Rose talked her mum's ear off all the way to London, forgetting for the time being her disappointment that she wouldn't see where Holly and Hermione actually lived. But it didn't matter. She had finally, finally met her mother, and she was absolutely enthralled with her. Fortunately, based on Hermione's apparent lack of suspicion that she was on the train with the wrong daughter, Holly was just as inquisitive with their mother as Rose was being. Which suited her just fine, because Rose wanted to know everything about her and their life in New York. (And, of course, what her life had been like when she was with Ron, but Rose would have to work her way up to that particular topic.)

Once they had reached King's Cross Station, Hermione and Rose ducked into an apparition point that was disguised as a telephone booth, and Hermione pulled out her wand to apparate them to her parents' house. Rose gulped nervously; it was rare that her dad side-alonged her anywhere, and she hoped that she didn't vomit when they got there. And that Holly wasn't any more used to that particular mode of transportation than she was.

Moments later, they were standing in an immaculate kitchen on the outskirts of London. "Mum!" Hermione called out, tucking her wand back into her coat. "We're here!"

"Oh, look here, she must have snuck in through the back door." The voice was followed by an older woman who looked strikingly like Hermione, only with grey speckled into her dark brown hair.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Mum, we didn't come through the back door, we—" She stopped abruptly as her parents entered the room, followed by a younger man. The first thing Rose noticed about him was his unnaturally perfect teeth; she hated him on sight.

"Hope you don't mind, darling," her grandfather said as he kissed Hermione's cheek, and her grandmother fussed over her. "Steven here has just joined our practice and when your mum heard he'd be having takeaway for dinner, she insisted he come eat with us instead."

Rose glanced over at her mum as her grandparents traded places. Hermione was wearing an expression of forced politeness, and Rose got the impression that this sort of set-up was not uncommon for her. Aunt Ginny and Grandma Weasley had tried to set her dad up with women before, so she was no stranger to the concept, but never had any of their attempts been quite so blatant. "So you're a dentist," Hermione said as she reached out to shake his hand. Dentist. Rose rolled the word around in her mind; what was it Holly said their grandparents did again? Steven smiled again and jolted her memory; that explained the teeth.

"Yes, been working with your parents for just a couple of weeks now."

"Lovely to meet you. I'm sure my parents told you about my daughter, Holly here. I'm a single mum. In New York." Hermione's tone was conversational, but it was clear she was pointing out reasons why she shouldn't date this man, though whether to her parents or Steven, Rose wasn't sure. She'd always assumed she'd gotten her stubbornness from her dad, but it seemed both of her parents had an obstinate streak. Rose couldn't quite keep the grin off her face.

Steven seemed slightly thrown by Hermione's bluntness, but he recovered quickly. "Well, yes. They speak very highly of you both. Could I get you a drink, Hermione?"

"Certainly, and keep them coming." Hermione shot Rose a conspiratorial eye roll as they joined the procession back to the living room, and Rose stopped fighting her smile. This was going to be fun.


"Honestly, Mum, what were you thinking?" Hermione groaned over tea, later that night, after Steven had left and Holly had gone to bed.

"Oh, I can't even invite a nice young man over to my own house anymore?" Jean returned sarcastically. "He's a coworker of your father's and mine, Hermione, don't get your knickers in a twist."

"That man was not under the impression that he was here as a coworker of yours, I assure you." Hermione sat back in her chair and sipped her tea. Hugo was sitting on the couch with his nose in the paper, but Hermione knew better than to think he wasn't listening. "And in front of Holly!"

"Well, best to just rip the plaster off with these sort of things."

"So it was a set-up."

"It was a nice gesture for a friend of ours, who is new in town, and if the two of you happened to hit it off, then so much the better." Hermione glared at her mum, who went on despite the stern look, "Darling, you're thirty-one years old, don't you think it's time you found someone? A partner?"

"That's ridiculous," Hermione snapped. "I get along just fine on my own."

"I know you do, and I'm not saying you're not capable on your own, only that it would be nice to share your life with someone."

"I share my life with Holly."

"And now that she's away at school, that's much less true. She's gone nine months out of the year. And besides, she needs a father."

"She has a father," Hermione forced out through gritted teeth. "Or have you forgotten where she got her red hair from?"

"You seem to have." Jean was glaring back now. "I think it's absurd, the way you two ruptured this family. Aren't you ever going to tell the poor girl that she has a sister?"

Hermione glanced urgently toward the stairs. "Will you keep your voice down? This is not how I'd like her to find out, thank you very much."

"And how is she supposed to find out, dear?"

"When might be a better question," Hugo piped up from behind the paper.

"True. She's nearly a teenager. And she has a right to know. And to know her father. Her real father."

Hermione's heart was pounding with the stress of the argument. "Then what's all this business about me finding a partner?" she asked, latching onto the tangent. "If you're so keen on Holly knowing her father."

"Well, I'm not stupid enough to suggest you get back together with Ron," Jean replied with a roll of her eyes. "You'd take my head clean off with that wand of yours. But would it be such a terrible thing just to be cordial with him? So you can actually see both of your daughters?"

Hermione stood abruptly. "We came up with this arrangement so we'd never have to see each other again, and I'm not going to start now. Goodnight." Jean sighed but didn't protest as Hermione headed up the stairs. She peeked into Holly's room as she passed, and was relieved to see that she was sound asleep.

They were doing fine, she and Holly, Hermione thought to herself as she crawled into bed. What sense was there in rocking the boat now?