1 January 2055
Hermione woke suddenly with a sharp pain in her neck. She gave a little groan, rubbing the sore spot that had somehow found its way all down her back. After a moment, the pain subsided, and she reached for her glasses, put them on, and turned her head to look for Ron. He wasn't beside her. Hermione frowned, sitting up slowly and rubbing her back as she straightened. Outside the windows, she could see huge drifts of snow all across the lawn and the neighboring houses. Everyone was sleeping late on New Year's Day. She smiled.
A little stiff from the late night at Harry and Ginny's house, Hermione got out of bed and reached for her robe, pulling it comfortably over her shoulders and rubbing her eye sleepily. She put on her slippers and went downstairs, looking for Ron.
"Good morning," she said happily, coming into the kitchen. She froze. Ron was not there. Hermione did a double take—was he in the sitting room? Did she walk right past him and not even notice? "Ron?" she called, listening for even the slightest sound of his presence—a shuffle in the hall upstairs, anything. "Ron, where are you?"
Hermione went to stand in the middle of the living room, looking all around. "Ron!" she called, a little louder this time. She was nervous—Ron would never leave in the middle of the night without telling her. She clutched her robe tighter about herself, biting her lip.
Was he upstairs somewhere? Had he hurt himself?
With a sudden, horrible lurch of her heart, Hermione hurried up the stairs. She made it nearly all the way before she heard an odd snuffling sound, coming from the living room. She paused and turned on the stairs, one hand on the banister and the other going straight to the pocket of her robe, closing tightly around her wand.
"Who's there?" Hermione demanded sharply. There was no answer. "Ron, if that's you, I swear—" And the sound came again. It sounded like a stifled—giggle?
Hermione closed her eyes, shaking her head, and smiled. She came tiptoeing back down the stairs. "Come with me, and we'll be in a world of pure imagination," she sang, grinning as she came closer to her own armchair by the fireplace. "Take a look and you'll see into your…hmm…I wonder what that word is…I wish I could remember," she said thoughtfully.
There was a sudden gasp, and Hermione grinned as a little head of curly brown hair and two bright blue eyes popped up behind the arm of the chair.
"A-maginayshun!" shrieked the little girl, scurrying out from behind the chair and seizing Hermione about the hips, beaming up at her. "A-maginayshun, Nana!"
Hermione heard a chorus of groans, seemingly emanating from the furniture, and laughed.
"Hermione, baby, you didn't say surprise," whispered a voice in the bookshelf that sounded suspiciously like Rose's. Little Hermione's eyes popped wide open and she scrambled away from her grandmother, ducking back into her hiding spot. A moment later, she remerged, hopping to her feet, her hands high in the air.
"Sur-pise!" she cried, positively beaming, and Hermione laughed again, holding her sides as, with several loud pops, Disillusionment Charms lifted. Ron, Rose, Scorpius, Hugo, Alice, and all five of Ron's and Hermione's remaining grandchildren—who were all much older than the youngest—appeared, laughing and grinning.
"Happy ammaversity," said little Hermione to her grandmother, and Hermione bent, scooping her up and giving her a big kiss.
"Happy anniversary, Mum," said Rose, tickling her daughter's cheek and giving Hermione a squeeze. Scorpius followed her.
"We're going to have to figure out this whole surprise thing sometime, miss," he said teasingly to little Hermione, giving his mother-in-law a kiss on the cheek.
"She'll get the hang of it," laughed sixteen-year-old Katharine, patting her little sister's back. "Happy anniversary, Nana."
"Thank you, sweetheart," Hermione beamed, embracing Jean, Rose's oldest daughter. She paused. "I—now, wait a moment, where's Georgie?"
"He's here—come on, George—" Jean nudged her younger brother forward.
"Hi, Nana," he said looking as uncomfortable as a twelve-year-old boy could possibly be at this time of the morning on his grandparents' anniversary. "Happy anniversary," he mumbled. Hermione ruffled his bright red hair, reminded very strongly, as she always was, of Ron at that age.
"How do you always figure out when I'm going to surprise you?" Ron lamented, coming forward and kissing her. Hermione smiled.
"I had a little help, this time," she said, winking at little Hermione, who blushed and giggled in her arms.
"Aha! A spy!" Ron cried, scooping the little girl away from Hermione. She let out a peal of laughter as Ron dangled her over his shoulder.
"You're all here so early!" Hermione cried, embracing Alice and Hugo together before their seventeen-year-old daughter, Julia, put an arm around her waist, beaming. "Oh, Frank, come here, sweetheart—" she kissed Julia's older brother, who grinned at her. "Well, come in the kitchen! I'll make breakfast—what do we all want? Oh, Ron, can you get the extra chairs from—"
"Hermione—Hermione, freeze," said Ron, releasing his giggling granddaughter to Katharine. He laid his hands on Hermione's shoulders as she stood before the doorway to the kitchen. "We made breakfast," he told her, gesturing to their family.
"You did?" Hermione asked, smiling at them all. "That was so sweet—oh, thank you," she said, embracing Ron tightly. He patted her back.
"Come on, let me show you what I made," he said, pulling her by the hand into the kitchen. Hermione looked back at the others, who were all smirking and chuckling.
"What are you—"
"Bon appétit, Hermione," Ron said happily, and Hermione looked at the counter where he pointed.
Half of a banana, still in its peel, sat on the countertop.
Hermione put a hand to her chest, feeling her chin tremble, and she looked at Ron, trying not to tear up. "You remembered," she said with a little laugh.
"Always the tone of surprise," Ron joked, and Hermione laughed, feeling a tear slide down her cheek. Ron shook his head, affronted. "Do I remember how I proposed to my wife…Ha! Well, go on, then," he said, nodding to the banana with an air of feigned detachment.
"Go—go on?" Hermione asked, as she felt her four-year-old granddaughter clamp onto her leg.
"Open the present, Nana!" the little girl said eagerly, and George quickly put a hand over his little sister's mouth.
Ron laughed, nodding toward the banana. "Take a look, Hermione," he said, smiling. Hermione looked over her shoulder at her family, who were all looking excited and encouraging.
Hermione took a step forward, carefully lifting back the banana peel.
"Oh, Ron," she said softly.
A beautiful ring sat on the inside of the peel, studded all the way around with two bands of alternating, positively miniscule aquamarines and sapphires. Hermione sighed, looking at Ron.
"Fifty stones," he said, picking it up and showing her. "For fifty years. I'll get you another one of these when we make it to a hundred," he joked, and Hermione laughed as he placed the ring on her hand, snugly beside her wedding ring. "Happy anniversary, Hermione."
"Happy anniversary," she answered, putting her arms around his waist and giving him a kiss. "I love you."
"Yuck!" shrieked little Hermione, and Katharine laughed, bending to pick up her sister.
Jean stepped forward. "We really are going to make breakfast, though, Nana, so let us—George, don't you bolt for that door, I saw that—let us handle it—grown-ups in the living room!" she said. "Only kids in the kitchen today!"
"Said the twenty-year-old," muttered Frank good-naturedly.
"You're twenty-two and you still act like a kid," Julia informed him.
"Come on, Nana, Granddad, we'll take care of breakfast," Katharine said, still holding little Hermione on her hip. Ron put his arm around Hermione, lifting his eyebrows as they followed Rose, Scorpius, Hugo, and Alice.
"I knew there was a reason we had kids," he said, and Hermione laughed, glancing back at her grandchildren, who had promptly begun to open every cupboard in the kitchen. Little Hermione had been placed on a countertop, watching her siblings and cousins with great interest as she munched on the half of banana Ron had left on the counter.
Hermione slipped her arm tighter around Ron's waist and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Ron Weasley. Happy anniversary," she said quietly.
Ron chuckled. "I love you too. Happy fortieth annual tenth anniversary."
"Good answer," Hermione told him, laughing again and hugging him tight.