Chapter 7

Hermione awoke the next morning with an actual smile on her face. The previous day had been so unexpectedly pleasant it had kept the nightmares that she still suffered from all too frequently at bay. But she was still nervous about the birthday party; Ron and Lavender would be there and that rarely led to a pleasant experience for her.

Also, things were a bit frosty between Harry and most of the Weasleys at the moment, which meant that things were also frosty between herself and most of the Weasleys, because she hadn't been shy about throwing her support firmly behind her best friend when he and Ginny had announced their intention to divorce; her relationship with the other woman had deteriorated so much over the years that it was pointless to try and remain neutral.

Nevertheless, she was looking forward to a girls' night with Hannah and Susan Bones that night, and then to seeing Draco and Scorpius the next day. And that made it easier to be cheerful and optimistic. She especially hoped Draco could find a house he liked quickly. Once she'd begun thinking about it, the idea of an innocent baby living in Malfoy Manor just gave her the creeps.

Almost as soon as she entered her kitchen to make tea there was a tapping at the window. Thinking it was a bit early for the Daily Prophet, she was surprised but pleased when she saw it was a delivery owl carrying yet another stunning bouquet of flowers. She took them and removed the note. Of course, the flowers were from Draco. The note was just a simple thing saying how much he had enjoyed her company the previous evening and was looking forward to seeing her the next day. But it was in his handwriting, making it just that much more thoughtful. Because even if he'd simply sent an elf to the florist, he had taken the time to write the note himself. She smiled to herself and carried the flowers back to her bedroom. The arrangement from earlier in the week was already decorating her living room. This unexpected gesture had put her in a good enough mood that she could manage to wait to have tea until she arrived at Harry's.

She dressed in jeans and a casual but- she hoped- flattering jumper. She knew that Molly wouldn't approve; she found all muggle clothing to be overly revealing, but she especially disapproved of the figure hugging denims that Hermione favored when she wasn't at work. Well, she was finished catering to another person's preconceptions, her lunch with Draco had been a powerful lesson in reminding her how good it felt to stand up for herself. There were some ways in which that woman was as old fashioned as even the staunchest of old-school purebloods. But the fact was that every child who would be in attendance- and most of the adults- had regular interaction with the muggle world, her attire would be nothing but normal to them, certainly not risqué. And she was done quibbling with Molly Weasley over things which were none of her concern.

Hermione pulled her hair back into a loose chignon in preparation for a day full of children with sticky hands that could easily get caught in her curls if she didn't take precautions. After that she put on the watch that she almost always wore. And, after a bit of thought, she added the diamond stud earrings that had been a gift from her parents when she'd gotten her- record breaking- N.E.W.T. scores. And then, on a whim, she took one of the roses from the arrangement Draco had sent and stuck it into her hair so that it adorned the side of the chignon.

She arrived at Grimmauld Place a little earlier than she'd planned, but she knew Harry and the boys would be awake. Again, she marched straight to the library and found the same book she'd come looking for on Tuesday. She was more than a little surprised that Harry had returned it to its rightful place. After retrieving it she made her way to the kitchen.

"Good morning boys!" She positively beamed as the door swung open to reveal Harry still in his pajamas with comically mussed hair, standing at the stove; James was at the table and Albus was in his highchair, their hair as messy as their father's.

"Morning Aunt Hermione!" James sang, his voice still sleep roughened.

"Somebody's in a good mood," Harry turned briefly to glance at her, and his eyes fell to the book in her hand, "more flowers?" He questioned.

"Yes." She knew she was grinning stupidly, but she couldn't help it.

Harry just shook his head knowingly. "Well, let's hear what he has to say this time," he made a sweeping gesture towards the table, indicating that she should sit, and turned back to the stove, "I'm listening," he said.

She flipped through the pages and couldn't help but appreciate the scent of an aged book, even as she was anxious for answers. "Okay, the arrangement has pink roses, lily of the valley, and violets. According to this, pink roses indicate grace, perfect happiness, and thankfulness." She flipped quickly to find the next one and nearly gave an uncharacteristic squeal when she did. "Lily of the valley means sweetness, humility, and return to happiness." She bit her lip as she considered if she wanted to say the next bit out loud, but she needed Harry's advice. "It can also be used to say that 'you've made my life complete.'"

Harry turned around to stare at her- eyes wide, mouth ajar- when she said that and she hurried to find the final flower.

"Purple violets show watchfulness, faithfulness, and also say that 'I'll always be true.'" She closed the book and sat back to look at Harry who was still gaping at her. Her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird's wings in her chest. "What?" She asked, though she knew.

"Good Godric, Mione, the bloke's got it bad!"

"I don't know that he necessarily means it romantically, he's made it clear that he could really use a friend," she protested half-heartedly.

Harry snorted. "When was the last time a friend sent you flowers?" He parroted her words from earlier in the week.

She sighed. "I just don't see how he can be serious. I mean, it's one thing to have a change in attitude about blood status, it's another to date a muggle born," she pushed thoughts of the tender way he'd held her in the restaurant and then later in her flat, out of her head. "And what about his parents?" She again reminded him of the most obvious obstacle.

"I take it you haven't talked about any of that?"

She sighed. They'd talked about many things over the course of the past week (had it really only been a week?) including several of a very personal nature. But looking back on it, there were also several issues that they were very obviously skirting. The war for one, his parents, and then the whole subject of what exactly was going on between them. It was as if they'd reached a detente that they were both afraid to break. However, she had to acknowledge that if he kept making these grand gestures suggesting he wanted more, that they would have to talk. She needed to know if their relationship could survive a frank discussion about sensitive issues before her heart got too involved.

"You need to," Harry insisted.

"I know," she conceded, "that's what I was just thinking."

"For what it's worth, while I certainly don't claim to be an expert on the subject, I've been around Malfoy long enough and I've seen how he behaves- in the Wizengamot especially- to know that he's a meticulous man. He's careful, and usually rather reserved; I don't think he would be doing all this if he didn't mean it. If for no other reason than you're a powerful woman, he would be stupid to toy with you, and he isn't stupid. That said, if he is messing with you or if he has anything less than honorable intentions, I'll kill him," he pointed the spatula he was holding in her direction for emphasis.

Hermione huffed out a laugh. She would have scolded him or reminded him that she could certainly take care of herself, but she knew it would be a waste of breath. Then there was the fact that his defensiveness made her feel loved. She was again reminded of the way Draco had stood up for her and admitted to herself that, perhaps, she could allow others that privilege. She had so many people who loved her, maybe it was foolish to try and fight all of her own battles.

"Okay," she agreed.

He looked at her in obvious shock but quickly recovered. "Whatever's going on with you, I think it's great," he admitted, holding her gaze quite determinedly. "Whether it's Malfoy or something else. You're so smart, so capable, but I haven't seen you look this confident...ever."

They were quiet for a few minutes while Harry finished cooking; then she helped him plate up the food and serve the boys, before they sat down to eat.

"Where did the two of you go to lunch yesterday that you weren't seen?" He asked curiously between bites of eggs, rightly assuming that if the two of them had been spotted out together that it would have made the Prophet.

"I took him to that French place by Mum and Dad's that I like so much."

Harry dropped his fork. "Draco Malfoy ate in a muggle restaurant," he deadpanned, "and the Statute of Secrecy remains intact?" He questioned sarcastically.

She laughed freely, as if she hadn't been astounded by the same thing just the day before. "He did very well. He actually let me transfigure his robes without complaining and it turns out he knows all about muggle wine, he picked our bottle, and then-" she cut herself off.

"And then what?" He asked.

She really should have known better than to try and keep things from Harry.

"He and Scorpius came over last night. We walked to the video shop in my neighborhood, picked out a movie, and then stopped to get a pizza. I could tell he was a bit overwhelmed, but he never complained. I actually think he had fun," she admitted begrudgingly. Not because she was ashamed, but a gloating Harry was an annoying Harry.

However, he didn't react as she expected, he just stared at her. "I'm going to go back to my original statement and say that he's got it bad."

She snorted.

"Seriously Hermione, all that time in the muggle world? That had to be seriously outside of his comfort zone. He did that for you," he emphasized, somehow managing to simultaneously look uncomfortable but also to beam at her with happiness. "I have no idea what I'm doing, advocating for Malfoy. I must love you a lot." He looked at her, his expression morphing into the picture of comic disbelief.

She kissed his cheek and sighed. Because it was becoming increasingly difficult to deny how much she wanted Harry's assertions to be true.

They ate the last of their meals in contemplative silence. As they cleaned up after breakfast Harry turned to Hermione, his face creased with worry. "Do you think I did the right thing, hosting the birthday party here? Maybe I should have just let Molly have her way and done it at the Burrow."

She had wondered when his nerves were going to emerge and was frankly surprised it had taken this long. She'd been waiting for him to ask her that question since he'd confided that he wanted to have the party in his own home and not turn it over to the Weasley matriarch.

"I think Albus is your son and that you should do what you think is best. Too many people just give Molly her way. We both know that she means well, but she raised her children already, James and Albus are yours. I also think that tensions are high right now. This is already awkward, but I think you'd be completely uncomfortable at the Burrow at the moment. If you're uncomfortable we both know the boys will be able to sense it and be uncomfortable too. As far as I'm concerned the only thing that matters is that they have fun."

She could only imagine how difficult this was for Harry. Tensions between herself and Molly Weasley had been high for years. Truthfully, she'd never been enveloped into the family fold as completely as Harry had been, so she was used to it. But until he declared his intention to divorce her daughter, Molly had truly treated Harry as a seventh son. She didn't believe in divorce at all and couldn't understand how Harry and Ginny would even consider it.

She loved Harry, but in the end blood won out and she took her daughter's side. The fact that Harry had filed for- and was granted- primary custody of the boys was just another strike against him. Given that Harry had always been the boys' primary caregiver while Ginny, with her professional quidditch career, spent much of the year travelling, Hermione thought it made perfect sense that he retain custody. However Molly, who'd stayed home to raise seven children, couldn't understand that it might not be best for her grandsons to live with their mother.

Hermione was fairly sure that Ginny only filed for custody at her mother's urging. She and Ginny had their issues but Hermione would freely admit that the younger woman was a good mother and she knew that her boys were in good hands with Harry while she was away. But few people were able to stand strong against the tornado that was Molly Weasley with a cause. It was a testament to just how much Harry loved his children that he was willing to go to battle against the only mother he'd ever really known for them.

Frankly, she thought that Harry throwing this party on his own terms was as important for the purpose of making a statement as it was for anything else. She had high hopes for Harry: that he would fall in love again and get remarried. He deserved all the good things the world had to offer, but she didn't think the chances of a new woman finding a place in his life were very high if he was under the thumb of his ex-mother-in-law.

Harry nodded absentmindedly at her statement.

"I mean even Ginny thought it was best to hold the party here," she reiterated what he'd told her several weeks before.

Ginny was in the middle of a few weeks of intense post-season quidditch training, and she was especially dedicated given that she was still trying to come back from the time she'd taken off during her pregnancy and subsequent maternity leave with Albus. She was in no state to host the party herself, and Hermione could only imagine that she wanted to avoid the Burrow. From what Hermione had witnessed, as much as Molly had nagged Harry about the divorce, she'd been worse with her own daughter.

His smile was brittle. "Ha!" He scoffed. "The first thing we've agreed to in a long time."

"I thought you two were getting along better?" She asked gently

"We are," he exhaled. "We are. If anything I'm certain now that the divorce was the right thing to do. We can at least talk to each other without it dissolving into an argument."

"That's good," she said quietly.

Harry's divorce, in many ways, had been a relief, but it had broken his heart, and so it had broken hers as well. In the end they were all broken. This post-war generation. So many had gotten married so young, eager to latch onto anything good in the aftermath of the darkness. And now divorces were at an all time high, even though Draco's situation remained an anomaly among purebloods.

"She calls every night," Harry interrupted her thoughts, "talks to the boys, but we've been talking some too. It makes me remember how we used to be. It makes me miss her."

"Oh Harry. Of course you do," she took his hands in hers, hoping to lend some comfort. "It might be easier if you didn't, but it would also be kind of terrible."

"What do you mean?"

"You miss her because you loved her, I'm sure part of you always will. If you didn't it would mean that she never meant that much to you, and isn't that worse?" She explained, thinking of Draco, a loveless marriage sounded terrible. "And I'm sad for you that it's over, but I'm happy that you shared that with her. That you had that time together, most of which was happy, and that you made those beautiful boys with her."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I definitely wouldn't change that."

They stood there in silence, the only sound in the room was that of those precious children babbling in the background, for several long minutes.

"I just hope things go well," he eventually confessed.

"I'm sure they will, everybody will behave, for the sake of the kids if nothing else. Ginny is taking the boys for the rest of the weekend?" She clarified, uncertain if plans had changed.

"Yeah, they're pretty excited, at least James is. I don't think Albus understands, though he perks up everytime I say something about Mummy. I just hope it doesn't confuse them, going back to the house for the night when they've been settling in so well here."

Ginny had asked for and been given the house that they'd lived in their entire married lives in the divorce settlement. Hermione got the impression that Harry had been glad to give it up, it was more Ginny's dream home than his.

"They'll have fun with Ginny and then they'll be thrilled to come home to you on Monday," she reassured him with a small smile. She had no hesitation in making that assurance; Harry's children, rightly, adored him.

They finished up the dishes in silence. She turned to leave the kitchen in order to get the rest of the house in order for guests like she knew Harry prefered, but was stopped by the sound of his voice.

"Mione?" He called pitifully.

She turned back to look at him, immediately concerned. He was leaning over the sink and he had his arms braced against it, he almost looked like he was in pain. When he turned his head and met her eyes she felt like her heart was breaking.

"What is it?" She asked breathlessly.

"Is this how you felt when you and Ron broke up? Because if so, then I'm sorry, I wasn't there for you in the way that I should have been."

She sighed. "I wasn't married to Ron. I didn't have children with him. What he did hurt me, but we both made some huge mistakes. And I don't think it can compare to trying to separate a shared life."

"Molly was," he stopped and took a deep breath, "Molly was cruel to you. So was Ron, but that goes without saying. I should have stood up for you," he insisted.

Ron and Hermione's breakup had been the definition of messy. His infidelity had been the final nail in the coffin, but trouble had been brewing since the beginning. Looking back on it, Hermione had to admit that they'd never had any business entering into a romantic relationship in the first place, and probably wouldn't have if they'd had a normal adolescence. They simply weren't suited.

Just weeks into their relationship Ron was already considering marriage and even asked permission from Hermione's parents for her hand; it did not go over well when her parents expressed their concern about the speed at which their relationship was moving. It was even worse that she'd agreed with them. She was forced to admit to her boyfriend that she had no intention of getting married in the near future, and nothing was really the same after that. Not with their romance, and unfortunately, not with their friendship either.

The first time they almost broke up was only weeks after that when Hermione had declared that she was returning to Hogwarts to complete her education and would not be joining Ron and Harry in auror training even after she finished school. Ron had felt abandoned and Hermione had been unable to understand how he didn't understand her position- she'd made it abundantly clear from the time they were eleven that her education was paramount. Furthermore, she had never expressed any interest in being an auror. As far as she was concerned the conclusion of the war was the end of her dark-wizard-hunting days. Ron had been adamant that she was selfishly breaking up a perfect team.

It continued on in that vein for almost three years until she caught him in bed in his flat- the fact that she wouldn't move in with him had been another point of contention- with Lavender Brown. Their breakup was destined to be difficult enough- given that they shared a best friend who was also married to Ron's sister- without Molly inserting herself into the situation. While he was clearly in the wrong in cheating on her, even back then she could admit that she hadn't been invested in the relationship the way she should have been. Still, she never expected Molly to hold her responsible.

However, the older woman made it clear that she thought Hermione's dedication to her career, and her unwillingness to commit to Ron fully through marriage had essentially driven him into the arms of another. According to Molly, Hermione had nobody to blame but herself, and Ron had been all but justified in his actions. It had been a crushing blow to her already bruised heart.

"That wasn't your responsibility Harry, I can take care of myself. You had your own relationship to worry about," she shook herself out of her memories and tried to comfort him. She had been hurt by a lot of people over that situation, but she'd never considered him to be one of them.

Harry just looked at her carefully and then held out his arms. She walked into them without hesitation. Even after fifteen years of friendship he rarely initiated hugs (one day she was going to hunt the Dursleys down and curse them, she really was) and she was eager to assure him of her affection.

It was still a good day.

Author's Note: All the love in the world to Weestarmeggie for beta reading, I truly think she's been spending more time helping me with my stories lately than working on her own. You are awesome and I love you, babe! The rest of you are also awesome and I'm so happy you seem to be enjoying this! Thanks for reading.