Originally posted on Archive of Our Own, under the same name - which is where my author's notes are likely to be found, if you're interested. Otherwise, things will be exactly the same.
"Whoa, fever's running high/ Burned off the demons in my mind/ I'm seeing with fresh eyes/ What we had was built on/ Broken promises and hard-won love..." Delta Rae, "New Days - Acoustic"
Perhaps to an outside perspective, it was anyone's guess as to who Hermione would end up with. Most guesses were on either Harry or Ron, of course, although there were quite a few more on Malfoy, oddly enough.
Maybe that's why Lupin and Tonks had assigned Harry and Hermione as Teddy's godparents, in an odd matchmaking scheme from the afterlife.
Or perhaps Tonks heard Lupin's pick for godfather, and had the foresight to think that Harry could've used a bit of help.
Regardless, Hermione was honored and she knew Harry felt the same - although, things were a bit dampered by the way things had turned out.
She pondered these things as she stared out across the crowd of mourning faces and saw Andromeda, clutching onto a drowsy pink-haired baby like a lifeline.
It'd made sense at the time, really, to hold a massive funeral for the Order members lost during the battle. Lupin and Tonks were the final two, their caskets poised and ready for burial as Charlie Weasley continued in his eulogy to his friend. George had descended from the makeshift stage previously, and Hermione eyed Fred's casket, settled beside Lupin's. The corner of her mouth tried to quirk a grin, as the twins had always pestered Lupin for more Marauder secrets. Perhaps he was getting them now.
Charlie had gone silent, staring at the three caskets closest to him. He'd lost a friend and a brother - Hermione didn't mind him being pensive.
Until she took a closer look at Charlie's face, and noticed it was one of confusion instead of grief.
Charlie opened his mouth, sure to shrug whatever incident had just transpired off, before one of the caskets gave a startling rattle, just one at first before picking up speed.
"LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUUUT!" the inhabitant hollered, and Charlie was rushing to their aide in an instant.
Meanwhile, the crowd was standing and parting and rushing away - some thought Inferi, others just a good old fashioned zombie uprising. However, one of many ginger heads bounced forward, a purple dragon-hide suit jacket flapping in the wind.
"Fred!" George yelped as he and Charlie lifted the lid of the casket, a pale face and shaky hands popping up and clutching at the mahogany sides, looking to all the world as though he were sea sick.
And so, Fred had unknowingly upstaged both Lupin and Tonks's - as well as a few others' - funerals, what with his grand appearance. Or, rather, re-appearance.
Hermione mused the proper term as she bounced Teddy on her knee, sitting outside a rather crowded hospital room. Harry had offered to take the tyke from Andromeda, to give her a bit of a rest and ample time to grieve, and Hermione had taken him from Harry, insisting he go and be with Ginny and the other Weasleys.
Teddy gummed at his fist, and Hermione had to smile. Teddy, seeing the expression, tried to mimic it, but only managed to shove his fist farther into his mouth.
"Thanks, Hermione," Bill said, exiting the room with Fleur, who looked a little green herself. "There's a bit more space in there now, if you want."
Hermione blinked up at him in confusion, standing and settling Teddy on her hip as he clutched at the collar of her dress. "You're leaving?"
"I am not feeling very well," Fleur announced with a pained smile, pressing a few fingers to her temple. "Bill will be back to visit, once we check on the 'ome."
Hermione spared a glance to Bill, who was looking worriedly at his wife, and smiled at the attractive blonde. "It seems Fred isn't going anywhere soon - let Bill take care of you for a bit."
Fleur tutted and Bill chuckled, and the two ambled down the hallway as Hermione entered the hospital room.
It was chaos, of course. Mrs. Weasley was wailing into Fred's shoulder, Percy draped across his mother's shoulders, George perched on one side of the bed, Ginny and Ron speaking animatedly at the foot. Charlie, Mr. Weasley and Harry were all pressed together on the opposite wall, watching on.
Fred, to his credit, looked alive and putting up with the chaos far better than Hermione was sure she would've. At her entrance, Fred glanced to the doorway to give a cheery smile, before he paled all over again.
"How long was I out?!" he cried in shock.
Hermione looked on in confusion. She'd seen him last only a few days ago, during the Battle, but he hadn't seemed surprised by her appearance then.
"A few days, mate, why?" George insisted.
"When did Granger have a baby?" Fred asked, aghast.
Laughter exploded across the room as two and two were put together, and Hermione smiled as Teddy's brown curls brushed across her cheek while he dozed on her shoulder.
"This is Teddy, Lupin and Tonks's son," Hermione explained, and Fred seemed to collect himself.
"He's mine and Hermione's godson, and you're sure to be seeing a lot of him," Harry said, crossing the room and gently scooping the baby out of Hermione's arms, cradling him against his chest. Hermione eyed Ginny and suppressed a grin, knowing the girl was ready to swoon. "We need to talk to Andromeda about things, though."
"I'm sure we can work something out," Hermione agreed, although she was thinking through all of the other things she needed to work out as well. Teddy, however, was top priority.
"Well, glad to know not much has changed," Fred said with a sigh, patting his chest as though he were restarting his heart.
While Fred hadn't been entirely correct, as things had certainly changed, they were for the better. The following years saw the birth of Victoire Weasley, the marriage of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, and everyone gathering themselves in the aftermath of the war and marching forward.
Hermione, herself, had gotten a job in the Ministry, set to work her way towards being Minister one day, an ambition strongly encouraged by the Minister of Magic himself.
Hermione had just gotten off of a long day's work of refiling the horrendous catalog of arbitrary files that had been kept during the war, ready to fill her face with something warm and fresh out of the oven, when a considerable weight ran itself into her shins and nearly knocked her backwards.
After pinwheeling to keep her balance, Hermione shot a horrible attempt at a frown down at the little boy with his arms wrapped around her legs, giggling back up at her before crowing to be picked up.
"Sorry!" Harry called from down the hall, a chorus of laughter following somewhere nearby.
Teddy, however, seemed the furthest thing from sorry, grinning cheekily as Hermione hefted him up and parked him on a hip. "I miss you!" he insisted loudly before wrapping his arms around her head, giving her sloppy kisses as she laughed.
Any hint of exhaustion was gone, and soon she was bending the little boy upside down and peppering his face with a litany of kisses while he let out loud peals of laughter.
"Hermione!" Percy called from the kitchen, a plate already in his hands as he passed it off to her. Her and Percy had gotten closer as they'd worked together to sort through the mess of paperwork that had been left behind after the Ministry changed hands. "Did you finish with the werewolves, the wraiths or the Welsh file this evening?"
"Not even to the trolls, Percy," she said with a nod of gratitude, making her way into the kitchen. It seemed that a majority of dinner had already been had, as only a few Weasleys were at the table, and most plates had been cleared. Mrs. Weasley was enjoying a cup of tea while trying to feed some orange mash to Victoire, and Fred and George were huddled up on one end of the table to go over some products.
"Hermione, lovely to see you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, hardly sparing her a glance from her granddaughter. Hermione couldn't blame her - Victoire was a darling.
"I hope you don't mind, I didn't feel like trying to cook something for myself this evening," Hermione said as she sat beside the matriarch, maneuvering around Teddy who seemed hell-bent on hanging on from her neck, Percy fluttering near the sink for some reason. It was easy to lose track of what someone was doing in that house, as there were constantly a million things going on at once. Hermione hardly cared though - she nearly welcomed the familiar chaos.
"She wouldn't have made you a plate if she'd minded, Granger," one of the twins called from down the table, and Hermione shot a cheeky glare down to their grins.
"Can I have green beans?" Teddy asked as he settled in Hermione's lap, staring intently at her plate.
"What's the magic word?" she asked, although she was already spearing the legumes onto the tines of her fork. At Teddy's mispronounced "please," they were deposited into his eager mouth.
"I noticed your hand on the clock, figured you needed a home cooked meal," Molly continued.
"Err - " Percy finally interrupted, and Hermione looked up at him as she managed to get a few bites in her own mouth rather than Teddy's. "Were you expecting something from the Minister?"
Hermione shot him a curious glance, shaking her head while she chewed. She glanced to his hands - it was the Minister's stationary, alright. She reached for it, puzzled at the appearance of a second letter in Percy's hands, which was addressed to him, and a third on the counter addressed to Arthur - who was still tinkering in his shed if the light out there was anything to go by.
They opened them at the same time, and for Percy's nervousness Hermione had the sneaking suspicion he was thinking of pink slips and budget cuts.
However, the embossed calligraphy found a different way to make Hermione's blood turn cold.
"We have to go to the Ministry," Hermione insisted, hoisting Teddy out of her lap and depositing him in her chair, Percy's pale and shaking face nodding along beside her. Molly and the twins watched anxiously as the two nearly bolted to the Floo, Percy calling for someone to fetch their father and insist he join them.
After several long hours shouting over other Ministry workers and department heads, Hermione and Percy - and eventually Arthur - had managed an audience with the Minister.
Soon, Shacklebolt was explaining things simply, insisting that it wasn't his decision and it was out of his hands. It was from the Wizengamot themselves, all of the young, new thinking individuals, and then Malfoy's uninterested face was getting yelled at.
"If you'd listen," Malfoy said with a small, tired sigh. "You'd know that none of us came up with it either."
The matter had gotten passed to the Unspeakables, who refused to release their reasoning for anything, until Luna Lovegood had marched to the front of them and smiled pleasantly at Hermione's hair.
"The magical population is depleting, and if birth rates and breeding patterns continue, it will snuff itself out in a matter of decades," she explained before taking on dreamily, "Your aura is a lovely fuschia, Hermione. Good things are coming to you."
By the time the three had returned to the Burrow, the sun was rising, and all hell had broken loose.
"Calm down, calm down," Bill insisted as his tired father, brother and friend collapsed against dining chairs. "Let them explain, before knickers get twisted any further."
Hermione stared at the wood grain, feeling every eye on her, and was content to collapse in on herself before a tiny body climbed up and into her lap, facing her to press his face into her shoulders.
"He wouldn't go to bed until he saw you were okay," Harry said, a tired but pleased smile on his face as Hermione held onto her godson and grounded herself.
"You okay?" Teddy asked. Hermione pressed her face into his hair, smiling at the pale pink he adopted, because he knew it was her favorite, and kissed his forehead.
"Off to bed, you," she said, standing and making her way to the stairs, avoiding the shocked and confused Weasleys as Teddy smiled back at her, "You're far past your bedtime."
After tucking Teddy in to one of the twins' old beds, making a few whispered promises that she was alright, that things were fine, and that she loved him very, very much, Hermione made her way back to the kitchen.
"It isn't from the Minister or the Wizengamot," she heard Percy explaining before she rounded the corner and leaned against the doorframe.
"Who's it from, then?" Ron asked, "The Aurors didn't hear about this."
"You will," Arthur insisted with a sigh. "Probably along with the Prophet, if I had to guess."
"So, what?" George asked, scratching at his head with a glare, "Do we just - just go along with it?"
"For the time being," Hermione said quietly, staring at the cracked tile in the floor. She was sure there was a story with that - there was a story with nearly everything in the house, it seemed. "Until the Unspeakables know more."
"In the meantime, between now and the Prophet's arrival, I must attend to an urgent matter," Percy insisted as he checked his watch, grimacing at its face before nodding and popping away.
"It affects unmarried individuals, yes?" Ginny asked, sharing a cautious glance at Hermione's face.
"Yes," she said with a short, heartless laugh. "Married or engaged to be married - everyone else…"
"Fuck," Fred announced, eloquently, sharing a look with George as Molly shot him a half-hearted glare.
"Got it by a week," Ron murmured in surprise, thinking of his engagement to Lavender Brown just a week ago.
"It isn't about you, you numpty!" Ginny exploded, hands on her hips as she stood to shout at her brother, "It's about Charlie, Percy, Fred and George - Hermione! They'll be affected by this - this marriage law nonsense!"
And it was nonsense, Hermione decided. Marriage between a pureblood and someone who wasn't a pureblood was now mandated, and decided, and even when to pop out an offspring was dictated.
"I know that!" Ron shouted back, "I was just saying - !"
Harry made his way to Hermione while the others seemed to join in on the shouting or sitting back to watch, placing his hands on her shoulders and steadying her.
"Let's get you to bed," he said, echoing her words with a sad smile, "It's past your bedtime."
So Hermione let herself be carted off to bed, tiredly snuggling up to Teddy and finding comfort in his tiny snores, dozing off into a peaceful sleep that spoke nothing of the future.