1977- late March - Dumbledore Manor

It was late afternoon when Gideon stepped out of the fireplace in the kitchen at Dumbledore Manor. His day at the ministry had been tiring, and when Moody had barked at him to go home, he didn't hesitate. He had only gone home to shower and change out of his Auror robes into more casual day robes before heading straight for the manor.

A loud pop echoed through the kitchen, and before Gideon could blink, a small figure materialised in front of him. The house-elf—dressed in a neatly pressed, dark red tea towel embroidered with a tiny golden phoenix—clasped her hands together and let out an exaggerated gasp.

"Oh! Mister Prewett is coming, just like Mistress Minnie is saying! Pippy is waiting, oh yes, waiting all day!" She bounced on her feet, her large green eyes sparkling with delight, before she took a step closer and narrowed them suspiciously.

Gideon had no time to greet her before Pippy tilted her head, her ears twitching as she slowly walked in a circle around him, inspecting him from head to toe.

"Hmmm," she hummed dramatically, tapping a bony finger against her chin. "Mister Prewett looks like a good wizard. Sounds like a good wizard. Smells like—" She inhaled deeply. "Toffee and ink. Suspicious, very suspicious."

Gideon raised an amused eyebrow. "Suspicious, am I?"

Pippy stopped in front of him, arms on her hips, staring up at him as if trying to see straight into his head. "Mister Prewett is… important to Young Mistress, yes?" She said, watching him closely.

Gideon hesitated for the briefest moment—something flickering in his expression that Pippy, in all her wisdom, did not miss—his fingers brushing over the cuff of his sleeve before he let out a breath and smiled. "I'd like to think so," he said gently.

Pippy's eyes narrowed further before, quite suddenly, she grinned. "Hmmph! Pippy will see, oh yes, Pippy will watch!" She waggled a long finger at him. "But no, Mister Prewett must follow! Mistress Minnie is saying, 'If Gideon comes, Pippy must be taking him to the potions lab—no sneaking, no wandering!'" Pippy mimicked Hermione's stern voice before breaking into giggles.

Gideon looked at the tiny elf, shaking his head. He had met quite a lot of house-elves, but none quite like Pippy. Dumbledore was written all over the tiny creature. He chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'll behave."

"Good, good! Then Mister Prewett must follow Pippy! Quickly, quickly! Pippy is showing Mister Prewett the real Dumbledore Manor—oh yes, the grand part, the important part!"

As they walked, the air around them shifted. Gone were the familiar corridors filled with cosy fireplaces and tapestries—the small, functional spaces used by the Order. Here, the manor expanded, revealing its full grandeur.

The entry hall was so vast it reminded Gideon of Hogwarts. Instead of stone floors, the polished marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of enchanted chandeliers. Massive windows stretched high above, allowing the afternoon sun to spill in, casting long shadows across the walls.

To the left, a grand staircase curved up both sides of the hall, its bannister lined with small floating lanterns. Situated in the middle of the stairs was a doorway, leading to what Gideon presumed was the ballroom, with high ceilings and polished wooden floors.

Pippy trotted ahead, her small feet making soft pattering sounds against the marble. "Pippy and the other house-elves is keeping everything perfect for Mistress Minnie and Master Albus, oh yes! Even if no one is throwing a grand ball, we is polishing the floors! Even if no one is sitting in the sunroom, we is dusting the chairs! Must be ready, must be perfect!"

They passed a drawing room, its velvet-upholstered chairs gathered around an enormous fireplace, and beyond that, a sunroom with enchanted glass walls, offering a clear view of the gardens outside. The greenery thrived, untouched by the season.

Gideon let out a low whistle. "This place is massive." While he grew up in a manor himself, Dumbledore's manor was something else entirely.

Pippy huffed, clearly unimpressed. "Of course it is! This is Dumbledore Manor! Not some tiny Auror office! This is a home for great witches and wizards! And for Young Mistress, it must be grand!"

Gideon smirked at the little elf. "You think quite highly of her, don't you?"

Pippy skidded to a stop so suddenly that Gideon nearly walked into her. She turned, her expression softer than before, a small hand over her heart. "Mistress Minnie is everything to Pippy! Young Mistress is smart, strong, and kind. But even the strongest witches is needing someone to be looking after them."

Then, as if catching herself being too sentimental, Pippy straightened and jabbed a finger at him again. "Mister Prewett will remember that, yes? Pippy is watching, oh yes, watching very closely!"

Gideon chuckled and held her gaze before nodding. "Yeah. I will."

Satisfied, Pippy gave a sharp nod and resumed her quick pace down the corridor. The scent of herbs and bubbling potions grew stronger as they approached a heavy wooden door. Pippy knocked sharply, then turned back to Gideon with a mischievous grin. "Young Mistress is working very hard, oh yes, very serious business! But Pippy thinks she will be happy to see young Mister Prewett." She gave him one last knowing look before pushing the door open with a dramatic flourish.

Once Pippy left, Gideon stepped through the heavy wooden door, the warmth of the room enveloping him. The space was lined with shelves of neatly labelled jars, filled with different ingredients he faintly recognised from school. Three cauldrons bubbled steadily on the central worktable, sending up different-coloured steam. Standing over it all, completely lost in her work, was Hermione.

Despite Pippy's sharp knock, she hadn't noticed him yet, too focused on the cauldron in front of her. The steam had strands of her already wild curls clinging to her temples, while others floated as if enchanted by the air itself. A small crease had formed between her brows, her lips pursed in concentration as she carefully measured out what looked to be powdered unicorn horn.

Gideon leaned against the doorframe, watching her for a moment. He had never seen her look so effortlessly at home and in her element. And,Merlin help him, she looked beautiful.

Not in the way most people might think. It wasn't the kind of beauty that demanded attention, but rather the subtle kind that snuck up on you. The thought startled him. He always found her fascinating. Brilliant and sometimes stubborn. But this was different.

He cleared his throat, forcing his thoughts aside. "You know, Shortstuff, I think your hair has decided to stage a rebellion."

Hermione startled slightly upon hearing his voice before her lips curled into a warm smile.

"Gideon!" she exclaimed, turning her body fully towards him. "I didn't expect you to come by so early."

He smirked, pushing off the doorframe and stepping inside. "Moody sent me home before I could collapse on my desk. I think he was getting tired of watching me rub my eyes like a sleep-deprived sixth-year. Thought I'd take the opportunity before he changed his mind." His gaze flicked around the lab before settling back on her. "And clearly, I arrived just in time. This is a dire situation." He gestured dramatically at her hair.

Hermione huffed, turning her attention back to her cauldron. "It's the steam," she defended. "It makes my hair frizz up."

"Frizz up? Hermione, I think it's alive."

She rolled her eyes but didn't bother to hide the smile that spread over her face. "And here I thought you came to admire my brewing skills, not mock my hair." She watched in satisfaction as the potion turned a dark red colour before extinguishing the flame underneath the cauldron with a gentle wave of her hand.

Gideon grinned. "Oh, trust me, I'm very impressed. With both your brewing and the fact that your hair seems to have a life of its own."

The laugh that followed Hermione as she went to the other side of the room made him grin even wider. "Very funny, Ginger Snap."

When she returned with a jar of mandrake leaves, she glanced at him, her expression softening. "I really didn't think you'd have time to stop by. You must be exhausted."

He shrugged. "Not more than usual."

She studied him for a moment, as if weighing his answer, before giving a small nod. "I asked Pippy to greet you, just in case."

A warm feeling spread through his chest. With the Order meeting scheduled for that evening, she hadhopedhe'd come early. And she had made sure that he would be able to find her. She could have asked the elf to fetch her once he arrived, but instead, she allowed him to come to her.

"You know," he said, leaning casually against the workbench, "Pippy was rather…excitedto march me through the manor. I don't think I ever met an elf like her."

Hermione let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "She's very excited that I allowed you in." She looked at Gideon and noticed his sudden proximity to her. "She and the other elves get excited when a visitor comes by. They usually stay out of the area that is used for headquarters."

"And I imagine not a lot of people get to see the rest of the manor, huh?"

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she carefully adjusted the flame beneath the last cauldron before finally turning back to him. "No. Just family."

For some reason, the words settled in Gideon's chest in a way he didn't expect. Just family.

But instead of pushing, he gestured toward the cauldron. "So, I recognise the Blood-Replenishing Potion and the Wound-Cleaning Potion. What, though, is that?"

"It's a bruise-removal paste I developed last year. It removes any bruise within twenty-four hours, and when finished, it turns into a thick, yellow paste." While she said it, the contents of the cauldron did in fact turn into a thick, yellow paste.

Extinguishing the last flame, she turned towards the shelf with a thoughtful expression. Gideon watched in awe as she wiggled her fingers here and there, and empty vials and small tins flew out of the shelves towards them. They lined themselves up near the three cauldrons, hovering in the air as a ladle started filling them up.

"You've been at this all day, haven't you?"

"More or less," she admitted, glancing at the clock on the wall. A flicker of surprise crossed her face as if she hadn't realised how much time had passed.

"How about a break from this tedious work over a cup of tea?" Gideon chuckled.

Hermione dusted off her hands and turned toward him, a small, knowing smile on her lips. "Alright then, but if we're having tea, we're doing it properly. The sunroom catches the best light at this time of day."

Without giving it much thought, she looped her arm through his, guiding him towards the door without hesitation. The simple act sent a surprising warmth through his chest—not that he would admit it. It was nothing, really. Just a small, familiar gesture. But somehow, it felt...easy.

"I think your hair has finally accepted defeat," he mused as they stepped into the hallway.

Hermione let out a soft laugh, nudging him lightly with her elbow. "I'll take it as a compliment that you can't stop talking about my hair."

"Take it however you want. But I do admit, I'm a little sad to see it go. It had real spirit."

She shook her head in amusement, a smile stretching over her lips.

The sunroom, true to its name, was bathed in golden light, the final rays of the afternoon sun filtering through the enchanted windows. Outside, the vast gardens of the manor stretched endlessly with patches of wildflowers swaying gently in the evening breeze.

Hermione sank into the small sofa, tucking her legs beneath her as she gazed out at the peaceful scenery. Gideon, seated beside her, stretched an arm along the back of the sofa, tilting his head towards the sun.

Before either of them could speak, a familiar pop echoed through the room.

"Pippy is bringing tea, oh yes! Mistress Minnie is drinking tea now, no arguing!" The tiny elf stood beside them balancing an ornate silver tray with two steaming cups, a small pot of honey, and an absurdly large plate of shortbread biscuits and scones.

"Pippy is making the best tea! Mistress Minnie must be drinking, and Mister Prewett must be drinking too because you's looking like crumpled laundry!"

Gideon choked on a laugh, reaching for a cup. "Crumpled laundry?"

Pippy nodded seriously, setting the tray down with care. "Yes! Mister Prewett is wrinkly and tired. Pippy is knowing these things!"

Gideon grinned, lifting his cup in surrender. "Well, can't argue with that." He took a sip, an appreciative sigh escaping his lips. "Alright, I'll admit it. This is excellent."

Pippy preened, looking entirely too pleased. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she turned her large, suspicious eyes on Hermione.

"Young Mistress must be eating too! No skipping meals like bad time before!"

Hermione sighed dramatically, reaching for a scone to appease the tiny elf. "Yes, yes, Pippy. Hermione is eating."

Pippy narrowed her eyes. "Mistress Minnie is saying this before. Mistress Minnie is lying before."

"I am not lying!" Hermione said, taking an exaggerated bite out of the scone while Gideon watched in amusement.

Pippy sniffed, unimpressed. "Pippy is watching." She turned to Gideon, eyes narrowing further. "And Mister Prewett must be eating too! Stupid, stupid Aurors! Always running, never eating, falling down like clumsy baby hippogriffs—flop, flop, FLOP!"

Gideon held up his hands, still chuckling. "Alright, alright! I'll eat, I promise." He grabbed a biscuit to prove his point, taking a bite just like Hermione had.

Pippy huffed but seemed satisfied with their obedience. "Good. But Pippy is watching, oh yes! Always watching." She gave them both one last look before vanishing with a loud pop.

The second she was gone, Gideon turned to Hermione with a smirk. "I think I just got told off by your house elf."

Hermione snorted very unladylike. "Now you know what I deal with daily."

"She said I looked like a crumpled laundry."

"Well," Hermione said, sipping her tea, eyes twinkling. "She's not entirely wrong."

Gideon scoffed, shaking his head with a grin. "At least my hair doesn't start rebellions without my consent."

Gideon let her laughter ring through the room before turning his body towards her. "So… what's with the potions?"

Hermione's fingers traced the edge of her cup before she answered, not yet meeting his eyes. "I wanted to contribute to the Order without overtaxing myself. It lets me help without putting me in the middle of everything."

Gideon nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad you found a way to help without putting yourself at risk."

"I should be doing more."

He shook his head. "No, I think you should do whatever you feel comfortable with at the moment." He sighed, waiting for her to look up at him. "Besides, supplying potions is a massive help. The only competent brewer we have is Fleamont, and he is quite preoccupied with work and other tasks for the Order."

Hermione lifted her head slowly, looking at him with wonder.

"What?"

"Just wondering how you always know exactly what to say," she mused, her body relaxing back into the sofa, bringing her closer to him.

Gideon tilted his head slightly, watching her. "That's what I do, Shortstuff. Offer wisdom, drink tea, and get insulted by house-elves."

Hermione huffed a laugh, but she didn't look away this time. Their elbows still touched where they rested on the sofa, and Gideon could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her sleeve. Strange, how natural it felt.

"Speaking of Fleamont, Euphemia invited me to spend Easter at Potter Manor."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Hermione hesitated. "Yes. No. I don't know." She sighed. "It's not Effie or Fleamont I'm worried about. It's the boys."

Understanding flickered across Gideon's face. "You mean James and his friends."

She nodded. "They're still students. They're reckless, curious, and smart. I don't know if they'd be able to keep my identity to themselves. There would be no point in lying; they'd figure out something wasn't quite right the second I met them."

"You're right. James and Sirius, especially, wouldn't be able to leave it alone."

"I just don't want to have to pretend to be someone I'm not. I'm rather proud of who I am and who my parents are. I feel like it would be a disservice to my mother, especially on Easter, to pretend I'm someone else," she murmured, leaning her head back on the sofa with a sigh. "I know my father wants to keep my identity a secret for as long as possible, which I fully agree with. So the fewer people know, the better. I'm sure the boys will meet me sooner or later."

Gideon smirked, stretching his legs out. "Well, if they do meet you, I sincerely hope I get to witness the chaos firsthand."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, trust me—you'll want to be far, far away when that happens."

Gideon swirled the last of his tea in his cup. "So, how was your grand adventure to Hogsmeade with Effie? I half expected her to deck you out in new robes."

Hermione laughed, grateful for the change in conversation. "She did try, but I stopped her after the third dress robe made its way to the counter. And she introduced me to Rosmerta, who is just as lively as your stories made her out to be."

Gideon grinned proudly. "Told you she was brilliant."

"She is," Hermione agreed, taking a slow sip of her tea. "It was nice being outside the manor for a little while."

Gideon watched her carefully, noting the way she absently rubbed her thumb over the rim of her cup.

"But?" he prompted.

Hermione hesitated, then sighed. "I just felt so…aware of myself. It's silly, really. I felt like an intruder in a world that kept going without me."

Gideon's brows knit together. "That's not silly at all." His voice was softer now, more serious. "You went through something horrible, and your whole life changed. I think it's normal that stepping out feels a little… off."

"I suppose so," she murmured, shifting slightly in her seat.

"For what it's worth, I think you're handling everything exceptionally well."

Hermione ignored the warmth that spread through her at his words and looked at him, her gaze searching. "And you?"

Gideon blinked. "Me?"

She tilted her head slightly, the golden light casting a soft glow over her features. "You're always worried about how I'm doing. But how are you handling everything?"

For a moment, he hesitated. He wasn't used to that question. Not in a way that actually required an honest answer.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Honestly? It's… exhausting."

Hermione didn't say anything, just watched him.

He let out a small chuckle. "Between the ministry, Order missions, and keeping Fabian from getting himself into trouble, I don't remember the last time I had a proper night's sleep." His fingers tapped lightly against his thigh. "And then there's Molly."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Your sister?" Gideon had mentioned her a few times, but not in much detail. She knew that her husband, Arthur, was part of the Order.

He nodded. "Yeah. She's got so much on her plate with the little ones, and I know she worries. She's safe enough, with all the wards around the house, but with Arthur, Fabian, and me part of the Order, she can't help but fret every time we leave her house. I can't help thinking— He stopped, shaking his head slightly.

"That she shouldn't have to worry about any of this?" Hermione guessed, her voice soft.

Her glances at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah."

Hermione shifted slightly on the sofa, turning her body more towards him, her legs still tucked beneath her. "What about Fabian?"

Gideon let out a quiet laugh. "He's the reckless one between the two of us. Always jumping headfirst into things without thinking them through. He's brilliant; don't get me wrong. But sometimes I feel like I spend most of my life pulling him out of trouble."

"You know, you don't always have to be the one keeping everything together."

He looked at her, surprised by the tone in her voice.

She shrugged. "You said it yourself. You're exhausted. And yet you're still here, checking on me, making sure I'm okay." Her gaze softened further. "When was the last time you let someone do the same for you?"

Gideon's chest tightened. He wasn't sure if it was the words or the way she said them like she truly meant them. Like she saw him.

He cleared his throat, offering a small smile. "Maybe I just like checking in on you, Shortstuff."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Deflection."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. Point taken."

Gideon let out a slow breath, running a hand down his face. "You know," he started, hesitating just for a moment before continuing, "being here with you… it helps."

Hermione tilted her head. "It does?"

He gave a half-smile. "Yeah, I don't know how to explain this. Everything outside of here is heavy. Work, the war, family. I never really stop worrying." He let out a breath, shaking his head. "But when I'm here, drinking tea, reading a book, or getting berated by a charming house-elf…" His lips twitched and Hermione let out a soft chuckle. "It's like—for a little while—I can breathe."

"Well," she said after a moment, "lucky for you, I have a lifetime supply of tea and an elf who considers bossing us around her favourite pastime."

Gideon chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah. Lucky me."

A sharp pop echoed through the sunroom, and Pippy appeared with her hands on her hips, looking unimpressed.

"Mister Prewett is forgetting time!"

Gideon blinked. "I am?"

Pippy huffed, throwing her arms in the air. "Oh yes, yes! Pippy hears other Mister Prewett pacing and huffing in the kitchen."

Gideon groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Of course he is."

Pippy rounded on Hermione. "And Mistress Minnie is drinking tea, yes. Is eating, maybe. But is it enough?"

Hermione, trying to hold back her laugh, lifted her teacup. "More than enough, Pippy. You've outdone yourself."

Pippy squinted suspiciously before turning back to Gideon. "And Mister Prewett? Pippy is watching, oh yes! Pippy is seeing!" She pointed at the plate. "Mister Prewett is only eating two biscuits! Two! This is not enough for stupid, running-around Aurors!"

Gideon raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried you're keeping count?"

Hermione shook her head fondly. "Pippy, Gideon is fine."

Pippy sniffed dramatically, clearly unconvinced. "Pippy is not sure. But Mister Prewett must go now! Other Mister Prewett is grumpy, and Mister Moody is looking like he will hex something!"

Gideon sighed in defeat, standing up. "Merlin help me if Moody gets involved." He turned to Hermione, flashing her a lopsided grin. "Guess I'll see you around?"

Before Hermione could reply, Pippy latched onto his sleeve and yanked with surprising strength. "Mister Prewett is coming NOW! No sneaky-sneaky, no stalling!"

With a final exasperated pop, Pippy and Gideon vanished into thin air, leaving Hermione alone in the warm glow of the sunroom, a teasing smile on her lips.