Chapter Text
“Did you know you were pregnant before you, well, ran?” Ginny asked, fingers lacing loosely in her lap. “Tell me properly.”
Hermione let the cup settle back to its saucer. The porcelain clicked softly, a tiny bell.
“I didn’t know I was pregnant at all. I delivered Scorpius the same day I found out about him. I went to a hospital because I thought I was ill, having the most excruciating stomach pains. When I got there, they told me I was in labor and having a baby. I was eighteen, I had no plan, and nothing for a baby.”
She drew a slow breath.
“I learned to swaddle from a nurse who called me brave without understanding anything at all. I had to secretly transfigure a diaper into a muggle baby carrier because I simply didn’t have the supplies. If I didn’t have Viktor’s help, I don’t think I would have survived.”
Ginny’s hand moved toward the cup in front of her, then paused.
“You could have told me, Hermione. I swear I would have helped! I would never have ratted you out to the Syndicate.”
Hermione shook her head.
“I wanted you safe from the truth,” Hermione said, the words even, each one lifted and placed with care. “I hurt Draco, Ginny. I messed up that Obliviate spell and then ran. He was ready. We were ready. Gin, he was going to just, just give it all up for me. And as much as I wanted to run away with him, I knew…I knew that he would never be safe with me.”
Ginny reached for her drink and held it without tasting it.
“Why wouldn’t Draco be safe with you?”
Hermione looked toward the door where the bedroom lay in shadowed quiet.
“Nikolai…he caught me.” she said, and her voice did not falter. “He threatened to show my father his memory of Draco and I, uh, well in an alcove if I ran away with him. So he gave me an ultimatum. He said that if I could find a way to quietly leave the Syndicate to him, run away and never return, he would keep the secret. If I stayed with Draco, he’d have told my father and we both would have been killed.”
Ginny’s eyes lifted quickly, tears in them. She brought a hand to her mouth in shock.
“Hermione!” she ran to give the girl a hug. “I didn’t…we didn’t know. No one knew what happened.”
“It was a long time ago.” Hermione answered, heat rising along her neck. “I chose Draco’s life over death, and, if I had to do it all again, I would. My only regret is that I used Obliviation.”
Ginny shook her head.
“They would have used Legillimency on him.” Ginny said, setting her cup down with care. “If you didn’t erase his memories, well, it could always be worse.”
Hermione wanted to accept that grace. She watched the steam unravel above Ginny’s drink and imagined it carrying the thought through the room and pinning it to the wall.
“It’s all gone to shit now though, Gin. The reason I’m here, the reason we’re back in the Wizarding World, it’s because Scorpius got an acceptance letter from Beauxbatons. I worry that word will reach Nikolai.”
Ginny sighed.
“You’re not going to like this, Hermione, but you should know.” Ginny said, her voice gentling further. “Draco, well, last I heard he’s the Potions Professor at Beauxbatons. I…I still keep in contact with Theo and, and Jenna, you know? We all got really close after you left. We, honestly, we thought you died.”
Hermione closed her eyes for a single beat. She saw an old Hogwarts corridor, a wand, and a mouth that tasted of spearmint. She opened them again to the four walls of the room they’d rented for their temporary foire into France.
“Originally, I thought I could just take the memories before our relationship turned romantic and leave the rest whole,” she said, picking each word carefully. “I thought I could cut myself out and it would be simple as that. I don’t know the extent of the damage, but I do know that the spell backfired and I panicked.”
Ginny leaned forward, both forearms balanced on her knees, the way she used to sit on Hermione’s bed with a stack of contraband Honeydukes.
“Tell me plainly. Did you see him after?”
“No.” Hermione traced the seam in the cushion with her fingertip as if it were a map. “I left immediately. I only know what I have heard from a distance as he fell unconscious.”
Ginny shook her head.
“Rumors have been rampant for a decade, Mi.” Ginny said, her mouth tightening. “And Draco, well, according to Theo, our Draco is gone.”
Hermione’s breath thinned.
“I deserve this.” she acknowledged, voice barely above a sigh. “I committed such a horrid act.”
Ginny’s gaze drifted to the closed door.
“No, Hermione, you were given an impossible choice.” she murmured. “And, after all, everyone deserves second chances, no? You’ll just have to make him fall in love with you again.”
Hermione vehemently shook her head.
“I will stay far away from Draco. I have messed up his life once, it is better if I stay dead and burried.”
“But what about Scorpius? Doesn’t he deserve the chance to get to know his father?” Ginny answered.
“I don’t want Scorpius to get hurt because of my decisions.” She said, and the admission felt so unlike the calm, badass, self-assured witch she used to be a decade ago.
“It’s not your choice to make, Hermione.” Ginny answered, setting her cup down. “You have to let Scorpius decide if he wants to explore who his father is or not. And if he gets hurt, then you can be there to pick up the pieces.”
Hermione’s hands found the warm edge of her cup again.
“The Malfoys’ are just as ruthless as the Grangers’. I don’t want that life for Scorpius. The Malfoys would take Scorpius the minute they discovered his lineage.”
“Alright. We’ll table this for another day. I’m still right pissed at you and you are still a bitch for ghosting us for a decade, but, I am here now and I will help you however I can.”
Hermione laughed.
“So, now it’s my turn to ask the questions. What are you doing here, Gin?”
“Oh, I’m a Quidditch player now.” Ginny replied with a wink. “I’m a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. We're here for a tour, actually. A series if you will.”
Hermione lifted her head, the thought catching.
“That’s amazing! Congratulations.” she murmured. “Did you get married to Harry? Do you have any children?”
Ginny smiled thinly, years and hurts layered into one curve.
“I did, for a blessed few hours. Harry and I, we got married shortly after Hogwarts, and wasted no time trying for children. Well, there were some complications and our son, James, didn’t make it. It was devastating for both of us and we ended up splitting not long after. I went to play for the Harpies and the rest is history.”
Hermione hugged her friend, both of them crying messes now.
“I am so sorry, Ginny.”
“Like you said, it was a long time ago.” Ginny said, letting the hug go. “It’s okay. I’m okay now, though, I can certainly say my dating life has tanked since.”
Hermione laughed.
“Are you still getting laid regularly?”
Ginny grinned
“Well, being a Quidditch player does have it’s perks.”
The girls giggled together, Hermione shaking her head. She had never found it in her heart to move on. Could never find it in her heart to move on. She felt she did not deserve it, that it would be unfair to love another when her heart still beat for the man she betrayed.
“Well, how about you, Hermione? Viktor turned out to be quite the hunk, huh?”
Hermione laughed.
“Oh Merlin no, Gin. Viktor is like my older brother. His wife passed away about seven years ago, actually.”
Ginny frowned.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is that why he still wears his wedding ring?”
Hermione nodded.
“I’m afraid we’re a couple of old fools, unable to move on from those we’ve left behind or who’ve left us.”
The clock on the mantel gave a tiny click as the minute turned. Ginny rose first, smoothing her skirt, the movement spare and neat as she glanced at the clock.
“I booked a room around the corner,” she said, reaching for her coat. “If you need me, just owl. We can pick this up tomorrow.”
“I’m glad you kidnapped me, Ginny. I really did miss you.” Hermione replied, a smile pulling at her mouth despite herself.
“Me too, Hermione. I’m so glad you’re alive.” Ginny answered, and the door paused on her palm before it clicked shut. “Good night, Mi.”
Morning would come with lists and errands and a conversation owed to a boy who would be walking into the dark unarmed. Hermione turned away, folded the blankets on the sofa, and lay down with her face toward the window, where the city smeared itself into a watercolor of pale lines and moving dots. She let the sound of the street lull in and out and waited for sleep to find her, ready to face the creeping past that had already stepped across her threshold.
Quidditch. Hermione should have known those two would waste no time introducing Scorpius to Quidditch. Inside, shelves rose in narrow aisles, each lined with protective gear, snitches, beaters bats and the like. Scorpius leaned against the counter, eyes bright, questions arriving in quick succession. Ginny fielded them with nimble answers. Viktor offered a single correction when Scorpius mixed up two positions, his tone quiet, his accent turning the consonants to velvet.
Ginny caught the thread and teased him by referencing a match in Varna where he chose a dive that made headlines for a month. Viktor’s mouth curved in that rare way that shifted his whole face younger, and he inclined his head. Their exchange moved as easily as a rally, crisp passes, clean catches, the kind of rhythm that requires both skill and trust. Hermione stepped back to watch them from the end of the aisle. Scorpius had a pair of adults who could meet him in this language without effort. She could stand a pace behind and be only mother, the person who paid and packed and reminded him to eat.
They left with a modest bundle, a starter kit tucked under Scorpius’ arm and a Firebolt in hand. At a pâtisserie, they claimed a corner table near the pane where the street swam by in color. The case held rows of tarts under polished panels, glazed fruit nested in cream, sugar dust soft like first snow across the edges.
Scorpius chose lemon and dissected it with care, savoring the tartness, touching the tip of his tongue to the spoon, leaving no crumb of sugar. The afternoon unfurled in small errands that stitched themselves together into a fond memory. Scorpius fell into step beside Hermione and bumped her hip with his shoulder.
“Mom,” he murmured, tone full of planning. “Do you think Uncle Viktor likes your friend.”
Hermione kept her eyes on the cobblestones, though amusement tugged at her mouth.
“Perhaps, he is friendly with her.” she answered, thoughtful. “But they've only just met, Scorp.”
Scorpius shook his head knowingly.
“But he smiles at her,” Scorpius replied, voice brighter. “That seems like a fine start.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. How sweet that her son had such a pure and innocent thought of love.
“So a smile is the indicator, huh?” Hermione said, unable to suppress a quiet laugh.
Scorpius leaned closer as if to keep the air from stealing his idea.
“What if I invite them both to watch a Quidditch match when term starts? We could give them the good seats next to each other.”
Hermione slid him a look that glittered with maternal warning and mischief in equal measure.
“I see that your hobby has expanded from reading to social engineering.”
Scorpius grinned and bumped his mothers shoulder.
“Uncle Viktor needs a woman,” Scorpius replied with grave dignity, adopting her earlier tone. “He deserves happiness, too.”
She tried to match his solemnity and failed, her smile spilling out despite the vow she had made at sunrise to worry through the day.
“If it's meant to be, it will happen naturally.”
“Yes but I can be a catalyst!” he promised, already scanning the square for Viktor and Ginny.
“Scorpius, do be serious." she reminded him, softening her words with a brush of her fingers against his sleeve. “Ginny and Viktor belong to themselves. You can't meddle in the lives of adults.”
He took this in with a thoughtful hum.
“We just have to keep pushing them together,” he added, brightening, completely ignoring his mothers warning, as if already dead set on the idea. “We could invite them to dinner and make them sit at the small table where elbows bump. The small table works better than stadium seats.”
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, feigning despair.
“You are turning twelve in two months. What do you know about love?”
“I read your books sometimes.” he answered, delighted. “I think that makes me pretty expert.”
Hermione laughed.
“You read High Sticking again, haven't you?” Hermione murmured, eyes lifting toward Viktor’s back as he walked beside Ginny, deep in Quidditch talk.
It was Scorpius who, much to Hermione's dread, made the first move.
“Uncle Viktor, why don't we invite Miss Ginny to dinner tonight?” Scorpius asked in a tone that tried to sound casual. “I saw a restaurant up the alley and I really want to try it. Plus, I was Miss Ginny to teach me more about Quidditch!”
Ginny looked at Hermione before she answered, a glance that asked permission without a trace of pity.
“I'd love to, Scorpius. And please, just call me Ginny.” she replied, her words warm with invitation.
Viktor lifted one brow.
“Is my Quidditch instruction not good enough?” he murmured. “I see I've been replaced.”
Ginny’s laughter filled the air. Scorpius grinned as he watched the two. He shot Hermione a knowing look and Hermione was taken aback by just how much he looked like Draco in that moment.
“Well, what are we waiting for? We can buy some new robes for the evening. My treat!” Ginny exclaimed, dragging Viktor by the elbow. "That includes you too. You can't wear...that to a dinner."
Hermione watched the two of them fall into an easy two step she had not expected to see again in her lifetime. Not a romance. Not even a chase. Only adults who carried their own weather finding shelter in conversation about something with rules and measurements and agreed objectives. Quidditch had always been a language that translated without delay. It could carry warmth across gulfs where other tongues dissolved.
On the walk to buy evening robes, Scorpius fell behind with Viktor to talk about their usual. Ginny matched Hermione’s pace with a quiet that felt companionable rather than heavy. She angled her head toward the boy and the man and lowered her voice.
“You know he is matchmaking,” she observed, a smile caught in the corner of her mouth.
“Yes, well. What can I say?” Hermione replied, her tone dry. “He thinks elbows at a small table are destiny.”
Ginny’s laugh softened into something fond.
“It's almost like he somehow inherited Theo's penchant for trouble.”
“Well, I mean he always did offer me a ride.” Hermione answered, laughing to herself at the easy memories that surfaced.
“Of course,” Ginny murmured, amusement deepening. “Though, I won't deny Krum is looking rather fit these days.”
Dinner continued on without a hitch. The conversation flowed, and the table of four were exceptionally dressed. The evening drew down without drama. Scorpius grinned and looked at his mother, mouthing the word elbows and Hermione couldn't help the genuine smile, love, and happiness that overcame her. Trouble would find them soon enough, she knew that. Plans would fracture and reform as they always had. Old names would ask and Hermione would have to answer. But for this night, Hermione let herself bask in her two closest people and a reunion that made her heart sing.