"Happy Birthday," Ron grumbled, not bothering to look in Harry's direction.
"Thanks," Harry murmured. "Can we - "
"Don't," Ron interrupted abruptly, and then lowered his voice. "You need to leave me alone. I promised Hermione I wouldn't make a scene, but when I hear your voice or see your face, all I want to do is smash a bludger straight into your nose."
"Wouldn't be the first," Harry quipped, attempting to lighten the mood, but Ron didn't seem impressed. "Ron, I miss you. You're my best mate."
Ron looked at him finally.
"You fucked my wife."
"I know," Harry responded quietly. "I'm sorry, I really am, but when it happened she wasn't your wife. Hell, she wasn't even your girlfriend."
"You knew how I felt about her," Ron hissed, struggling to control his anger.
"You're right, I did," Harry admitted, nodding. "It was a bloody rotten thing to do."
"You also knocked her up," Ron continued with disgust. "She almost bled out and damn near died on that grimy bathroom floor thanks to you."
Harry winced, feeling as though he'd been punched in the gut. He could still remember the state he'd found Hermione in. In that moment he'd though for sure she was gone.
"Again, Ron, I'm so sorry. I hate myself for what I put her through, but it was over twenty years ago." Harry waited for a response, but was met with silence. "Can't you forgive me?"
Ron said nothing.
"Come on, enjoy a beer with me," Harry nudged. "It's my fortieth birthday."
Ron starred at him hard, his blue eyes swirling with volatile emotion.
"Fuck you."
He stood quickly and stormed off, leaving Harry alone.
Hermione, who had witnessed the entire interaction from a distances cautiously approached Harry before sitting down next to him.
"Happy Birthday," she said, taking a sip of the beer that had been meant for Ron.
"Thanks," Harry replied with a heavy sigh. "And thanks for coming. I know things are a bit... rough."
"It wouldn't have been right to miss your birthday," Hermione said, remembering that she'd almost not come. "I can't even remember the last one we didn't spent together."
"It would have been when we were in school," Harry answered with a smile, bringing his beer glass to his mouth and drinking a third of the contents.
This is the night by the Weird Sisters began to play, and Harry outstretched his hand to Hermione. With his eyebrow waggling, he teasingly asked, "Care to dance?"
Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms. "Do you want Ron to punch you?"
"I'm joking!" Harry said with a laugh, leaning back in his chair.
They both said nothing for a moment, watching those around them mingle and dance.
"About my memories," Hermione whispered as she leaned towards him. "I've made up my mind. I'm certain."
"Have you told Ron?" Harry asked with a look of skepticism.
"No," Hermione sighed, running her fingers through her magically straightened hair. "I figure in this case it's better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission. He'll been furious no matter what, and I know I won't change my mind."
"Okay," Harry replied, looking taken off guard. "When?"
"Next weekend maybe?" Hermione suggested. "I think I may need the next day to myself, so Friday or Saturday would be best."
"Saturday," Harry confirmed, raising his beer in the air, as if to salute her. Hermione clinked her glass against his and took a large sip.
Due to nerves, so far Hermione had drank more than she'd planned, and she was feeling a bit tipsy. She took a moment to get her head straight and it was then that she glanced around the room and saw many faces staring at her.
"Harry?" Hermione said, standing from her chair and scanning the party. She saw that a few people were holding what looked to be some sort of flyer, and some were reading it intently. "What are those on all the tables?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"There are newspapers on all of the tables, Harry!"
Harry to jump to his feet and Hermione was about to rush to the nearest copy when she noticed that one had appeared at the table they were sitting at. She picked it up, and as she did her heart sank. A note in scratchy writing was attached to the front of the thick folded paper. It read: An advanced copy of tomorrow Daily Prophet - For your reading pleasure. The headline jumped out at Hermione.
Potter & Granger: Secret Lovers?