There was only a single-sized bed in the Grangers' guest room, so Hermione had moved her suitcase into there, leaving the twins in her old room, which suited Rose just fine.
"You're wasting your time," Holly admonished as she watched Rose pick through their mum's closet. "You don't think I've dug around in there a million times over the years, when I was looking for stuff about Dad?"
"Yes, but you're not as crafty as I am."
"I couldn't use magic before, you mean."
Rose shot a grin at her over her shoulder. "Same difference. Revelio."
Holly huffed and slid out of bed to join Rose in the closet. "What exactly are you looking for?"
Rose shrugged. "We didn't get much out of them earlier. I'm just curious about when they were younger."
"When they were together?"
"Yeah." Rose sighed. "You're probably right, though. About trying to get them back together."
"I'm always right," Holly retorted.
"Didn't you ever think about it, though? How it would be to be a family?"
"I mean...sort of, I guess. But I didn't know about you, so the vision I had when I was little is all wrong anyway. I think we just have to take what we got. They're not splitting us up. We're both going back to Beauxbatons." Holly shrugged and turned around. "We did it, Rose. It's a win."
Rose wished she could feel victorious about it, but the whole situation felt incomplete. She didn't know how to describe it, but she knew, seeing her parents together today, that she'd never seen her dad look at anyone the way he had looked at her mum. Not that he'd put much effort into dating over the years, and she had only on rare occasions even seen him with a woman. But that in itself had to mean something, didn't it?
"You know, just taking what we got is how we ended up spending eleven years apart," Rose pointed out, moving from the closet to examine the bookshelf, which was full of pictures that conspicuously excluded her dad. "Reckon I'm a bit sick of just taking what we get."
Holly raised an eyebrow. "So get back together the two people who split us up in the first place?" she asked skeptically.
"Either that, or we're doomed to a lifetime of split holidays and Grandma's awkward setups."
"Grandma likes to set up Dad on dates?"
"Well, yes, but I meant this Grandma." Rose made a vague motion toward the hallway. "You should have seen the bloke she invited over to meet Mum the other night. What a ponce."
Holly's eyes widened. "Okay, maybe you're right."
"I'm what?" Rose grinned triumphantly.
"Shut it. What'd you have in mind?"
Rose plopped down on the bed next to Holly, the wheels in her head already spinning. "I thought you'd never ask."
The time with Rose and Holly had gone by so quickly. Hermione knew she shouldn't be sad about leaving them—it was, after all, only another few days before they would go back to school, anyway—but she had really only just gotten Rose back into her life, and she wasn't quite ready to let her go.
She was packing up her things, preparing to return to New York the next day, when the twins appeared in the doorway to the guest room, both grinning. "The two of you look quite mischievous," she teased, dropping a sweater into her suitcase.
"No mischief," Holly said. "But we wanted to do something nice for you and Dad. You know, for letting us spend all this time together."
"We thought that when you take us back to Dad's tonight, we could all have dinner together," Rose chimed in.
"Oh, that's lovely, girls. Does your dad know? He may have made other plans with you tonight."
"Oh, we took care of that." Hermione raised an eyebrow at Rose. "Uncle George helped us make arrangements." Holly jabbed Rose with her elbow, giving Hermione the impression that Rose had said more than she was supposed to, though she really hadn't said much of anything.
"Anyway, we picked out something for you to wear as well," Holly added, and reached back out into the hallway to retrieve a floaty lilac dress that they must have dug from the depths of her closet.
Torn between laughing and crying at the memories the dress evoked, Hermione joked, "I don't imagine I'll be able to fit into that anymore. I haven't worn it since before you two."
"Are you a witch or aren't you?" Rose scolded.
Hermione rolled her eyes lightly as she took the dress from Holly. "I'll see what I can do with it. Is this a fancy place we're going, then?"
"Trust us, Mum. You're going to love it."
That evening, the three of them were walking down Diagon Alley, quite dressed up beneath their winter coats, and Hermione was very curious what their daughters had cooked up. If George was involved, it could really have been anything.
Ron was waiting outside a restaurant just a couple of shops down from Wheezes, and Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she realized that he was wearing the same dress robes that he had been at Bill and Fleur's wedding, the same occasion on which she had last worn this dress. She glanced at the twins, who had rushed ahead to greet their dad, and wondered how they could possibly have known—but then she remembered the picture, the only one she had ever shown Holly of Ron.
"Alright, you two, what's all this about?" Ron was asking them as Hermione caught up.
"Come on, you'll see," Rose replied, leading the way into the restaurant.
The picture explained the outfits, but they had obviously leaned heavily on George for the atmosphere. The restaurant had been cleared out except for one table off to the side, and a dance floor that Hermione imagined was not normally there took up most of the available space. And the decorations, though not identical, were very similar to the ones from the wedding.
"How in the world did you two pull this off?" Hermione asked, looking around in wonder.
"Uncle George helped a bit."
"A bit, Rose, really?"
"Alright, Uncle George helped a lot." Holly grinned. "It's ours for the night."
"But...the table's only set for two," Ron noted, and Hermione's eyes darted that direction.
"Oh. That's the other part of the surprise," Rose said brightly. "We're not joining you."
"You're not?" Hermione scolded herself for not having been more suspicious of this plan.
"We told you we wanted to do something nice for you and Dad," Holly replied. "So, here it is. Enjoy, see you in a bit!" She tugged at Rose's arm, and the two of them backed out into the cold, both seemingly fighting giggles.
Ron looked over at Hermione. "Reckon we were just tricked by two eleven-year-olds," he said with a hint of a smile. "Moments like these, I think we'd have been better off if they hadn't gotten your brains."
"I'm sorry. I should've known they were up to something."
"Don't apologize. We don't have to stay, if you don't want to. But er...they did promise dinner, and I'm quite hungry."
Hermione smiled at him. "Well, we are here, after all, we may as well eat." She shrugged out of her coat and hung it up on the rack by the door. When she turned back to face Ron, his eyes were slightly wide, and his cheeks were tinged pink. "Oh." She smoothed the skirt of the dress self-consciously. "The girls insisted."
"No, it's—you look beautiful." Ron's blush deepened. "Sorry, am I allowed to say that?"
Hermione smiled shyly. "Always the tone of surprise," she teased softly, as she had before.
Ron cleared his throat and returned her awkward smile before gesturing to the table. "Shall we?" Hermione nodded and took his extended arm to let him lead her across the room.
They were waited on as if the restaurant was open for its normal business, and they stuck to safe topics of conversation, which was mostly swapping stories about Rose and Holly that the other had missed out on. Just as the waiter brought out their salads, Hermione noticed the two identical faces peeking in through the window, though they quickly ducked out of sight when they realized Hermione had seen them. She rolled her eyes as she picked up her fork. "Now I know how a goldfish feels," she scoffed.
"You know," Ron said slowly. "I may never really be alone with you again. So...can I ask you something?"
Hermione took a sip of wine to hide her face, suddenly nervous. "You can ask."
Ron shifted awkwardly in his seat but went on anyway. "About the day that you packed…" Hermione swallowed and forced herself to meet his gaze. "Why'd you do it?"
"Oh, Ron, I don't know. We were so young, we said stupid things, and so...I packed. Accepted that job in New York, took the first portkey I could get, and…" It sounded stupid and immature to say now, but at the time, the next part had felt monumentally important. "And you didn't come after me."
Ron's voice was barely a whisper as he replied, "I didn't think you wanted me to."
Hermione blinked hard against the tears she could feel forming. She couldn't accept that the whole thing had been a misunderstanding, ten years they had wasted because they were both too proud to just talk to each other. Not that there was any guarantee they would still be together now, anyway. Not that Ron still had feelings for her, so many years later, even though she had barely been able to think about anything all night except returning the favor and pulling him to the dance floor, and kissing him the way neither of them had had the courage to do the night the Ministry had fallen. "Yes, well, it's all in the past now, isn't it?" Hermione said briskly, grateful for the timely arrival of their dinners. "Let's just...put on a good face for the girls, and get this show on the road, hmm?"
They passed the rest of the meal quickly, and mostly in silence. Rose and Holly looked hopeful when Ron and Hermione walked into Wheezes to retrieve them, and Hermione could tell they were disappointed that their parents didn't seem to have come to any sort of romantic reconciliation. Hermione had to admit, as she said her goodbyes to the girls, and received a tentative kiss on the cheek from Ron, that she was a bit disappointed, too.
