Harry Potter was sitting in his office at the Ministry when his son's owl flew through the door. He had never quite figured out how the thing could get in but it never failed to do so. Al'd never complained about not receiving a return owl from him.
Harry quickly chucked the report he was reviewing aside and took the letter from Hera. "Good girl. Bit of bread Hermione made over on the mantle. Eat what you'd like." He conjured a small bowl of water beside it. "Drink away but no baths."
As the owl hooted merrily and flew to the mantle, Harry opened the letter. Al must've been out late last night to get it off for it to be here at seven in the morning.
Harry was kind of shocked that his son put a protective charm on the contents of the letter. Eager to find out what was such a secret, the eldest Potter tapped his wand to the parchment and vowed to keep the contents a secret. For some reason he thought he was going to have trouble not repeating the contents of the letter to Hermione.
To this day, he and Hermione remained close friends. They often spent time together away from the rest of the family. Though they were never treated as children-in-law, they sometimes felt that way. After Ginny gave up quidditch when James was born, and when Ron decided to open his own WWW in Cornwall, the two of them (the Weasleys), started to revert to the old days of when the Weasley family (the born Weasleys) were the be all end all of social interaction. It wasn't that Harry and Hermione were uninvited or left out; they simply felt a bit out of place.
Things only got worse when Molly passed on two years prior. Ginny took up the role of mothering the family. She had always claimed she would never do that; she said her priorities were always going to be her own children and husband first.
He couldn't blame her for spending loads of time with her family though. Arthur had really lost a part of him when he lost Molly. They'd been married nearly fifty years when she'd passed. He'd silently cursed himself when Hermione tearfully told him that witches had a shorter life span than wizards.
He wondered how he would survive without his wife and suddenly understood where Arthur was coming from. He hoped he had his Ginny for a hundred more years.
He quickly shook his head to free his mind of his musings and focused on the letter that his son had sent him. His eyes scanned the words and widened with every sentence.
Was this his son's way of telling him that Rose (Weasley!) and Scorpius (Malfoy!) were in a relationship? Or at least, as his son speculated, could be in one?
Hundreds of scenarios and emotions flashed through Harry's mind at once. Now he knew why Al had put the charm on his letter. There was no way he could tell Ron about this. His best mate really wouldn't be very understanding.
He had been ashamed of Ron's reaction to their children being sorted into Slytherin. He himself had been shocked, as he'd assured his youngest son that the Hat would take preference into account, when Al wrote him to say he and Rose had been put in Slytherin. He accepted it, however, knowing that Al would do good things in that House. And he was glad to have Rose there with him.
Some people thought it wasn't a surprise to find the young Potter boy in Slytherin. They knew of how Harry had nearly been sorted there and that James Potter, Harry's father, had been considered for the House as well.
But Rose Weasley came as a true shock. No Weasley had ever been considered for the green and silver house. And, if the way Al had written it was true, the Hat didn't even need to touch her head before it was certain she was to be a Slytherin.
He and Hermione had talked about her daughter in great lengths in the days and weeks following that September. Hermione had not been angry at all. She was shocked, of course, but she knew her daughter was a good girl and wasn't in Slytherin because she was evil. She had disclosed to him that she thought Rose was incredibly suited to the House known for ambition (though in earlier years the ambition was not exactly the best thing). Her daughter was clever and could be manipulative. Just ask Ron or Arthur.
Ron, of course being the complete polar opposite as Hermione, had taken the news very badly. When Rose came home for Christmas that year, he seemed to have treated her like he would have treated Draco Malfoy. He was cold, distant, and not very nice at all. Harry'd given Ron a nice talking to once the kids were gone – complete with strong hexes and several threats.
As the years passed, Ron came to accept that his daughter was in Slytherin, though never quite happy with it. What made it worse, in Ron's mind, was that Scorpius Malfoy, the carbon-copy of his father, was one of her best friends. She had formed her own trio with Al and Scorpius as her mates. And they were quite popular.
Al had more detentions because he "scared off" suitors for Rose than for anything else.
And his son was nothing if not a chronic detention receiver.
His mouth was hanging open in a very unattractive manner when Hermione walked through the door.
"Harry?" she asked with concern. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"I-I wish I could tell you, Hermione, but I can't."
"What do you mean you can't?" the curly haired brunette asked with her hands moving to her hips and her stance indicating her displeasure with his response.
"I had to do a vow to not reveal the contents of this letter. I, of course, anxious to know why my son wanted to keep a secret, vowed not to tell anyone. Don't worry," he rushed out when he saw the look on Hermione's face. "It's nothing bad. Just kind of shocking. And I'll definitely write back to Al to ask for permission to tell you."
"What's it about, Harry?" she asked. "I don't mean tell me what it says," she added with an eye roll as she sat down in one of Harry's comfortable guest chairs. "I just mean … who is it about?"
Harry narrowed his eyes for a moment, wondering exactly what would happen to him if he gave in to her request and disclosed a little bit of detail. He stared at the witch in front of him before saying with a small smirk, "The Silver Trio."
"Oh sweet Merlin," Hermione said on an exhale. "What did those three get into now? And will Filius be flooing me later to discuss how to better discipline my daughter?"
"First, he only did that one time and the git she hexed completely deserved it. Al told me he was going in for a feel of something I'd rather not be discussing, as she is my goddaughter and it's kind of creepy, and her wand was quicker than my dear son's. And second, they didn't do anything bad, I assure you. Everything fine. Al was just writing to give me an update. I doubt he'd be angry if I told you but I'd like to wait and get his permission first."
Hermione sighed and crossed her arms. "Your son is too secretive."
"Maybe your daughter isn't secretive enough."
Hermione rolled her eyes again. "They're okay though? There's nothing I need to be worried about, is there?"
Harry's mind flipped into overdrive. He knew Hermione shouldn't be worried about the most recent development but was well aware that she could be. "Nothing at all, Mi. I promise."
Hermione looked skeptical for a moment for sighing and giving Harry a slight nod. "So how's Gin been lately? I know you were having some trouble before …"
"She's about the same. She's been talking about having another baby, if you can believe it. I mean, true, we're not all that old, but another kid?"
"I think it's because of Luna's son Lorcan taking a liking to Lily. Typically it's the father who freaks out over it, but since Lil is so much like Gin, you half expected it a year ago, didn't you?"
Harry gave her a nod and a smile. "She's so much like Gin it's kind of creepy. I mean, she looks like her, acts like her … I thought she'd have way more blokes after her. I thought she and Rose would be competing or something."
Hermione shrugged. "It's not as if Rosie's looking for the attention. It just … I don't know … happens."
"She's her mum's daughter," Harry told her.
"Sure, Harry, because all of the guys at Hogwarts were in a line for me."
"Did you ever stop to think that they would have been if it wasn't for me and Ron? I mean, you were untouchable when we were in school. Ron was a tyrant when blokes talked about you. And, Merlin, after Neville had that dream about you …"
"Neville had a dream about me?" Hermione asked loudly in interruption.
"Oh yeah," Harry chuckled. "Hell, because of his dream, I had several of my own. I was just smart enough to shield my bed."
"What was the dream about?" Hermione asked. When Harry just stared at her with raised eyebrows, Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Oh. But how do you know it was about me?"
Harry's eyes shifted to the door. Seeing no one around, he waved his hand and shut it before muttering a locking and silencing charm. "This does not, under any circumstances, leave this room. The press would love to get a hold of what I'm about to do." Hermione looked at him oddly when he transfigured his couch into a Gryfifndor bed. "This happened in fifth year," he explained as he climbed under the covers. "And if you laugh at me, I will make sure Neville knows you know about what I'm about to do. He'll be a right mess in front of Rose until the day he dies. Or she dies of mortification, as we all know Neville is not good at keeping secrets."
"He's certainly kept this a secret," she said with an arched brow as Harry, under the covers, removed all of his clothing except his boxer shorts.
"No bloke wants anyone to know about his wet dreams, Hermione."
"Wet dreams?" she screeched. "Harry James, get out from there right now! I don't … I can't …"
"Most blokes were like this about you, Mi," Harry said. "Now, this is how I know. Pretend I'm Neville."
Hermione was rocked back to the days of her youth for a moment. Harry's child-like statement of "pretend I'm Neville" made her long for their younger days, wishing they'd had a chance to just be children.
She was brought from her internal musings when she heard a breathy "oh yeah" from the bed Harry was currently ensconced in. Her eyes widened as she saw movement under the blankets. "Harry."
"I'm Neville," he said quickly before reverting back into his character. "I never told you this," he whispered. "But I think you're brilliant. And not just in the smart way."
Hermione furrowed her brow before allowing him to continue.
"I really did want to go with you to the ball last year… oh yeah … but Krum got to you … oh, right there … first. And I really wanted to ask you to … a little lower … be my girlfriend. But you and Ron … Merlin! … seemed to be getting really … oh, your mouth … close." Harry took a few steadying breaths, for the first time stopping to think that this was probably not the best idea. He would need to go home and have a nice visit with his wife during his lunch hour. Harry groaned loudly (and quite sensually) before crying out, "Merlin, Hermione, you feel so good wrapped around my …"
"Harry!" Hermione screamed, completely mortified.
The Potter patriarch smirked and pulled his clothes back on as he got out of bed. "Now do you know how we knew?"
Hermione, blushing furiously, muttered several things in his direction, eyes on the ground. "You're a complete prat, Harry Potter."
His smirk never left his face as he did the final clasp on his robe and waved his hand making the bed disappear. "So you see, Mrs. Weasley … even Neville Longbottom had wet dreams about you when we were in Hogwarts. That one was right after the fight at the Ministry."
"So you're telling me that you, Mr. Potter, had a wet dream about me?"
Harry blushed and turned away. "How did we get on this topic?"
"You were explaining to me what was wrong with the kids …"
"Nothing's wrong, Hermione. I told you that. It's just that Al seems to think …" he trailed off as his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Hermione burst out laughing. "Serves you right. I'm sure Rose will tell me if something's wrong. Now, should I leave you like this or fix you for your eight o'clock meeting with Kingsley …?"
Harry glared hard at her until she released him with a smile. "I think I'm going to pop over to Ron's shop for a bit. There might be something dark lurking about and I should probably check it out."
"The only thing dark there," Harry muttered, "is the corner in which you're going to shag his brains out."
Hermione gave him a clever smirk before walking out of his office. He made another sweep, making sure he rid the room of any evidence of his little show, and told his secretary that she could let his appointment in. He would, unfortunately, have to wait to get home to his wife.
--
Draco sat in his quarters, his mind going over what his son had said about his friend. There was no way that Scorpius knew Weasley's sleeping habits because of her passing out in the common room. His son, while nothing like he was during Hogwarts, still would have defied rules to get that girl comfortably into bed.
He couldn't help but ponder whether it was his bed that he took her to.
Granted, Scorpius had never outwardly shown any signs that he was interested in the brown-haired girl. They were friends, much like Potter and Granger were in school.
He often wondered, however, just how close Potter and Granger were. If anyone, he would have imagined Granger losing it to the Boy Wonder. He dismissed it, having been told somewhere down the line the Granger had only been with one man: her husband. And people respected her for it! Leave to the goody-two-shoes bookworm to make abstinence cool again.
He had overheard Weasley telling a younger Rose not to get too close to his son because his father – Weasley Senior- would never forgive her for marrying a pureblood. Astoria actually held him back from attacking the redheaded git.
He would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when Weasley got the letter about his baby girl's Sorting. He imagined the git turning the color of his hair before promptly throwing a fit and then passing out.
Sighing, he got up and walked to the fireplace and threw some floo powder in. "Hey, love," he whispered when he saw his wife and their infant on the couch in front of the fire.
"Hello," she smiled in answer with a soft, melodic voice.
"How is she?"
"Sleeping away. She misses her daddy though."
"He misses her too," he replied in a soft voice. "And her mum."
Astoria Malfoy smiled once again before kissing the baby on her head and laying her in the pram on the end of the couch. "How was your trip up?"
"Long," Draco sighed. "You should have seen the look on Scorpius' face when they announced me though. And his two little mates weren't much better."
"How are Rose and Albus?" his wife asked with a cocked eyebrow.
"Better than Scor, I would imagine." He paused, thinking about how he would phrase the next part of the conversation. "Do you think Scorpius is interested in someone? I mean, I know he's dated before … but he's acting a bit odd."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, he went on a bit about his imperfections and those of Al and Rose … and he told me that Rose snores when she sleeps deeply."
Astoria got a look on her face – kind of a half smirk – that made him think his wife knew more than she let on. "How would he know that?" she asked innocently.
"What do you know?" he demanded, trying to sound stern. At her arched eyebrow, he pulled out of the fire and flooed home. "Tell me," he said softly as his arms wrapped around her.
"I know that Scorpius is very much like his father," she whispered, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling her husband down for a slow, deep kiss.
"How's that?" he murmured as his lips traveled down her neck and to her collar bone.
"In the heat of the moment," she whispered as she began to remove his robe and shirt, "your son forgets the silencing charm as well. And he's quite considerate in calling his lover's name instead of some generic oh baby! or something along those lines." She felt his lips pull away. "What did you stop for?"
"Please, please, please tell me that you didn't hear our son locked up in a room with Rose Weasley doing …"
Astoria smiled. "She's a good girl, Draco. She's right for him."
Draco sat heavily on the couch. "Weasley's going to have my head."
Astoria laughed as she climbed onto her husband's lap. "Let's not think about that or the kids. I'm feeling a lot better than I have been since the baby's been born. Let's …"
"Way ahead of you," Draco smiled as he picked up his wife and carried her to the bedroom. He left the door open, just a crack in case the baby started fussing, but remembered the silencing charm.