Chapter 2: Asked Out

It was the end of a busy day at the Ministry. Hermione Granger Weasley was just finishing up some paperwork at her desk. Eyes falling onto a picture frame, she lightly touched it, a sad smile coming across her face as she recalled her wedding day.

She had fallen in love with her husband, Ron Weasley, when she was a little girl. A few years after Hogwarts and the war, the couple married in a Christmas wedding, and later had two children - a girl, Rose, and a boy, Hugo. Her son had graduated from Hogwarts himself the previous spring; it was such a shame that Ron had not been there to see it.

The cancer had come from nowhere. Within six months of the diagnosis, Ron was gone, during the blazing hot summer of 2021.

Now, more than four years later, Hermione was an empty-nester, and feeling the loneliness of her position as a widow deeply. Many friends and colleagues had encouraged her to go out again and find someone new - she was only 46, after all.

And perhaps she was starting to take her friends' advice to heart subconsciously, if her dream last night was any indication. The dream about the young woman, Rey, kissing that handsome pilot, Poe. It was the same dream she had had every night for the last three weeks. Was it trying to tell her that she should let a little romance back into her life again? She wasn't sure.

A shadow appeared over her desk, and she glanced up with a smile at its owner. "Ready to go, Hermione?" Her brother-in-law, Harry Potter, had been her saving grace these last four years, staying by her side and comforting her and the children. They had been best friends since first year at Hogwarts, and at least they could share some pain together: Harry had divorced his wife, Ginny, five years ago. The parting had not been a friendly one, and had been a long time coming, too.

"Of course, Harry." But as Hermione made to stand up from her desk and gather herself, another figure came running up to her cubicle.

"Oi, Hermione! Can I have a word?"

Hermione regarded her colleague, Cormac McLaggen, skeptically. He had taken an interest in her back in school, around sixth year, before she and Ron were together. One date with him had told her all she needed to know about him. But nearly thirty years on...

Cormac was glancing at Harry pointedly, the latter refusing to budge. He only did so when Hermione sent him a gentle glance and asked him to wait out in the hall. Once Harry was out of sight, Cormac turned to Hermione earnestly, suddenly looking nervous.

"I was wondering: are you doing anything this weekend?"

"Getting ready for the holidays. Why?"

"Well... fancy a drink with me in the Leaky?"

And there it was. Hermione was at first tempted to say No. But then that dream from the night before gave her pause. Here was a chance to go on a date for the first time in who knows how long. And maybe in the ensuing years... Cormac had changed. There was only one way to find out.

"Yes, all right then. Saturday?"

Cormac lit up like the Christmas trees currently in season. "Brilliant! I'll owl you!" And he headed for the lifts with a spring in his step.

No sooner had he left than Harry rounded the corner. "You actually said Yes to that prat?" He actually sounded angry.

Hermione shrugged. "It might be nice to give him another chance, Harry. It's just drinks!"

"Need I remind you: he was an ass in school! And he still is now! The man's so pathetic, he practically needs someone to wipe his bum for him!"

"What are you getting so hot and bothered about, Harry?"

"I'm just trying to protect my sister-in-law!"

"Well, don't! I'm a grown woman with two grown children, Harry! I can handle myself!" Sighing, she threw her Muggle cell phone into her handbag. "Come on. Let's go home."