The sun was just beginning to set when Hermione brought up the idea. Harry, now recovered and full of energy, was busy stacking blocks with Neville in the corner of the room. Hermione, watching them with a fond smile, turned to Augusta.
"How about we go camping?" she suggested, her eyes bright with excitement. "It would be a safe way to let the boys experience something new."
Augusta raised an eyebrow, a hint of concern in her expression. "Camping, Hermione? With both the children? It might be a bit dangerous…"
Hermione smiled reassuringly. "We could camp in the garden instead. We'll keep everything controlled. It'll be right under our noses, and we'll have all the comforts of home just a few steps away. Plus, it could be a lot of fun."
Augusta's face softened, and after a moment of contemplation, she nodded, giving way to a smile. "Well, I suppose a little adventure wouldn't hurt. It sounds delightful."
They spent the rest of the afternoon setting up the campsite. Augusta enchanted a few blankets and pillows, arranging them into a cosy setup under the trees, while Hermione busied herself creating a soft area for the boys to sit and play. The garden transformed into a magical little haven, with glowing lanterns floating overhead and a small fire pit in the centre, waiting to be lit.
As they worked, Hermione found herself chatting comfortably with Augusta. It was easy, their conversation flowing naturally as they laughed about the boys' antics and discussed the simplest things. It felt like a reprieve from the heaviness that had hung over the house for so long.
"I'll head to the kitchen and make some hot chocolate and treats for the boys," Hermione said with a grin as they finished up. "No camping experience is complete without a little indulgence."
Augusta nodded approvingly. "The boys will love that. And so will I," she added with a wink.
In the kitchen, Hermione busied herself gathering ingredients, humming softly to herself as she prepared to make the perfect cup of hot chocolate. She was just about to stir the bubbling pot when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"The house-elves are complaining that you're not letting them do their jobs," Frank said, leaning against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow.
Hermione turned, startled but amused. "I'm making hot chocolate and getting some things ready for the boys. I didn't want to bother them with this."
Frank eyed the ingredients curiously. "Could I help?"
Hermione hesitated, not sure what role Frank wanted to play in all of this. She'd never really seen him in a domestic setting like this. But when she remained quiet, Frank misread her hesitation. He began to step back, his face hardening slightly.
"I didn't mean to intrude," he muttered, turning to leave.
"No, wait," Hermione said quickly, catching his arm. Frank paused, looking down at her hand on his sleeve. She let go and cleared her throat, awkward all of a sudden. "It's not that I don't want you around. I just… I've never done this before either. Camping, I mean. The only time I went was when Harry, Ron, and I were hun—uh, looking for a way to help the Order. Hardly what you'd call a fun experience."
Frank turned back to her, surprise flashing in his eyes. "You mean… tracking down a way to kill You-Know-Who?" His voice was full of astonishment.
"Voldemort," Hermione corrected him, the name slipping out of her mouth with casual ease. Frank winced at the name and stepped back. But before he could respond, his foot slipped on the floor, sending him crashing down onto his bottom.
For a moment, there was silence. Then Hermione burst into laughter, her sides shaking with mirth. Frank, still sitting on the floor, looked up at her with a mixture of annoyance and amusement.
"Glad I could entertain you," he muttered, pretending to be grumpy.
Still laughing, Hermione reached out a hand to help him up. But instead of standing up, Frank grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down.
Hermione yelped as she landed on his lap, their faces inches apart, the warmth of his body against hers.
For a second, neither of them moved. Hermione's breath hitched. They were too close. She could count the barely there freckles on his cheeks. See the scar under his left eyebrow. Feel his heart beating hard against his ribs. Hear him swallowing. Frank's brown eyes bore into hers, and something in her chest fluttered, her face growing warm.
The kitchen door swung open just then, and the house-elves shuffled in, muttering about things getting out of place.
Hermione quickly scrambled off Frank, her face red with embarrassment. Frank, equally flustered, got to his feet.
She grabbed the nearest spoon and thrust it into Frank's hands. "Here! You can stir the hot chocolate."
Frank took it with a mock salute. "Yes, Professor," he teased, his lips quirking into a small smile.
Hermione blushed even harder, turning back to the stove. She focused on the hot chocolate, trying to ignore the way her heart was still racing from their unexpected closeness.
Later that night, they gathered in the garden, the soft glow of the lanterns casting a magical light over the scene. Harry and Neville, thrilled by the idea of staying up past their bedtime, ran around (or rather, stumbled around) the campsite, their laughter echoing in the cool night air. Even Augusta seemed to be enjoying herself. She was sitting on a rocking chair, her legs covered with a thin blanket and a woollen shawl over her shoulders, her wand sending gentle bursts of light into the air that the boys chased after with glee.
Frank crouched near the fire pit, ready to light the sticks on fire with his wand when Hermione stopped him.
"Wait," she said, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Do you know how to start a fire the Muggle way?"
Frank blinked at her, his wand poised mid-air. "The Muggle way?"
She nodded, pulling out a box of matches. "Here, let me show you."
Frank watched with curiosity as she struck the match and carefully lit the kindling. The small flame flickered to life, and soon the fire was crackling warmly in the pit.
"Never had to use this method before," Frank admitted, shaking his head with a small smile.
Hermione shrugged, poking at the fire with a stick. "Harry and I used this method to hide from Death Eaters while we were on the run. Couldn't risk using magic, you know."
Frank looked at her, his expression shifting from curiosity to something more solemn. "I didn't know that."
Before he could ask more, Neville called out from across the campsite. "Nee!" he shouted, reaching for Hermione.
Hermione smiled and made her way over to him. "What is it, Neville?"
"Pway!" Neville said, pointing to Harry, who was trying to climb down from an extremely low tree branch.
Hermione laughed and glanced back at Frank. "Do you want to join us?"
She hadn't expected him to say yes, but to her surprise, Frank stood up and dusted off his hands. "Sure," he said with a grin. "But I'm going to chase you."
The boys squealed in delight as Frank started chasing them around the campsite, his footsteps thudding on the soft grass. Hermione joined in, laughing as Harry and Neville tried to push her away to avoid being caught. They ducked behind trees, hid under blankets, and scrambled across the lawn, their giggles filling the night air.
At one point, Hermione felt strong arms wrap around her waist from behind, and she realised with a start that Frank had caught her. They both stiffened for a moment, their bodies pressed together as they stood frozen in place. Hermione's heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel Frank's breath warm against the back of her neck.
But then, just as quickly, they pulled away, pretending the moment hadn't happened. Hermione joined the boys, laughing and chasing them again, but her mind kept drifting back to the feeling of Frank's arms around her.
Her chest felt uncomfortably warm from the inside, and it was a very strange feeling indeed.
As the night wore on, the boys began to tire. They plopped down by the fire, their little faces flushed with excitement, and demanded food. Hermione grilled cheese sandwiches for them, letting them eat as messily as they wanted. Frank helped them drink their juice through straws, making sure they didn't spill too much on themselves.
Finally, it was time for dessert. Hermione made s'mores, an American dessert she had only read about in books when she was a child but had never tried before (her parents were dentists and would have killed her for trying something that would give her cavities). Harry and Neville were absolutely delighted by the gooey marshmallows and melting chocolate. Their hands and faces were soon covered in sticky sweetness, and Hermione made a mental note to give their teeth an extra thorough brushing later.
After they had finished eating, Neville and Harry got to their feet and stumbled over to Hermione's side. Neville pinched her sleeve and tugged hard. "Owy!"
Harry repeated his friend's actions, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Before Hermione could respond, Augusta cleared her throat and called out, "How about tonight you listen to a story from your gran instead?"
"Wan!" Harry said loudly, and Neville grinned as he repeated the word.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. Would Augusta mind…?
Augusta's eyes went glassy for a moment before she smiled and gestured for the children to come over. "Come here, children. I'll tell you a story."
Harry and Neville toddled over to Augusta before Neville suddenly stopped and frowned.
"What's wrong, Neville?" Hermione asked, getting to her feet.
Neville's lower lip trembled as he gazed up at her. Babbling to himself, he waved his arms around, trying to get his point across.
Now, Hermione didn't understand every word, but she caught a couple of his much more distinguishable words. She smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'll bring you your soft toys."
"He wants his toys?" Frank asked incredulously. "How did you even figure that out?"
"I don't really know which one he wants, but I did hear him say Be-Be and Woah, which are names for his teddy bear and dragon." Hermione Accioed all the soft toys Neville had, and the boys beamed with delight.
Harry tugged Hermione's sleeve and said quietly, "Wankie."
Hermione smiled and ruffled his hair. "Okay, I'll get your blankie too." She Accioed both blankets, and Harry smiled happily before wrapping himself in his as best as he could. Hermione adjusted the top so he could peek out from his cocoon and scooped him up in her arms.
Laughing, Harry wriggled and kicked his feet when she tickled him over the blanket. She grinned and set him down in front of Augusta's legs. Neville frowned and raised his arms at Hermione, who pretended to sigh dramatically before picking him up and wrapping him in his blanket. The two boys were each other's copycats, and Hermione thought it was adorable.
She tickled him as well, making him snort so hard he began to cough. Hermione snickered as she thumped his back gently. Once he was fine, though glassy-eyed, she set him down in front of Augusta. "There you go, Nev."
Augusta was about to start the story when Neville and Harry suddenly threw their blankets off and made a beeline for the toys. Augusta sighed and said, "Looks like I'll never be able to tell them a story."
Hermione laughed and said, "They'll be back soon, I'm sure."
"I hope so," Augusta joked and patiently waited for the boys.
Instead of playing with the soft toys Hermione had Summoned for them, they scooped them up in their arms and tried to carry them towards Augusta.
Oh.
"They want the toys to hear the story too," Hermione said to herself, a small smile playing on her lips. She stepped forward to help, but Harry and Neville whined and shook their heads. "No!"
Hermione chuckled but nodded. "Okay, I won't help."
Neville and Harry talked to each other in their own language as they carefully set the toys near Augusta's feet. First came the dragon, then the cat and the ball, then the winking star and the rainbow. They got a bit confused with the giraffe and the banana, but they frowned, babbled to each other, and adjusted the positioning of the toys until they were finally happy with everything. Only then did they wrap their blankets around their shoulders—like Augusta had done with her shawl—and sit in front of her with their eyes wide open.
"I think you can start now," Frank said loudly.
"Owy!" Neville and Harry cried happily.
"Alright, my dear," Augusta said and leaned back in her chair, slowly rocking in it. "Once upon a time, in a land called Wobbleton, there was a peculiar problem. The kingdom was ruled by a jolly old wizard named Sir Fizzlebottom, who had a special gift: he could make anything he touched float or fly. But one day, his magic went a bit haywire. Instead of making things float, it started making them spin!"
Hermione and Frank sat near the fire, quietly listening. As Augusta's story unfolded, Frank's fingers grazed against Hermione's, sending a jolt through her. She held her breath, waiting, but he moved his hand away, leaving her to wonder if the touch had been accidental or something more.
The night was peaceful, the stars twinkling above them as Augusta's voice lulled the boys into a sleepy daze. Hermione glanced at Frank, her thoughts swirling with everything that had happened between them lately. The distance, the awkward moments, the closeness that seemed to grow despite it all.
And as they sat there, side by side in the quiet of the night, something was beginning to change—something she wasn't sure she was ready to face.