Misplaced Stones and Gingerbread Scones

December 24, 2010

Fairy lights glimmered as Hermione stepped out of the floo and into the parlor of Longbottom Manor. Wrapped in velvet the color of Slytherin green, the curly-haired witch used her wand to siphon the soot from her recent travels. Chocolate brown waves cascaded down her back as she took the proffered arm from Sirius. Blood-red lips curled into a soft smile as they followed Teddy and Remus from the room. 

“Hermione!” Ginny squealed, rushing toward her, the glass of champagne in her hand never losing a drop. It was pure talent as far as the witch was concerned. Flaming red hair swirled in her periphery as freckled arms wrapped tightly around her. “Look at you! You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” the Gryffindor lioness laughed, rolling her eyes at Sirius, who released her arm with a wink. “I thought for a moment it might be too much, but…”

“Absolutely not!” Sirius stated, grabbing a glass of firewhiskey and a glass of red wine for her. “While I personally think red is a better color, that dress deserved to be worn. It can’t stay hidden at the back of the closet forever.”

“I’m sure Oliver will appreciate it,” Ginny chuckled, tucking a curl behind her ear. The golden dress she adorned glittered as they continued their way into the party. Hermione giggled as she spotted the children running around the elves, chasing charmed animals. “Where is he, by the way?”

“He will be here later,” the witch explained, taking a delicate sip of the sweet wine that Sirius had procured for her. Joy flooded through her as she took in the sight of all of her chosen family and friends, all together in one room, celebrating. There was a time when she would never have believed that any of this was possible, but here they all were, despite all the odds against them. It was why she couldn’t be angry with Oliver for being late. Hermione was too grateful for the moment right in front of her. “A private session ran late.”

“Ah,” Ginny stated, giving Sirius and Remus a knowing look. “His loss when some handsome wizard with no sense of decorum arrives to steal you away.”

“I’m sorry, red,” Sirius smirked, twirling Hermione into the crowd, bell-like laughter falling from her lips. “But I’m happily taken by a wizard with a furry little problem and raging jealousy issues.”

“I believe it’s you who has the raging jealousy issues,” the golden-eyed wizard chuckled, wrapping an arm around his waist. 

“Semantics,” he waved off before pointing above him. “Look, Mistletoe. Kiss me, Remus.”

“You planned this,” he laughed joyfully, guffawing as Sirius dipped him and planted a passionate kiss on him. 

Blushing, Hermione looked on fondly before allowing Ginny to tear her away. The witches made their way through the crowd, greeting and chatting with everyone. Luna was pregnant again with her and Ron’s fourth child, their younger three dancing around the room with James and Lily. Molly hugged her fiercely, commenting on how beautiful she looked and reminding her once again that Charlie was still unmarried, but from where she was standing, it looked as if Charlie was entangled with a witch, Daphne Greengrass, to be exact. 

Harry was the next to find her, scooping her into his arms and twirling her around dramatically. Her smile was radiant, talking animatedly with her best friend and his husband, sharing tales of their dull adult lives. It was simple, perfect as far as Hermione was concerned. When she finally made her way to the hosts, Astoria was glowing. Seven months into her pregnancy neither Pansy nor Neville could get enough of her. It was another coupling that the Wizarding World hadn’t seen coming. It made sense to Hermione, though. The three balanced each other out, peace in its most pure form. 

The night proceeded on and Hermione found herself telling stories to the children. They were gathered around the roaring fire, raptly listening to Hermione’s melodic reading voice, when Draco Malfoy approached, a quiet strawberry blonde attached to his arm. 

“Well, well, Granger,” Draco chuckled, watching with fondness as Scorpius looked up from his place next to Hermione to smile at his father. It was just like the witch to attract the innocent, pure children, bewitching them with her stories and lullabies. “I see you’ve once again found a way to slither your way out of adult conversation and end up with the children.”

“I prefer prance,” the curly-haired witch smiled. “I am a lion, after all, not a snake. But how charming of you to join us, Draco. Did the adults finally tire of your wit and charm?”

“Never,” the blonde wizard smirked.

“Hello, Hermione,” Emma spoke from her place next to Draco. “It’s Hermione, right? There are so many faces and names to remember, it gets a little jumbled sometimes.”

“It is,” she chuckled, her smile kind as she handed the book over to Teddy, standing to join the adults in their conversation. “Hello, Emma. Are you enjoying the party?”

“I am. It’s quite a bit different than I am used to, but Draco has been a gem explaining everything to me,” the girl admitted shyly. She was beautiful, Hermione had to admit. She was tall and thin, with pretty blue eyes and perfect teeth. Her strawberry hair was thick and full, framing her face perfectly. If it wasn’t widely known she was a muggle, she would have assumed she was a pureblood. She was a perfect match for Draco in almost every way.

“I was just telling her that she could always find you as long as she located the large nest of curls surrounded by little ones, your preferred company,”  Draco winked, taking a sip of his champagne as Hermione rolled her eyes. Long gone were the days when his taunts about her hair or looks bothered her. They had fought a war and come out on the other side alive. Whether they liked it or not, they were bound together, forged in fire. “Where is your lesser half, hmm?”

“Draco,” Emma admonished, her cheeks heating with embarrassment.

“Oliver,” Hermione stressed, her eyes narrowed. “Will be here any minute. He had a private practice season that ran late.”

“Of course,” he smirked. “How could I forget?”

“Sorry, I’m late,” Oliver spoke, rushing into the room and kissing the top of Hermione’s head. She could tell that he had just finished at the pitch, his hair still wet from the shower he had taken. “Johnson had a thousand questions and just couldn’t get the right speed around the corner. I keep telling him he has to lean into it. The wind is your friend, and if he would just-”

“Oliver,” Hermione spoke gently, smiling a little as he stopped talking and looked at her. Straightening his tie, the witch rested a hand on his chest. “Hello.”

“Hello, love,” he stated, turning to look at who she was speaking to. A slight frown appeared on his face when he noticed Draco standing there. “Ah. Malfoy.”

“Oliver, this is Emma,” smiling softly, Hermione turned to Emma. “This is Oliver, my boyfriend.”

“Oh, how lovely,” she beamed. “It’s so nice to meet you. Scorpius talks about Hermione all of the time. You have a keeper here.”

“That she is,” the Quidditch coach nodded, pulling Hermione closer to his side. “Remind me, Malfoy, you and Hermione used to hate each other, right? How is it that you became friends again?”

“Well…” Draco sneered, flashing back to the moment his relationship with Hermione Granger changed into something softer, more real.

Staggering into the shop, Draco took a deep breath, holding his crying son to his chest. He should have known that it was too soon. No one was ready to accept that he had changed. Trying to survive, that’s all he had been doing. He was just trying to survive, keep himself and his parents alive. The air around him was becoming thin, his chest tightening. The wailing sound of his son's cries was becoming fainter. He knew what was happening, and there was no way he could stop it. All he could do was hope the owner of the shop didn’t kick him out before he could pull himself together.

“Malfoy?” a voice called, a familiar voice that drew his attention away from the panic attack brewing within him.

“Granger,” Draco choked out as he turned to match the voice to the all too familiar encompassing chocolate curls that were a beacon of proof that it was indeed Hermione Granger calling his name.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Hermione gasped, stepping towards him with her arms outstretched. “May I?”

“What?” Draco wheezed, his grey eyes wide as the tightening in his chest came back with a vengeance. 

“The baby, Malfoy,” Hermione spoke gently, easing the sobbing baby into her arms without ever getting actual permission from the father. “There, there, little one. It’s alright, love. Sirius, can you get him some water?”

“I think he’s a bit too young for that, kitten,” another voice spoke, deeper than any of the normal voices that surrounded the Gryffindor bookworm. 

“For Malfoy,” the witch insisted before returning her attention to his son to coo at him. “I know, love, people can just be awful. You can stay here with us, where it’s warm and shiny. Do you want to see my favorite spot?”

Draco watched in fear as Granger took his son, walking into the depths of what looked to be a library. When a cool glass was placed into his hand, his grey eyes turned to stare into their almost mirror image. An older wizard stood before him, one that he had seen many times across the battlefield and blasted from the Black family tree. His face was hardened with lines, and his salt pepper curls fell to his shoulders, but there was a kindness in his eyes that Draco had never seen in any other Black family member except his mother. 

“Don’t worry about the kid,” Sirius Black stated. “She’s good with the little tykes.”

“Where am I?” Draco breathed, taking a shaky sip of water.

“Welcome to Enchanted Tomes,” the Lord Black smirked. “Hermione’s bookstore and bakery for all your reading needs.”

“Oh, that’s so kind,” Emma smiled, turning to look at the blonde wizard. “You’ve never told me that story before. It’s lovely.”

“It’s definitely different than the days of her tormenting and hexing in the hallways,” Oliver stated, an eyebrow raised as he looked back and forth between Draco and Hermione

“Hexing in the halls?” Emma asked, confusion clear across her face.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Hermione reassured her, elbowing Oliver in the process. “Malfoy and Scorpius have been by the shop every day since.”

“I noticed that the two of you call each other by your last names. Why is that?” 

“It’s habitual at this point,” Theo chuckled, walking up to the group with Harry at his side. “I think we would all die of shock if either of them called the other Hermione or Draco.”

“Oliver,” Harry chuckled, shaking the man's hand. The wizard had always been tall but now with his years of Auror training and experience, he towered over the man in height and stature. “Glad you could make it. Everything alright?”

“Everything is fine,” Hermione smiled, assuring her best friend that she was indeed alright. 

“Pansy sent us to gather everyone,” Theo stated, shamelessly pinching his husband's arse, causing Harry to yelp and glare at the man before nabbing his twins much to their dissatisfaction. “Dinner is ready and then presents.”

“Presents!” all of the children squealed, running for their parents. 

“Let’s go,” Oliver started to Hermione, placing his hand on the small of her back and leading her out of the room.

“I really don’t like him,” Harry grumbled, a child hanging off of each of his arms.  Kissing his cheek, Theo patted his shoulder, consoling him and agreeing at the same time.

“I thought he was nice,” Emma pointed out, looking at all of the men confused. “Isn’t that something you would want? Someone nice for Hermione.”

“He’s nice,” Theo shrugged. “But absent. Always absent. I’m honestly shocked he made it at all tonight.”

“Scorpius,” Draco stated, beckoning his son over. “Time for dinner.”

December 25, 2010

Christmas morning arrived with a fresh blanket of snow on the ground and excitement in the air. The kitchen in Grimmauld Place smelled of cinnamon and vanilla as the young witch baked up a storm, Teddy chatting excitedly to her from his seat at the kitchen table. Sirius had yet to wake and Harry, Teddy, and the twins hadn’t made their way over for the home yet. Oliver was still sleeping in the guest room and if the witch knew anything, he wouldn’t be up until the sounds of laughter and joy made their way up the stairs. He was only an early riser when it came to Quidditch. 

“Aunt Hermione, will you live with us forever?” Teddy asked, his feet swinging back and forth as he sat atop the stool closest to her. Taking a sip of his hot chocolate, the young boy's violet eyes stared at her innocently.

“I’m not sure,” Hermione chuckled, flipping the bacon as she listened to him. 

“I think you should,” he continued, his smile large as his hair turned from pink to turquoise to purple. “You should stay here forever, even when I’m at Hogwarts.”

“Maybe I will,” the witch winked, offering him a croissant as she continued plating all the ready food. Of course, she had thought about it from time to time; what it would be like to have a future with Oliver. Would they buy a flat together in Diagon Alley, or would he assume she would move to wherever his career as a Quidditch coach would take him? What about children or even her shop? Would he think she would just give it all up for him? There were so many aspects to think about that if she lingered on the thoughts too much, she felt overwhelmed and on the verge of panic. 

“It smells delicious in here,” Sirius declared, walking into the room with a sleepy smile on his face. His salt and pepper curls were pulled back away from his face, and his black silk dressing gown hung loosely over his white v-neck and grey sweatpants. “Cooking up a storm, I see.”

“Good morning, Hermione. Happy Christmas,” Remus chuckled, kissing her cheek before pouring a cup of coffee for Sirius and preparing himself a cup of tea.

“Dad! Aunt Hermione made me her special hot chocolate,” Teddy exclaimed, holding up his mug, the hint of a whipped cream mustache evident on his face. Sirius chuckled, ruffling his hair before summoning a napkin to clean it off. 

“You must be very special,” Sirius told him, looking over at Hermione and winking. “She’s selective about who she makes it for. She’s never even made it for me.”

“That is not true,” she laughed, filling the room with light and excitement. Pointing her spatula at him, she narrowed her eyes. “I’ve made it for you many times.”

“True, true,” Sirius chuckled, taking his cup of coffee from the cozy cardigan-wearing wolf he loved with every fiber of his being. Taking a seat after stealing a piece of bacon, the man went into great detail about the plans for the day. It wasn’t but a few minutes later that the floo was roaring to life, and Harry, with his typical messy bun and flannel pajamas, and Theo, wearing silk pajamas, stepped through with a giggling James and Lily. 

Breakfast proceeded in the dining room, laughter and playful arguments stirring Oliver from his sleep. When he finally joined them all, the twins and Teddy were bursting at the seams to go and open their presents. 

A few blocks away, in a tiny flat, Draco, Emma, and Scorpius sat around a Christmas tree that was not real, nor did it sparkle from fairy lights. Stringed lights of differing colors lit up the odd tree, and presents were piled underneath. Scorpius was excited about the books Emma had bought for him and was vibrating in his seat with every gift he was given to open. 

“Emma, why don’t you open a gift from Scorpius and me,” Draco smiled, grabbing the gift and handing it to her, taking a deep breath. He watched with rapt attention, Scorpius bouncing at his side, as she carefully unwrapped the gift, looking at the jewelry box with wide eyes.

“Draco…” Emma began, looking at him.

“Open it,” he encouraged, rubbing his hands on his pants nervously. He could do this. Scorpius would have a mother again, and Draco would have someone to spend his life with. With delicate fingers, she lifted the lid, releasing a breath before smiling at Scorpius and then Draco.

“They are beautiful,” she smiled.

“They?” Draco asked, an eyebrow raised.

 “Absolutely perfect. However, you'll have to explain to me what this shape is again. It’s from that game you play with your coworkers, yes? Quidditch, I think you called it?”

Draco’s eyes grew wide as Emma turned the box around, showing the pair of snitch-shaped earrings that were nestled inside. Where the hell was the engagement ring?

&&&

“Hermione,” Oliver spoke, clearing his throat as he stood, crossing the room to hand her the gift, hoping it would lessen her annoyance at him after the news he had announced at breakfast. It wasn’t a shock that the witch had been annoyed. He knew that the bookshop was important to her, but Remus was there to help run things. “This is for you.”

“I thought we said we weren’t getting each other gifts this year,” she spoke softly, eyes darting across the room nervously before settling back on Oliver.

“Indulge me,” he chuckled, waiting patiently as she began to open the hurried wrapping. Silence filled the room as Theo clutched onto Harry at the sight of the jewelry box in her hands. Harry was holding his breath, looking at Sirius in disbelief. There was no way he was doing this now. 

As Hermione opened the box, her breath caught in her throat. Heart pounding, shaking fingers closed the box before opening it again and letting out a pained laugh.

“Hermione?” Oliver asked, confused by her reaction to the gift in her hand. “Is everything alright?”

“I… I don't know what to say,” Hermione whispered, looking to Sirius and Harry for help before turning back to Oliver. “Are you sure?”

Curious, Oliver made his way over to her, sitting beside her and looking at the box to see why she would be so choked up over a pair of earrings. It wasn’t until he saw the ring nestled in the velvet that he choked on his next words. “I…”

“Oliver? Hermione?” Remus asked curiously.

“I… I’m sure,” Oliver stated after a few more moments. “Hermione… Will you marry me?”

“Holy Shit…” Theo squeaked.