A/N: I'm back! Sorry everyone - I was quite busy over the holiday season and then pretty drained from administering COVID-19 vaccines (a job that never seems to end!). I'll try to update more regularly going forward. Thanks to those that continue to read and review. Appreciate the feedback regarding Scorpius and Rose - I will say when I was 13/14 years old, my friends and I were certainly physical with our boyfriends/girlfriends, but maybe we were the exception though? Regardless, I'll try and reign it in a bit without veering off from my planned plot. Hope you guys enjoy.
Hermione made sure she was busy in the kitchen when the guests arrived at her home for Rose's fourteen birthday party. Molly had immediately volunteered to assist her, and the two washed and dried dishes in a comfortable silence. Somehow, the older witch seemed to pick up on the anxiety that the younger was feeling, and knew it best to allow her to be with her own thoughts.
An hour into the party, the entire Weasley clan and their families, her parents, and a number of close friends were merrily conversing while music played softly in the background. Hermione sipped a glass of wine and watched them from the kitchen island.
It all felt so bitter sweet. How could things appear so normal when everything around them was falling apart? She and Ron were separated, Ron and Harry weren't speaking, she and Harry weren't speaking, and to say the kids were confused and hurt would be an understatement. Yet everyone had come together to celebrate Rose's birthday, pretending as though nothing was wrong. Hermione couldn't help but worry that could very well be the last time.
Hermione was at least glad that Rose seemed to be having a good time. She had last spotted her whispering and giggling with Dominque. It seemed whatever the two were discussing was quite the secret, and Hermione was suppressing the urge to question her niece.
Lost in thought about the changes going on with her daughter, she didn't notice someone approaching her.
"Hermione?"
Slightly startled, Hermione quickly turned to see Ginny staring at her, fidgeting with an almost empty wine glass and wearing an uneasy look.
"Gin," Hermione said cautiously. "Is something wrong?"
"Can we talk for a second?" the red head asked hesitantly. "Upstairs?"
...
Harry was laying low, leaning against the fireplace and listening from a distance to Arthur and Bill talking about a trendy muggle currency known as coin. He smiled softly and sipped on his sparkling water as he heard his father-in-law try to properly explain the internet to his son.
It was rare that Harry wasn't drinking at a social event, a decision he'd made before arriving. He didn't want to lower his guard or risk losing his inhibitions with things between everyone so tense. He wanted to stay in control, and numbing himself with fire whiskey would certainly only make matters worse.
"Harry!"
Harry turned around to see Jean Granger come towards him from the dining room, John Granger trailing behind her. She beamed at Harry while her husband looked him up and down with narrow eyes.
"Mrs. Granger," Harry smiled as she pulled him into a hug. "So nice to see you."
"It's been too long," she replied warmly, giving him a tight squeeze before releasing him.
Harry turned his attention to John. The man didn't look at all pleased to be in his company, but nonetheless, Harry held out his hand towards him.
"Mr. Granger," he said with a small quiver in his voice, feeling like a nervous teenage boy. "How are you, sir?"
John raised his left eyebrow at Harry's extended hand, and pursed his lips together tightly. He shook his head disapprovingly.
"I never thought I had to be worried with you," he muttered. "I always had an eye on Weasley, but not on you. Apparently I should have."
"John..." Jean said sternly, giving her husband a warning look. "We talked about this. Leave the past in the past."
John's jaw twitched as he scanned over Harry once more. In a quick motion, he grabbed Harry's hand and shook it forcefully. He didn't let go, and instead, pulled Harry closer to him, looking him square in the eyes.
"If there is ever a repeat of what happened between you and my daughter, rest assured that I will hunt you down."
"John!"
Harry was a bit shocked, but he recovered quickly. It was the first threat he'd ever received from a female's father, and he suddenly felt very appreciative for his easy going relationship with Mr. Weasley.
"I don't care how old she is, or how long ago it happened," John continued. "I'm her father, and I have to protect her."
Harry felt a twinge of guilt as he thought about how awful it must have been for Hermione's parents to find out what really happened during the last few months of the war. Not only did they learn that their daughter had downplayed the severity of her torture, but they'd also learned she became a pregnant teen from a one night stand and then almost died from a miscarriage. Of course her father would hold him responsible. He was responsible.
"I understand, Mr. Granger," Harry said quickly, wanting to say whatever would help end the unpleasant conversation between them. "I have a daughter too, and I can't imagine what it would feel like if I were in your shoes. I'm very sorry to have let you down."
John seemed to consider this for a moment, and after a hard stare, he gave a nod before walking away towards the bar.
Jean gave Harry a sympathetic look, and instinctively he cast his eyes aways. He didn't want anymore pity.
"Harry, I'm so sorry," Jean said with slight embarrassment. "He promised me he wouldn't."
"It's fine, Mrs. Granger, really."
"How are you?" She asked, changing the subject to what normally would be a lighter subject.
"Good, things have been going good."
"You expect me to believe that?" Jean asked skeptically, causing Harry to let out a small sigh. "I hope you're at least doing better than Hermione. She's been a wreck, though I'd never let on to her that I know that. She thinks she has me fooled."
Harry's interest was peaked.
"She's been guarded with me as well," he said, and then looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear them. "Did she say anything to you? About me?"
Jean couldn't suppress a knowing smile, and Harry's checked reddened slightly.
"No, she didn't," Jean answered truthfully. "But that's telling in and of itself."
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Harry frowned slightly.
Jean gave him a light pat on the shoulder.
"I'll leave that to you to figure out."
...
Hermione sat on the edge of her bed staring expectantly at her anxious friend who was standing in front of her. She and Ginny had left the excitement of the party downstairs and retreated to the master bedroom. What for exactly, Hermione still hadn't a clue.
"Gin, what's going on?" Hermione asked after a few moments of silence.
Ginny chewed the bottom of her, her eyes frantically darting around the room.
"Hey," Hermione soothed, standing to place a reassuring arm onto her shoulder. "Whatever it is, it can't be worse than the hell I've put everyone through."
It was meant to be a small attempt at humor, but Ginny's demeanor remained unchanged. She took a long sip of her wine, her hands shaking as she brought the glass to her lips.
"You're scaring me," Hermione said when she was met with silence. "What is it?"
Ginny closed her eyes, and breathed heavily.
"I cheated on Harry."
The words hung in the air for several moments. Hermione couldn't believe what she'd just heard. It was the last thing she expected to come out of Ginny's mouth.
"Wow, okay," Hermione exhaled, sitting back down on the edge of the bed in complete shock. "Just... wow."
Ginny began to wander in circle around the room, unable to remain still and face the possible judgement from Hermione's wide eyes.
"I'm sorry to drop this on you," Ginny said hurriedly. "I just didn't know who else to tell."
"With who?" Hermione asked, still in a state of disbelief.
"Dean Thomas."
"Gin..."
"I know, I'm awful," Ginny whispered with a cringe. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
Dean Thomas. Ginny couldn't have picked someone more hurtful if she tried, Hermione mused silently. Dean was Ginny first, and though Harry never admitted it, Hermione knew the notion bothered him.
"When? Where? Why?" Hermione spluttered questions out.
Ginny gulped.
"In Wigtown, after the Wanderers Game last weekend. A few reporters went out to the pub and Dean happened to be there with Seamus," she explained shamefully. "We got to drinking, and before I knew it, it was just the two of us."
"Ginny..." Hermione began, unable to mask the sadness in her voice. "Why?"
"I don't know," Ginny sighed heavily, her gaze cast downward. "This last month has been... well... harder on me than I cared to let on." She swirled her wine before taking another sip. "I know what happened was a long time ago, but it's still brand new to me. And it doesn't help that the press prints something almost everyday about the two of you being engaged in some sleazy affair."
"I'm sorry," Hermione said guiltily.
"Don't be," Ginny replied. "It's certainly not your fault I slept with Dean, and it's also not your fault I haven't faced my feelings about what's been going on and shared them with Harry."
"Does he know?" Hermione asked. "About Dean?"
"Not yet," Ginny answered with a frown. "I didn't want to tell him before the party. I knew it would ruin things for the kids, and they deserve some resemblance of normalcy this summer, at least for one night."
Hermione felt grateful for her friend's foresight. No matter how much each of them continued to screw up, they always try to piece things back together for their children. She hoped they never stopped.
"You'll get through this," Hermione stated firmly, locking her eyes with Ginny's. "You and Harry. You will survive this."
Ginny smiled sadly at her friend, and for the first time in a long time, Hermione saw tears roll down her cheeks. Slowly the red haired witch shook her head.
"Hermione," Ginny whispered softly. "This time, I really don't think we will."
...
"Why are we outside?" Rose asked with a raised brow, as Scorpius led her by the hand further into the garden where they wouldn't be seen by anyone passing by or looking out the windows.
"I didn't want to give you your present in front of everyone," he replied over his shoulder.
When they reached a secluded spot under a birch tree, the teens faced one another, shy smiles on both their faces. Scorpius took Rose's hands in his, trying his best not to let his nerves show. He'd never given a a present to a girl, at least not one that he liked.
"Are we just going to stand here staring at one another all night?" Rose teased, but in reality her heart was thudding against her chest.
"Right," Scorpius said, dropping her hands and reaching into his front pocket.
He pulled out a small box wrapped in red paper and topped with a white bow. He handed it to Rose, and intently watched her as she slowly opened it.
Under the wrapping paper was a small black box, and Rose carefully pried it open, revealing a dainty golden-tinged pink bracelet.
"Do you like it?" Scorpius asked nervously.
Rose looked up at him with a huge grin.
"I love it," she replied, taking the bracelet out of the box and slipping it over her wrist. She held out her arm in front of her to admire it.
"Thank you," Rose said, looking at the blonde boy fondly. "You didn't have to, but I love that you did."
"It's Rose Gold," Scorpius said, and then after a beat added, "just like you."
"Stop," Rose laughed, giving him a playful shove. "Don't get all gushy on me."
Scorpius smiled and linked his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.
"Happy Birthday."