Disclaimer: This is all for fun, I do not claim ownership of the characters or anything recognized from the work of JK Rowling. I am only borrowing them.
Warning: Mature themes, subject to change: mild violence, scenes of a sexual nature as well as general innuendo smattered throughout, adult themes including but not limited to death and disease both mental and physical.
*Update as of 8/21/15 - I fixed a continuity error for anyone that previously reviewed this chapter. It mentioned George grieving, but I have chosen for Fred to have survived the Battle of Hogwarts. One of the EWE items, along with Severus. This should read more smoothly now.*
Playlist: Hometown Glory – Adele
Saturday July 16th, 2005 | 10:45 am | Diagon Alley
"James hasn't started to show any extreme cases of adolescent magic, thank Merlin. I don't know how I'd handle him if he were! A small toddler and a drastically overgrown uterus do not mix." Ginny adjusted her bag again as it slid to the side of her pregnant stomach. "At least this go around is a lot easier, I didn't have to deal with morning sickness the way I did with James."
Hermione kept pace next to her on the way to Madam Malkin's; Diagon Alley wasn't quite filled to bursting but as it was a Saturday the crowds were more difficult to navigate than on the weekdays. Ginny parted them like the red sea, using a combination of the son growing inside of her and an imposing glare that she inherited from her mother. Normally Hermione hated to come to Diagon Alley any day of the week but Ginny was making it almost enjoyable as no one dared approach the Potter matriarch. At least, they hadn't since just after James was born and a reporter had tried to snap a quick shot of her firstborn. He had not been able to leave St Mungo's for three days to avoid strangulation by his own bat-shaped bogies.
Ginny took her hand as they passed by Flourish & Blotts to hurry her along, insisting they needed to be on time. The robe shop showed closed except by appointment only and Hermione praised Merlin for it. Ginny tossed her long plait over her shoulder and knocked on the door. With a warm smile and several inane niceties they were taken off the street before anyone noticed they had arrived.
Hermione saw it as less of a fitting and more of an attack by flying pins, clips, needles and thread. The crimson robes were fashioned much like a Professor's robes with a nearly starched stiff undershirt with long sleeves and a hem that ended just past her knees and a silkier outer layer with separate cloth pieces so long they very nearly touched the ground. Suspicion grew in her mind, as these were hardly practical robes for anything more than ceremony. If she were to attempt to brew with these she would be aflame before the first ingredient had come to temperature.
When Madam Malkin had gone to the back of the shop to grab another bolt of fabric, Hermione turned baleful eyes to Ginny who had to stifle a laugh rather ungracefully. "You look like James when I try to get him to eat peas!"
Hermione eyes morphed into an all out scowl. "It's a good thing these robes are already red since I feel as though the pinpricks would dye it otherwise."
"Oh, the melodrama," snickered Ginny. Madam Malkin returned with a shimmering gold fabric that drew her gaze away from her friend, who was currently standing like a scarecrow atop a fitting stool with small needles and threads flying around her body. With a small gasp, she reached out to touch the nearly luminescent fabric as it passed by her. "That's beautiful, Madam Malkin. What is it made of?"
"It's actually Muggle-made," gushed the seamstress. "Instead of magic-woven silk this was hand woven. The time they put into their work is meticulous; the things one can do without magic amazes me."
Ginny ran her hand over the delicate cloth one more time before Madam Malkin used her wand to unravel a few sections. The delicate strips ran along the inside of the outer robe and a few details at the hems of the sleeves and the hood. After nearly another hour of flurries of sharp objects and thread flying about her, Hermione was declared finished.
"I still need to do some rune work on the sleeves. You don't need to stand here for that part, Miss Granger. The Headmistress left me a very specific list of runes to include and I will have them ready for you by next Saturday."
"Then I will be back in one week," Hermione said as she was released from her cotton and silk prison. Hogwarts had already paid for the entire fitting so Ginny and Hermione left as soon as Ginny was able to extricate herself from the plush armchair she had relaxed into.
Diagon Alley's traffic had increased while they were in the private fitting; it had gotten nearly to the point where if you wanted to Apparate away you may take someone Side-Along by accident. She wrapped her arm protectively behind Ginny's back as they stepped off the stoop in front of the robe shop. Ginny didn't even protest as she was guided down the street and back into the Leaky Cauldron then out into Muggle London. Hermione pulled her arm away only when they had left the sight of the swinging black cauldron and released the breath she didn't realized she had been holding.
"What does Albus want for lunch today?" Hermione asked as she rolled down her sleeves to cover her wand sheath on her right arm.
Ginny pointed to a small Italian restaurant with outdoor seating down the road from where they stood. "Harry and I have been there before, they have excellent gnocchi."
Saturday July 16th, 2005 | 1:06 pm | Diagon Alley
Hermione didn't order a glass of pinot noir on Ginny's behalf because the pregnant witch had started muttering profanities under her breath when she saw their excellent wine list. She gently pulled the folder from her friend's grip and rested her arm on top of it for good measure. "Just another month, Gin, then you can have all the wine and seafood your hedonistic heart desires."
"Then you'll have to come over after Albus is born to enjoy those with me." The waiter came by and took their orders and the offending wine list away from the table. "We haven't had a proper night with too much wine and no boys or children in ages. I think this is the first time you and I have seen each other since…at least since the beginning of summer."
Lowering her water glass slowly, Hermione felt her smile slowly frost over as alarms went off inside her head. She was very aware that the last time she had seen Ginny face to face had been the seventh anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts in May. Fighting to keep her tone friendly and not clipped, she said, "No, we haven't. I've been tied up at work with my research, I'm afraid."
Ginny narrowed her eyes at her but just took a sip of water and a bite of gnocchi so Hermione did the same. She was right, it was excellent. "Do you still have University classes, then?"
"Yes, but I just need to sit the finals and I'll be graduating at the end of next month; it won't be anything formal, so don't you start planning one of your 'little get togethers', Ginny. No robes, just picking up my degree papers from the main office and heading right over to get them framed."
The redhead had a glint in her eyes that reminded Hermione of her twin brothers' so she continued the stare down, imposing any will she could muster into it to discourage her friend from the plans surely forming in her head. Ginny broke first with a small laugh. "You'd think I was making you go through another robe fitting instead of celebrating your accomplishment, Hermione."
"Same difference," the older witch muttered, stabbing at her own gnocchi with more force than strictly necessary.
"If you don't want to celebrate your graduation from Muggle University, at least tell me more about the research you're doing."
With safer waters before her, Hermione relaxed just enough to clear the visible tension from her shoulders and began to talk about her work on evaluating a potion for vertigo. Ginny had always been one of the best of her friends at Charms and was curious about Alchemy. They always found some common ground for conversation between the two disciplines whereas Ron and Harry really never asked about her work. It had come in useful before when she wanted a moment of peace; there was nothing like an Arithmancy equation to clear out her two oldest friends. Likewise, Ginny was her bridge to them when it came to Quidditch. International star or not, Ginny understood that not everyone was Quidditch-mad.
Saturday July 16th, 2005 | 3:15 pm | Number 12, Grimmauld Place
"Auntie!" screeched a blur of black hair as she caught herself from falling out of the Floo. With practiced grace, Hermione reached out her arms for her godson James, scooped him up and spun him around while stepping away from the Floo for Ginny to follow her. The joy of seeing her godson nearly cleared the annoyance that had bloomed in her chest as soon as Ginny had insisted she go through first, as if she were planning on ditching out on their plans. It wasn't the first time they had made that assumption and really, it had only been the one time after DMB 3.2. That batch had been the worst.
"Jamie, dearest, why are your hands all green?" Hermione hugged him again before placing James back on the carpet of the Potter's sitting room. A proud grin lit up his face as he proudly stuck out his palms for inspection.
The whooshing sound of the Floo announced Ginny's arrival. While dusting off the soot from her robes, she called, "Harry, your son got into the drawing room again!"
"He's always my son when he gets into places he shouldn't," chuckled Harry as he walked into the sitting room from the main hall. A smirk played at the edges of his mouth as he walked up to his wife and gave her a quick kiss. His nose wrinkled, "Ugh, soot! I'll never get used to the Floo. Hello, Hermione!"
She grinned up from where she knelt on the floor, listening keenly to James telling her all about the paint he had found, how he wanted to help put it on the walls as well, but they weren't drawing any dragons on them. Agreeing that was indeed sinful that they weren't adding dragons, and how good of him to think of the decorating so seriously, Hermione stood to greet her oldest friend. No sooner had she straightened up was she enveloped into a firm hug.
"Jamie was born with a natural talent," Hermione said while smiling up at him. Harry hadn't grown much past that summer while camping but he did stand taller than her now. Bringing one palm to his face she swept at a bit of dust near his ear with her thumb. "We'll see if he follows in your footsteps a little further in a few years, then, to see if flying and troublemaking truly do run in the Potter family."
"Spare me!" called Ginny as she made her way up to her room to change and deposit her small amount of shopping that she had predictably drawn Hermione into.
James continued to tell his de facto aunt all about the Swedish Short Snout he was working on in the upstairs drawing room. Continuing to listen with genuine interest, Hermione kept hold of his hand and let him lead her to view the artwork. For being two years old, James wasn't half bad at getting the general shape of a dragon, and it warmed her heart to see he had brought out a reference book to add in a few more defining traits of the breed that had obviously caught his eye. She made sure to state this praise aloud and James preened under the attention.
"I'm just glad it's not Horntails anymore," Harry said from his place by the door. James had lost himself again in painting the green dragon onto the wall. "It's one thing to encourage him and completely another to allow that breed of dragon on my drawing room walls. That's quite a herd you have there, James."
James rolled his eyes and Hermione had to fight down a fit of giggles. "It's called a clan, dad; a clan of dragons."
Still fighting the giggles, Hermione patted the space next to her so Harry walked into the room and sat on the floor cross legged like she was. It was peaceful sitting in mutual silence and enjoying the spectacle James created as he unknowingly chased away small bits of darkness from the room with his tiny colorful drawings. The old house still had some lingering darkness that the team of them had not been able to banish, but they chalked it up to generations spent miserably here. Another generation full of happiness would be the best magic to begin clearing the air and the halls of gloom.
There were still many rooms in the house where the doors stayed locked and no one entered them except when attempting to curse-break them. They had been the best form of relief that she, Harry, and Ron had had the first few years after the defeat of Voldemort since it was very difficult to turn off the instincts they had honed over half of their lifetimes: find evil, research it, fight it, and then move on to the next bit. Ron had been able to move on the swiftest as he began to help Fred and George with the joke shop. The war had spurred the wizarding world into wanting more laughter in their lives to move on, so the twins needed the help and Ron needed to be needed. No doubt that was why he and Lavender had found their way back to each other so quickly as well.
By unspoken agreement the three of them seldom spoke of the first few years after the war had officially ended that they spent in Grimmauld Place. Most days were spent away from the house while Harry began his Auror training with Ron and Hermione went back to Hogwarts to help rebuild and St. Mungo's to heal the veterans. The routine had almost been too much for Harry and Hermione after so many months on the run and Ron had made his opinion known before the following Christmas. He'd had enough of Dark wizards and their, as he put it, "fucking shenanigans ruining his life" and had moved out by Boxing Day.
The joke shop and managing his sister's Quidditch career had suited him well, much more thoroughly than a life as an Auror would have. It had been hell watching him leave them again, this time of completely his own volition without a Horcrux to blame, but after the initial sting had worn away and they saw how happy he was near his family, forgiveness had come swiftly.
"He makes it worth it."
Hermione turned to look at her friend. Harry had a huge grin plastered to his face, but his eyes were decidedly teary. He pulled off his glasses and ran his hands over his face and hair to make it stand up even more wildly than before. After clearing his throat he put the frames back over his eyes and turned to his friend beside him. Taking Harry's right hand in her left one, Hermione offered him a watery smile of her own before leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder.