Ch 90: Mothering Sunday

It was not quite dawn when Hermione awoke to an incessant tapping noise. She heard Ron groan in protest at the sound, and somehow her brain awoke enough to realize it wasn't part of her dream but was actually an owl at the bedroom window. Realizing Ron was not going to wake up, she moved his arm off of her and went to crack the window.

"Good morning, little one," she said to the owl. "Is that for me? I am sorry we don't have any treats up here. If you want to wait a while I'll go down for breakfast in a bit."

The owl hooted indignantly and flew off into the pre-dawn sky. She smiled at the familiar scrawl on the envelope and felt almost homesick for her daughter.

"Happy Mother's Day." She heard Ron mutter from the bed.

"Thank you," she said. "Sorry the owl woke you. I should have remembered last night to leave it cracked in case she sent a pre-dawn message like last year.

"Come back to bed? Please?"

"Ok, but I want to read this first," she said as she opened the envelope. She scanned the note from her daughter, and her eyes welled with tears.

Dear Mum, I hope you have a wonderful day today. I miss you every day, but today more than usual. You are the most amazing mum – you raised me on your own and now you have been amazing for Hugo as well. I love Hogwarts, but I miss you. I'm so glad it's just another month until I am home for Easter holidays. This time maybe you and I can sneak off for a girls' day or something. I love Dad and Hugo, but well, between them and Al and Scorp, I could use a day of manicures and shopping I think. If you look out the window now, my astronomy professor says you should be able to see Mars. Know that I am looking at it right now as well, so really we are together. Makes me not miss you so much on your special day. I love you, Rose

"Are you crying?"

"Maybe," she sniffed.

"Rose ok?"

"Yeah. She's perfect. I'm just missing her. Proud of her, but missing her."

"Come here," he said gently, and she curled up in his arms, letting her tears of pride and joy at the young woman Rose had become mix with the sadness of having her so far away.

They both dozed off again, but were soon awoken by Hugo carrying a tray of tea, a banana and crumpets with butter.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mum," he announced.

"Hugo, what's this?"

"Breakfast in bed. Rose said I needed to do it. Something about a tradition. But she's barmy. She wanted me to make eggs and bacon. It's like she forgets I'm ten. I would either burn down the kitchen, which let's face it – you two have tried already – or I would give you food poisoning by making you eat undercooked eggs. And with as often as you two have ended up at St. Mungo's, I figured crumpets were a safer bet."

Hermione and Ron were both chuckling by the time he finished his explanation, and scooted up in bed so Hugo could snuggle with them. He had cleverly brought enough for each of them to eat, and they enjoyed a lazy hour chatting in bed over buttery crumpets.

"Well, Hugo," Hermione finally said, "Rose should be proud. You did an excellent job. I loved my present of breakfast in bed. Should we get up and head downstairs?"

"Actually, Mum," Hugo said, suddenly less chatty, "that wasn't your real present."

"It wasn't?"

"No. But your real present isn't something I can bring up here for you to unwrap. So – can you wait here while, and well, Dad can you can help with the you know what?"

"Sure thing, little man."

Hugo ran out of the room, his excitement bubbling over. Ron stood up and threw a jumper on over his sleep shirt.

"Do you know what he is up to?"

"Oh yeah. He's been working quite hard on it. And, uh, you should probably put some tissues in your pocket."

"It's going to make me cry?"

"Odds are strong," he laughed, and he leaned over to kiss her before he headed downstairs.

She got out of bed and went to the loo, washing her face and pulling her hair back into a hair tie. She read the card from Rose again, and when she teared up again she remembered she needed to find some tissues. She had just found some tissues when Hugo was yelling up the stairs.

"OK MUM. YOU CAN COME DOWNSTAIRS FOR YOUR PRESENT NOW!"

Hermione chuckled. While Hugo was often wise beyond his years, she was glad that there were still many moments when he was definitely still a ten year old boy.

She headed downstairs, unsure of exactly what she was walking into. When she reached the bottom step, she saw Hugo grinning, so excited that he was practically bouncing on his tip toes. Ron was smiling, as he gestured his head toward the giant bow on the wall. Confused, she looked at the giant green bow that was wrapped around the door to Dennis and Fi's old office.

"You made me a big green bow?" she asked, earnestly confused.

"No, silly! The bow is on the present. You have to open the door."

"Ok," she said hesitantly, knowing that none of them had been in there in basically two years so it could be almost like a time capsule where Hugo could go in the room and feel close to his late parents.

She opened the door, and she gasped, hand to her mouth and tears immediately in her eyes. The office didn't look anything like it had the last time she had been in there. Dennis and Fiona's pictures and books had been cleared out, the furniture had been changed, the walls painted, and her books and files and photographs now decorated the room. The office had desks on both long walls, one clearly for her and one for Ron, and the smaller wall across from the door held a printer and other office necessities. Above her desk they had hung different awards, with her letter from the royal family hung proudly in the center. There were also family pictures, including her parents, the four of them, the whole Weasley family and some with the Creeveys too. The old office chairs had been replaced with new, stylish office chairs – one small enough to fit her frame and the other perfect for Ron. She was at a loss for words, but realized Hugo was desperately waiting for her reaction.

"Hugo! Oh my goodness! This is amazing! When on earth did you do this?"

"Well, Ron helped me. We wanted to go through everything to be sure we kept the important stuff – and we did. But we asked Grandma Jean to get you out of the way last weekend so we could finish it all up."

"My mum was in on it?"

"Yeah. She and I like plotting things together."

"Clearly."

"It was fun. Do you like it?"

"Like it? Heavens no, I absolutely love it! But, are you sure this is what you want?"
she asked, tearing up more now.

Hugo nodded and hugged her tightly. "I love you, Mum. You work so hard, and you need a better place to work here because the kitchen table is clearly not cutting it. And, well, it was time. They weren't in the room anymore. I still miss them and love them, but I don't have to sit at their old desks to remember them. I like remembering them with the stories you and Dad tell. And, I told Dad, I am ready to clean out their old bedroom too, but I didn't pull that off for today."

"Oh, Hugo," she said as she hugged him even tighter, and the tears were pouring down his cheeks. "I love you so much. And I am so, so proud of you."

"Love you too, Mum."