Hermione and Ron sat across from one another at a dimly lit table, an uneasy silence hanging between them. He had owled her that morning asking if she was free to meet. The estranged pair was at Renato's, a muggle Italian restaurant that they'd at one time frequented often.

Hermione had been jittery all day, wondering what exactly it was Ron wanted to talk about. When she arrived and saw his pale face and darting worried eyes, an awful thought crossed her mind. Could this be it? Was this the moment he would announce they were over?

Ron took a large gulp of his scotch, and Hermione silent wondered if he needed liquid courage before dropping the bomb. He cleared his voice quietly before finally speaking.

"Look, I know you're probably furious with me," Ron said, gently setting his glass down on table and locking his eyes onto hers. "I want you to know it's not true."

Hermione was confused. Furious with him? What was he on about?

"I don't know what you mean," she said slowly. She watched him curiously as he fiddled with his napkin.

"I just thought I owed it to you to clear the air," Ron replied as Hermione took a sip of her wine. "I'm not sleeping with Luna."

"What?!" Hermione spluttered, Chardonnay almost shooting out her nose.

Ron grimaced, no longer meeting her intense gaze. He looked nervous again as he began to ramble.

"I know the photo looks damning, and I should have been smarter about going out in public. I'm sure you were beside yourself when - "

"Ron," Hermione hastily interrupted, putting up her hand to stop him. "I haven't the faintest clue as to what you're talking about."

Ron looked genuinely surprised before immediate relief washed over him.

"You didn't see it?" Ron asked, almost hopeful.

Hermione was beginning to get annoyed.

"See what?"

"Witch Weekly ran with an article about me the other day. I'm sure Luna has been pestering you as much as me to meet up, and last Saturday I had some free time while she was in London," Ron explained, his overall demeanor much calmer. "They got a few shot of us sitting at the bar at the Leaky Cauldron, and then a photo of me going up to her room." He paused briefly, looking to Hermione to gauge her reaction. Noting that she appeared fine, he continued. "I only went up because she asked if I wanted to look at the Golden Snidget she and Rolf had just recently rescued. I'd never seen one before, and I just couldn't resist holding it. I mean, this is what they used in Quidditch before the Snitch, M'ione. It's sports history! I swear to you, it was nothing more than that."

"Of course it wasn't," Hermione sighed, taking a large sip of wine as her shoulders relaxed. "Luna would never cheat on Rolf."

A small feeling of relief warmed Hermione. This was all he wanted to talk about?

"So you believe me?" Ron asked, seemingly surprised when she nodded her head. "Then I guess I was worried for nothing. The tabloids just made it look so... dirty."

Hermione laughed at his choice of words. Despite where they stood, it was sweet that he'd been worried.

"I haven't been reading any of the lies written about our family," she said. "Everyday it's something more absurd than the one before."

"I can't argue there," Ron agreed, offering her a halfhearted smile.

The waiter appeared before them and set down a plate in front of each, Bolognese pasta for Hermione and rich Carbonara dish for Ron. Usually he wasted no time digging in, but he hadn't moved to pick up his fork.

"I just want you to know, if I was seeing someone, I'd never let you find out like that," Ron said gently, his words taking Hermione by surprise. "You'd hear it from me first."

The notion was gut wrenching.

"And now?" Hermione asked as expressionlessly as she could manage. She would not let her upset show. She was stronger than that.

Ron shifted in his seat. There was another thing he'd be planning to discuss with her this evening, but now he wasn't sure what to say next.

"I kissed someone," Ron replied guiltily, sending a dagger through Hermione's heart that made her want to keel over in pain. "A muggle woman I met at a coffee shop. She seemed to like me, so I asked if she wanted to have dinner."

"Okay," Hermione managed to utter, forcing herself to continue breathing.

"It was only one night. I had a nice time, but I knew it just wasn't a good fit," Ron continued, his ears turning a slight pink. "When I walked her to her door, I could tell she was expecting something, so I leaned in... I'm sorry."

"You don't have to explain anything or apology," Hermione said quietly, the scene he'd just described playing through her mind. Was this muggle woman pretty?

"I know, but I still feel rotten," Ron confessed, looking somewhat shameful.

Emotions bubbled with her, and the question she'd been wanting to ask him for weeks flew from her mouth.

"Is our marriage over, Ron?"

Hermione was surprised how calm she sounded, especially considering she felt as though her heart would explode.

"I'm not sure," Ron answered with a feeble shrug. "The idea of you and someone else... well that bothers me. That has to mean something, doesn't it?"

"I'm not seeing anyone if that's what you're asking," Hermione countered, a hint of irritation in her voice. If he wanted to know, he should out right ask.

"But you will eventually?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "I suppose there's a possibility someday, that is, if you and I don't work things out."

The answer seems to satisfied Ron, and as far as Hermione was concerned, he really had nothing to fret about. Though she had recognized her feelings for Harry, she knew she'd never be able to act on them. There was no way he felt the same way. After all, he'd been able to carry on just fine with his memories from the forest, and they'd never seemed to affect him in the slightest. Other than one drunken moment during New Year's after the war, there had never been any sign that he was interested in her. He was married to Ginny. He loved Ginny. She accepted that.

"How are the kids?" Ron asked before stuffing twirled pasta into his mouth, seemingly having regained his appetite.

"These last few weeks have been hard for them," Hermione answered, hoping he wouldn't press much further. It was hard to talk about.

"George told me that Rosie is staying with your parents. What's going on there?"

For a moment, Hermione considered telling Ron about the intimate moment between Rose and Scorpius that she'd stumbled upon, but quickly thought better of it. Things were already tense enough. Now was not the time to add fuel to the fire.

"We got into a fight," Hermione replied, keeping the details as vague as possible, while still not wanting to lie. "A slight disagreement between mother and daughter. I think we'll both due well with a short break from each other."

Ron didn't ask more, and they ate their meal mostly in silence with the occasional attempt at small talk made by them both.

To Hermione, it almost felt like these last six weeks hadn't happened and they were having a date night.

Almost.

...

The striking Veela led Hermione down the dimly lit hall towards the daunting office located at the very end. Her pale, delicate fingers knocked on the large wooden door before it slowly swung open. The woman gestured for Hermione to enter, closing the door behind her as she left.

A middle age blonde man sat behind a mahogany desk, casually looking up from his newspaper to offer Hermione a small smile. He looked at her expectantly as she hesitantly ventured closer.

"Malfoy," Hermione acknowledged, taking a seat in the large black chair across from him.

"Minister," Draco gave a small nod.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet on such short notice."

"Of course," he replied, his grey eyes glued to her quizzically.

A silence fell over the room, and Hermione wondered if Draco was enjoying her discomfort. Though the two had been on friendly terms post-war, they weren't often alone. Astoria had always acted as a buffer.

"So Granger," Draco said with curled lips. He clasped his hands together and casually leaned back in his chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Where to begin? Hermione wondered silently.

"I thought you should know," she said, the words feeling dry in her mouth. "Rose and Scorpius have become somewhat of an item."

"Really?" He asked with a cocked eyebrow and feigned surprise.

Hermione nodded, and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

"And they are... uhh... exploring the physical aspects of this new relationship."

If Draco was at all bothered, it certainly didn't show.

"Interesting," he mused expressionlessly.

Hermione fixed him a hard stare as it dawned on her.

"You knew already, didn't you?" she asked, shaking her head in astonishment.

He smiled coyly. "Perhaps."

"Malfoy," Hermione said through gritted teeth. "Out with it."

He smirked, his icy eyes locking onto her.

"About a month ago I caught them slobbering on one another in my apartment," he answered flippantly. "My randy son was shirtless on top of your daughter, who by the way also seemed very eager... it was probably good that I walked in when I did."

Hermione cringed at the depicted scene, trying to stop the images flashing through her mind of what else occurred while the two teens had been alone during the first half of the summer.

"I could have done without the visual," Hermione snapped. "You didn't think about giving me a heads up?"

Draco shrugged innocently.

"I thought about sending you an owl, but it must have slipped my mind."

Hermione wanted to throttled him, but she didn't come for that. She came to find a solution.

"What are we going to do?" She said practically.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you serious?" She said with exasperation. "They are way too young to be... you know!"

"No I don't," Draco smirked wickedly. "Care to elaborate?"

"You insufferable prat," Hermione spat, knowing for certain now that he was toying with her.

"Relax," he replied, dismissing her concerns with a light wave. "Just because you were a prude all throughout school doesn't mean your daughter has to be."

Hermione was offended. She wasn't a prude, and Rose wasn't some slag either.

"Malfoy!" She shrieked, rising to her feet. "They're fourteen. They can't be having sex and we certainly can't be condoning it."

"They aren't!" Draco countered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pipe. He effortlessly lit it with a match, bringing the skinny end to his thin mouth. "They're just messing around. It's kid stuff."

He couldn't be serious. Kids stuff? That certainly wasn't what she'd seen.

"Really?" Hermione snapped, eyeing him dangerously. "Because I caught them down to their knickers in Rose's bed just the other day."

Draco momentarily paused before taking a long inhale on the pipe that rested in between his lips.

"I must say, I'm impressed," he replied wryly. "l didn't think Scorp had it in him."

"Malfoy!"

"Okay, okay," Draco conceded. He'd tortured her enough. "What do you suggest?"

"Adult supervision?" Hermione halfheartedly suggested.

"Sure, that'll work for the summer, and what about when they go back to school? You can't have Mcgonagall tail them everywhere they go."

Hermione knew he was right. September was just around the corner and Rose and Scorpius would soon have plenty of opportunities to be alone.

"Ugh!" She groaned. "So what? We just teach Rose the contraception charm, fix her a daily potion, and send them on their way?"

"Better then the alternative," Draco shrugged. "I'm too young to be a grandfather."

Hermione was aghast. He did not just say that. Why would he put the idea of his son impregnating her daughter in her head?

"I hate this," she grumbled, sinking back down into her seat. "I really, really hate this. We have no control. They're going to just do whatever they want and we can't stop them!"

"It's going to be okay," Draco comforted. "Rose is more like you than you know, and thankfully, Scorpius is nothing like me."

Hermione sighed. She really hoped he was right.

"You'll keep an eye on them, will you?"

"I promise to break down any closed door at the first sign of any funny business."

"And you'll talk to Scorpius?"

"I'll have a loving father-son chat about respecting boundaries as soon as I get home," Draco answered, his tone finally conveying some seriousness. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

"Thanks," she mumbled, not feeling any better about their predicament.

"So... you and Potter?" Draco began, his left eyebrow cocked upward and his lips curving into a small smirk.

Hermione shot him a warning look.

"Don't start."

His lips widened as he leaned forward in his seat, almost tauntingly.

"Couldn't help but noticed you didn't deny the love child claims... could it be that maybe there's some truth sprinkled in with the lies?"

"I am so not discussing this with you," Hermione said firmly.

"Come on," Draco teased. "I'm dying to know... is scarhead or Weasel your preferred shagged?"

Hermione blushed furiously.

"Seriously, Malfoy?" she snapped, causing him to recoil ever so slightly. "With all the crap I have going on right now, you have to revert back to your disgusting self? In case you haven't clued in, my life is in shambles."

Draco said nothing for a moment, taking in Hermione's appearance for the first time since she entered his office a few minutes ago. She looked tired, but he'd assumed that was from all the worrying she was doing about Rose. She'd also seemed to have lost weight, weight that she really couldn't afford to lose. The only time Draco had seen her thinner was during her time at Malfoy Manor, and that wasn't saying much for her current state.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered, and he really was. He'd only intended to have a bit of fun with her. "I didn't realize things were that bad. Is there anything I can do?"

"Honestly no," she answered tiredly. "Things are... well a bit estranged between everyone in the Weasley-Granger house right now."

"If it helps, my life has been in shambles many times. If I can manage to piece it back together, I'm sure the famous Hermione Granger can as well."

She gave him an authentic smile. It was moments like this that she could see the resemblance between Draco and his son. He really had changed after the war.

"I just wish I could hide out and clear my head," Hermione said with a frown. "Even for a few days."

"So do it."

"Yeah," she snarked bitterly. "I'll get right on that. I'm sure the media would love the scandal ridden Minister taking off for several days, ignoring the wizarding world so she can have a breakdown in peace."

"You're entitled to holidays just like anyone else," he countered, and he wasn't wrong. She was allotted six weeks paid vacation for each year.

"Now's not the time," Hermione replied.

"Really? Because I can think of no better," Draco reasoned. "You need to recharge, regain some emotional strength. There's nothing wrong with that." He paused before adding, "It wouldn't kill you to eat something, either. I know this sounds crazy, but it might even make you feel better."

She ignored his last remark.

"You don't think it will make me look weak?"

"Who cares what anyone thinks," he answered, and then he smiled, a thought having come to his mind. "I inherited a quaint cabin in Switerzland from Astoria. You could go there."

"Yeah, okay," Hermione said sarcastically. "I'll go home and pack right now."

"I'm serious," Draco replied insistently. "I haven't been able to bring myself to go there since her death. Someone should enjoy it."

"Draco..."

"Granger," he sternly interjected. "I will take it as a great personal offense if you reject my offer."

Hermione exhaled deeply, knowing he'd made some rather good points.

"Alright."

...

It had been a very long time since Harry felt this alone. What Ginny had confessed to him the other evening had been very hard to swallow. She had cheated on him, with Dean Thomas no less. Harry had thought things between them had been improving. He thought they were getting back on the right track. Apparently he'd been wrong.

Harry wasn't sure what his outlet would now be. As unfair as it was, over the last few weeks his mending marriage had been the only thing making his unrequited longing for Hermione bearable. He hadn't spoken to her since they'd rowed in her office at the Ministry. They'd only brushed arms briefly at Rose's party, and he knew she was avoiding him. It was something that made him go back and forth between guilt and anger.

On this particular Friday afternoon, Harry's anger had won over his guilt. He was on a mission, a mission to give Hermione a piece of his mind and have her see reason. After all, wasn't she doing what she'd promised not to? This was exactly why he'd been hesitant to restore her memories. He'd had a gnawing feeling that she'd begin to resent him.

Harry didn't expect her to return his feelings, in fact, he swore to take them to his grave. All he wanted was his friend back. He didn't think that was too much to ask. Not after everything they'd been through.

Not bothering to knock, Harry flew open the door to Hermione's office, preparing for another heated exchange. This time he was not going to let her dismiss him so easily.

However, Harry was shocked to see that Hermione was no where in sight, and a tall dark-skinned wizard sat behind her desk in her place.

"Kingsley?" Harry stared with confusion at his friend and former boss. "What are you doing here?"

Kingsley smiled warmly, pouring a cup of tea and sliding it towards Harry as he spoke.

"Hermione sent a patronus last night asking if I wouldn't mind overseeing things while she's away for a few days," he answered casually, stirring a lump of sugar into his cup. Harry continued to stand in the doorway in total disbelief. "She's finally decided to take me up on my offer and go on a holiday. Truthfully, I'm surprised she lasted this long. The first year as Minister is by far the most grueling."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Hermione was gone? She'd taken off on some vacation without so much as a note? He was head of the Auror department! How could she just leave without letting him know?!

"Harry?" Kingsley said, noting the younger wizard's odd demeanor. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," he said quickly, and then thinking on his feet, added, "Sorry, I forgot she'd mentioned she was thinking of going away."

"Perfectly alright," Kingsley replied. "I'm sure you've got a lot going on with those Death Eater sympathizers. You'll let me know if there's anything I can do to help?"

Harry nodded and taking his cue to leave Kingsley to his work, turned to leave. Just as he was about to close the door, he paused and stuck his head back into the room.

"Say Kingsley," Harry said casually. "Could you remind me where Hermione said she was going? I think I should know. To provide her protection of course."