Ginny was expecting to walk into the fabulous home she afforded with her Harpy contract and be completely alone. Lily would be at school and Albus and James were at Hogwarts until Christmas. As soon as the car was parked she was apparating into the house and stripping off clothes and heading for a hot shower before an afternoon paying bills.

Only she wasn't alone. A big tall stupid looking man with dark hair and glasses was coming out of her study. They saw each other and both promptly screamed in very loud, very high, very unbecoming voices. Ginny dove out of view.

"Harry! The hell are you doing here?"

He did sound a little meek, what with walking in on his ex-wife half naked. "I needed a book."

"That's why they have libraries."

"Why are you naked? You know the neighbors can see you if they wanted."

She looked from her hiding place to the window directly opposite her. No one was in the yard outside but if they were they'd be telling her how fabulous she looked especially after three children. She jabbed her wand in the direction of the window and it promptly darkened.

Warm breath on her shoulder caused her to spin around and stick her wand straight up Harry's nose. He was unimpressed and looking quite too intently at her breasts. She put one arm over them for a sense of decency but kept her wand still firmly wedged in his nostril.

"You look fabulous Ginny."

"You're a git Harry. Now why are you really here?"

He waved a book about. "I left this here when I was watching Lily."

"And you just waltzed in."

"Thought I was getting a book, not a book and a show."

"I'm not sure what will happen if I cast a spell in your nose but I'm willing to find out."

"Not my fault you go galavanting around the house naked."

"Yes it is. It's my house. I can galavant as I please."

Harry's eyes narrowed with suspicion. He stopped grinning and trying to get a peak at her breasts and started looking at her all intent like. All Auror like.

"Where have you been?"

She withdrew her wand from his nose, but was too reluctant to look down and see if there was a bogey on it. "Excuse me."

"Just now where were you?"

Ginny walked around her suspicious looking ex and stooped to pick her shirt and pants up. "Out," she called over her shoulder.

"Diagon Alley?"

She paused over a fabulous purple shoe with a turquoise heel. "What?"

"Diagon Alley. That's where you were?"

Ginny clutched the clothes to her chest and stood up proper to face Harry. "Why on earth are you wondering where I was?"

"I was curious!"

"About what I do in the mornings. It's hardly a secret."

"Baby Auror came in today. Said she saw you in Diagon Alley. Saw you with someone special." He was closer now. A second from invading her personal bubble. She'd seen him do it a few time with thugs he interrogated. Skinny as he was he was still tall enough to hulk a bit, especially over someone as short as herself.

And he knew. Somehow this Auror had recognized her and recognized Hermione and now he probably thought she'd known Hermione was coming to town and he was here to be a prat and demand details about her friendships which she had no intention of giving up thankyouverymuch.

She had to go on the offense. "You weren't here for the book."

"Yes I was."

"No. You came to ask about who I was meeting in Diagon Alley."

"No I was here for the book, I was just curious about the woman."

"You're such a liar. I didn't know she'd be there."

"What? Look if you want to meet your girlfriend in the middle of Diagon Alley by all means do it, but if you're dating someone I kind of didn't want to have to hear it from Baby Auror."

"Dating. You think Hermione and I are dating?"

"Yes-Hermione?"

Realization dawned. Of course Harry didn't know Hermione was in town. Of course Ginny would have to tell him while wearing nothing but a pair of panties and of course they'd have to stare at one another with their mouths wide open in shock. Enough Bludgers to the face and even as practical a woman as Ginny Weasley was prone to a bit of stupidity.

"Hermione Granger." Harry finally said.

"She got back into town yesterday I think. She was out shopping. That's who I ran into."

She'd grown used to Harry's need to process things. In emotional matters he was a thinker—a brooder. The news was working it's way through the synapses of his brain seeping into all that gray matter and forming thoughts, emotions. In these circumstances it had always fallen to Ginny to comfort him. Even after the divorce she was the caregiver.

She took him by the elbow and guided him to the couch and set him down. Pulling on her shirt she went into the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. She came back and handed it to him—watching him drink it in only a few long gulps. Then she sat next to him, close enough that he could feel her warmth but far enough that they didn't actually touch.

"Her husband just passed away," she said quietly.

Harry looked up from where he'd been staring at the empty glass in his hands.

"I don't really know the details. I think she and her children are living with her parents. Trying to find her footing."

"She should have written."

"I imagine—hope she's been busy. She said she was going to get ahold of you and Ron though. Have a little dinner or something." She smiled a bit conceitedly, "I invited myself." Harry started laughing suddenly. "What?"

"It's just Salander. She was all scandalized about your new girlfriend. And it was Hermione Granger! Imagine Witch Weekly getting ahold of that one."

Ginny laughed to. "That would have been brilliant. Can you imagine my mom's face? Or Hermione's?"

The both started laughing the images. But some other thought seemed to cross Harry's mind. The laughter died as he suddenly asked, "Should I go see her? Hermione I mean. Bring her a fruit basket or something."

"Why on earth would you bring her a fruit basket?"

"Food. When Muggles mourn they always bring each other food."

"I don't see how it could hurt. You taking Ron?"

"I prefer to steer clear of those two. I mean have they even talked since she left?"

Ginny thought about it. Ron hadn't ever mentioned Hermione. Least not after the first few months. And she was fairly certain Maggie didn't even know who Hermione was. "I guess I didn't think of that. He always told everyone it was amicable."

"Ginny our divorce was amicable. They haven't spoken in fifteen years."

#

Setting her bags down in the living room Hermione tried to think of a reason to get out of doing what she intellectually knew she very much needed to do. Sarah would arrive in London in a few hours and they'd spend the last bit of the afternoon looking at properties. Hugo needed to have a proper uniform for his new school. Harriet and Hugo Sr. had insisted that Hermione and the children all come in for a good teeth cleaning and check up. And Hermione needed to go and buy a new car already.

But she'd run into Ginny Weasley and now felt it very necessary to contact at least Ron. It wasn't fair for him to find out from his sister, or worse, Witch Weekly. But how did one even look up an old fiance/best friend? In the US she'd look him up online or give him a phone call. Only it was England and Ron was a very traditional sort of wizard. Did she owl him? Show up at his home with a smile and an apology? Just walk right into his office?

"Mom?" Hermione looked up. Rose was standing at the top of the stairs looking at her oddly. "Everything all right?"

"Sorry?"

"You've been standing there a full minute staring at the wall. The wallpaper Harriet put up isn't that fascinating."

"Don't call your grandmother by her first name."

"I'm not calling her Moomsie."

Hermione shuddered. Harriet had been delighted by the idea of the name. She didn't have the heart to tell her mother exactly why it was very, very awful.

"Try Grandmama."

Rose groaned at the suggestion and flopped down onto a step. "You sound so British when you say that. 'Grandmama," Rose did a surprisingly passable Hermione impression, "might you fetch me some tea so that we might partake of it whilst watching the telly."

"No one talks like that."

"Granddad called it the telly last night. And he called one of the shows his program."

"You grandfather is very old fashioned in some respects. Not the norm." She pulled out one of Rose's new robes and tossed it to her daughter. "Try that on."

"They really make us wear robes?"

"And jumpers and ties."

Rose groaned again and laid back over the stairs. There was the sound of feet running through the hallway upstairs. Then Hugo sailed into view, landing rear first in Rose's lap. She made some sort of noise between a strangled groan and a scream and shoved him off so forcefully his head smacked against the wall.

Most children, after seeing stars from such a blow would have at least looked dazed. Hugo was too amused by his sister's histrionics to be in pain. Rose had curled up into a bit of a ball and was holding her stomach.

"Hugo Wilfred Thomas!" Hermione didn't bother to walk the few feet choosing to instantly apparate and wrap a finger around Hugo's ear. She pulled him up by said ear and down the stairs. "What on earth are you doing?"

He didn't have a chance to tell her because Rose was done moaning in a ball and launched herself at Hugo. He wasn't about to be caught by his very irate sister. He slipped out of his mother's grasp and went running through the house towards the backyard…screaming the entire time. Rose, who was really too old for such nonsense, gave chase, an equally loud screech coming out of her mouth.

It was a moment where Hermione regretted being an only child. Even at school the relationships she'd had had been nothing like what Rose and Hugo shared. They could be terribly violent with one another one instant and then tender the next. The only person she'd ever been especially violent with was Draco Malfoy and she certainly couldn't imagine giving him a hug later.

Perhaps Ron. There had been quite a bit of animosity between them, but their tender moments had been decidedly un-sibling like.

Ron.

Hugo Sr. was shouting outside finally pulling apart the siblings; so Hermione went to the couch so that she could at least be comfortable while staring ahead in deep thought. She needed to contact him, and the sooner the better. Her run in with Ginny had been in the middle of Diagon Alley, and although she could expect Ginny to not say anything the same couldn't be said of all the people staring when Ginny saw her.

Hugo Sr. walked in drying his hands with a paper towel and shaking his head. "Your daughter was giving Hugo something called an 'indian burn.' I haven't a clue as to what that means but he was making an awful racket."

"Where are they now?"

"Staring at the wall in separate corners of the kitchen. Everything all right dear?"

Her father was terribly absent-minded. Although Hermione was his only daughter and he adored her he had never been very good at the whole emotion thing. It was probably owing to the fight he had just broken up that he'd taken a moment to really look at Hermione and realized she wasn't doing particularly well.

She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice with a deep inhalation of air. "I'm all right dad. Just didn't realize how difficult it'd be coming home."

"Something happen while you were out?"

"Not really, there's just some people I need to see."

"Ah, those two boyfriends of yours?"

She laughed. He'd never known them as Ron and Harry. Instead he'd called them the "boyfriends" and given a very over the top protective dad scowl whenever she mentioned them.

"Yeah," she said, "the two boyfriends. It's better if I get it out of the way now."

He tossed the used paper towel in a bin. "Makes sense. I take it I'm to watch the two terrors in the kitchen?"

"If you could?"

He returned to the kitchen leaving Hermione alone once more. She tried to do what had grown comfortable in the last three months. Tried to get herself so miserable that she didn't want to move and could just get away with curling up on the couch and waiting for it to all be done with. But the sounds of her children bickering in the kitchen wouldn't allow it.

She bit back a groan as she stood up, her knees creaking a bit more then they used to and her back ached liked she'd never imagined as a child. It had happened. Some moment in the last fifteen years she'd grown old. How would Ron look? Would his hair still be a bit too long? Would Harry have finally grown distinguished as she expected, or would he still be the scrawny teenager in his sizable cousin's hand me downs?