He’d meant to be home in time for dinner. However, it had taken longer than he thought it would to finish everything up in Romania. When at last all the documents had been squared away, all of the goodbyes said, and his trunk of belongings enchanted to fit in his pocket, he Disapparated from the cozy hut he’d lived in for so many years.

He reappeared just down the road from the Burrow. He needed to come home. He needed to provide the extra support to a mother who had lost two sons and a daughter. His family needed him. He also needed to come home.

Year after year, Charlie Weasley was still being sought after by the best Quidditch teams in Great Britain. He couldn’t explain why he’d finally accepted, other than the feeling in his gut that told him it was simply time.

His room hadn’t changed much. The bed was still in the same spot, same bedspread. The same book was on the night stand. The curtains were still drawn open. He dropped his traveling bag on the floor at the foot of his bed, and then crossed over to the window. He put his hand on the string to release the drape and let it cover the view and close his room to the world.

But the moonlit garden was not empty as he expected it to be—there was someone down there, embracing the crisp September night air as if it were summer again. Charlie could not make the figure out, but he found his curiosity take hold of him, willing him to discover who the lonesome figure could be.

-!-

Hermione already knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, and the house seemed to stuffy. It was too full of memories. At least out here in the garden the memories could dissipate into the great void. Out here, the memories always seemed to encompass more people as well - there was that lovely evening before the Quidditch World Cup with all of the Weasleys, her, and Harry; Bill and Fleur's wedding, etc.

She was surprised, but.... relieved when someone plopped down next to her on the swell of the hill. The weather beaten features, the stocky build, the awkwardly unfamiliar air - anything was a comfort at this time, and she’d always liked Charlie.

“Hermione Granger,� he smiled. “It’s a beautiful night, but what are you doing out so late? It’s well after midnight.�

“Escaping the house.�

They didn’t say anything for a while. They simply gazed at the sky, the way the moonlight bathed the trees and grounds around them, and then Charlie noticed that Hermione’s eyes were sparkling with tears and she saw him watching her instead of their surroundings.

“I miss them. It doesn’t seem right to be having a birthday without them. I’m moving forward in my life, and they’re dead.�

Charlie’s heart ached, and he didn’t want to talk or hear about the losses, but he knew it would be better for him in the future. Wounds left untreated were more likely to scar the soul. So he let Hermione talk, and he listened, because he knew that they both needed it.

She told him about every step of the way on their long journey to destroy all of the Horcruxes and, ultimately, defeat Voldemort. She spoke of Ginny’s death first. Then of Ron. They both cried bitter tears, and at this point, he brought her into his arms, hoping to comfort her, comfort them both.

Then she talked about sitting for days at Harry’s bedside at St. Mungo’s. Only seven days. Then Harry joined all of the loved ones that he’d lost.

She even told Charlie about Percy, and why he still wouldn’t swallow his pride and come back to his family.

Charlie had lost so much time with his family, and they hadn’t informed him of so much of what had happened. Yes, they told him about the things of the most importance, but after Hermione filled in the details of the big events, he asked her to tell him about the rest. He wanted to know about the time when Fleur showed up, a month after her wedding, in tears. So Hermione told him about Mrs. Weasley comforting Fleur, wiping her tears, and then nearly hexing Bill in anger when he showed up, giving him quite the lecture about being a good husband.

She told him about Fred and George’s Christmas present to their father: a set of something called 'Pokemon Cards' which had no actual use... much like the other things Mr. Weasley collected. But they were snappy colors.

They walked for a while and then sat again, and when Hermione’s voice became a bit hoarse from all the storytelling, Charlie took over. He told her about what it was like to grow up as a child in a wizarding family. He told her what it felt like to play Quidditch, to soar through the air, your adrenaline pumping in a game, and your mind focused on all the aspects of play, strategy and teamwork. He told her about working with the dragons in Romania, and why he’d gone there in the first place.

Hermione felt so connected to Charlie when he was listening to her, and she felt drawn into him completely when he talked, and when they sat in silence for a while, she felt that it was completely entrancing. When he at last brushed a hand across her cheek, calloused as it was, she leaned into his caress. He guided her head gently toward his own, and he met her lips briefly.

He kept his eyes open to watch her reaction. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Just one kiss. Then he held her through the sunrise.

“COME on, Perce,� Charlie pressed. “It’s been six years since you left. It’s time to come home. You owe it to Mum.�

“No.� Percy continued flipping through the leaves of parchment in front of him.

“You arrogant berk! The woman gave life to you and you refuse to come to a family dinner?� he seethed at his younger brother.

“Give Hermione my regards. You can leave now.� Percy stood, strutted across his office, and opened his office door, ushering Charlie out in no uncertain terms.

“All right, Perce?� A burly, brown-haired young man popped his head around the door frame.

“Just fine, Wood, but a little busy,� he replied coldly, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Charlie strode angrily out the door without saying goodbye. Oliver trotted to catch up to his friend. “I don’t understand how he can have so much willpower to withstand your mum’s cooking. Was he stripped of taste buds when he started working at the Ministry?�

“No, I think they removed his stomach so that he could devote all of his time to his work. Obviously eating would be a significant distraction,� Charlie mused sarcastically.

When Charlie joined Puddlemere United two years before, he and Oliver had become fast friends. They’d played together on the house team back at Hogwarts. Back then Charlie had been captain for Gryffindor, but now it was Oliver who was the captain. Charlie had been in a bit of shock when he was first introduced to the intensity with which Wood captained the team. He had no idea that the young Keeper he’d known at school was going to transform into such an enthusiastic, passionate, and obsessive player.

Before leaving the Ministry of Magic Offices, they dropped by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to remind Kingsley and Tonks that they were invited (and from Charlie’s point of view virtually expected) for dinner at the Burrow that night. Once Charlie and Oliver reached the Apparition point, they departed for the Burrow. They entered through the kitchen door, immediately accosted by the wonderful smells of deliciously edible comfort.

“Hello, boys,� Mrs. Weasley smiled.

“Hello, Mum.� Charlie kissed his mother’s cheek.

“Hello, Mrs. Weasley,� Oliver beamed.

“Oh, Oliver, I’m so glad you could make it for dinner tonight!� she exclaimed.

“Wouldn’t miss it.�

“Of course you wouldn’t. He’s like a stray, Mum, once you feed him, there’s no getting rid of him,� Charlie winked at his mother.

“Oh, really?� Oliver asked, raising a brow.

“Yeah, really,� Charlie replied.

“I guess you’re right,� Oliver confirmed, and the three laughed.

“Well, you two boys run and get washed up,� she instructed, as if they were still young teenagers, “it’s a special night for Hermione, and I expect you two to look presentable.�

It was a testament to just how close Charlie and Oliver had become that Oliver had quite an array of his own personal belongings at the Burrow. The two changed into some clean clothes, not too fancy, but nice enough for the birthday dinner. Bill and Fleur had already been married when Charlie came back from Romania two years before, and it had been hard to adjust to being at home and not having Bill at his side at all times. Oliver actually turned out to be the sort of brother Percy should have been, but Charlie never admitted that even to himself.

“What are you doing?� Oliver asked.

“Getting ready,� Charlie answered.

“You never take this much time to get ready for anything.�

“What are you talking about?�

“That’s the third time you’ve combed your hair,� Oliver laughed as Charlie’s cheeks turned a shade of red to match his hair.

“Fine. You won’t leave me alone unless I tell you, will you?�

“You’re catching on nicely.�

Charlie took a deep breath and slowly turned around to look at his friend. He didn’t meet his eyes though.

“Merlin, it’s Hermione, isn’t it?� Oliver exclaimed.

Charlie dropped his head a bit sheepishly.

Oliver jumped off the bed, “You fancy her!�

“Keep your voice down,� Charlie hissed. “You’re acting like we’re fifteen!�

When Oliver finally stopped laughing, he sat back down on the bed, and Charlie took a seat in the squishy armchair he’d conjured as part of the furnishings a couple of years before. “You’re the one acting like a teenage boy with a crush,� Oliver pointed out.

Charlie took another deep breath before telling Oliver about the night he’d returned to the Burrow, though he conveniently finished the tale before he got to the part where he’d kissed Hermione. Oliver had a huge grin plastered from ear to ear. “For the love of Dragons, Oliver, I don’t even know if I like her!� That grin was very unnerving.

“Let me get this straight, though, you haven’t seen her even once since then?�

“No.�

“Why the bloody hell not?�

Charlie shrugged. “She’s been busy, I’ve been busy. Mostly busy with work. I’m gone for Quidditch loads of the time, and she works in the Department of Mysteries in a special investigative research position, so she’s always going off to study different things around the world.�

“You sure know a lot about her for not keeping in touch,� Oliver noted.

“Just because I haven’t seen her doesn’t mean the rest of the family hasn’t.�

“Right then, I can understand that.� Neither said anything for a moment, and then Oliver grinned again. “So, you going to give her a nice birthday kiss?�

Charlie tackled him, and the two battled it out for a few minutes. They straightened up, and then Oliver said, “You’d best comb your hair again!� before rushing out of the room and down the stairs before Charlie could hit him again.

Hermione Apparated directly to the Weasley’s from work. She was glad to be through with the debriefing at the Department of Mysteries. Working there was like watching a train wreck. It was painful because of the memories she had from fifth year when she’d been there fighting Death Eaters with Harry, Ron and Ginny. However, her curious mind couldn’t resist the secrets stored there and the things still left to be figured out.

After a year of working in the depths of the offices at the Ministry headquarters, Hermione had been promoted to a field researcher. It gave her the opportunity to travel to many fascinating places, and her superiors had given her plenty of freedom in which whispers, leads and interests to pursue, so long as she remain productive. Lately she had been fascinated by the Great Barrier Reef. She’d spent the last nine weeks exclusively studying the magical creatures that inhabited the coral reef. After classifying the previously undiscovered creatures, the Department of Magical Creatures had called for the help of the Unspeakables.

Hermione’s direct supervisor, a dedicated woman named Muriel Stenthis, had insisted that the young Unspeakable take the opportunity to go make the grand report to London, especially since it was her birthday. It wasn’t so much that Hermione didn’t want to be at home with her family and friends as it was her penchant to get completely wrapped up in her research. She was grateful to have Muriel looking out for her sanity and social life.

When Molly (she refused to let Hermione call her anything else after their extensive history) learned that Hermione was coming back to the country, and on her birthday no less, she’d insisted Hermione come to dinner at the Burrow. Hermione’s father had been invited over as well.

“There you are, dear girl!� Molly pushed the kitchen window open and called out cheerily.

Hermione quickened her steps up the path to the house, a few garden gnomes scurrying past her ankles. Just as Hermione reached the back stair, a ginger puff of fur pounced at her feet, brushing up against her leg affectionately. “Hello, Crookshanks,� Hermione said, gently stroking her kneazle of a cat behind the ears. The bandy-legged creature only required a moment of attention before he was off to chase more gnomes.

Hermione opened the kitchen door and breathed in the heavy aroma of delicious food that welcomed her before Molly could reach her and pull into a sweet hug. “Oh, dear, dear girl, you need to come home more often! You’re far to bony! Do you take time for regular meals?�

She pulled back to look Hermione in the face. Hermione met her gaze with a sheepish smile.

Molly clucked her tongue, and Hermione laughed. “It’s not nearly as enticing as your cooking by a long shot,� she offered.

“You do know how to flatter a woman away from worry. Even so, if you don’t get the proper nutrition now, you’ll regret it the rest of your life.�

“Good thing you take care of-�

Hermione broke off, jumping as there were thunderous sounds coming from above their heads.

“Those boys!� Molly looked to the ceiling in annoyance.

“Are Fred and George up there?� Hermione asked. She was surprised, as the last she knew was that they still lived in the flat above their shop in Diagon Alley.

“Merlin, no. Charlie and Oliver,� Molly answered as she bustled back to the stove and the cutting board.

“Charlie and Oliver?� Hermione asked, surprised.

“Yes, Oliver Wood, dear. He was a few years ahead of you at Hogwarts. He plays on Puddlemere with Charlie.�

“Oh,� was the weak reply Hermione managed.

She hadn’t seen Charlie in ages.

Not since he’d kissed her.

The weeks and months following that morning, Hermione had hoped she’d see a lot more of the older Weasley boy, but she hadn’t. She’d eventually put the experience into the back of her mind, but she couldn’t suppress the small flutter in her heart now that she knew he was in the same house.

She turned when there was a thundering down the stairs, her heart racing now. Charlie would appear at the foot of the stairs at any second.

Oliver was the only one to blunder into the kitchen, though. “Hermione,� he greeted her with a silly grin that she wasn’t quite sure of.

“Oliver,� she answered back, almost in a question.

He gave her a hearty wink, and then turned to Molly. Hermione raised her brow in bewilderment, but Oliver didn’t see. “How long until dinner, Mrs. Weasley? The smell is torture!�

Molly laughed and slapped Oliver’s hand away from a large basket of steaming rolls on the counter. “Oliver, why don’t you set the table?� Molly gave a few flicks of her wand, and plates and silverware clanked out of their cupboards and drawers and onto the counter.

There was another thundering on the stairs, and Hermione didn’t even have time to turn around before the person collided with her. Two strong arms wrapped around her waist to keep her from falling over.

“Charlie!� Molly scolded. “You’re not a bumbling teenager! You could’ve knocked Hermione clean off her feet!�

“Sorry,� Charlie muttered, an impish smile on his face.

“You should be,� Oliver chimed in. “What if that had been me, taking food to the table? You would’ve spilt the meal all over the floor, and then what would we eat?�

Hermione cleared her throat quietly, and Charlie realized he still had his arms wrapped around the girl. The woman, he corrected himself. Those were not the curves of a girl, he thought, his ears turning slightly red as he released Hermione, who smoothed her blouse.

Molly turned back to the stove so that she could smile to herself. Charlie and Hermione? Perhaps. “Charlie, why don’t you help Oliver with the table?�

“Sure, Mum,� Charlie said, taking the large stack of plates in his arms and out to the garden, Oliver following behind with the silverware levitating in front of him.

“How many people are coming for dinner tonight? That was quite a lot of plates you sent Charlie out with.�

Molly chuckled. “Hermione, dear, you’ve been out of the country for quite a long time, and it’s your birthday.�

Hermione blushed and looked to the floor.

“Your father will be along; Remus and Tonks; the Shacklebolts; the rest of our family.� Molly paused before quietly adding, “Except for Percy.� She frowned for a moment, but then brightened again. “I think George is even bringing Andrea. Hermione, would you mind answering the door?� she asked at the sound of knocking.

It wasn’t too long before the house and garden were bustling with guests: family, and then those who were just as dear as family. Kingsley’s wife, Caroline, and Hermione’s father, Stephen, were the only Muggles. Remus and Tonks were busy trying to keep an eye on their children, Dillon, who was almost three, and the infant twin girls Daphne and Delaney. Dillon was running around like a loose firework, and there were plenty of hands willing to hold the precious little girls. Hermione had been a little apprehensive the first time her father had been invited to the Burrow, but Stephen Granger and Arthur Weasley enjoyed discovering each other’s worlds and got into deep discussions that would last most of the evening.

George and Andrea were in a corner of the garden, completely intent on each other. Fred, Oliver and Charlie were entertaining Dillon with small bubble charms. Bill and Fleur were the last to arrive, and everyone quickly gathered around the tables, pushed together and groaning under Mrs. Weasley’s fabulous cooking. Hermione ended up sitting across from Fleur, Bill, and Charlie, with Oliver on her left and Andrea on her right.

Hermione spent a lot of time during the meal catching up with Andrea. The two were in the same house and year back at Hogwarts. Andrea was now playing Quidditch professionally for England. She started as a Chaser playing in the North American League for the Sweetwater All-Stars in Texas, led her team to a cup victory there, and then was asked to come play for the Falmouth Falcons as their star Chaser. While Andrea and George had been going together at Hogwarts, they’d split before Andrea’s seventh year, and evidently had only gotten back together a few days before this dinner.

When Hermione started telling Andrea, and the others consequently, about life in Australia, it wasn’t long before she was interrupted by Fleur.

“Eet is no wonder,� she clucked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Your ‘air looks tres jolie, but your skin is far too dark. You weel ruin your complexion.�

A few of the people around Hermione tried not to laugh; Andrea rolled her eyes, and urged Hermione to continue. Earlier in the conversation, Fleur had thoroughly explained to Hermione the ages of pregnant beauty. Fleur was at the first of those ages, thus explaining why she and Bill were having a baby at this time.

Dinner cleared for dessert, and then everyone pushed back from the table. Some went to the kitchen to help Molly clean up, some went into the living room for a few games. Oliver, Charlie, Andrea, George, Fred and Hermione lingered in the garden. The evening smelled deliciously of those last threads of summer. Andrea laughed at something George whispered in her ear, and the two kissed.

“The two of you could give it a rest. You’re almost worse than Bill and Fleur when they were engaged,� Charlie pretended to glare at the young couple.

“Oh, no way, no one could be worse than Bill and Fleur the week before the wedding,� Fred argued, “and I’ve been around these two plenty.�

“That’s so odd how she only wants to be pregnant during the ages of pregnant beauty or whatever. Is it a French belief, or is it Veela tradition?�

“I’d guess Veela,� Hermione answered. “I’m sure I would’ve come across something about it in all of my French readings.�

“I’m more interested to know what Bill thinks about it,� Oliver chuckled.

“I asked him about it a few weeks ago, actually,� Fred chuckled. “He said he’d wanted kids from the moment they got married, but he didn’t pressure Fleur since she’s the one that has to actually go through the pregnancy.�

“Smart man,� Charlie nodded. “He’s got to deal with the mother of his child. Better that she be pleased with her situation.�

“You Weasley boys seem to talk about quite a bit of personal business,� Andrea remarked. “Is there anything I should be worried that you know about me?�

Charlie and Fred burst into a big fit of laughter at this, and George and Oliver looked as if they were both trying very hard not to laugh as well. Hermione smiled, not surprised in the least.

“Looks as if I need to take someone off for a bit of an inquisition,� Andrea concluded, and stood, pulling George along with her from the table and into the trees.

“I have a feeling George won’t mind her inquisition one bit,� Oliver laughed.

Sure enough, they didn’t see George and Andrea for at least another hour. When dusk finally came, people started to leave the Burrow. Remus, Tonks, and their adorable children were the first to go. Hermione’s father was the next to make his move to the door. Hermione went out with him. “You can stay longer. I just have to work early in the morning,� he told Hermione out on the porch.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?� Hermione asked.

“Of course not, it’s your birthday. I’ll see you tomorrow either way,� he smiled, then kissed her forehead.

“See you later, then.� Hermione hugged her father tightly, and then watched him cross the garden and get in his car. Then, she waved and watched him until the car was no longer visible through the trees. As she turned to go back inside, Oliver and Charlie came out.

“I’m off for the night as well,� Oliver announced. “We’ve got practice tomorrow morning, so don’t stay up too late, Weasley.�

“I will,� Charlie replied, winking at Hermione.

Oliver glared at him for a moment, but then let it go. “I know where you live, Weasley, and I’m not opposed to coming here and waking you up myself.� Then he turned to Hermione. “Happy birthday,� he said before kissing her on the cheek. “We’ll be seeing more of you around, yes?�

“Well,� Hermione was a bit flustered from the unexpected kiss, but strung her words together anyway, “I’ll be here in London until the end of October. The vacation is forced, and my supervisor has a lot of things she wants me to take care of while I’m here, as well.�

“Good. Then you’ll come to our exhibition game on Saturday.�

“Just say yes,� Charlie whispered behind her.

“Sounds lovely,� Hermione put on her best smile.

“Great! See you then.� And with that, Oliver turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Charlie laughed. “It’s best not to cross Oliver where Quidditch is concerned. I’m surprised we didn’t see sparks flying between Andrea and Oliver tonight, since Andrea will be playing against us.�

Hermione turned to face him. She tried to keep the smile on her face, but evidently there was no fooling Charlie.

“What’s the matter?�

“The last game I went to was at Hogwarts. It’ll be very...� she trailed off.

“I understand.�

Hermione gave a small laugh. “Looks like we’re in the same situation we were two years ago.�

Charlie laughed as well. “It was good to have someone to talk to. I’ve missed seeing you around. It seems like we’ve been missing each other here at the Burrow.�

“I always enjoyed getting your letters.�

“I didn’t write often enough.�

“No,� she admitted, “you didn’t.�

“Would you mind terribly if I kissed you again?�

Hermione’s jaw dropped slightly. How was she supposed to respond to that?

A high-pitched yell and then torrents of laughter erupted nearby in the trees, and Hermione and Charlie both whipped around to see what was going on. Three seconds later, Andrea came bolting out of the trees with George right on her heels. George was soaking wet, and he had a large bucket in his hands, water slushing out as he tried to catch his girlfriend.

Andrea darted between Charlie and Hermione and pushed quickly through the door. “Ha!� she exclaimed, closing the door most of the way and sticking only her head out. “I win!�

Charlie and Hermione laughed at George as he pouted, bucket hanging at his side. “What happened?� Charlie finally managed to choke out through his laughter.

“She shoved me into the pond,� George grumbled.

Hermione and Charlie bursst into laughter again. That is, they laughed until they were hit with a bucket of water.

The Blacks were well known for a few things. First, their most noble and pure blood. Second, their attractive nature. Third, the Black brothers, Sirius and Regulus, who had fought against the Dark Lord Voldemort. Mainly, though, the Blacks were noted for their resourcefulness and copious amounts of intelligence.

Imogen Hope Black wasn't antisocial, nor was she a workaholic. Imogen couldn’t change the fact that she was introverted to the point of seeming shy to those who didn't know her, nor could she change the fact that her job at the Ministry of Magic called on her at strange hours.

On leaving Hogwarts, Imogen had been granted immediate entry into the Bonham Academy of Magical Medicine and Healing. Most Hogwarts graduates who wanted to pursue a career as a Healer had to prepare for another year before they could take the entrance examination, but a student who received an Outstanding rating on all of the necessary N.E.W.T. subjects was exempt from the entrance exam. Imogen had been in Ravenclaw House and had also been the Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for a reason.

Even at Bonham Academy, Imogen had been ahead of her fellow students. She completed her coursework and training in fifteen months instead of eighteen and went directly to work at St. Mungo’s. Six months after that, she was recruited by the Ministry’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement to join one of the select investigational teams as a medical examiner.

So here she sat, examining a blood sample found at a recent magical catastrophe. There were a few Muggles found near the mostly deserted highland where the fire had taken place, but there was no doubt that magic had been involved. How else would exactly three hundred and thirty-three square meters be set aflame in a perfectly circular design? The Muggles assumed it was ‘extraterrestrial’ activity. They always did. The Muggles who had seen it would have their memories modified, and the Magical Damage Control Department would have the damage to the land repaired by noon. That’s just how they handled these situations.

It had been the twenty-first when Imogen’s supervisor had called her to report to the fire. The sun was now rising on the morning of the twenty-second. It wasn’t unnatural for the witches and wizards in this department to spend all night at the office and then stay for the regular day of work afterwards. The team was dedicated, and their supervisor trusted them to work when they needed to work, and to rest when they could.

Luckily, the fire had been merely that: a fire, which meant that Imogen would be keeping her morning engagements. She was expected for brunch at the estate of her best friend, Siobhan, and it would be rude to yawn through the meal. She would pack up for now and come back later in the afternoon. She obviously needed a break as it was; there couldn’t possibly be a three-to-one ratio of silver in the blood she was analyzing.

A solid fifteen minutes: they say that’s all the sleep you need if you take naps throughout the day.

Imogen didn’t believe it, but that’s just about all she had time for. She had a list of things she’d planned on doing this morning before she went to Siobhan’s, and the fact that she’d been summoned unexpectedly to work didn’t change that. After her quick rest, Imogen tamed her hair, gave her cheeks a slight blushing charm and changed into a fresh, smart looking set of robes that was very flattering on her. It was also trimmed in grey to enhance her eyes. It may have been a tad fancy for brunch with a friend, but Siobhan’s attractive brother Liam had been known to drop in at the estate any time. It didn’t matter that Liam, a bit of a womanizer, had been making frequent trips to Sweden; it was just the fact that Imogen Black couldn’t help but like to be praised and admired.

She was fond of walking through the city streets of London, but one look outside told her that wouldn’t be the smartest decision this morning.

“Buckets of rain,� she mused as it pelted the windows of her home. It was a shame she couldn’t enjoy it properly. She loved rain.

Imogen Apparated directly to the home of her grandmother, Elizabeth Mavick. She was greeted in the entryway and ushered into the breakrast room by her great aunt Amelia.

“Well, don’t you look lovely today, my dear!� Her grandmother smiled broadly and gestured to a seat at the table.

“Thank you. The two of you look well.�

Aunt Amelia smiled, and Imogen walked over to hug her grandmother before sitting down.

“We try in our old age. But look at those bags under your eyes!� Elizabeth held Imogen’s head in her hands, examining her face before whipping her wand out and muttering a small charm. The older woman clucked her tongue. "They work you too much, Immi."

"What else am I going to do?�

"You could always sit at home and knit." Grandmother smiled impishly. "Tea?"

"Only with scones."

"Always with scones. Cream and jam, as well. I'd like to believe I know my little Immi well enough to remember these important things."

Amelia offered to fetch the tea and scones, and Imogen waited until she was gone before speaking again. "How is Mum?"

"No changes to her condition, though she seems to perk up whenever you visit her."

"And how is Aunt Amelia doing?"

"Good in body, poor in spirit, though she puts on a braver face than anyone I know."

"I can think of someone else in this room who is rather brave. So, tell me how you are. Honestly."

"My legs are stiff from so much walking over the years."

“I actually brought you something for that.� Imogen smiled and dug around in her large satchel for a jar of salve she’d been developing. “And how is your spirit?�

“Taking care of the people I love the most makes me happy. Watching over your mum isn’t a burden, and I’d do anything if it were possible to get Amelia’s voice back. She could sing like a lark when we were younger.�

Imogen reached across the table, setting down the jar, and then gave her grandmother’s hand a squeeze.

After tea and scones and quick check ups on the three women of the house, Imogen Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. She had one stop before popping over to Siobhan’s. She needed some of Fortescue’s produce. Nothing else really compared, and she knew her best friend couldn’t resist a delicious strawberry. Fabian Fortescue, brother and supplier of famed ice cream maker Florean, had mastered no one knew what sorts of charms and had been growing the most delectable fruits and selling them in Diagon Alley.

The rain had finally cleared, though the streets were still wet. Imogen walked with purpose, but still took in her surroundings. It was pleasantly busy throughout the wizarding shopping district, but not overwhelmingly so. Just enough hustle and bustle to keep it cheery. As Imogen turned the corner, she caught sight of someone she did not want to see. Someone she had tried to avoid as much as she could for seven years at Hogwarts, which had been mostly impossible, seeing as they’d been in the same house.

Luna Lovegood was standing in front of Fortescue’s Market. Imogen quickly ducked behind a newsstand in the street.

It wasn’t that Luna was a rude person, or unintelligent. She was just strange and awkward to talk to. Peeking through the stacks of papers and magazines, Imogen could see there was no possible way she could slip into Fortescue’s undetected. It also looked as if Luna was in no hurry to end the conversation she was having with one of her fellow shoppers.

Imogen jumped and spun around when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Imogen, what are you doing?� Andrew Kirke, prominent reporter at the Daily Prophet, asked, an amused look playing on his face.

“You gave me a fright!� Imogen replied.

“What are you doing?� he repeated. His green eyes were full of mirth and his blonde hair was catching the sun, and Imogen had to remind herself not to stare at her friend. “You’re obviously not going to work dressed like that.�

“No,� she confessed.

“So it seems that you’ve got some high intoned fancy to-do. How is it that I did not merit an invitation?� He gave her a pout.

“I suppose I’ve just got better connections.� They both laughed. Imogen looked back over her shoulder.

“Are you going to make me ask you again just what it is you’re doing?�

Looking back at Andrew, she sighed, knowing how silly she was going to sound. “I need a punnet of strawberries and half a dozen oranges and two kiwis. And a punnet of raspberries, as well.�

“You can’t get those at a newsstand.�

“I know, but there is no way I can get in and out of Fortescue’s without being noticed by Luna Lovegood.�

Andrew looked over her shoulder and chuckled. “You said oranges, kiwis, strawberries and raspberries, yes?�

Imogen nodded.

“Wait here. I’m about to save your day. Do buy a paper or something. You look ridiculous just standing here spying on people.�

He left in a flash. Andrew Kirke did everything quickly. He was a reporter at the Daily Prophet, and Imogen knew him so well because he’d been assigned to cover the investigation team that Imogen was a part of. Andrew was tall and well built without being overwhelming. He was full of charm, and very intelligent. The two had a lot in common and got along really well. Imogen found it was easy to be around him most of the time, though at times he had an air of casual pride that was unbearable and exhausting. It was those times that Andrew felt he knew everything that was going on. He knew when someone was spouting off a silly idea. He also made sure people knew when he’d attained some new recognition or achievement. He had a right to be proud though. He’d always been talented, and he’d been Head Boy at Hogwarts and even played a bit of Quidditch, winning the House Cup with his team. It didn’t help that a fair few girls had flung themselves at him over the years.

Ultimately, no one was perfect, but Imogen thought that Andrew was a lot closer than most people. He returned in a little over five minutes with a sack of produce under his arm and a huge smile on his face.

“Andrew, thank you so much. What do I owe you?� she asked pulling out her coin purse.

Andrew handed her the bag of fruit and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night and we’ll call it even.�

Imogen opened her mouth to reply, but she was shocked.

“I’ll come round to your place at seven, Immi,� he chuckled as he turned and walked down the street. He turned back to look at her a moment later, giving her a huge smile. Imogen blushed and then Disapparated to Siobhan’s.

“You missed a great match today, George.�

“How’d it go? I’m assuming Puddlemere won if it was ‘a great match.’�

Fred nodded to verify. “Short, but very intense. Seventeen minutes, Puddlemere took the game 180-10 against the Harpies, and those women only scored after their Beaters had attacked Oliver.�

“Impressive. Good start to a Cup year. I, however, went to a great exhibition match and an excellent victory party.� George winked at his brother.

Fred laughed. “Spare me the details of the party, but I’d be interested to hear how the game went. How many goals did your girlfriend score?�

“Eleven of the fourteen.�

“A real team player, that one.�

“They pass to her in almost every play unless a member of the other team manages to get near her, which is rare because she’s a crafty flier. There’s a reason that the Falmouth Falcons were wetting their knickers to get her on their team.�

“She certainly surprised everyone by playing over in the North American League,� Fred said. “It was a smart move though - made everyone here realize how much they wanted her. She’s on the national team for sure next summer.�

“I’d put on the Oliver team. Charlie, too, if he has a year like he did two years ago.�

After a few more minutes of discussing Quidditch, George finally announced that he’d better be off to bed. “I’ve got a breakfast date with Andrea,� he smiled.

“Good for you. You were too miserable without her, even if you tried to cover it up.�

George rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. “I want to marry her. Do you think I should?�

“What sort of a ridiculous question is that?�

“Well, would you mind?�

“Merlin, George, of course I would mind, but only if it ruined the business. I want to have a bird of my own someday, not be sharing a flat with you when I’m eighty.�

“I’m a good flatmate,� George smirked.

“You’re a terrible flatmate. You walk around mooning about some girl all hours of the bleeding day,� Fred laughed, “and you eat all of the jam.�



Hermione continued flipping through the Prophet as she sat at the table, her breakfast bowl already long empty. She only had a few more pages, and she didn’t have much of anything planned for the day.

Even though Hermione was happy to be home with family and friends close by, the truth of the matter was that she, Hermione Jane Granger, didn’t know how to take a vacation. When she’d left Australia, Muriel Stenthis had given her a set of tasks to take care of at the Department of Mysteries’ headquarters at the Ministry. Hermione had already completed the tasks. She’d weeded the garden. She’d made some small modifications to the kitchen, just a few remodels that would make things nicer. She’d read Hogwarts, A History again for old times’ sake. She’d gone to the Puddlemere exhibition game, and she’d also spent quite a bit of time with Charlie.

She smiled at that thought. Charlie was indescribable.

Flipping another page, she came to the Quidditch Coverage section. It had been a good match, and Fred had kept up a detailed commentary for her through the match, but Hermione read the article anyway. There were a few summaries of other matches that had taken place. However, the thing that caught Hermione’s eye was a small paragraph on the opposite page. There were four or five sentences about a small magical mishap on the twenty-first. A field south of Glastonburry had been set aflame, and they knew that it had been a magical fire because of the evidence found at the scene. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was looking into the case.

Hermione was getting ready to think about the lack of information when there was a knock at the kitchen door. She looked up to see Charlie’s face smiling through the pane of glass in the door, and waved him inside.

“Good morning,� Hermione greeted, folding up the paper and then tossing it into the rubbish bin.

“Good morning! How would you like to come and have afternoon tea with me?� He asked.

Hermione smiled. “That sounds lovely.�

“It’s the annual Quidditch League Tea at the Benning Manor near Kent,� Charlie explained.

“Well, do I need to wear anything special?�

“Best not to wear anything particularly special. Last year there was a bit of a food fight. The Harpies actually started it, and we already know they’re not in a good mood this year.�

“Because you beat them soundly yesterday?� Hermione asked teasingly.

“You know, that might have something to do with it.� Charlie scratched his chin, and then the two laughed.

“Would you like anything? Tea or toast?�

“Well, I did already have breakfast at the Burrow.�

“Oh, I’ll just clear this away then.�

“Oi, what about second breakfast?� Charlie protested. He sat down across from Hermione and pulled a plate of toast towards him. “I didn’t say I didn’t want anything. We Quidditch men have to keep up our strength.�

“My mistake,� Hermione laughed.



Andrea and George were talking in two entirely different conversations, but they were still holding hands. Andrea had missed the way she and George were together. She didn’t realize just how much she’d missed him until he was back in her life. She honestly didn’t know if she could ever want to be away from him again. Not in the long-term sense of things anyway. It was always nice to have one’s own space and things that one did without one’s significant other, but she enjoyed spending the majority of her time with George more than any other person. Even now, when they weren’t involved in the same conversation, just having him right behind her gave her such a positive energy.

Andrea had worried that perhaps what they’d had at Hogwarts had been a fluke of first love that was more than it actually was. She was glad she hadn’t fooled herself about the feeling of perfection in her relationship with George, that it hadn’t simply been her own recollections being tainted by time. They still had their different views about some things, but after their reconciliation, the years seemed to fall away, and it was like they’d picked up where they’d left off before the breakup. She couldn’t seem to get the smile off of her face now. She hadn’t been left desolate and completely miserable, but having George back in her life just made things all the better.

George gave her hand a squeeze at that moment, and she felt a butterfly whiz around her insides. She concentrated on listening to Hermione’s thought, though. It was always nice to see the good-natured Hermione Granger. It was good to have her back in the country for a few weeks. Andrea took the opportunity to tell her so.

Hermione smiled warmly. “It’s good to be back. I confess I’m getting restless, though.�

“You’ve not even been back for a whole week!�

“I know, but I can’t help it,� Hermione defended.

“Hasn’t Charlie been keeping you busy?� Andrea asked in a whisper, smiling innocently.

“Don’t give me that look, Andrea,� Hermione scolded, blushing even as she busied herself with stirring her cup of tea. “Charlie’s been nice enough to entertain me.�

“Entertain you?� Andrea raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, for goodness sake! What gave you that idea?�

Andrea tried very hard not to laugh at the shade of red Hermione’s cheeks were taking on. “Why? What sort of entertainment do you think I’m talking about?�

“I...nothing,� Hermione answered, knowing that she wouldn’t beat Andrea in her teasing.

“What are you doing tomorrow morning? I know Puddlemere’s got practice.�

“How do you know that when you don’t even play for them?�

Andrea rolled her eyes. “If you think there’s not a team in the league that doesn’t know when the others are practicing, then I underestimated your intelligence. That’s beside the point. How would you like to meet me in Diagon Alley in the morning? I need to go to Flourish and Blotts to pick up a book and to talk to a woman named Tara about the appearance she wants the team to make. They want to attract some of the younger readers for more than just textbooks.�

“I’d like that. There was a new book about centaurs and their astronomical studies I wanted to pick up.�

“I figured there would be something,� Andrea said just as the crowd grew quiet. The time for the announcement of the season’s game schedule had finally arrived.

The Falcons were given a lot of international exposure games in addition to their regular league schedule. All of the teams were because it was a World Cup year. The World Cup schedule was also announced. If Andrea ended up playing all the way into the final match of the Cup, and some people told her that she would, and of course that’s what she wanted, then she would be playing and practicing nearly every week until the end of August the next fall. It was going to be a very busy year, and that was putting it lightly.

She looked to her left at George who was studying the dregs in the bottom of his tea cup. She knew what he was thinking. Quidditch was going to take up a lot of her time for the next eleven months. She tugged on his arm to get his attention. Their eyes met, and she smiled at him reassuringly. “Hey, don’t worry about it.�

“But my tea cup is empty,� he pouted.

Andrea shoved him slightly. “That’s not what I’m talking about. You are important to me.� She planted a short kiss on his lips. “I love you.�

He grinned. “I love you, too, Andrea.�