Chapter 2:

Realising Things

Strangely enough, when faced with the prospect of seeing her friends and revealing her secrets, Hermione wasn't worried. She usually thought everything through, made the occasional pro-con list and read as much as she could on the subject. But returning felt right. Five years previously, she'd made the lists and done the research, and, while all signs pointed to staying, she'd elected to leave.

Now, it was time to return.

Jacqui Granger poked her head in the door of her daughter's room. Her hair was beginning to grey at the roots, but its chocolate-y colour was reminiscent of Hermione's. "Darling, are you sure you don't want us to post you your things? I was just at the post office and they said that they can be shipped over and arrive within the next few weeks."

"It's fine, Mum," Hermione said, shaking her head with a smile before indicating the small handbag into which she was emptying her bookshelf.

"Magic!" The older woman chuckled, walking back down the hallway. It had been years, but magic was still a novelty in the Granger home.

Mother and son floo'd to the Burrow on New Year's Morning with their trunks firmly secured in Hermione's handbag, extended to fit their belongings from Australia. The kitchen was (surprisingly) empty and Hermione made Alec some toast, seating him at the table, before searching for the Weasleys.

George was sprawled across the sofa, asleep and drooling, while his wife Angelina was curled up in a nearby armchair in a slightly more dignified manner. Both were looking slightly older than Hermione remembered, but she'd been able to see the occasional photo and piece of news in the past five years, so they didn't look too different. Empty bottles of Firewhiskey littered the table and floor. What an evening the Weasleys must have had. Bill and Fleur's door was shut and Hermione didn't especially want to see anything she oughtn't by going inside. Charlie's door was open, but the room was empty, bed unmade, clothes strewn across the room. She didn't want to know the details of why a red bra was tangled in the ceiling fan.

A commotion on the stairs above caused Hermione to look up.

"I'm a grown man, Mum! I'm allowed to share the bathroom with my girlfriend if I so wish," Charlie protested to his glaring mother. Molly pointed her finger at him.

"Both of you will be downstairs within the next ten minutes and if I ever catch you doing... that in my bathroom again, you will not be returning to this house. I want everyone downstairs befor-"

Molly paused. As she gestured downstairs, she'd turned and caught sight of Hermione a dozen steps below, failing to stifle her laughter.

"Hermione!" She pulled Hermione into a tight hug. Things never change, Hermione grinned, returning the embrace. "How are you? How was your trip back? Where have you been? I'm sure it was wonderful..."

"Uh..."

"Come to the kitchen, I'll make a late breakfast."

Charlie scuttled back into the bathroom, glad to escape. The sound of rushing of water and a high-pitched giggle carried through the closing door.

Molly and Hermione made their way downstairs, making small talk. Ron was coming after lunch, as he had had to work the night before. The arrival of the Potters, including the newest Potter, James, was imminent, and Arthur was tinkering outside in his shed. The family was all going to be here, then. "Along with some new friends," Molly added.

It was nice to be home.

What Hermione had failed to mention to Molly was that she had a companion. Upon their arrival in the kitchen, Alec looked up questioningly from Quidditch Through The Ages, probably one of the many copies belonging to the Weasleys. Molly turned to Hermione with a similar look, "Now, who is this?"

"Mummy?"

"Mummy?!" Ginny gasped, standing in the open door. Harry stood behind her, half-blocked by the one-year-old in his arms, but gaping.

Alec frowned and turned back to his book. Hermione placed her hands on his shoulders, "This is my son Alec."

"You... your... you... son?"

"Welcome to the Burrow, Alec," Molly smiled, taking his empty plate and putting it in the sink. "Do you want to have a look around? I can show you if you would like."

Alec smiled shyly in return. The boy looked in askance at his mother, who nodded, and he took Molly's proffered hand. They wandered off and the kitchen was silent, the pair's chattering fading into the distance.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ginny shot Harry a look and he amended, "...tell us?"

"It was straight after the war, people would think it was you or Ron. I didn't want that sort of pressure to be put on any of us, least of all Alec. I wanted him to have a nice, normal childhood."

Ginny nodded understandingly. She and Harry had waited a few years for that very reason. Their roles in the war would never be forgotten, but the notoriety had dulled, much as Hermione believed it would. "We're glad you're back."

"So am I. I want to hear all about your lives. Your wedding, James, everything!" Hermione sank into Alec's chair.

Harry went into the other room and woke George and Angelina, placing his son in the care of at least one hungover person. It was a good way to teach them not to drink so much, Hermione chuckled to herself. Ginny sat down beside Hermione and grinned, "So... where should I begin?"

After discussing the important events of their lives for more than an hour, one topic had still not been broached by Ginny or Harry. Hermione had similarly tried to avoid the topic.

"Hermione," Harry began hesitantly. "Where's Alec's father?"

"Who's Alec's father?" Ginny added more eagerly than her husband.

Hermione grimaced. She knew the question would come up eventually, and she was surprised that it had taken her friends this long to ask, but Hermione wasn't exactly sure how she would respond. There was the blanket answer she'd had for the five years in Australia: her (non-existent) husband, Thomas Smith, had died in a car accident, she'd gone back to her maiden name and was raising Alec with her parents' help. There was the answer she'd prepared to tell the general wizarding world: she'd secretly married the father during the war and, upon his death, decided to protect his son and his identity by moving to Australia. But Harry and Ginny, and Ron, when he arrived, deserved an element of the truth, if not the whole truth.

"Before I left, I was dating someone. We broke up a few days after the Battle of Hogwarts and it wasn't exactly amicable. When I found out I was pregnant a week after that, I didn't want to have to face him all the time. I'd had an inclination that I was pregnant in the last days of our relationship but I wasn't sure and I didn't tell him. Back then, I thought about what I would want for my child. Would I want my child to have a childhood, a life of notoriety? Or would I give them the life they deserve? One of normalcy. Those thoughts already in my head, when I found out, I knew what I wanted to do. That day, I spoke to my parents and told them I was coming to visit. I sent you the letters and left."

Ginny, who had been gasping intermittently throughout Hermione's speech and leaning further and further forward, fell back against her chair. Harry reached across the table and grasped Hermione's hand.

"Thank you for telling us."

Hermione's lips twisted into a ghost of a smile, her eyes shining slightly with unspent tears.

At least they didn't press her on the identity of Alec's father. Hermione had no idea what she would have said.

The party passed in a more upbeat tone.

People asked questions, some of which Hermione answered, but they soon moved onto genuine conversation. It wasn't difficult for her to get back into the groove, although the occasional event or relationship mentioned was surprising to her.

"R-Ron... and and and Pansy?"

"They've been together a few months. You'd think they'd tear each other's throat out, but they're actually really cute," Ginny laughed.

"Oi! A man does not appreciate being called cute!" Harry poked his wife in the side.

"Ron and Pansy, though," Ginny beseeched him.

He laughed, "They are pretty..." Ginny began to grin, "...well suited."

Ginny sighed and her husband wrapped an arm around her waist, "Why don't we go see where the cake is?"

"Cake?" Ginny perked up, dragging Harry toward the kitchen.

Hermione chuckled, sipping at her white wine. Alec was playing with the other magical children and his mother couldn't keep a smile off her face. This was right. It was what was supposed to happen. He would be so happy here. The children were crowded around a crouching man, hidden by their clustered bodies, and even Hermione, across the yard, could clearly hear, "Let me on the broomstick!" "No, let me on!" Alec stood near the outside. Although she'd educated him on the general aspects of the wizarding world, and had demonstrated more than a few spells, Hermione was not a good flyer. Alec had never ridden on a broom, nor had he seen a magical one. Despite not being able to see the man, she could see the broom he was holding up. It was a children's one, and it was extremely safe... she'd researched it a while ago, in case Alec ever asked to try. If Alec wasn't chosen, she ought to ask Harry if he'd take her son up one day soon.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a yell, "Mummy! Mummy! I'm going to fly on a broom!"

Alec had run halfway across the yard, made his pronouncement, and was already sprinting back, a huge grin on his face. Her little boy was growing up, Hermione thought, both happy and miserable at the thought.

The man holding the broom stood and turned to face Alec, who was still a good distance away. Instead, his eyes met Hermione's and widened perceptibly. She gasped in recognition. He was tall, his build slightly thicker than when she last saw him. His hair was the same pale shade of blond, although his skin was slightly more tanned than his ashen pallor from their school days. His lips weren't twisted into his former smirk, but an easy smile, which fell when their eyes met. He looked older, and more attractive, than the last time she'd seen him. The past five years have treated him well, Hermione thought, an unwelcome feeling settling in her stomach. It was then that she realised something else.

Draco Malfoy was about to give her son a flying lesson.