Blue Fur Coat
When Theo had suggested Hermione seek out an old friend, Hermione took the opportunity to leave the Manor quickly.
Hermione realized a moment too late as she stepped out of the Floo in the Leaky Cauldron that she had no idea where Ginny Weasley lived. Ginny Zabini, she supposed. Hermione’s mind went straight to the flat that was above Quality Quidditch Supplies that Ginny had kept when she played for the Harpies. When no one answered the door, Hermione returned to the Leaky. She supposed that Ginny must live at the Zabini Estate now, or some other fabulous place.
Hermione walked back into the Leaky, flashing a quick smile at Tom as she passed. She took a quick shot of fire whiskey and returned outside.
Diagon hadn’t changed as much as she had expected, though it looked like Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes had expanded to a second shop location.
Flourish and Blotts was empty, a for lease sign in the window. Gaberlunzie’s was replaced by Parkinson and Potter – Hermione could only assume that this was Pansy’s clothing boutique and design studio.
Despite all of the changes the war brought, Ollivander’s was still open. Hermione wasn’t sure who the new proprietor was – she wondered if Mr. Ollivander’s son had survived the war.
Hermione longed for the days of visits to Flourish and Blotts – the sight of the bright yellow sign in the window caught her eye again. She hesitated, writing down the number. Hermione always kept a pen and a notebook in her bag, despite the funny looks she would get from witches and wizards for her choice in writing utensils.
She turned, disillusioning herself, and walked by the joke shop once more. She hadn’t seen Ron since they broke up and she didn’t want to run into him unaware. Her heart hammered in her chest, sweat trickling down her back. Her nerves were fraying. She hadn’t seen Ginny since the breakup, either.
Hermione looked in the large front window of the joke shop. A large Yule display was taking up the majority of the floor space, making it difficult to see, but Hermione could make out a familiar figure.
Ginny stood at the back of the shop, talking to George. She wore tight Muggle jeans, a black blouse, and a fluffy fur coat that dusted around her calves. The coat was the color of an auguery – Hermione had always wanted to see the Irish Phoenix up close, though the greens and blues of its feathers were an omen. While she did not think of divination as a legitimate magical practice, she did know that to see an auguery in the wild meant death was near.
Her old friend looked expensive. The Ginny that Harry married and Hermione knew had been partial to Molly’s jumpers. She wondered if that Ginny still existed inside the big, blue fur coat.
Hermione watched for a few moments more before removing her disillusion charm. The bells chimed as the door opened, her fingers catching on the giant orange W as she let go of the handle.
“Afternoon!” George called. He was facing away from Hermione, demonstrating a new product to Ginny. “Let me know if I can be of any assistance.”
“-I’ll be off, then, Georgie,” Ginny replied, “Blaise will be expecting me back any minute–,”
“Hello,” Hermione interjected awkwardly. “George, Ginny.” After a beat, she said, “It’s nice to see you both.”
“I can’t believe my eyes,” Ginny said, removing the black sunglasses from her eyes. Hermione thought they almost looked like chic goggles. “Hermione!” Ginny threw her arms around Hermione’s neck, pulling her in for a crushing hug. “It is so nice to see you,” she exclaimed. “Do you want to go for a cuppa ‘round the corner?”
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” George said, pulling Hermione in for a hug. “How have you been? Chicago must be colder than here this time of year.”
Ginny cast a suspicious look at George, “Chicago? Is that where you have been?”
Hermione nodded, swallowing. “Why don’t we go for that cup of tea?”
Ginny took her arm tightly, “See you later, Georgie.” She called, practically dragging Hermione down the street. Ginny maneuvered them quickly into Abbott’s Tea House. Hannah Abbott, the proprietor, sat them in a quiet room in the back of house.
Abbott’s was different from the vibrant pinks and purples of Madam Puddifoot’s. Really, Hannah’s tea house was different from most wizarding establishments. The decor was neutral, in a way. The walls were a sandy beige, the scallop-edged chairs were a soft, cream color, and the accents were in pale blue gray.
The walls had a few mirrors and an abstract piece of art, but what struck Hermione was how similar this was to a tea shop she had been to in Wales when she and Theo had been on a work-related trip.
It reminded her of the sea, the plush rugs charmed to remain clean, the understated, pale blue teapots – all of it was very calming.
She found that she quite liked it.
“Afternoon tea service for you, ladies?” Hannah asked, popping around the corner unheard.
“Are you hungry?” Ginny asked.
“I could eat.” Hermione smiled at Hannah and then back at Ginny. “I’ll take a pot of earl grey.”
“I’ll have the butterfly wings brew.” Ginny said, turning back to Hermione. “Tell me everything.”
Hermione didn’t know where to begin. “Well, I’ve only been in town a few days, nearly a week, really. We came back for Theo’s mother – her health had been wavering the past few months.”
Ginny frowned, “I heard she had passed. It seems like the funeral arrangements are taking quite a bit of time. Are you and Nott Junior together, then? I heard from Harry that you left town shortly after he and I separated. I had owled you an invitation to our, well, rather, mine and Blaise’s, wedding, but I hadn’t heard back.”
“My daughter was too young for me to be comfortable leaving her, Ginny, I really am sorry to have missed it.”
“Your daughter?” Ginny said, eyebrows hiding in her hairline. “Blimey, how old is she?”
“Three now,” Hermione said.
“Is she Nott’s?”
“Not exactly.” Hermione winced. “Though Theo is like her father.”
For a moment, Ginny was silent, doing the mental math. “Blimey, Hermione, she’s not Ron’s, is she?”
Hermione barked out a laugh. A moment later, the tea spread appeared on the table. The empty pots that were sitting on the table were suddenly steaming. The cups and carafes were full of milk and sugar cubes. “No, no,” Hermione said, “Willa’s father was a man I had spent a night with, once, shortly after the breakup.”
Ginny nodded, “Does he know about her?”
“He does,” Hermione said. “We are working out a custody arrangement. Unfortunately, he has legal proof he is her father now. Not sure what I was thinking when I agreed to the paternity test.”
“Muggle father or…?”
“Wizard.” Hermione said, wishing her tea was something a little stronger. “You’ll find out soon enough, anyway. Draco Malfoy is her father.”
The expression on Ginny’s face was cool as she took in the news. Hermione wasn’t sure what to think – or what Ginny was thinking either.
“When did he find out?”
“The night I returned to England.”
Ginny nodded, slowly. “How did he take the news?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
“Well he must have said something.”
“Not really, he and Theo were battling for dominance the entire car ride back to Nott Manor.” Hermione recanted the tale to Ginny, explaining to her the confusion, Theo’s mother’s passing, and the magical paternity test. She told Ginny every detail she could remember about the patronus — the dragon swooping in to protect the duckling, the otter being playful — before she finally stopped talking, taking a breath and a bite of a cucumber sandwich.
Ginny smiled, lifting her cup to her mouth. The large emerald cut diamond on her finger was accented by two smaller emeralds. Her wedding band was a soft white gold. The jewelry didn’t look goblin-made, though, it also didn’t look like family jewelry.
“Where did Blaise get your wedding rings?”
“He and Malfoy designed them, actually. I quite think the ferret would make an excellent jewelry maker if he retires from his work at the Ministry.”
“It’s beautiful,” She said, “It looks like it could be older, but it looks Muggle-made.”
“Draco welded it himself for me with Zabini family diamonds.” She said, popping the rings off. “Try them on yourself.”
“I couldn’t possibly –,”
“But you must, I love being an expensive woman.” Ginny grinned, “I want for nothing. I don’t have to be anywhere or do anything, if I don’t want to. That was the problem with being married to Harry. I loved him dearly, but I was not ready for responsibility after the war. I didn’t want to sacrifice my life to raising a million children. I know what it was like for mum and dad, and while we were in a better financial situation, I still didn’t want to do it.”
Hermione nodded. She understood. There were moments where she was uncertain, during her pregnancy. She thought about potentially giving her child up. Many wizarding families struggled with fertility after the war – she was surprised that she was even able to conceive after the amount of dark magic her body had been exposed to.
“Would you like to meet her sometime?” Hermione asked, suddenly. “I could bring Willa by your manor –,”
“Blaise and I are staying at the Ned in London while I have the manor renovated. We are bringing it up to speed. His mother had…eccentric tastes. Why don’t you and Theo come by for dinner tomorrow night? Bring Willa.”
Hermione smiled. Maybe everything didn’t have to change.