Chapter Text
Rain splattered on the windows of the old building. Inside the bookshop a fire flickered idly in the hearth. It had been dark outside for the better part of the last hour. Hermione knew that she ought to be finishing up sorting the new books, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the little shop. She told herself that it was the cold rain that kept her from leaving, but that wasn’t entirely true.
As she finished organizing the last stack of books, Hermione sighed and looked at the fire. She grabbed her discarded sweater from off the desk and pulled it on. After closing down the shop, she apparated to the front steps of her little house.
Hermione’s cottage was located in the village of Ottery St Catchpole. It was a country-style home with a thatched roof and a mess of gardens in the front yard. In the summers, Hermione grew all manner of vegetables, herbs, and fruit. However, it was early spring, and she had yet to have enough time to properly weed the gardens. They looked more unkempt and unruly every passing day.
She unlocked the door and walked in, happy when the warmth hit her face.
Inside the cottage, it was small, but comfortable. Most of the space was one large room that served as a living room, dining room, and study. A small kitchen was located to the right and a staircase to the left. The staircase led to a small, lofted bedroom with a comfortable bed and bookshelves stacked full.
Hermione walked to the kitchen and filled her kettle with water. She placed it on the stovetop and started it. As the water began to boil, she pulled out one of her favorite mugs, a gift from Ginny. She grabbed her favorite evening tea and gazed out the small window in the kitchen.
Rain continued to fall heavily outside. She could hear it against the windowpanes and the roof above her. It was peaceful, she decided. After a week of rain, it was easy to become rather tired of it, but she had decided long ago that she would find beauty in even the darkness of places.
Nineteen years ago, the war had just ended. Hermione was still a child, but not a normal kind of child. She had been a child that had witnessed war and ruin. She had paid a price of her own for surviving it and often it was easy for her to spiral into anger and fear.
However, the day after the war ended, Hermione had woken up and found that the sun still rose. The skies were still blue, and the world continued to spin onward. She had lived through it and she refused to let the darkness of her trauma poison all the good things in the world.
A week after the war ended, Molly had given Hermione a journal. At the time it had merely been an odd gesture of comfort. Molly didn’t say what she should use it for or even why she had gotten it for Hermione. It ended up sitting on Hermione’s nightstand for about a month before she picked it up and began to write in it.
At first, Hermione wrote about all the worst things she thought. She wrote about how she wished none of the war had happened. She wished Fred, Colin, Tonks, and Remus were still alive. She wished her friends hadn’t been hurt and tormented. She wished she hadn’t been tortured.
After some time of writing about all the terrible things that had happened, she eventually ran out of things to write. It took a while, but the day came when she picked up a quill to journal about the war, but nothing came to her. It was at that moment that Hermione decided to continue writing but she would write about something else.
So, that is what she did.
Hermione woke early in the mornings and wrote about the colors of the sunrise and the way she liked honey in her tea. She wrote about how the flowers outside were blooming or a snowstorm had covered the ground with a fresh dusting. Hermione quickly found that for every terrible thing she had written about there were dozens of tiny, wonderful things.
Healing wasn’t a linear journey and there were still bad days but nineteen years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione found that she loved life.
The kettle hissed, pulling Hermione’s thoughts away from the past and back to the present. She poured water into her mug and stirred in a bit of honey. She took the warm drink and walked back to her living room where she curled up on the couch.
Hermione sat in her living room drinking tea and reading a book until she could no longer keep her eyes open. As always, she walked up her steps and crawled into the warm embrace of her bed. Just as she was about to fall asleep, Hermione remembered one thing.
I was supposed to meet Ginny for coffee tomorrow , she thought to herself as her dreams slowly took her.
Hermione met with Ginny at a small coffee and tea shop in Hogsmeade. Hermione frequented the establishment ever since she began working at Tomes and Scrolls. She ordered a tea and found Ginny sitting in the corner where the sunlight was the brightest. Even from across the shop, Ginny’s radiant hair seemed to glow in the sunlight.
Claiming the seat across from her friend, Hermione smiled. “Sorry I’m a bit late,” she said.
“It’s alright,” Ginny returned the smile. She held a cup of what looked to be a latte between her hands. There was a strange nervousness in Ginny’s demeanor that Hermione noticed almost instantly.
“Is something wrong,” Hermione asked.
“Well, I…I didn’t really invite you here to catch up,” Ginny admitted. A faint tint of red rose to her cheeks. “I mean, I do want to see you more often, it’s just...suppose there’s a little more to it than that.”
“Ginny,” she replied kindly. “What’s going on?”
“I’m just a bit overwhelmed is all.”
Hermione nodded. The last ten years hadn’t been easy for anyone, especially for Harry and Ginny.
“Harry and I…it’s been hard, you know? Everything that’s happened and then we…well…rushed into everything.” Ginny sipped her coffee.
“Nothing that happened to any of us was easy,” Hermione offered. “Relationships…make all that harder sometimes.” She thought of her own failed relationship with Ron.
“They do,” Ginny agreed. “But it’s not like that . It’s just…Harry and I are thinking we need a little trip. A vacation…a summer away from everything.”
“Oh,” Hermione was pleasantly surprised by what Ginny was saying.
“We never got that,” she continued as she sipped down more of the latte. “Harry and I went from school to having kids and jobs really quick. I think we both wanted to forget about everything that happened and move on, but we never got to enjoy all the little parts of us. Ah…I don’t know how to make this make sense…”
“I think it makes perfect sense,” she smiled. “You two want some time to yourselves, is that it?”
Ginny gave a slow and sad nod. “I mean the kids are my world, you know that. It’s just…”
“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Hermione said.
Her friend smiled. “I’m thinking about the summer…I want to go someplace nice with Harry and just enjoy life.”
“That sounds perfect. You two deserve that.”
“The thing is,” Ginny said shakily, “my mum can’t want the kids.”
“Oh,” Hermione was surprised by this. Molly was always so excited to have her grandchildren around. It was hard to imagine her not wanting them for the summer.
“So, that’s why I thought of asking you,” she grimaced as she said it as if asking Hermione was a terribly wrong thing to do.
“You want me to watch James, Lily, and Albus?”
“Only if it’s not asking too much–but it is, isn’t it? You can’t just go around asking friends to watch your kids–I don’t-”
“Ginny,” Hermione said slightly louder than she meant to. “Of course you can ask me.”
“Really? Do you mind? Ron said he can watch them occasionally, he just can’t do it all summer because of his job. I figured since you work in Hogsmeade and have a regular schedule, it might be easier for you to be around.”
Hermione nodded, still a bit surprised by the situation she found herself in. She loved children, especially Harry and Ginny’s kids. However, summer was approaching and she hadn’t been expecting to have children staying with her.
Hermione and Ginny talked for several hours in the comfort of the little cafe. After Hermione reassured Ginny that it was no problem to have the kids at her house over the summer, the conversation turned to other matters. They talked about the latest updates at Harry’s job as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Hermione told Ginny about how her own job had been going and how she missed the library at Hogwarts.
“I’m sure Harry could sneak you in,” Ginny winked.
Hermione laughed. “Oh, I think I’ve done enough sneaking around Hogwarts for a lifetime.”
Ginny’s eyes widened suddenly. “I didn’t tell you, did I?”
“Tell me what?”
“Albus found Harry’s Cloak of Invisibility.”
“No,” Hermione wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or not. “He didn’t.”
“He did,” Ginny said with a sigh. “And he brought it to Hogwarts…I can’t believe it took us months to find out.”
Hermione laughed. “He sounds like he’s taking after Harry after all.”
“It’s only his first year and already he’s causing more problems than James,” she shook her head but smiled.
“I suppose that’s what Harry deserves.”
“History repeats itself, I suppose,” Ginny said.
Hermione nodded, thinking of Harry sneaking around Hogwarts as a child. Now, it only made sense that he would be tasked with reigning in his own mischievous children.
“Maybe not all history,” said Ginny with a sudden look of amusement.
Hermione wasn’t sure what she was referring to. She looked at Ginny, waiting for her friend to continue.
“Do you know who Albus’s best friend is?”
“No, I suppose he and James still don’t get on well?”
“Eh, they’re brothers,” Ginny shrugged. “I’m talking about Scorpius.”
“Who?”
“Draco Malfoy’s child, Scorpius,” Ginny clarified. “He’s best friends with Albus. So, like I said, not all history repeats itself. He’s a good kid, almost the complete opposite of his father as far as I’ve seen.”
“Really?” Hermione was perplexed by this. Of all the people she had anticipated hearing about, Draco Malfoy was fairly low on that list. She supposed that she had heard about him having a child with his wife, Astoria, some time ago, but she had (for obvious reasons) never kept up with the tabloids.
“Yeah, Scorpius and Albus are practically attached at the hip. They don’t do anything without each other.”
“How is Harry…handling that?” Hermione decided to choose her words carefully.
“At first, it was weird, I mean, you know the history,” Ginny looked at her drink. She stirred what little remained of the latte. “But Scorpius is a good kid and he can’t control who his family is. If he’s Albus’s friend, he’s Albus’s friend. There’s not much we can do about that. Besides, even Draco has…calmed down a bit.”
Hermione bit back what she had thought about saying. “I suppose time can change anyone,” she said diplomatically.
While she liked to think she had moved on from the war, not everything was so easy to forgive. As far as Deatheaters went, Draco had gotten off with little more than a slap on the wrist. Now, he and his family lived happily, likely in the very mansion she had been tortured in.
“It is strange,” Ginny admitted. “But ever since the boys became friends, it’s been somewhat hard to avoid him. Just the other night Harry asked him to have a beer after work.”
Hermione flinched at the comment, spilling the remnants of her tea across the table and onto the floor. Ginny yelped and immediately rushed in with napkins, the reflexes of a mother.
“Sorry,” Hermione helped her clean up the mess. “I just…sorry, I think I heard you wrong.”
This time, Ginny laughed. It was a bright, full laugh. Her eyes met Hermione’s.
“No,” she said. “You heard me right. I didn’t want to tell you…at first. But…since you’re willing to help this summer…you should know about everything.”
Hermione didn’t know what to say, so instead, she focused on wiping up the table.
“He’s not like how he used to be,” Ginny said quietly. “But you won’t have to see him or anything. I just thought you should know he’s been…around.”
“And Harry…asked him out to a beer?”
“Just one,” Ginny said.
“ One ? We’re talking about Draco Malfoy…”
“I know it’s...unorthodox,” she admitted, flipping a strand of her vivid red hair out of her eyes. “But he’s not how you remember him.”
“I think I’ll just take your word for it,” Hermione said quietly. “I’d rather not interact with him if I can avoid it.”
“You won’t have to,” Ginny said. “Probably.”