Scorpius dragged his hands through his blonde hair in exasperation. He had had enough. He was exhausted. He hadn't slept properly in weeks and now he had spent his day off arguing with the woman he was meant to love. The day had started well enough; they had gone for lunch. Just the two of them and at first he had relished spending time with her away from the gaggle of witches she spent all her time with. That was how it had been when they had first met. They would spend hours on end together, walking through the grounds of her parents' estate, stealing kisses over leisurely picnics.
That had been a long time ago.
Now she was bored by his tales of St Mungo's and try as he might, he couldn't give a damn about the caterers Sophie had used at her last event. They simply didn't have anything in common anymore. There was nothing holding them together. He had though moving into this apartment would have helped, as if being shielded from prying families would have helped them blossom but it seemed it had had the opposite effect. Things had stagnated and you couldn't hide that when there were only two of you. They were desperately clinging on to the past and hoping that was enough.
She had stormed out when he had told her he had to work during her latest social event, slamming the door behind her with her usual dramatic flair. Scorpius had been sat on their bed since she had left trying to find the strength to fight for his relationship. Glancing over at the clock on his side – she hadn't emerged before eleven since he had known her – he saw that he was already nearly an hour late for dinner at the Weasley's and she had been missing for nearly twice that time.
Screw her, he thought bitterly to himself.
It certainly didn't look like she was coming home to any time soon and the Weasley's had never been a particularly punctual family. Even Hermione had slackened on the time-keeping front in recent years. If he went now, they would probably still be sitting around drinking tea and catching up.
Brushing the creases from his trousers he apparated to the all too familiar abode. She would just have to wait.
Hermione noted the tension in her husband's shoulders with worry. Of course, his life as an auror was meant to stay in the office but it seemed old habits remained. She had been the first one both her best friends had turned to when things got…prickly with the dark wizards. And she had been just as concerned as they were. This felt like the old days, before the war, before they almost lost everything. And it was only getting worse.
Glancing over her family crowded into the living room, with every available surface a temporary perch, she wondered how they would cope. They had made sure Rose and Hugo had been raised as children of peace and there was no way she would let them anywhere near any conflict. It was unfathomable. Her children were smart and strong , there was no denying that, but she wouldn't let them go through what they had. They were still too young. Rose may have moved out now and her control was getting better by the day but she was still Hermione's little girl.
As for the rest, there were a few too many grey hairs and wrinkles for Dumbledore's Army to reform now. They had done their fighting and become complacent in the years since Voldemort had been defeated.
For the hundredth time that week, she hoped Ron and Harry would fix this before it came to even more violence.
It had been Hugo who had answered the door and welcomed into the room which seemed to be bursting at the seams with redheads. He was handed a cold bottle and engulfed. Spotting James and his now heavily pregnant girlfriend across the room, he raised his drink to them and was offered a beaming smile in return. Automatically, he felt a smile tug at his own lips and relaxed. It certainly felt better being here than cooped up in that empty flat all night. It just felt right.