"What's wrong?"

Hugo Weasley was her favorite Weasley. He was... up. Almost always upbeat, enthusiastic, optimistic. She'd been relieved when she'd been paired with him for the Order's plan for damage control. They blogged together, giving Muggles insight into what it meant to be a witch or wizard in modern times, with the added bonus that he'd grown up in a mostly magic household and she'd grown up in an entirely Muggle household.

"What?"

"Don't try it. Something's wrong; I can tell."

"It's papers day."

"What does that mean?"

Hugo sighed, and glanced around like he was worried somebody was watching them. He went so far as to flick his wand, nonverbally casting what was probably a privacy charm. It meant a lot that he was telling her after so little prompting. They'd only met a few months ago when she'd joined the Order. He'd been a seventh year when she was a first year; they had probably passed in the halls, but they'd never noticed each other.

"Every year on New Year's Day, Mum gives Dad divorce papers."

"What?"

"They had some clause in their marriage that a divorce had to be mutual unless infidelity, harm or one of a handful of other things could be proven." He sighed, and it was an old man sigh. "As you've probably noticed, all they do is fight."

"Doesn't she live at the school year-round?"

"Yes. She started teaching my fourth year, and my fifth year was when we finally convinced her to ask him to sign the papers."

"You?"

"Me and Rosie, yeah." He glanced at her, now looking sheepish. "I know. That's not how it's supposed to work, right? The kids are supposed to be upset."

"Yeah."

"They weren't a good match romantically. I've known it for as long as I've known that there's a difference between loving somebody and being in love with them. They love each other, and sometimes they have good days where they forget that they're married to each other. But they're not in love, and it… it's hard to watch."

"Why don't they divorce?"

"Mum wouldn't ask at first because it was comfortable. They were used to it; they were comfortable with their status quo even though they were kind of miserable. They didn't want to rock the boat, but when your teenagers tell you it's time to split up…"

If Professor Weasley had started asking for a divorce when Hugo was a fifth year, it would mean that kiss in the rain had happened after she'd asked at least twice. That made her feel a bit better about it—since she'd realized Professor Weasley was married, it hadn't sat right with her. Neither of them seemed the type for infidelity, but especially Professor Weasley. And watching them interact in the last few months it was clear that they were very good friends, but she was almost sure they weren't lovers. Were they holding the more respectable course? Had that kiss in the rain been the only moment?

Did that make it better or worse? Professor Weasley and Professor Snape were clearly in love. She could see it in the way he looked at her when she talked. She could see it in the way she touched his shoulder when she brought him tea in the library and then quickly withdrew from the room like she was afraid she'd overstep some self-imposed line.

That was worse, surely. It was certainly sadder.

"But why don't they divorce? If they're both unhappy, why won't he sign the papers?"

"His pride, I think. He always said it was because of us, but we're both of age now. There can't be any fight over custody. I think he doesn't want the spectacle, the attention from the press."

"I always forget that your family is famous."

"Shut up."

"I think I saw your uncle in the society pages last week."

"You probably did."

"He had an awful Muggle suit on. It was tartan."

"That'll be Uncle Percy, then? Or was it Uncle George?"

"He was liaising for something-or-another to do with the Reintegration Act. All the article talked about was how edgy his suit was, though."

"Definitely Uncle Percy."

She almost chuckled, but then felt the crackle of his privacy charm shattering. Professor Weasley breezed in looking calm and collected except for the tightness around her eyes. She through a sheaf of parchment into the fire and glared at it while it burned.

A/N: Obviously, I've opted to continue. I think there's one more chapter after this? We'll see.