Chapter 3: Reconnection

As the preparations for the 'full Potter dinner' started up Hermione excused herself and went out to the garden. As she made her way out to the back Ginny stopped her for a moment, put her hand on her arm and smiled. "I'll call for you when it's time."

That was how Hermione found herself sitting out in the back garden, watching as the sun dipped behind a tree. Night was falling and soon the moon would be out. A small fear crept up on her, starting in the pit of her stomach and then rippled out until it seemed to encompass her entire body; would wishing on the moon take it all away again? If she stood there, in Harry and Ginny's garden, and wished on the moon to go back to her time, would it work? More importantly, though, a thought nagged at her, pestering her until she finally couldn't take it anymore and after a disgusted sigh said to the air "I don't know!"

She heard a laugh behind her and turned, then froze as if hit with a full body-bind spell. There, standing as he always did, with a goofy look on his face, was Ron Weasley. He had gained some weight, mostly around the middle, and there were creases around the corners of his eyes, but what surprised her the most was the fact that despite the picture that Ginny had shown her Ron most definitely still had a full head of hair, mostly white hair, though a few streaks of red still shown through.

He walked over to her, smiling warmly and then stood next to spot where Hermione sat, silent. After a few more moments of silence he motioned his head towards the bench. Getting the hint Hermione moved over, leaving a respectable amount of space between them. After he sat down he chuckled again and she felt just as irritated with him as she had months ago, then realised that it hadn't been months for him, it had been decades.

"What's so funny?" She turned to him. "And you have hair."

"What?" Ron reached up and touched his head right above the ear. "Why wouldn't I have hair?"

"Ginny showed me a picture. You were with Harry and James and...Jack. You were bald."

"Oh. That one. I'll have to give Gin-Gin some stick for that." Ron chuckled. "I lost a bet."

"On the Cannons?" She smirked at him. "Please tell me they aren't as horrible..."

"Oh, nah. Fully middle-table these days. Only relegated twice but we don't talk about that since they were promoted again." He shook his head. "You must be really nervous if you're talking to me about Quidditch."

For a moment she wanted to stand up and give him a good point-by-point rehash of everything she had been through but suddenly stopped with her mouth open. He was right. And one thing that she hated was when Ronald Weasley was right. "You're still infuriating."

He laughed quietly. "Yeah, I suppose so. Verity'd be happy to fill you in on the decades of idiocy you missed." He turned to her and stared at her, breathing heavily. "Merlin's pants I've missed you. I mean, Harry told me that when you came back for you it was not too long after we broke up. I know we were never going to be together like that, but...blimey, Hermione, we were always friends." He saw her begin to speak and held up his hands. "Yeah, I know, I was usually an idiot, a couple times in particular, but I was a kid. We were kids. Hell, you still are and that's as weird as hell."

"Tell me about it." She sank back into the bench and watched as the last burning orange rays of the sun began to fade into the horizon. "And why were you laughing when you walked out here?"

"Because you said you didn't know something, and trust me, I know how much that always drove you batty."

She stared at him for a moment before finally letting out a disgusted snort, rolled her eyes and put her head back on the top of the bench. The two of them sat there for a long time before she heard his voice, soft and low, tinged with sadness.

"Thought for a while I'd said something or done something to make you leave. Yeah, I know we ended it as well as we could have, and I know it didn't make sense, but somewhere in the part of you that holds all the fears you have, you know, the ones that are just...I dunno, there...in that little part I blamed myself. Verity was the one who helped me work past that."

"In a way, Ronald, it was you. Something you said."

"Bloody hell! I'm so sorry, Hermione."

She turned to him and took his hand without thinking. "It was nothing bad, honest. You told me that I needed to have some fun. Ginny reminded me of my planner, how it was all filled out, how when we went on holiday I had everything scheduled. I didn't want that to be my life, Ron, so I went on holiday with no plans. I ended up there on that beach and...yes. Our breakup did hurt, but not...not like that. I needed time to sort things out, to figure out what I wanted, what I really wanted and I wished for time. How was I to know I was on a bloody magical island with fucking moon magic?"

Ron stared at her for a moment and then broke out into a full-throated laugh. He seemed to calm for a moment but then looked at her and resumed. Only when she whapped him on the arm did he relent. As the laughter stopped he reached up and wiped his eyes. "Oh bloody hell, I've missed that. Proper Hermione Granger cursing and doing something impulsive, not only that but not researching where she was. You were always too easy to wind up."

"Prat." She sat back against the bench with her arms folded. After slightly huffing for a moment she turned back to him. Eventually she just couldn't contain herself. "This is so...bizarre. It's been years and years for you but the last time I saw you, you helped me move into my flat, bought beer and then broke up with me. It's been years for you but it's only been a few months for me."

"True." Ron nodded. "But from what the papers say, not to mention my sister, you managed to forget about our breakup rather quickly. I always thought you wanted to date a Potter, just never thought it would be my great-nephew."

"You. Are. Still. A. Prat." She glanced at him from the corners of her eyes, suppressing a smirk. Eventually, though, the smirk turned into a warm smile. "I still can't believe you're a grandfather. Your parents must have been pleased."

"Oh, oh." Ron laughed and crossed his long legs. "Mum was over the mo...she was really happy. Beyond belief. With Ginny and Harry's, not to mention my kids, and then Bill and Fleur's, Percy's and Charlie's, she was...put it this way. It was like Dobby times a hundred. Never seen her happier." His tone changed, and sadness crept in. "Mum died right after Charity left Hogwarts. We'd known it was coming, since Dad was gone then she was really just holding on to all the grandkids. Dad passed a few years before her, in his sleep. It was getting harder for her, she couldn't knit anymore, couldn't manage the magic. Fleur took care of her most of the time, then."

"Fleur?"

"Ah. Right." Ron nodded, remembering. "She and Fleur didn't get along very well before...um..."

"Before I left." Hermione shrugged. "That's what Ginny's saying."

"Yeah. Before you left. Mum warmed to her, though, to say the least. She does the Weasley jumpers now, Fleur. Mum showed her how."

"Ron Weasley!" Both Ron and Hermione turned to see Ginny standing by the back door of the house, hands on her hips, light streaming out behind her. "It's time to eat. Now get in here, wash your hands and help out or I'm telling your wife." Her tone softened rapidly. "It's time, Hermione."

As Ginny left Hermione covered her hand with her mouth. "For a moment I thought it was your mum."

Ron rolled his eyes and stood up. "She's just like mum sometimes but don't ever say that to her. George did once and trust me, if you thought mum was bad when she was angry she has nothing on Ginny."

Hermione stood up and looked at him oddly as it struck her that nobody had mentioned that George would be attending the dinner. "What about George? Why hasn't anyone said anything about him?"

"Ah shit." Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose vigourously for a few moments. "I'll tell you later, once the kids are gone. Short story is he's fine but he's George."

"Still making messes? At his age?"

"You have no idea."

The two stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Finally, though, Ron opened his arms. "Welcome back, Hermione."

When Ginny went out to yell at them to come in a second time, she saw them and quietly closed the door.

-ooo-

Memory is an odd facet of humanity. Certain things can trigger a memory that has not been recalled for years; a song, the smell of baking bread, the touch of a freshly mowed grass between the toes. For Hermione, entering the back door of Harry and Ginny's house and hearing the sounds made her close her eyes. For a moment she was at the Burrow on a day before Hogwarts term began. She could picture them all as clearly as if she held up her hand to her face. Molly in the kitchen, a faded floral print apron on, directing several dishes at once. The twins trying to convince Harry of something, Ginny not too far off throwing in the odd comment, Ron trying to sneak food before the meal officially began, Arthur in his chair, listening to the wireless. But the thing that brought her into that memory, more than anything, was the sound of a house full of family, noisily squabbling in a good-natured way, but most of all it was the laughter. It was the laughter that brought back that feeling of belonging, the feeling that, even though she and Harry were not Weasleys, she always felt the Burrow to be her magical home. Arthur and Molly had always treated her like family, without the howlers, thank Merlin.

With her back against the door, eyes closed, she reveled in the memory until she felt a hand on her arm. Opening her eyes she saw a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties. She took her in, trying to place her...she looked familiar but she couldn't exactly figure out who she was.

"Hermione?" The woman gave her a kind smile. "Mum wants to make introductions."

"Lily?"

The woman laughed. "No, but she wishes she looked my age. I'm Hermione."

"Oh." With a start Hermione looked at Harry and Ginny's youngest daughter. "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for, don't worry. And I go by Mione."

Hermione looked at her oddly. "Harry said they didn't call you that..."

"Because you hated it, which means my brothers call me nothing but that so everybody else does as well. Not Mum and Dad, obviously." A sudden popping noise startled both of the witches until Mione looked over at Hermione's chest and saw a name tag with Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes on it that said Hermione. She turned her head over her shoulder and yelled "Brilliant, Ron." Mione looked down and, sure enough, she also had on a name tag that said Mione. Looking back up to Hermione she rolled her eyes. "Bet its the only name tag he can conjure up. Come on."

She followed Mione out of the kitchen, realising that the girl had inherited Harry's dark hair and Ginny's build...well, Ginny's build the last time she saw her back then. Back then. That was what she was calling it. Hermione was ruminating on back then when she walked into the family room and gasped. The family room was an apt description, because it was truly and utterly filled with family. Apparently there was some sort of rather sophisticated magic involved in Harry and Ginny's house, because she had sat with Ginny in that very room earlier that day over donuts and it was nowhere near that size. More than that, though, there had to be...

"Forty-three. Not counting you, so that makes it forty-four." She looked over and saw Harry, standing next to the fireplace, beaming proudly. "I know you were trying to count."

She wanted to say something but found that she couldn't. Instead she looked at all of them...she could see Harry and Ginny in a lot of them, some not so much, others not at all. Before she could say anything there was a cough, obviously given to draw attention. She looked at the man sitting on the sofa next to a beaming young woman. The man looked so much like Harry that she knew he must be one of his sons.

The man stood up. "Hello, Hermione. I'm Arthur, number one son even though I was born fourth." He waved away the catcalls and motioned down to the younger woman. "I believe Hecate has some news."

The young woman stood up and put her hand on her abdomen. "I'm eight weeks along now. Bjorn wanted to be here when we told you, but, you know. Aurors. So technically it is forty-five."

That led to a series of congratulations and Hermione took the opportunity to stand against the wall, taking it all in. As she stood there she didn't notice that someone had come to stand close to her. After a few moments she came to the realisation and jumped with a bit of shock.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Hello."

Hermione looked up to see Jack Potter standing there, a mischievous look on his face. "Hello."

"Sorry. They'll settle down soon. I swear this family must have a fertility charm on it or something, all the babies."

Hermione looked at him for a moment and then cleared her throat.

"Shit, sorry, uh..." Jack ran his hand through his hair nervously. "I mean, we..."

"Jackie-boy!" James Potter slid between two witches and came over to his son. "You monopolised her for a whole week, you little dog. Let the rest have a chance." He turned to Hermione and stuck out his hand. "James Potter, of Potter Investments. Perhaps you can talk some sense into my son since it seems he won't listen to reason."

Thankfully Hermione was rescued at that moment by Harry and Ginny, who led her up to the fireplace. She stood there, next to Harry, looking out at all the faces turned in their direction. All those open, friendly faces. Then, off in the corner, she saw Ron standing next to a blonde witch, arm around her waist. Verity, his wife. She put her head on Ron's shoulder and then her attention was drawn back to Harry as he had begun speaking.

"...magic is a wonderful, unpredictable thing. You know how many times I've told you all..." As one the room groaned. "Yes, I know I repeat myself, but sometimes good things can happen that you never expect. I never expected to find my best friend, and your mum's best friend, after all these years. We thought she was gone, that she had died in the fire. How she came back to us is still a mystery, and what happened..."

"Nah, Gramps, that's not a mystery. Jack found her and shagged her."

A set of hands went over one girl's ears, a girl Hermione thought to be about Hogwarts age as the rest of the family snickered. Ginny stepped forward and shook her finger menacingly. "Bedivere Harold Potter-Jones, do I need to re-institute the punishments? You may be twenty-five..."

"Ginny." Harry put his hand on his wife's arm. "Bed, please. Yes, Jack found her. Now I expect all of you to be on...oh bloody hell." He threw up his hands in an exasperated manner. "Just try to be nice. I know she's smarter than the lot of you put together, yes, even you, Minerva, Merlin knows she was when we were at school, so don't say anything too stupid.

"But Gramps?" The Hogwarts age girl couldn't help herself. "If she went to school with you and Gran why isn't she old?"

"Magic." Ron's voice came from the back of the room. "Magic, Fiona. Ok, you lot have met her now. When do we eat?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and muttered 'some things never change' to Hermione as she headed towards the kitchen, the official signal that the introductions were officially over.

-ooo-

The evening went by in a fascinating blur. The meal was, if she was honest with herself, just like a meal at the Burrow but only with an engorgio spell. Conversations went by a kilometer a minute, especially as everyone seemed to want to fill in Hermione about themselves and their respective families all at once. They had all heard the stories of Hermione Granger, had even studied her at Hogwarts during History of Magic, and seemed slightly in awe of her. She sat next to Ginny, with Jack on her right. Unfortunately for Jack his father and mum sat opposite of them and it didn't take long to figure out exactly why Jack and his father didn't see eye-to-eye.

James ran a rather successful investing business, working with both the Muggle and magical stock markets, and had been working on Jack to give up his job. It occurred to her at that moment that since she and Jack had never discussed their lives in full detail that she had no idea what he did. As slight shocks seemed to be the order for the night she had another when he rolled his eyes and told his father that he was quite happy working with the British Wizarding Library.

Ginny leaned over and whispered "It figures that you ended up with the family bookworm."

As Harry and James disagreed with each other concerning Jack's chosen profession Jack took the opportunity to glance over to Hermione. "Sorry I didn't tell you. Didn't know who you were, really. I've read your books over at Uncle Ron and Aunt Verity's house. Used to go there in the summers. That one about Transfiguration theory..."

"The Barnes?" Hermione looked at him and rolled her eyes. "Totally useless."

"Exactly." Jack nodded. "I mean, I read it after my second year and even then I could tell it was a load of dragon dung. Why'd you keep it?"

"Ugh." Hermone fixed him with a look. "It was very popular at the time, in certain circles. Please tell me it's not used as a text. They sent over that copy, it was an advance copy...I knew one of the publishers, they used to send things over they thought I might like. I was a frequent customer."

"Nah, it's not a text. They use Whipforth and Screen's now. Much better."

Out of the corner of her eye Hermione glanced across the table to Maggie, Jack's mum, and saw the look of a very happy mother. She quickly looked away as she heard her name and answered at exactly the same time that Mione answered further down the table. That led to a round of laughter.

The evening continued on in an enjoyable fashion once the table was cleared, especially after Hermione realised, whilst drinking a glass of wine, that the name tags that Ron had conjured not only told the person's name but how, exactly they were related to Harry and Ginny. It was while standing next to Jack, while two women teased him, that she figured out exactly why they had asked her so many questions; they were his sisters, Elizabeth and Sarah. She listened as the two asked Jack more questions and it didn't take a Slytherin or Minerva McGonagall to figure out the intent of their little visit. They were looking out for their brother.

Hermione cleared her throat and made a point of looking at their name tags. "Elizabeth, Sarah? It's been quite nice chatting with you but I think I could use a bit of air. Jack?" She held out her wineglass to him. "Another, please?" After Jack took her wineglass and left she looked to the two women. Elizabeth, a plain woman with serious eyes looked to be in her late thirties while Sarah looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties and had inherited the Weasley red hair. "Ladies, I am not mental. Ron's daughter has the proof."

Elizabeth shook her head. "That's not it. Just be careful with Jack. He's vulnerable right now."

"Sonja." Hermione nodded. "We talked, he told me everything."

"Thank Merlin!" Sarah chucked her on the arm. "Finally! Little wanker moped about the place for ages after that. Wouldn't talk to anybody, even Gramps, and then I bet he never gave the full story. Bout time he came out of it."

Hermione smiled. "I have experience with mopey Potters. Trust me."

Elizabeth shook her head as if to clean out the cobwebs and gave Hermione a relieved smile. "Sorry, I forgot. Hard to believe you went to Hogwarts with Gramps and Gran. Just...be careful. He's been happier than I've seen him in ages. He was worried when you were...with Charity getting cleared. He's our baby brother." She looked up and nodded. "Here he comes."

"What'd I miss?" Jack handed Hermione the wineglass and then narrowed his eyes at his sisters. "What'd you two hags say?"

"Johnathan Fabian Potter, what? We wouldn't do anything." Elizabeth looked over to Sarah who simply looked over at Jack and stuck out her tongue.

"Nice, Sarah, real mature. Way to impress our guest." Jack took Hermione's arm. "Come on, let's get some air."

Once again Hermione found herself in the garden, sitting on the bench but this time with Jack. With a shock that took her breath away she realised that she had slept with both of the men who had sat with her on that bench. Blinking madly, trying to come to grips with that fact she downed her wine in one go.

"Whoa, are we that bad?" Jack looked over to her. "Are you ok?"

"That is the million Galleon question, isn't it?" She looked over to him and without thinking reached up and pushed his messy black hair out of his eyes. Just as quickly she removed her hand. "Sorry."

"It's ok." Jack looked at her for a moment and then turned back. The moon hung low over the horizon, large and brightly lit. After a large sigh he began talking. "Sorry about those two, they're a wee bit overprotective. Lizzy was horrible when I was little. Fourteen years older than me, so when she had her friends from Hogwarts come over I was their plaything. There's a series of rather embarrassing photographs that she has when...let's just say if she asks you if you'd like to see pictures of me when I was little just say no. Please say no."

Hermione snickered. "I may have to ask. Curiosity, you know."

"Merlin." Jack rolled his eyes. "And Sarah is five years older, going to Hogwarts when she was there was a real treat, you know. At least Billy had left Hogwarts by the time I got there. We get along fine now but he was a real wanker then. They always give me crap about my house, even now."

"Which house?"

He turned his head and grinned at her. "Care to guess?"

"Hmmm..." She looked at him studiously for a moment. "Ravenclaw?"

"Ha!" He laughed. "Mum wishes. Nope, Hufflepuff. The other gits were all Gryffindor. We've got the lot in the family though, every house. Arthur and Gordon's boy Bedivere, the one who said the thing about us..."

"Arthur and Gordon?"

"Uncle Arthur is after Aunt Lily. He and Gordon got married and adopted Bedivere and Hecate. Even though they're not their natural children both of those two are just like Arthur and Gordon, Slytherin through and through."

Hermione shook her head. "So much has changed."

"How are you doing with that? Really?"

"Honestly?" Hermione looked up at him and it wasn't like before, when some of the Healers and others at the Ministry had asked her the same question, the unspoken question 'are you mental?' hanging in the air. Jack was truly asking how she was, so she have him an honest answer. "I'm not sure. I feel fine, but it's all so strange. I feel like Rip Van Winkle."

Jack laughed. "Glad you don't have the beard."

"You know what I'm talking about?"

He laughed. "Like I said, I read your books."

She turned to him. "How many?"

"All of them."

"Really?"

He moved closer to her. "Really. Had to read some of them a second time or more, tried to read some of them when I was younger and it made about as much sense as Mermish."

"Mermish? Really?"

"Yup." Jack nodded. "It's only been in the last ten or so years we've got any of their stuff and, trust me, if you want a screaming headache I'll give you one of their books. I think their brains work differently or something."

"Fascinating." Also fascinating to Hermione was the fact that she and Jack were so close together on the bench. She didn't remember moving closer to him, but their positions on the bench made it quite obvious that both of them had moved closer to the other.

Jack cleared his throat. "Listen, I've got to tell you something. Charity sent me a letter, so I started researching. It's still too early to tell, but there might be a way to send..."

"IT'S THE GRANGY!"

Jack and Hermione both startled as in front of them was a house elf, dressed in the same little house elf attire that Hermione had seen earlier. She had wondered, earlier that evening, why a house elf had served tea to her and Ginny that day but no house elves were seen at dinner. The explanation soon came out, one that made her quite happy.

The little house elf bounced up and down on her feet. "I told's you, it's the Grangy!"

That was the signal as soon the air was filled with so many pops that she was reminded of when her father had taken the bubble wrap from a package and taught her how fun it was to pop all the bubbles at once. A sharp pang of sadness hit her then, as she thought of her parents, obviously gone after all those years. The sadness was soon gone, though, as she looked out and saw all the house elves. At all her time in the wizarding world she had only seen a few house elves gather together, never really following Harry and Ron into the Hogwarts kitchens as she thought it would be quite rude to intrude on the elves in the place of work, giving them additional work by requesting food. Now, though, there had to be...dozens. Dozens of house elves, all in little uniforms, but not all of them wore the same outfit as Harry and Ginny's house elf.

The house elves all clamored up to her but the one elf that she had seen earlier that day waved her hands rapidly and made them all quiet down and stand still. The little elf walked forward and bowed in front of her. "We's welcome the Grangy back!"

Biting her lip to keep from saying something she knew would upset the elves, Hermione took a deep breath and knelt down next to the bowing house elf. "Mitzy? Your name is Mitzy, isn't it?"

"Oh!" Mitzy's head shot up and she put a hand over her heart. "The Grangy remembers Mitzy!"

As the other elves all talked excitedly Hermione looked over to Jack, still sitting on the bench with a smile on his face. "What's going on?"

He laughed. "You know S.P.E.W. legislation passed, right? We read about that in History of Magic. Hell, I did a paper on it for detention after getting caught...Merlin, don't tell Gran."

"Potters." Hermione shook her head and returned her attention to the elves. "Please, just call me Hermione. Can you tell me what happened? The last...before I..."

Jack got up from the bench and knelt down next to Hermione. "Mitzy, she doesn't know. She..."

"Disappeared!" Mitzy nodded and then turned to the assembled house elves. "The Grangy doesn't know!"

As murmurs of 'the Grangy doesn't know' passed through the throng of house elves Hermione turned to Jack. "I'm missing something here. I know I should have read that History of Magic book Harry left me, but tell me. Are they free?"

Suddenly the house elves were silent. Mitzy stepped over and tugged on Jack's arm, indicating that she wanted to whisper something to him. He leaned his head down, closed one eye as if debating something and then nodded. Mitzy clapped her hands. "Master Jackie was always a good little master, he was. Come, Grangy, we shows you!"

Jack stood up and held out his hand to Hermione. "Trust me, you wouldn't believe it even if I told you. I'm not sure I believe what's going to happen."

Hermione took his hand as she got to her feet, pleasantly surprised that he didn't let it go. Surprises seemed to be the order of the night, though, as she soon felt many tiny house elf hands on her arm, softly grasping her shirt and then with the familiar squeeze of apparition they were gone.

-ooo-

When Hermione opened her eyes she clapped her hand to her mouth, trying to contain her squeal of happiness. They were in the middle of a square, with houses all around, but they were all very tiny houses. Houses the exact right size for house elves. Houses upon houses, with little streets and signposts, and if that was what she thought it was off in the distance there was even a little school. As she stood there, holding Jack's hand, Mitzy cupped her hands around her mouth and with a magically amplified voice yelled ecstatically "THE GRANGY IS HERE!"

Lights began popping on in little houses, shrieks of excitement and then it seemed to her that every house elf on the face of the earth began pouring out into the streets, heading for her. With shock she looked up to Jack. "What is this place? Have you been here before?"

"No." He shook his head, somewhat stunned. "No. I know what it is, but I've never been here. No witch or wizard has ever been here."

"What do you mean?"

"Hermione..." He lowered his head so only she could hear. "This is house elf land. They are free, and work because they want to, with pay, but they have their own place. To prevent witches and wizards from trying to take back their old servants their land was hidden."

She gasped. "You mean..."

"I'm pretty sure we're the only wand wavers to ever set foot here."

That Hermione was gobsmacked was an understatement. Everything she had ever hoped for the poor house elves had not only come true, but it was better than she could ever have expected. With tears beginning to form in her eyes she saw the crowd of house elves part, as some larger object began to make its way towards her. As it got closer she saw that it was a large, stuffed chintz chair that held a single occupant, mostly covered with a quilt. Eventually the chair was sat down in front of her and she saw a single, ancient-looking house elf raise it's head with large, watery eyes. As a whole Hermione had not met too many house elves personally, but she remembered them vividly. Kreacher, Dobby and...

"Winky!" She knelt down next to the chair and took the wizened and wrinkled house elf's hand in hers. "Winky, is that you?"

The old house elf nodded her head slowly. "It is being me."

Once again excited murmurs broke out amongst the throng of house elves. Ignoring the sound Hermione beamed at the old elf. "It is so good to see you! I'm so happy that...all of this!"

Winky nodded. "It is because of you, it is. House elves be different now."

Hermione wiped a tear from her eye. "Dobby would be so proud of all of you, but especially you, Winky."

Mitzy moved close to the chair and hopped up in it. She smiled widely at Winky before turning to Hermione. "Granny told us stories about the Grangy. She tolds us all the stories. All house elves be knowing about the Grangy."

For the next few hours Hermione felt like it was the end of the Return of the Jedi and she was surrounded by Ewoks. The occasion of her return was the signal for the party to end all parties for the house elves. She sat next to Winky in an exact duplicate of the fabric on Winky's chair with the exception that it was a sofa and Jack sat next to her. She felt like one of the royal family as house elf after house elf came up to her to shake her hand, she was even given house elf babies to hold and marveled at how impossibly tiny they were. She had to decline invitation after invitation to work for her, thankfully having the excuse of not actually owning a home. She did blush several times when some of the more forward of the female house elves offered to take care of her and Jack's babies, unable to glance at Jack when that happened.

Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, though, a cry came up from the crowd to show her the statue. Still in shock she acquiesced, taking Jack's hand, as they were led through the streets to the building that she had correctly assumed was a school. And there it was, the statue, right in front of the school, a statue of her, sitting in a chair, with a house elf on her lap, reading a book. Several little knitted hats decorated the base of the statue and with a sharp intake of breath she knelt down and saw on the base of the statue a figure of Dobby, sleeping soundly. Until she saw Dobby she was in shock, but remembering the little elf, and his sacrifice was too much for her. She knelt down, tears falling, and kissed his head. The assembled crowd was silent, waiting. When she rose Hermione wiped away the tears and after a deep breath felt like she had to say something.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I'm not sure that I rate a statue..." After the clamor that she did deserve a statue died down she continued. "Thank you. You have no idea how happy you have all made me." She gazed out over their beaming faces and saw a mother holding her little one, and until the little one yawned she had no idea how tired she actually was. Yawns, as everyone knows, are contagious, and she couldn't help herself. She yawned.

That was a spark that shot through the crowd like wildfire, as elves all clamored for her attention, telling her that they would take care of her that night. Finally, though, a bang from off to the side quieted everyone.

Mitzy stood there, hands on her hips. "The Grangy is Mr. Jackie's and Mitzy be a Potter elf! I's be taking care of them tonight!" A chorus of disappointed groans went up through the crowd; apparently there was a proper order to things and Mitzy had invoked it. As the house elves all bid her goodnight and returned to their homes, imploring Hermione to visit again, Mitzy stood in front of Jack and Hermione. "I's be taking you to sleep, you be sleeping here tonight."

Hermione looked at her watch for the first time in ages and gasped. It was after midnight; Harry and Ginny must be worried sick. "Mitzy, Harry and Ginny..."

Mitzy waved her off. "Mitzy sent Wobbles to tell Mr. Harry and Mrs. Ginny you be staying on house elf land tonight."

It took longer to get to Mitzy's house than planned, as even though it was obvious to the elves that Hermione and Jack were tired some of them just couldn't resist trying to talk to Hermione one more time that night. Eventually, though, they stood in front of a little house, a house more suited to children than adults. Hermione gave Jack a worried glance. "It looks like the play house my father built for me in the garden when I was little. I don't know how we'll fit...oh." She stopped suddenly, as if realising water was wet. "They're house elves."

"Exactly." Jack took her hand. "And I thought the looks I was getting across the table from Mum tonight were bad enough, but some of those house elves...I haven't even taken you out for dinner yet and they're already planning for babies."

"Yes. Well." Hermione swallowed hard. "Um..."

Mitzy stepped forward and took them by the hand. "I's have to pop you in."

Without another word they once again experienced the sensation of apparition, this time arriving in a very comfortable, if oddly decorated, little home. Thankfully the ceilings were high enough, though some of the more rebellious hairs on Jack's head did come awfully close. They stood together, hand in hand, as Mitzy brought them to a door. With a wave of her hand the house elf opened it and Hermione felt Jack's hand tighten on hers. The room held a single, rather ostentatious bed with ruffles at the bottom and an explosion of flowers over the duvet. Obviously the attraction to flowered fabrics was a family trait for Mitzy. Two bedside tables flanked the bed, with a lamp hovering above, and on one side a giant bouquet of roses seemed to sway in the crystal vase as if blown by a gentle breeze. As they followed Mitzy into the room soft music began playing and once again Jack squeezed Hermione's hand a little tighter.

Bidding them good night and pleasant dreams Mitzy left and closed the door, finally leaving the two of them alone. They stood there, in front of the bed for a moment, and then Hermione couldn't take it. "I think she's trying to set a mood."

"You think?" Jack laughed. "She did the same thing for Mum and Dad's room, right down to the flowers." He pointed to the vase. "Be careful of those. You recognise them?"

She peered cautiously at the flowers. "They would never do anything bad, not to me. I mean, I have a bloody statue for Merlin's sake."

He laughed. "Oh, no, it's not like that, your statueness. Professor Longbottom, those are his. Special variety."

"Neville's?"

Jack shook his head. "Right. Forgot for a moment. Yeah, they're his. Grew them for his wife. Those are Romantic Roses."

Hermione looked at him oddly. "And what do Romantic Roses do? Aren't all roses romantic?"

"Sure, but these special, they..." He seemed slightly embarrassed. "They amplify romantic feelings. Can't put it there if it doesn't exist, but..."

"Jack Potter..."

"I mean, I know things have changed since we got back, but on the island...I didn't want to assume...

"Shut up." Hermione looked at him and for a moment they weren't at the amazing house elf village, she hadn't gone through all of the tests at the Department of Mysteries, he was Jack, the Jack that put her on the back of his motorcycle on the island, the Jack that made her feel alive again. "Shut up." She walked over to him and put her arms around his waist. "I don't think we really need the roses, do you?"

He leaned down and kissed her. For him it all melted away, all of the shit he'd put up with, Sonja, finding out that she was Hermione Granger instead of just Jean, his father's relentless arguments about his job, the women who just wanted to be with him because he was a Potter, it didn't matter. Here was a woman who didn't care about any of that, she just wanted him.

As they tumbled on to the bed in each other's arms Jack Potter knew one thing. She just wanted him, and he sure as hell wasn't going to deny her.

A/N: See, I promised you I'd get back to this story. Just took me a bit, as in order to figure out exactly how many people would be at the Potter dinner I had to map out the family tree; from those who have read the Professor Muggle series this won't be a shock.

And for those who might have caught on and are wondering, yes this is reminiscent of Outlander (without the kilts and such, though I could see Hermione as a match for Jamie Fraser). Since Diana Gabaldon has requested no Outlander fanfiction I plan on honoring her request, but that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun with time travel in the Harry Potter universe. Like Claire, Hermione will have a decision to make. Or two. Or four. Our fifty-seven.

Thanks for reading. Review if you wish.