RP: Dinner at Hermione and Ron's Who: Hermione, Ron, Draco, Harry When: 24th January Where: Hermione and Ron's What: They have dinner
Things tended to get away from Hermione. Not work things. She was always on top of those, but family affairs. Having Harry over wasn't a family affair, not if he just showed up for dinner, which used to happen a lot more often when they were young, but dinner with Harry and Malfoy was certainly a family affair.
She finally decided that planning wasn't working out obviously since they kept talking about having dinner together and never did it. Instead that afternoon, she sent an office memo to Harry telling her that he was expected at the house with Draco that night. Yes, it was short notice. No, they didn't need to bring anything. Yes, Ron would cook. No, she was not helping in anyway. She felt that it conveyed all that needed to be said.
With that settled, she made a point to go home before nine. Hermione never left at five or even at seven. There was always something else with a different time zone that required to be done and now with this new treaty, coming home at nine was becoming the new norm.
Once she got home, she quickly changed and went to the kitchen. "Hello, everything smells delicious. I don't even want to know what you're making. You can surprise me. "She poured two glasses of wine and handed Ron one. "I promised Harry that I wouldn't help. I'll just sit here and look at your nice arse until you're done or when they arrive, whatever comes sooner."
***
Ron had gotten home at his normal time, but he wasn’t surprised that Hermione hadn’t arrived by the time he was almost done with dinner. Her hours were anything but normal, but it was something he was used to and didn’t mind. The new treaty was keeping things at the Ministry interesting, and that had been before Lisa’s little message on the journal. He could only imagine that Hermione was needed to put out some fires in the Wizengamot, though it amused him to think of some of those old bastards losing their shit over that post. Ron had gotten better at politics, out of necessity, but that didn’t mean he didn’t find his amusement where he could. He was just better at keeping it to himself these days.
“I’ll let it be a surprise then,” Ron said, turning to grin at his wife as she came into the kitchen. He finished what he was doing as she poured the wine, then moved to meet her halfway. He stooped to kiss her before accepting the glass, then moved back to the counter to finish chopping carrots. “Since I work hard to keep my arse nice, I don’t mind if you just sit there and appreciate it.” Ron ate a lot, but he worked just as hard to keep in shape though he’d admit he was less muscular than he had been at twenty-five. Since he was approaching his fifty-first birthday, he was okay with that. “I’d say we had time for more practical appreciation, but I’m betting on Harry being on time for once, if only because Malfoy would find it rude to be late. There’s some benefit to Harry dating the posh bastard.”
***
"Why doesn't Rita ever write the real sleazy information? Like I only married you for your arse. Now there's something that could be printed without anyone complaining," she said, keeping a straight face. She stretched her ankles, rotating back and forth. "I'm getting too old for heels. I might have to go lower, stop at five inches instead of six, except I love to see men's faces when they see how fast I can move on those." She made a point to walk barefoot at home, because she knew that staying on heels all day shortened her tendons making the first stops in the morning really painful.
She got up from the chair again, because no matter what she said she couldn't stay still. It was too early for her to switch into rest mode. Instead she went to the freezer. "Oh good, the kids didn't eat all the ice cream, we can splurge later."
She closed the door and looked at Ron. "And you might not want to call him a posh bastard. I mean we do know his parents were married. How about posh prick?" she said, smiling. "But only when Harry isn't around."
***
"Because she finds your affair with your twenty-five year old Hit Wizard detail far more interesting," Ron said, with an easy grin. "Hermione, love of my life, I'll let you in on a secret: you'd manage to be just as terrifying in five-inch heels as you are in six-inch heels." It was one of his favorite things, to watch people cower in fear of his wife. He was pretty sure that said some interesting things about him, but he didn't care. "You could terrify them in bare feet, but I'd rather you didn't."
He put the carrots in to steam, and frowned a little when she mentioned the ice cream. "That's because the kids haven't been home in a while," he said, still not completely at ease with the idea of Hugo moving out with friends. Wasn't it just yesterday that Hugo was eight and begging Ron to go flying with him? He was pretty sure it was just yesterday.
"Posh prick sounds better anyway. It's got that alliterative thing going for it," he said, moving to kiss her again. The food could manage itself for a bit while he made out with his wife. "It's weird how this isn't weird, isn't it? The whole Harry-and-Malfoy thing, I mean."
***
"Oh Ron, seriously! It's my twenty-five year old secretary. The Hit Wizards are too old now, they might have reached thirty already. I couldn't possibly be interested in them." She grinned back at him. "Well, if you're sure, but that means I have to buy for all new shoes. I don't know when I'll have the time, although it would be fun." She made a face. "At the Ministry? That's just horrible and dirty. Probably more dangerous than anything we might have done at Hogwarts. I think I'll keep shoes for work."
Hermione snorted. "You just don't like it when they aren't underfoot, but I can assure you that they are always here when there's ice cream. It's some sort of mysterious radar they have." She rested against the counter. "How are you dealing with Hugo's moving out? I was thinking that maybe we should tell him that we'll help out with a downpayment and then he can pay the mortgage with the rent he gets from his friends. We can do the same with Rose if she decides to follow him and then we'll just have to have a wild life and invite out details to eat our ice cream."
She laughed. "Sure, let's go with that one, then. It can be our secret nickname for him now, and I guess it's not weird because we've known since school that Harry was obsessed with the posh git. See how many names? And I think they have arrived," she said when she heard the door. "Mark probably let them being, seeing that Harry is his boss and I told him that it was okay. Harry, in the kitchen," she yelled out. "And you, be nice to the posh prick."
***
“Oh, the secretary! I can’t believe I don’t even know who you’re having an affair with,” Ron said, laughing and kissing her again. No matter how long they’d been married, he’d never get tired of kissing his wife. "Oh, the horror of buying new shoes. Couldn't you just, I don't know, charm the shoes you have to be an inch shorter? Then you wouldn't have to go shopping." Ron would do almost anything to avoid shopping. "Oh yes, bare feet is far more dangerous than fiend fyre, just as an example."
He laughed at her comment, knowing it was true. "Well, I put that ice cream in there yesterday. If it hasn't attracted them yet, I think the radar is faulty. I suppose it's more for us though." He sighed, moving back to the meal preparation. "I'm wondering when he grew up, and I'm torn between being proud that he wants to be independent and worrying how he's going to feed himself." As if he hadn't made sure that the kids were proficient in the kitchen while Hermione had made sure they were self-sufficient in every other area, but still. A father worried. "I think that's a good idea, actually, and if Rosie wants to do the same then we can support her too." He grinned at the idea. "Somehow, I think if Rita got hold of that idea, it'd turn into some sort of orgy." Really, that column was just too ridiculous.
"Remember the obsessive tracking he did in sixth year? I'm pretty sure he took more notes on Malfoy than he ever did in class," he said, shaking his head. "We really should have known then." He heard the door as well, and rolled his eyes at Hermione's admonition to be nice. "I'm always nice."
He turned towards the entry as Harry came in, followed by Malfoy. "Hey Harry," he said, grinning at his friend. "Malfoy." He nodded at the other man. "Dinner will be ready in just a few. Do you two want wine? Hermione and I already got started on that."
***
Harry was oddly nervous about this dinner even though he knew he didn’t need to be. He’d been going for dinner with Hermione and Ron forever. Just because Malfoy was with him was not a reason for it to turn weird. But it was different to usual and he found himself changing three times before he felt comfortable in a jumper and trousers.
He’d also started having nightmares. That was something he didn’t really want to share with his friends, not when he didn’t know how to stop them. They’d started with regularity since Lily had come back and he knew it was because he was talking about past events, things he’d buried for so long. He’d taken to charming the purple smudges under his eyes although he was pretty sure Malfoy at least knew.
“Hermione promised she didn’t cook,” he said, taking the opportunity to kiss the blond before they walked into the kitchen. “Ron’s pretty good actually. Sometimes adds weird flavour combinations and he portions out food like Molly but I think he’ll stick to a tried and tested recipes tonight.”
They walked into the brightly lit kitchen and he smiled at his friends. “Hello both of you. Something smells good,” he said cheerfully, taking his cloak off. “Wine sounds good. We brought a bottle too.”
***
Draco had known this was coming, and had of course been very polite about the idea, but there was something about the idea of dinner with the three of them all together with nobody else that made him feel a little apprehensive, and it wasn’t helped by Potter’s obvious nervousness. The man was a fidget at the best of times, but there was something else about this, and it didn’t exactly help to put Draco at ease.
He’d tried to appease his own concerns with the fact that Potter wasn’t exactly sleeping soundly these days. Of course Draco had noticed the nightmares - you didn’t spend so much time around someone and not, especially when you stayed with them with some regularity. Besides that he was starting to look tired. Draco hadn’t discussed it with him yet, but they were slowly getting to the point where it might have to be brought up. He already knew well that Potter liked to hide things or bottle them up, and it rather looked like that was happening here. Still, that wasn’t the issue at hand.
He gently kissed Potter, feeling a little self conscious because in his circles you wouldn’t even have done that. “I see. From what you’ve said that’s probably best, though I’ve no experience.” He replied, though he assumed it was right given the frequency with which he’d heard that. “Either way, it’s very kind of them to have us both.” He said, and that was true.
“Good evening.” He said with a smile, putting any nerves aside. “Thank you both for the invite. And a wine would be lovely, thanks.” He replied.
***
"Good call, Harry. Wine is never turned down in this house." She took out another two glasses. They were the long tall ones that she and Ron were using. She poured the rest of the bottle in the two glasses. If they were doing this, they might as well enjoy it.
She handed both the glasses. "And nonsense, Malfoy. Any ... friend of Harry is a friend of ours. I do hope that you can drink. We like our wine in this house." She couldn't drink like a Weasley and certainly not the firewhiskey they favoured, but she had learned to hold her own. She picked up her glass and took another sip. "I need you to settle a very important question. Is walking barefoot at the Ministry more dangerous than our school years? Apparently my husband doesn't understand how dirty that floor is."
She went back near Ron, resting her hip against the counter. "You look tired," she said without any preamble. "Ron and I were just talking about our kids will soon abandon us. Maybe you should move in with us. If anyone can take care of you, it's us. Ron, tell him that he should move in with us. The press doesn't even keep reporters out there. We're too boring for pictures."
***
"We thought about putting in a wine cellar, but to be honest the wine doesn't last long enough for one to be necessary," he said, grinning as Hermione poured and handed over the wine. "Well, if you can't Malfoy don't worry about it. Hermione and I can drink enough for you." He winked at his wife, then went back to the stove to finish up a few things. “And all I was saying is that fiend fyre, dictators, Voldemort and three-headed dogs were all slightly more dangerous than walking barefoot at the Ministry.”
When Hermione mentioned that Harry looked tired, Ron looked over to do his own assessment. "Hermione's right, mate. You know there’s always a room here for you,” he said, not caring what Malfoy would think of that. “Hugo’s on his way out, and I doubt Rose isn’t going to follow him sooner than later.” He frowned a little, still not sure he liked the idea of his kids moving out but he knew it was inevitable. “I don’t know if we’re boring! You’re having an affair with your secretary after all. That’s not boring.” He gave Hermione a casual kiss to the cheek before moving to the oven to take out the roast. “This needs to set, but nothing in here needs my attention for the next few minutes if we want to sit and enjoy our wine.”
***
Harry took the glass of wine from Hermione with a murmured ‘thanks’ before chuckling at the question. “Sorry Hermione, I’m with Ron. The floor at the Ministry hasn’t yet tried to actively kill me. However, the more important question I have is why are you walking around barefoot? If your feet hurt, can’t you just wear flat shoes?” he asked, a little confused.
When they both noticed he was tired, he shot them a slightly annoyed look. The last thing he wanted was to discuss this right now. He’d had enough of discussing the past and he wanted this to be a positive experience so that Malfoy didn’t run screaming, he cared about it being nice for him and that meant them not talking about Harry. He sat down at the table instead and pointedly ignored it.
“If I lived here, you’d have reporters back around you. Plus Rita would definitely think there was an orgy going on,” he pointed out with a grin. “I’d rather not bomb your popularity polls, ‘Mione. Besides, in case you hadn’t noticed I have my mum currently living with me. The one she thinks is an underage prostitute.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “They think you’re shagging your secretary again? Really, they need to get more inventive. I remember when you were both apparently having threesomes weekly. You’ve gotten boring in your old age, guys.”
***
Draco actually gave Potter a look at that one. “Flat shoes? Potter, I know you’re some sort of philistine when it comes to clothing choices, however, if I’m understanding correctly, a good pair of high heeled shoes is a status symbol. Flat shoes… well. They have the opposite effect.” he replied, remembering that Astoria had once hexed him for suggesting such a thing even when her health was in decline. Even then, she’d still loved to dance, and Draco had loved to indulge her. “I suppose at least having bare feet would suggest that you’ve simply removed the heels for some practical reasons, but for the record, I’d not want to do that on the Ministry’s floors either.” he said.
“And I do enjoy a drink, thank you, but I don’t remember when last I drank to excess.” he admitted, though looking at those measures he’d have to remind himself to be careful here, tonight. The glasses alone were far bigger than he was used to at the Manor. “You may well have to help out.” he said with a chuckle, deciding not to make any qualms about it.
He was a little surprised at the offer to have Potter live here with them, but he supposed he shouldn’t be. He knew exactly how close the three of them were, and he supposed it wouldn’t be weird. Though, he could admit that it would almost certainly make overnight visits a little strange if that was still happening. Still, he didn’t comment on the nightmares he was fairly sure Potter was having, instead taking the offered glass of wine and sipping it. He did, however, catch the look on Potter’s face. Yes, they’d certainly be talking about it at some other stage if these two didn’t get it out of him first.
“Honestly, the woman is a law unto herself. I suppose it is impressive how much she implies rather than states as fact to keep herself out of trouble, but still.” he said, shaking his head.
****
"At least Malfoy understands as does Ron. Harry, you're hopeless when it comes to shoes." She did smiled at her husband. "A wine cellar is really unnecessary isn't it, although you can drink more than me. That's unfair." She wiggled her toes, still covered by her pantyhose. "And I always walk barefoot at home. It's not like anyone here is impressed by my shoes. Ask my kids, if you don't believe me. We were just considering what would happen if I did it at work. I think we can all agree that work at the ministry is more dangerous. If this treaty passes, I feel half the population will try to murder me." Even though she opposed it and would vote against if they would have to ratify it.
Hermione shook her head. "Ron, love, you have to accept that they are growing up." She took Ron's hand. "Come on, let's go sit down in the living room. "And for your information, Harry, I was shagging my junior aide before. Now that I have a new male secretary, it's the secretary. Do keep up with my affairs. Someone has to and it's not me."
When they got there, she sat down next to Ron, one leg bent under her. "Ron, tell him that if he lived here, a) we have a security detail keeping people away and b) we all know that Rita would only say what I let her say. She's more afraid of me than either one of you." And Hermione had never betrayed her secret, but if she talked, Rita would be jailed for not registering for at the very least thirty years. She'd be in Azkaban for a longtime. "She's lucky I believe in freedom of the press," Hermione said to Draco.
"And how is your mother? Besides able to find clients already," she said, rolling her eyes. "Is she doing anything? It'd be bad if she stayed home, no matter how tempting it might be under the circumstances."
***
"Don't worry, I only understand because she's explained it to me for so many years. Even I have to retain the information at some point," Ron said, in a stage whisper to Harry. "It's not unfair, it's just Weasley and Prewett genes mixed together to create unholy alcohol tolerance. I can't help that anymore than you can help being so brilliant." He grinned at her comment about the kids, but didn't comment on it. "Well, it's been awhile since half the population tried to murder you. It'll be almost like old times."
He sighed, but squeezed Hermione's hand. "I swear they were eight years old yesterday, and still looked at me as if I hung the moon, rather than the 'Oh dad' looks I get these days," he said, shaking his head. "And here I thought it was the new hit wizard on our detail, but apparently he's too old at the ripe old age of thirty. I think the real issue is you just have too many affairs." Twenty-five years ago those rumors might have upset him; now they were just to be laughed at.
"Harry, a) we have security detail to keep people away, and b) Rita is terrified of Hermione and wouldn't do anything to really upset her," Ron said, obediently repeating Hermione's words. He knew Harry was skirting the issue of his exhaustion, and all the issues that went with it, but was willing to let it go for now.
Ron had seen the articles about Harry's mum, and knew they had to be weighing heavily on him. "You and she are always welcome here, if she's up to meeting people," he said, thinking that Hermione had a point about her staying at Harry's and not venturing out at al
***
Harry got up to follow his friends into the sitting room, running his thumb over the backs of Malfoy’s knuckles and giving him a smile. “You’re such a suck-up. How am I supposed to know about shoes?” he murmured quietly into his ear before they followed the other pair inside.
He wasn’t really sure how to sit. At home he wouldn’t hesitate to lean against Malfoy or have them touch in some way but he knew that the blond didn’t generally show that much affection in front of others. He didn’t mind, not when they both had images and jobs to maintain, but Harry wasn’t sure where this sat on Malfoy’s scale of appropriate behaviour. He decided to leave it up to him and sat down, hoping that he wouldn’t at least sit towards the other end of the sofa.
“I’d rather not be murdered if it’s all the same, Ron,” he said, taking a sip of his wine. “Hermione can take that mantle for a bit. I don’t know about people but I can’t imagine my kids are going to be happy. They’ve never talked about having children and I assumed it was off the table for all of them.”
“Right, of course. Just send me a memo with who you’re shagging and that will make it easier. Glenda can tell me,” he teased. “And I’m not moving in, I like my house. I also really, really don’t want any security in my life.”
He sighed at the question, not sure how to answer it. “She’s lovely but she’s a heartbroken young woman who has lost her husband and her baby in one go. You should hear her talk, they were so in love,” he said, smiling a little. “She’s been visiting with Snape, actually. After he accused me of lying about her being back - not that I’ll expect an apology for that any time soon - it seems they’ve rekindled their friendship. Plus we went shopping and got her a wand, clothes, a journal. I need to sort out up a vault too and of course, Remus and Sirius know she’s here although I don’t know how much she’s seen them,” He paused. “It’s hard telling her some of the stuff that happened. She’s pointed out that my life doesn’t sound particularly happy which is depressing,” he added with a brief huff of laughter.
***
Draco gave Potter a vaguely scandalised look. “Suck up, indeed. I’m simply explaining what I’ve come to understand about women’s footwear. And I know. I’ve seen you in a robe fitting now and am slowly coming to accept that fashion is entirely lost on you. With how awkwardly you stand even Everett will struggle to get the fit right.” He teased, giving the other man’s hand an affectionate squeeze as they walked into the living room.
He noted Potter dithering before sitting down, wondering what exactly he was thinking before sitting down next to him, just close enough to touch without being indecent around company. This seemed like a fairly relaxed occasion, after all, hardly like the formal dinners he was used to.
“I have to agree that it doesn’t seem the most prudent idea. As you’ve said, there are those who won’t want children, and a myriad of other problems besides. And I know that we had Scorpius by that age, but even taking marriages out of it, thirty is relatively young.” He pointed out, and it was especially given the wizarding age span. “As for Scorpius, he’s always said he wants children of his own, but this still feels like it’s forcing his hand.” He admitted. “This will almost certainly cause more problems than it will solve, and by the time that’s evident it will be too late.” He said, sipping at his wine again. Of course he had also had the thought that had they not done things Astoria’s way, he’d have a different set of issues now, and would be really want to be dealing with babies in his fifties? Probably not, in all honesty.
“I suppose it’s a sort of mourning for the life you had and the one you should have, and she’s probably feeling some guilt for what ended up happening to you, Potter. And before you say anything that couldn’t be helped and you can’t go around harbouring guilt for that either.” He added, knowing exactly where he would go with it. He was, however, glad that Potter had this chance regardless.
***
"I've explained a great many things to both of you. You just refuse to listen and I have to keep repeating it." She grinned. "I'm just good, since I got none of those genes and I'm working my way up there." She leaned in and kissed him. "And that's for knowing what genes are." She looked at Harry. "You know, love, I get that you're feeling out of sorts, but you weren't the only one they wanted to kill and Ron was talking about me being a Muggleborn." Really if Harry went back to that mentality that it was him against the world, this would be the biggest clusterfuck possible, because he wasn't a teenager anymore, but the Head of the DMLE.
Hermione grinned. "They always said 'Oh, Dad', but the sentiment went from awe to disbelief." She sighed. "It's more about kids. Kids will adapt, they always do, but this law reaches anyone up to seventy. Think about people like Lisa. She's our age, despises children and if she reached fifty-one without a child, it's not for lack of money, stability or means. She's already talking about handing children over to the Ministry to put up for adoption and she would do it too, and if she starts, how many will follow her lead? I don't mind the mutually beneficial exchange of sperms and eggs between adults."
She snorted. "If you were here, I wouldn't have to give you a list that you won't read and you will ignore Glenda when she reads it to you." Getting Harry to read was still a tragedy and harder than to face Dark Wizards. "How can you like your house? You've never liked your house before, because you've barely been there, and Ron is right, your mother can come here too. Maybe being around Rose, for however long she's here, might help. Unless it's about Malfoy, and you can have sleepovers, isn't it true darling? You won't hex him and claim that it was an intruder."
She took a sip of wine to stop the laughter babbling inside her. "So your mother and Snape are besties again. That's... something." She remembered vividly how certain Harry was that Snape was trying to kill him. Despite the turnaround, it was still strange. "But Malfoy is right. This isn't your doing and there is nothing you can do. She needs to come to terms with what happened. Then again, it's true for every single one of them. All of them have lost their loved ones, family and lovers. Whether they died right before they came here or after years, it doesn't make a difference to them, because for them, their families died the moment they arrived here, they all have to learn to adjust to today, and they all have to see the loved ones who survived being old people. So really she's just like everyone else, and if you think of it that way, it might be easier to understand her and the rest."
****
"Hermione my love, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself if we listened after the first time," Ron pointed out, grinning as she kissed him. She had a habit of doing that whenever he showed he understood some Muggle concept or another; it had gotten to the point when they'd been younger that he'd gotten an erection every time she mentioned 'driving'. "Have more wine, Harry. It really does a great job of fixing the out of sorts feeling."
He laughed at her comment. "Well, I don't think it's so odd to miss the awe when my children are abandoning me!" He grew serious as the conversation turned to the new law. "It's fucking bullshit. The law, I mean. The idea of people being forced into having kids they don't want is horrific. The idea of creating orphanages for those unwanted children is barbaric. If it passes, Lisa's idea might be a way to at least mitigate the fallout a little." He didn't think it would solve the problem, but it might at least minimize it.
"Really, you'd be making Hermione's life much simpler if you moved in. It's a win-win solution all around," he said, not mentioning how he sometimes worried about Harry all alone in that big house he had. "And we have plenty of room for your mother too, and Harry I'll let you in on a secret: there's such a thing as privacy charms to make sure no one hears when you're shagging. They really come in handy for sleepovers."
Ron made a face when Snape's name came up. He was physically incapable of not acting like he was still eleven when the man was mentioned, though he did better at the Ministry. He had to set a good example for his trainees as they got the shit kicked out of them during Snape's lessons. Still, it was probably good that Snape and Lily were getting along. Maybe it would help Snape chill out if he had a friend.
***
“I know, it’s just been a weird few weeks,” he said with a small smile, not wanting Hermione to dig into the fact that he wasn’t feeling quite himself. Harry knew that if past behaviour was anything to go by, he’d share as little as possible until forced. He took a long sip of wine instead. “If the Ministry floor attacks you though, do let me know.”
“Who on the Wizengamot is pushing this?” he asked. “I can understand why Lisa is pissed. She made a choice not to have children and that shouldn’t be undermined. It should be a choice,” He thought of Jamie, Al and Lily and felt himself getting slightly angry at the thought that they’d be forced to do something. Could he do anything? He hated being the Saviour but it did give him privilege. “I’m going to guess that a freely-given interview on personal choice and how we’re not to be ruled by the IWC in the Prophet won’t help you, will it?”
He shook his head. “I’m not becoming your pet project because the kids are moving out. Get a Kneazle,” he said, grinning at Ron who had never liked Crookshanks much. “My sleepovers are my own business,” he said, giving Malfoy an amused look because this wasn’t unusual behaviour for Hermione or Ron. “I draw the line at my best friends knowing the frequency of my sex life.”
“It’s something,” he agreed, not sure how he felt about seeing his mum and Snape acting friendly. It was one thing to know it, another to see them act on it. “I’m trying but she is- Was- My mum. I can’t just say nothing about what happened to the people she cared about and just let her find out in a book. That’s not fair on her. It’s just hard to relive it is all. You two know I don’t like to talk about it, never have.” And that was one of the reasons why he had hated the press so much. They only wanted to focus on those times and link everything back to him being a teenage hero, as if he’d had a bloody choice in the matter. He knew he’d been used, knew his mindset was such that he’d never have done anything differently, but it still rankled.
***
“You know, Potter needing things explained multiple times and repeated is clearly a theme, I shan’t take any of it personally, then.” Draco replied, taking Potter’s hand all the same and giving it a small squeeze, almost surprising himself with how easy and comfortable it was to do that even with company. He gently squeezed again when he mentioned what a strange few weeks it had been, leaving their hands together instead of pulling back.
“It really probably won’t do very much at all, Potter, more's the pity. They’ll have the international pressure on them, and any resistance from us would likely put us at a significant political disadvantage.” He said with a sigh, sipping his wine. “And even for those who do want children, it’s a matter of the timescale.” he said, wondering how it would be if Scorpius ended up waiting too long and got forced together with someone just to have a kid - though Turpin’s idea did help with that somewhat he supposed. “It’s just wrong all over no matter which way you twist it. And unfortunately those on the wizengamot are generally so old that they wouldn’t be affected, so they obviously don’t care and-or think it’s a fabulous idea.” he said, rolling his eyes.
Draco caught the look, but didn’t say a word, quietly clearing his throat instead and saying nothing. That said, he would also prefer that the details and frequency of his sex life weren’t know by anyone but those actively involved, thank you very much, which left just him and Potter.
“Yes, but you still have to remember to look after yourself in all of it. It’s not just for her to know, it’s your past. I think anybody who knows anything about you would know that talking about it isn’t likely to be a comfortable experience for you.” he replied, knowing before now that this was causing the current sleep disturbance but really not knowing what to do about it aside be there when Potter allowed him to do so. “You do have a right to do this gradually and look after yourself, you know.” He added, wondering if the other two would put together what was going on here, and betting that the first choice to do so would be Hermione.
***
"Maybe, but mostly I might just have a heart attack," she said, grinning. "After all this time, if you two listened on the first go, it would seriously affect my health, after I check that you haven't been hexed, of course." She took another sip of her wine and at the rate they were going, they'd have to open another bottle. "And yes, have more wine, don't make us look bad when we open a new bottle by ourselves."
Hermione laughed. "They aren't abandoning you, they are moving away." She tried not to say too much, considering that Harry's kids hadn't waited to move out the moment they had finished Hogwarts. "We've had them at home long enough. Is Scorpius planning on moving out?" she asked, making a point to include Malfoy since they were known to exclude people without meaning to. They even did it at the Burrow.
"What's the alternative to an orphanage?" Hermione asked. "Leave them in a Muggle orphanage until Hogwarts? Letting them grow up in the streets alone. We need to do something, and she's right. No one is thinking about an orphanage, but it will happen, so what is the solution? I don't know how much Lisa's plan will work, only because we'll have more people forced to have a child than people who want them and can't have them." Hermione looked at Harry. "Who isn't pushing this? It comes with money. The more kids, the more money from the IWC funds to assist both the country and the people. I mean you could speak up and see if there's enough public opinion to threaten their seats, but let's face it, the people who would agree with you are the younger people who don't have kids, but also don't have any political clout to scare them."
She grinned. "He would, then I don't have to clear my schedule at work to see him to make sure he's all right. Now I even have to call him to let him know that the floors are attacking me." She rolled her eyes. "Harry, you'd have a room. It's not like we're checking what you do in said room. Also you don't get to give me an attitude, considering you knew every time we had sex from the start. This idiot... I mean my lovely husband even told you when we conceived our children."
Sighing, she tried to put this in a way that Harry could accept. "I understand that she's special to you, but turning her experience into something unique does her and everyone else a disservice. She doesn't need to be singled out and the others don't need their experiences to be dismissed. Having said that, you have a way of giving fact that - well - it sucks. Pretend that you're giving a report to a victim's family and keep it simple and impersonal so you don't have to say anything you don't want, although I disagree with Malfoy. You should talk. You should talk to her, to us, to him, to a bloody psychiatrist. You most certainly need to talk about it and I've been telling you for decades. Keeping everything in won't help you and you'll suffer from PTSD forever."
***
Ron was amused at the way Harry tried to evade Hermione's knowing gaze; you'd have thought after forty-years of friendship, he would have known better. Still, it was interesting to see the interplay between Harry and Malfoy, the little glances and touches, the teasing. It was nice, even if it was Malfoy.
"Please don't give my wife a heart attack," Ron said, looking specifically at Harry despite the fact that Hermione had addressed the comment to both of them. "I do love that your first instinct would be to make sure we haven't been hexed, though." He got up quickly, and returned with a second bottle of wine; he knew from experience that summoning wine didn’t always end well. He refilled Hermione’s glass, then his own, then both Harry and Malfoy’s. “And we’ve got more, should we need it. It might be a three bottle dinner.”
While he knew Hermione was right, it didn't make it any easier. "Well, regardless of whether I feel abandoned or not, I'll support whatever they decide," Ron said, because when it came right down to it, he just wanted his children healthy and happy, and he wasn't going to try and guilt them to stay the way his own mother had done.
"Between politics as usual and the financial incentives to pass this law, I think the easier answer is 'who on the Wizengamot isn't supporting the law'," Ron said, then frowned at the alternatives Hermione brought up. "Put that way, better an orphanage than nothing at all. At least with an orphanage, there'd be a board of directors with the kids' best interests at heart." It depressed him to think about all those hypothetical lonely children, but it depressed him just as much to think about them growing up alone and possibly abused with people who never wanted children to begin with. "Fucking politics. And I say that as the husband to the most beautiful Minister in history."
Ron couldn't help but laugh at the comment about getting a cat. "Now that's an idea. A cat who actually likes me," Ron said, though in his later years Crookshanks had come around to at least tolerating him. "But, Harry, a Kneazle is no replacement for you, and of course you'd have a room." Ron laughed again at the comment about conceiving their children. "I probably told Harry more than he wanted to know about all of that. Sorry mate." His tone of voice made it clear that he was nothing of the sort.
"There's never going to be any easy way to go through everything that happened. I think the best you can do is approach it as Hermione suggested: Stick to the facts and be as impersonal as possible. At least until the information has been processed, at which point talking more about it would probably be a good thing, for all you're about as good as I am with emotions," Ron said, trying to lighten the atmosphere a little.
***
“Fine but you know I can’t hold my booze either,” he said, glad that Malfoy felt comfortable enough to hold his hand around his friends. He touched his knee to his and didn’t move his leg away.. “Much to Ginny’s despair. Can you remember when she used to have to get me home after any major party at the Burrow? I still don’t really have the clearest memories of those nights although I remember the hangovers the next day though, especially when she hid the Hangover Potions and made me take Jamie out on his toy broom first.”
He smiled because of course Ron took it personally that his children wanted to move out. He, much like Molly, liked to have his family around him whether he realised it or not. “I’m sure that they will pop by all the time to come and see you. After all, your fridge is always stocked with food,” he teased. “I’d moved out of the house before all the children finished Hogwarts and they never saw my house now as home. Jamie decided he was getting a house straight off the bat with his Quidditch salary, Al won’t take any money for a bigger place and well, you know I bought Lily’s. If they didn’t want to live with their mother or me then I wasn’t going to change their mind - they’ve got both Potter and Weasley stubbornness.”
“An orphanage,” Harry repeated. It sounded desperately sad and he couldn’t understand how they were passing a law that was going to end up with so many children with parents who didn’t want them. Something ugly and angry twisted and burned hot inside him and he tamped it down, knowing Hermione and Ron wouldn’t appreciate any accidental magic. They’d only see it as a sign he was very much not okay. “Well, if this absolute shitshow is going to happen then I’ll donate money to it being built and we’ll make it into something happy and not eternally depressing. I… I wasn’t the best dad, I know that, but we can’t just have children brought up into the world that could end up with somebody like Petunia and Vernon. Not when they didn’t ask to be born. God, we’re fucking things up for generations.”
He didn’t feel much like joking but he smiled anyway. “I wanted to know nothing about your sex life. Absolutely nothing. You were the one that kept coming in and telling me- Things. I was incredibly kind in not telling you about my sex life seeing as it involved your sister,” he pointed out before turning to Malfoy. “Sorry, you must think we’re insane.”
“I don’t need to talk to anybody,” he said stubbornly, his jaw clenching a little because he wasn’t going to talk about this and definitely not with Malfoy sat next to him. He decided a change of subject was needed. “Are either of you two going to the National game? I’m assuming Jamie will be staying there and going to Bulgaria for Gin’s wedding but I don’t know if Al’s going too. We’re running an undercover op at the resort and Wonderland as the murderer has been striking on the 2nd or 3rd and well, if he conforms to the pattern...” He looked around the three of them. “You should probably tell your kids to not go out clubbing on those nights if you think they’re going to.”
***
Hermione skipped about the booze and the parties. She even skipped about the children, because that was a discussion that would require a few hours and possibly some privacy, not that Hermione would ever bring it up.
"Harry, you can't say any of that. Ever. Because the moment you say something like that, do you know what the follow up is?" she asked. "I'll tell you what it is. If you feel so strongly, do you really think that throwing money at the Ministry will help? That won't get them adopted. If you really care, why aren't you adopting one?" She could just see them, pushing Harry until it seemed like the only reasonable question.
"And then what happens? That you feel that you have to, and you'll go and see those faces and feel bad, and then you'll feel that you somehow must do something, and before you know it, you're bringing home a child that you shouldn't bring home." Hermione sighed. "You know that it'll go exactly like that, because you'll feel that you have to do the right thing, and that's your second choice, and children shouldn't be left alone. And really don't be so stupid, so don't say anything."
***
“Then what am I supposed to do? Nothing? Hermione, I have more money than I care about. I don’t even need that much. Isn’t there a way I could do it anonymously?” he asked, wondering if there was a way to set up an anonymous vault or something like it. “I can’t do nothing. I’ve never been able to do nothing, even when I should do.” And perhaps he did have a bit of a hero complex and felt like he had to save everybody but he couldn’t wipe the idea.
He knew she was right and that in all likelihood, he would end up with a child. Or two. Or… Well, as many as he could probably fit in the house and look after and he had absolutely no business being a dad again. Not when he’d fucked it up rather spectacularly the first time. He felt a pulse of anger and looked up surprised when the fire flared brighter for no explicable reason. “Sometimes, I fucking hate this world,” he muttered angrily. “I’ve got to do something to help and don’t tell me this isn’t my fight when I work for the very Ministry that’s trying to put this in place.”
***
"I'll make sure that whatever orphanage runs well, but no amount of money is not going to get people to adopt them. Having someone set an example will, and that person cannot be you, because if you do," she said very calmly. "Not only you'll fuck up being a parent to another child, and if you don't, you will lose your children this time. I've never said anything before, but I'm not going to let you do this, and make no mistake, you will lose all three of them if they see that. Ron, Malfoy, talk some sense into him, while I'm busy finishing up this new bottle by myself."
***
Draco raised an eyebrow listening to this go back and forth. This actually made it a whole lot more clear as to how much Hermione Granger had actually kept the pair of them out of trouble - and he wondered how many more articles there would have been about Potter’s hot-headedness had she not been around to temper some of his stupider ideas. It was also certainly right that the man did not need to take on any more children.
“No, she’s right.” he replied gently, giving Potter’s hand a squeeze almost as a poor attempt at grounding him before anything went off. This close he could feel the tension in him, and there wasn’t really a whole lot he could do about it, he knew. “To help, it does need somebody to go ahead and start adopting. If you had someone up your sleeve who desperately wanted children but couldn’t have their own, would be good at parenting, and had the sort of profile to turn heads and influence people, now would be their time to shine.” he said. Of course, there had to be someone who would be a good enough fit, but finding them was something else altogether.
“And besides that, you’d also be hypocritical if you took on an orphaned child out of a sense of duty. As you’ve said, children should be truly wanted.” he said gently, almost trying to take the conversation away from Potter’s children because he absolutely did not want to comment on that. “I know that this is difficult when it’s something so close to your own heart, and I can appreciate that, but you can’t do this just because you feel backed into a corner with it. If it’s not right for you, it certainly wouldn’t be on a child. And you do have three others who you’d need to think about - if you were going to do this. Let’s face it, it’s a lovely notion in theory, but the reality would be very different.” he replied eventually, glancing at Ron seeing as he might be able to help given Hermione had clearly tapped out of this one.
***
“I know she’s right, it doesn’t mean I like it,” he said huffily, looking at Malfoy and then away again. He thunked his head against the back of the sofa softly and looked up at the ceiling. “Hermione, help me come up with something then or you know I’m going to end up doing stupid. Me adopting a child is a terrible idea, we all know that. I don’t have the time and I’m not- I recognise I’m not a good dad.” Something in his heart hurt to admit that but he couldn’t deny it. “But I’m not going to do nothing about this.”
“What else can we do?” he asked. “Do we know anybody who would want to adopt? How about- Oh!” He breathed as a thought occurred to him. “Neville and Hannah. Neville quit because they were going to try for a family and yet they never did manage to have children. I don’t know if they still want children or whether they would stay child-free at this age but… Maybe it’s worth talking to them?”
***
"Harry, we can't push people into wanting a child," she said. "I mean I can talk to them, or Ron can, because then it's nothing official, but we can't put them in a situation where they feel they have to adopt a child. No one should be put in that situation."
She sighed. "We will try to oppose it and then we'll try to give the ones who can't afford a child, support so they can afford. I'll speak with Lisa and see if she can have this company of hers up and running now so we aren't three years down the line and we end up with all these abandoned children. And finally we'll get money for an adoption. What we can't do is go out and say what we really want to say, because then they would expect us to adopt children and I draw the line at that. You need to draw the line at that. So yes, in the end, you will do nothing, because this is political."
She finished her glass. "And before I get completely drunk and you get completely obstinate over something that we can't solve, let's go have dinner."