Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better
Dear Ginny:
Thank you for the gift. It was so beautiful I do not see myself using it… However, I have a feeling I’ll be serving tea to my mother-in-law in that set.
The wedding was beautiful. I wish you and Harry could have been there. I’m on my way to Madrid now, and if you need to contact me, Michael’s sister, Beth, has all the details of our hotels and the dates we will be in each city (I’ve enclosed directions on how to reach Beth with this letter.) We will be touring Europe for about two and a half months.
I really hope you are both happy and healthy. I’ll see you soon.
Love,
Hermione
“Hermione wrote,” said Ginny.
“Yeah? What did she say?” asked Harry.
“Just thanking us for the gift,” said Ginny. “And telling us how to contact her during the… the…”
“Honeymoon,” offered Harry.
“Don’t say it,” said Ginny, looking disgusted.
“Ginny, she’s pregnant,” said Harry. “Don’t look so… disturbed.”
Ginny shot Harry a warning look.
“Anyway,” continued Harry, “where are they going?”
“Harry!” exclaimed Ginny. “How could you be like that? Doesn’t it bother you at all?”
“Well, can I do anything about it?” asked Harry, exasperated. “You know it’s bothering me. You know how I feel about having the two, most stubborn people in the world as my best friends.”
Ginny looked as if she was about to cry.
“I just… I didn’t think she would go through with it, you know,” said Ginny.
“I understand. To tell you the truth, I didn’t think she would marry him, either. But tell me something, where are they going?” asked Harry, curiously, changing the subject.
“Harry!”
“What?”
“Fine! They will be ‘touring Europe’ for two months.”
“But it’s February!” exclaimed Harry.
“Yes, I know,” said Ginny. “And I hope they freeze to death.”
“Good morning! Get up! The day is beautiful!” exclaimed Michael, opening the curtains.
“Michael, I’m really tired,” said Hermione. “Can’t we sleep a bit more today?”
“We’re in Athens, Hermione! We must see it today!” said Michael excitedly.
“I thought you were thirty, Michael,” said Hermione, laughing. “But you’re starting to sound like Spencer.”
“And what’s wrong with him?” asked Michael in mock defiance.
“We just got here last night… I’m worn out! To be honest, it is not so comfortable to get around anymore. It is getting hot: I get tired quickly… And my clothes are getting really tight, by the way.”
“Then we’ll buy you new clothes,” said Michael simply. “We only have three days here, Hermione.”
“But I thought we were going to be here for a week,” said Hermione.
“No,” said Michael. “I said we were going to be in Greece for a week.”
“Oh,” said Hermione. “I didn’t realize…”
“Come on! Don’t they say ‘do as the Greeks do’?”
“It’s ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do’,” said Hermione, slightly annoyed.
“Which reminds me,” said Michael, looking around for something, “we have to be in Rome by next week if we have to finish by the first of April.”
“Why do we have to finish by April 1st?” asked a surprised Hermione, sitting up.
“Because…” said Michael uncomfortably, “I arranged some meetings for that week. I’ll have to be back in London by then.”
“Are you joking? Because this is not funny, Michael,” said Hermione.
“I wish I were joking, sweetheart,” said Michael. “But it is time to go back… We’ve had about five weeks of pure bliss“”
“But we agreed on two months, Michael,” said Hermione. “You promised.”
“Hermione,” said Michael, firmly, “I can’t do anything about it. They need me in London. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the week. By next week, we will be in Rome! Isn’t that exciting?”
“I guess,” said Hermione unenthusiastically.
“Come on, get dressed and let’s go.”
Dear Hermione,
I hope you are having a good time in Greece. Beth told us you would be getting ready to go to Rome when this letter reached you, so I hope you are alright and “on schedule.”
I’m writing to let you know that the babies made their grand appearances last night. You have two nephews and a niece. The first one to arrive was Henry Arthur Potter, who arrived at 11:45 p.m., weighed four pounds, and measured 39 centimetres. The second one was Ronald James Potter, who arrived a minute after his brother and also weighed four pounds but measured 41 centimetres (he had to be a Ron, right?). Last but certainly not least, Rebecca Jane Potter (Becky was middle-named Jane after her aunt, of course) who was born at 11:47 p.m. and weighed three-and-a-half pounds and measured 38 centimetres.
The babies are beautiful and healthy, but they will have to spend about a week in the hospital since they are still very small. Ginny is fine; she was brilliant during the whole process and told me to tell you she misses you very much and that she cannot wait for you to get back. Neither can Henry, Ron, and Becky, who are anxious to meet Aunt Hermione.
Hope to see you soon,
Harry
It was a particularly gloomy day. Michael and Hermione were just arriving to their hotel, The Inn, in Rome, when it started raining.
“We have impeccable timing,” Michael told Hermione as they got out of the car.
As they walked into the hotel, Hermione felt right at home. The hotel was small but beautiful.
“Buon giorno,” said the concierge, as Michael and Hermione approached him. “Come sta, signiore?”
“Bene, grazie,” replied Michael, in perfect Italian. “Parla inglese?”
“Of course, sir,” replied the concierge, in a distinct Italian accent. “How may I help?”
“We have a reservation. Michael Sandford,” said Michael.
“Well, of course, Mr. Sandford. We have been expecting you.” The concierge snapped his fingers and two bellhops appeared like magic. “Paolo! Alfonso! Il bagaglio!”
“You will be staying at the Penthouse, if I am not mistaken,” said the concierge.
“That’s correct,” said Michael. “For a week.”
“Very well,” said the concierge. “That will be €3,000 per night. I will need a credit card.”
Hermione almost choked on the water she had been drinking. Michael noticed her reaction and told her “I got it, okay?” She glared at him.
“Here are your room keys… I also have a letter addressed to a Ms. Hermione Granger…” said the concierge. “It was forwarded by a hotel in… Santorini. In Greece. I assume that is you, Mrs. Sandford?”
“Um, yes,” said Hermione awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with Michael.
“Here you go,” said the concierge.
“Grazie,” said Hermione, putting the envelope inside her new Birkin bag, which Michael had insisted on buying when they were in Paris.
“Prego,” replied the concierge.
“Thank you,” said Michael, grabbing his carry-on bags and heading to the lift.
“You are welcome,” said the concierge. “Have a pleasant stay.”
Michael and Hermione walked silently inside the lift as soon as the doors opened. Hermione was the first to speak when the doors closed.
“Three thousand euros? A night? We are paying twenty one thousand euros for a week!”
“Hermione… I am paying twenty one thousand euros.”
“Michael! That is reckless spending!”
“What do you want me to do?”
“It’s money that can be put to better use!” exclaimed Hermione. “Have you ever considered donating something to charity? Maybe our child?”
“Oh, please… In case you haven’t noticed, I happen to have a lot of money. Besides, we donate every year. Remember the gala, Ms. Granger?”
“Oh, shut up, Michael. The letter must be from Harry and Ginny.”
“What? Didn’t they get the memo?” asked Michael, as the doors of the lift opened and he walked out towards the double doors at the end of the corridor.
“Don’t change the subject. I’m talking about doing serious things for charity, not about your mother picking a night to dress up and show off in front of her“”
Hermione didn’t get a chance to finish that thought. Michael opened the doors of their room to reveal a truly incredible room. There were frescoes in the ceiling, for God’s sake! A working fireplace, windows everywhere, and through the white double doors to the left, what looked like the hugest bed Hermione had ever seen. There was a lovely terrace to the right, looking out to Via dei Condotti and the Piazza di Spagna.
“I think this is worth every penny,” said Hermione, dumbfounded.
“I’m glad you think so. What shall we do first? Unpack? Eat? Order tea? Or shall we have some fun?” said Michael, raising his eyebrows suggestively at Hermione. Without waiting for an answer, he walked toward her and started unbuttoning her blouse while simultaneously nibbling and kissing Hermione’s neck.
“I, uh… I think we should… Oh God… That feels… Michael… I don’t think you should…”
An hour later, Michael and Hermione lay tangled in the covers of the magnificent bed.
“I think I have to do something but I forgot,” said Hermione.
“Whatever,” said Michael, starting to kiss Hermione’s neck once more. “Want to have another go?”
“I think I will be fine for the rest of the day,” said Hermione, grinning. “Actually, I think I will be fine for the rest of the week.”
“You have a nice sense of humour,” said Michael.
“Seriously, I’m trying to remember… What did I have to do?”
“I can tell you“”
“The letter!” exclaimed Hermione. “I haven’t opened it!”
“Right,” said Michael, getting up. “I think I’ll hit the shower now.”
Hermione got up, pulling the bed’s sheets to cover herself. She looked hurriedly for her bag, spotting it on top of the dining room table. She sat down in the sitting room, ripping open the envelope impatiently.
As she read Harry’s letter, Hermione felt her eyes welling up and a knot forming in her throat. Hot tears slid down her cheeks.
I wasn’t there, was all she thought. Ginny gave birth and I wasn’t there.
“What happened? Is everything alright?” asked Michael, walking into the living room, nothing but a towel around his waist. “Is Ginny okay?”
“She’s fine,” said Hermione, wiping the tears off her face. “She gave birth.”
“What about the babies?” asked Michael.
“They’re fine,” said Hermione.
“So why are you crying?”
“I said I would be there, Michael. But I was too busy getting a tan,” said Hermione, her voice breaking as she said “tan.”
“Hermione, I’m sure she was fine,” said Michael.
“That’s not the point, Michael,” said Hermione. “Harry and Ginny are my best friends. I should have been there. I wanted to be there. I’m such a horrible friend…”
“Oh, please, Hermione,” said Michael. “You’re not a bad friend. Now, would you please stop crying? I swear, I have never seen a woman cry as much as you do. Anything that happens just gets you going. Put a sock in it.”
Michael’s comment was so unexpected that Hermione stopped crying immediately. She looked at Michael directly in the eye, shock taking over her.
“You can be such an insensitive git sometimes, you know that?” said Hermione, almost screaming, and getting up from the couch angrily and walking into the bedroom.
“What the hell is your problem?” asked Michael. “And since when do you talk like that?”
“I’m just telling it like it is,” said Hermione, looking around the room for the black trousers she had been wearing earlier. She found them under the bed and quickly put them on. Then she picked up her blouse and buttoned it up hurriedly, while walking into the sitting room to get her shoes.
“What are you doing?” asked Michael.
“What does it look like I’m doing, Michael? I’m getting dressed,” said Hermione.
“Where are you going?” asked Michael.
“I don’t know,” said Hermione. “But I’d rather be anywhere but here right now.”
Hermione grabbed her purse and walked toward the door. As she pulled it open, Michael closed it.
“You’re not going anywhere, Hermione,” said Michael, standing between Hermione and the door.
Hermione reached for the doorknob once again and this time Michael grabbed her wrist.
“You can’t do that anymore,” he said.
“Let me go, Michael,” said Hermione nervously.
“You think you can keep manipulating me?” continued Michael, each time forcing Hermione’s wrist more and more. “You can’t throw a fit anytime you please…”
“Michael…” said Hermione, clearly shaken. “The baby… Let me go…”
“Stop blowing things out of proportion. I’m getting tired of it“”
“Michael! Please!” cried Hermione, tears coming out without warning. “Let me go! You’re going to break my wrist!”
Michael let Hermione go, but still kept his position in front of the door. Hermione stumbled back a bit. She steadied herself and reached inside her bag, not taking her eyes off her husband. She took out her wand and pointed it directly at him.
“Get out of the way,” she said. “I mean it.” She noticed her hand was shaking and so were her legs.
Michael, taken aback, grabbed the door handle and opened the door.
Hermione walked out of the room as fast as she could without running, not daring to glance at Michael as she did, thinking it would set him off. Once out, she didn’t even wait for the elevator: she took the stairs.
When she got out of the hotel, panting after practically running down the stairs, Hermione started walking towards the Spanish Steps. She broke down as she sat down in front of the Trinità dei Monti. Here she was crying her eyes out in one of the most romantic, most beautiful cities in the entire world. She was terrified. Utterly and undoubtedly terrified. She didn’t know what she would do now. People started staring at her after a while. When she started walking again and she caught a glimpse of herself in front of a window display, she understood exactly why.
Her hair was all over the place after the mid-day romp with Michael; her satin blouse was all wrinkled; and her makeup, namely her mascara, was smudged all over her face.
Hermione walked inside a restaurant to use the restrooms. She washed her face, put her sunglasses on, and kept on walking.
By the time the sun had gone down and Rome’s partygoers started making their way into nightclubs, Hermione was still walking.
Now she was sitting in front of the Colosseum, wondering what the hell had happened to her life and when had her husband turned into such a bi-polar control freak. It was getting chilly, and she was wondering whether she should go back to the hotel, when she felt someone tap her shoulder. She almost jumped out of her skin.
“Scusi, signora“ Hermione?”
“Viktor? What the… How did you… What on earth are you doing here?”
“I vos going to ask the same,” said Viktor Krum, a bit confused.
“I’m here for my honeymoon,” said Hermione, getting up and giving Viktor a kiss on the cheek and a hug. “You speak Italian?”
“Only a bit. I have heard about the vedding,” said Viktor. “Congratulations.”
Hermione smiled feebly. “What are you doing here?” she asked again.
“I am vith the team,” said Viktor, “Ve are playing vith Italy.”
“That’s such a weird coincidence,” said Hermione, looking at Viktor in fascination. “How did you find me?”
“I vos not planning to,” Viktor admitted. “I vos coming from the Forum and I vos going to tell you that a lady vith such an expensive purse should not be sitting here alone, especially at night.”
“How do you know this is an expensive purse?” asked Hermione, smirking.
“My girlfriend has one,” replied Viktor, laughing. “Vhy are you sitting here alone?”
“I… Well, Michael and I…”
“Say no more,” said Viktor. “I understand.” He hesitated before adding, “Do you vant me to take you back?”
“Would that be too much trouble?” asked Hermione timidly.
“Not at all. Come.”
Viktor hailed a taxi and hopped in with Hermione. She gave the driver the hotel’s address and within minutes, they were standing on the Piazza de Spagna.
“Would you like to get a cup of tea?” asked Hermione. “They must have some around here somewhere.”
“You British girls and your tea,” said Viktor, laughing.
They walked into a restaurant next to the Hermès boutique and by the time they sat down at the table, Hermione was already feeling better.
“How have you been?” she asked.
“It has been great,” said Viktor. “I bought a house in London.”
“I heard! By the way, how is that German supermodel girlfriend of yours?” asked Hermione, grinning.
Viktor raised his eyebrows.
“What?” asked Hermione innocently. “Fine, maybe I read Witch Weekly sometimes…”
“You read Vitch Veekly?” asked Viktor.
“Well, I have to keep up with everything they say about me,” said Hermione.
“I have been following you through the magazines,” said Viktor, laughing. “Fascinating things, they say.”
“Well, you know as well as I do that most of it is not true,” said Hermione. “But you are Stephanie Tasch’s boyfriend, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” said Krum. “She’s a handful.”
Hermione laughed.
They spent about an hour talking and laughing, catching up, just until Viktor realized he had to get back to his hotel.
“It’s been great talking to you,” said Hermione, giving Viktor a hug.
“You too,” said Viktor, handing her a piece of paper. “Here is my address. Anything you need… You know.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Thank you,” said Viktor. “And please say ‘hello’ to Harry for me.”
As Hermione walked towards the penthouse’s door, she started wondering whether she should go in or not. She decided to open the door before she changed her mind.
To her great surprise, Michael wasn’t there.
She looked everywhere; there was no trace of her husband. Suitcases were still packed; everything was in its place. However, there was no Michael Sandford.
After deciding she didn’t care, Hermione took a long bath in the enormous tub in the bathroom and went to bed. It wasn’t until 4:30 a.m. that she heard the door open.
Michael sat down on the bed, took off his shirt, and lay down next to his wife.
The next morning, Michael got up early, went to get the paper, and got back into bed.
“Hermione?” he whispered.
She pretended to be asleep.
Needless to say, this honeymoon was definitely over.
Hermione tried to avoid Michael for the rest of the week. He also avoided her. Anything they had to say, they tried to say in as little words as possible, and sometimes it would be things like, “Where are you going today?” Then the other would reply, “I don’t know.”
On March 31, Michael and Hermione packed their bags finally to depart to London.
“We’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” said Michael, looking at his watch.
“Fine, let me get my things,” replied Hermione dryly.
Michael and Hermione arrived to Fiumicino International Airport just in time to catch their flight. They sat on their first class seats quietly “Hermione opened a book- and they did not utter a single word to each other until they got to baggage claim in Heathrow Airport.
“Who’s picking us up?” asked Hermione.
“Beth said she would send a car,” replied Michael.
After picking up their luggage, Michael and Hermione walked silently outside to look for the car and get home as soon as possible. Sure enough, Hugo was waiting for them with the company’s Mercedes ready.
The ride home was uneventful. It was raining when they got to Hogsmeade, and after saying ‘hi’ to Anne, Hermione walked upstairs without even glancing at Michael.
The next morning Hermione woke up relatively early after a very good night’s sleep. Michael had not slept next to her.
She went downstairs to the kitchen and fixed herself an omelette. Then she sat down at the dining room table. The numerous newspapers lying on the table indicated that Michael was already up and running.
Hermione looked at the Daily Prophet’s front page, and when she realized what the cover story was about, she almost choked on her omelette.
There was a huge photograph of her and Viktor Krum hugging in front of the Colosseum. The headline read: Krum Offers a Shoulder to Cry On.
“Hello,” said Anne, coming into the dining room.
Hermione was still staring at the Prophet’s front page.
“Hermione? Is everything alright?”
“Have you seen this?” said Hermione in utter disbelief.
“What? Have I seen“” Anne stopped abruptly as her eyes lay on the newspaper’s front page. “Oh, dear God…”
“I am going to kill those people!” said Hermione.
“When was that?” asked Anne.
“It was in Rome…”
“Obviously,” said Anne.
“At the beginning of the week,” finished Hermione.
“I don’t know what to say…” said Anne.
“Merlin… Just wait until my mother-in-law sees it,” said Hermione.
“Can I get you anything? A Calming Draught, perhaps?”
“I… I’m not quite…”
“Tea! That’s it!” Anne exited the dining room quickly.
Against her better judgement, Hermione began reading.
Krum Offers a Shoulder to Cry On
By Megan Wickham
Special Correspondent
It seems married life has not suited Hermione Sandford, née Granger.
While on her extravagant honeymoon through Europe, it was obvious that the new Mrs. Michael Sandford has had a little difficulty adjusting to her new life. Sources said she spent most of her first afternoon in Italy crying and wandering around Rome’s beautiful streets. It wasn’t until she spent a bit of time contemplating the Colosseum that we noticed she was waiting for none other than her ex, Bulgarian Quidditch player Viktor Krum, current boyfriend of German supermodel Stephanie Tasch (the same model that has been keeping Muggle runways hot this season.)
Sandford and Krum cuddled and kissed under the stars and then hopped into a private car that took them to a very romantic “ristorante” in Via dei Condotti. Turn to page 6…
Hermione quickly turned to page 6. What she saw next was not a pretty sight.
There were loads of pictures of her spread all over pages six and seven. There was even a timeline, where they depicted the “atmosphere” in each and every location she had visited with Michael over the past weeks. It seemed that they had been watched 24/7 over the last month or so. The timeline started with them holding hands while walking through La Gran Via in Madrid, and finished with a few pictures of them coming out of Heathrow and getting into the company’s black Mercedes Benz. Even pictures of Hermione crying in front of the Trinità dei Monti made their way into the newspaper. There were also a few pictures of her touring Rome on her own, and other pictures of Michael; in most of them, he was at a bar, drinking alone.
Hermione was startled when the phone rang suddenly. She got up and picked it up quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hermione!” said Beth, a little too cheerful. “How are you?”
“You saw it, didn’t you?” said Hermione.
“Sweetheart, I already have my people working on it,” said Beth.
“People? What people?” asked Hermione.
“Didn’t I tell you? I got an assistant,” said Beth. “She helps me with my charity things… Now she’s working with my lawyers to see what they can do about this… situation.”
“Thanks, Beth,” said Hermione.
“I know what it’s like,” said Beth. “This is no problem at all. Now, don’t get stressed about this. The fact that they decided to dedicate almost an entire edition of the paper is… nothing important.”
“They had to follow me,” said Hermione. “It’s amazing that I didn’t notice. Moreover, who told them where we were going? Who knew?”
“Besides the family, I suppose Michael left word at the office,” said Beth.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” said Hermione, her voice threatening to break.
“They do this all the time,” said Beth. “But please… try to stay as calm as possible. Remember the baby. Why don’t you visit Harry and Ginny? I know they miss you.”
“Yeah… I think I’ll go to London today. I miss them too. I want to meet the triplets.”
“Well, tell them ‘congratulations’ for me.”
“I’ll introduce you properly once everything settles down,” said Hermione.
“I would love that,” said Beth. “I have to go now… Charlotte is crying.”
“Bye,” said Hermione. “Thank you, Beth.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Beth.
Hermione walked upstairs as fast as she could. She took a quick shower and headed for the closet. It wasn’t until she tried to get into her jeans that she noticed she could not wear them anymore.
“Oh, Merlin… This can’t be happening.”
She picked a pretty sundress and put it on.
“Anne…” Hermione yelled. “Could you help me up here?”
“What is it?” asked Anne, appearing at the closet’s door.
“Would you zip me up?”
Anne tried to zip Hermione’s dress up, but that seemed like an impossible task.
“I think you need to get a new wardrobe,” Anne told Hermione.
That made Hermione remember that she had a batch of new clothes still packed in her suitcases. She opened the smallest suitcase and took out a short breezy blue dress. The dress had an empire waist, so it fit Hermione perfectly.
“Good morning,” said Harry softly, walking into the triplets’ room.
“Hi,” replied Ginny, who was sitting on the rocking chair, feeding Becky.
“How are you feeling?”
“Happy,” replied Ginny simply, smiling broadly.
Harry could not help to grin.
“Do you want anything?” he asked.
“Orange juice would be lovely,” said Ginny, laughing lightly.
“Why are you laughing?” asked Harry.
“You’ve got such a silly grin on your face, I wish I had a mirror,” said Ginny.
Harry laughed as he exited the room and went downstairs.
When he got to the kitchen, he opened a carton, and just as he was about to pour some of the liquid into a glass, the owl that delivered the Daily Prophet appeared at the window.
He opened the window to let the owl in, grabbed the paper, and once he took a glance at today’s front cover, he literally froze.
The owl pinched Harry lightly, bringing him back. He paid the owl seven Knuts and the owl happily flew away.
This cannot be happening, he thought. This isn’t happening.
Harry sat down on top of the kitchen counter and began reading. It was incredible that one of his best friends was finding herself in the same position he had been in so many times.
“Harry Potter!” barked Ginny. “What the bloody hell are you doing sitting on my kitchen counters? Get off! And you better not be drinking milk out of the bloody carton again!”
Harry just stared at his wife still trying to digest what he had just read.
“There’s something wrong, isn’t it?” said Ginny seriously, realizing that her rant had not left Harry with his usual deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. She walked over to his side and said, “Is it bad?”
Harry simply handed over the paper.
“She’s back,” he said.
Ginny gasped.
“It’s the whole front page, Harry,” she said breathlessly.
“There’s more inside,” said Harry.
“How did they… I mean… How could they…” Ginny was speechless. “These people…”
“They do this to sell papers, Ginny,” said Harry gloomily.
“Harry… They’re implying she’s having an affair…” said Ginny, her eyes welling up. “As if she were capable of doing such a thing… She doesn’t deserve this. No one does.”
“I know,” replied Harry quietly. He got up and started opening drawers, as if looking for something.
“What are you looking for?” asked Ginny.
“I need parchment… and I need a quill,” said Harry.
“What for?” asked Ginny.
“I’m not letting them do this anymore,” said Harry. “I’ve had enough. This is supposed to be a newspaper, not a tabloid or an entertainment magazine. And if Hermione is, in fact, having trouble in her marriage, or even if she were having an affair, that doesn’t concern anyone but her.”
“So you’re going to send a letter to the editor?”
“I’ll also write to the Ministry. There has to be a way to stop these people. And I’m not sending a letter. I’m sending a Howler.”
By ten o’clock Hermione was on her way to London. She took Michael’s car and stopped by Harrods, which was busting with people, to buy the babies’ presents. After that, she drove across the city until entering Penny Lane. She parked the car right in front of Harry and Ginny’s home, number 100.
100 Penny Lane was beautiful. Ginny had planted numerous kinds of flowers in the front garden, giving the house an air of hominess Michael’s house didn’t have, and that made Hermione feel welcome every time she visited the Potters. The house had three stories, and Harry had remodelled the basement to turn it into two spacious rooms, giving them enough rooms to accommodate the whole Weasley family at once. It was a house worthy of Elizabeth Sandford; beautiful inside and out. Indoors, there was an impressive winding staircase and Ginny had decorated every single room elegantly.
Hermione got out of the car with a bit of difficulty. She walked towards the door carrying the two large shopping bags from Harrods.
She heard commotion inside the house as she knocked the door. Someone opened the door quickly and it was not who she expected it to be.
“Molly!” exclaimed Hermione.
“Hermione! What are you doing here?” asked Molly, a bit disoriented.
That was definitely not what Hermione was expecting to hear.
“Oh,” said Hermione, startled, noticing there was a gathering of people inside the house. “I’m so sorry… I know I didn’t call, but… Did I come at a bad time? I can come back later if you want.”
“Oh no, Hermione,” said Molly, realizing her behaviour was being misunderstood, “I’m so happy you’re here! I just wasn’t expecting you. We thought… Er… That you still had a month left in your honeymoon.”
“Oh, we decided to cut it short,” said Hermione. “Michael had to work, too, so…”
“Well, come in, dear!” exclaimed Molly, giving Hermione a hug. “We’ve missed you!”
“Are you celebrating?” asked Hermione, walking into the house.
“Yes! The boys are so happy. It was a surprise…” said Molly.
“I’m sorry?” said Hermione, confused.
“Fred and George! Harry and Ginny decided to throw them a surprise birthday party!” said Molly brightly, hanging Hermione’s jacket in the cupboard under the stairs. “It was so kind of them… No one was expecting this, since they have the triplets to think about now…”
April 1st. The twins’ birthday, Hermione immediately remembered. How could I have forgotten?
“Hermione, dear,” said Molly, a concerned expression taking over her features, “what happened to your wrist?”
“Oh! I…” Hermione wasn’t planning in taking off her jacket. “Minor accident. I went skating with Michael…”
“I think Ginny has some Bruise Healing Paste in the kitchen,” said Molly.
After dabbing a bit of Bruise Healing Paste on her wrist, and cursing herself for not thinking about that before, Hermione followed Molly into the back garden, and the first one to see her was Harry, who had been talking to Arthur.
His face lit up the minute he saw her.
“Hermione! You’re back!” exclaimed Harry, making his way quickly across the yard and hugging Hermione tightly.
“Oh, Harry!” said Hermione. “It feels like it’s been ages!”
“It really does,” said Harry sincerely. “You look so… different!”
“I look so fat,” Hermione corrected.
“No, you don’t,” said Harry. “You have that glow.”
“Thank you,” said Hermione, blushing. “Hi, everybody.”
The rest of the people watching Harry and Hermione’s display “Arthur, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, and Fleur“ started chattering all at once.
“You look lovely!”
“You’re showing already!”
“How’s the dog?” (This from George.)
“Pardon him; he meant ‘the husband’.” (This from Fred.)
“Fred! George!” barked Molly.
Hermione glared at the twins.
“If it weren’t for your birthday…” she said.
“Don’t listen to them,” said Bill. “The fact that they are turning a year older doesn’t mean that they’re actually growing up.”
Hermione smiled.
“Ginny’s upstairs,” Harry told Hermione. “She’s been dying to see you.”
As Harry pushed open the double doors to the triplets’ room, Hermione gasped.
The room was beautiful. Painted in light yellow, it had a serene atmosphere. There were three identical, hand-painted cribs and many, many toys lying around. Ginny was sitting on the floor next to Angelina, Angie, Matthew, Ryan, and Philip. They were surrounded by three little rocker chairs“ one pink, the other two blue.
“Oh my gosh…” said Ginny softly, getting up from the floor. “You’re here!”
“Ginny! You look so pretty!” exclaimed Hermione. She was surprised to see Ginny had lost considerable weight. She made weight loss after pregnancy look extremely easy.
“You look pregnant already,” said Ginny, laughing.
“I know! It feels weird,” said Hermione.
“The glow… it suits you,” said Ginny.
“Thank you,” replied Hermione.
“Hermione!” exclaimed Philip, getting up from the floor and running towards Hermione.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, giving him a hug and a kiss.
“What about us?” asked Angie, now standing behind Philip, next to her brothers.
“I’ve missed all of you,” said Hermione. “Hi, Angelina,” she added, noticing her friend laughing in the background.
“Well, Hermione,” interrupted Harry, beaming, “there are a few people you need to meet.”
“I believe I do,” said Hermione, walking toward the little rocker chairs.
Ginny bent over the pink rocker chair to pick up one of the babies.
“This is Becky,” she said, handing Hermione a raven-haired girl that stared back at her with big, brown eyes. A couple of seconds went by before Becky flashed Hermione a hint of a smile.
“Oh, Ginny,” gushed Hermione. “She’s perfect. And this hair… Harry, you cannot deny this is your daughter.”
“And this little man over here,” said Harry, holding a blue bundle in his arms, “is Henry.”
Hermione looked at the baby in Harry’s arms and just smiled. Henry was perfect as well; hair as dark as his sister’s and eyes just as brown. His hair was sticking out in all directions. He had his little hand wrapped around Harry’s index finger, trying to get it into his mouth.
“Last but certainly not least,” said Ginny, holding another blue bundle, “this is Ron.”
“What a nice name,” said Hermione, smiling at Harry and Ginny.
To Hermione, Ronald looked exactly like Henry.
“Are they identical?” asked Hermione. “How can you tell Henry and Ron apart?”
“That’s easy,” said Ginny. “Ron sleeps most of the time, and Henry is always awake. Hence the dark, dark circles around my eyes.”
Hermione laughed.
“Let’s go downstairs,” said Ginny. “I want to show you the babies’ first pictures.”
“Let’s go darlings,” Angelina told the kids, going out of the room and leading the way downstairs.
“Before I forget,” said Hermione, “those bags over there have a few things for the babies.”
“Hermione! You shouldn’t have!” exclaimed Ginny, putting Ron in his crib and grabbing one of the olive green bags next to the door. She sat down on a rocking chair and opened one of the beautifully wrapped presents. She gasped when she took out a soft blue cashmere blanket that had Henry’s initials embroidered on the corner.
“Hermione… This is…”
“Ron has a matching one with his initials and Becky has a pink one with her initials,” said Hermione.
“You really shouldn’t have done this,” said Ginny seriously.
“But we wanted to,” replied Hermione. “Michael and I wanted to.”
“Thank you,” said Harry earnestly. “They’re…”
“They’re beautiful,” said Ginny.
Hermione simply smiled. “Let’s go downstairs. Do we take the babies?”
“Yeah,” said Ginny.
As they all went downstairs, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione noticed that things were abnormally quiet.
“What?” asked Ginny jokingly, approaching the living room. “Did everyone leave?”
Then she stopped abruptly in the middle of the entrance to the sitting room.
“What is it, Ginny?” asked Harry. Then he also stopped abruptly next to Ginny.
Then Hermione saw it, as she stepped quietly behind Harry.
Ron was sitting on a chair in front of the fireplace with a pretty blonde girl sitting on his lap.
Everybody was sitting uncomfortably in their chair listening to Ron talk about his new job in the Ministry’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Even Fred and George were speechless.
“Ginny!” exclaimed Ron, only noticing Ginny standing in front of him. “Is that Ron?”
“Er… Who’s she?” asked Ginny, attempting to smile.
“Oh, Ginevra,” muttered Molly under her breath, shielding her face with her hands.
“I’m so sorry…” Ginny told the girl. “I just… I wasn’t expecting to see anyone sitting on my brother’s lap.”
“Ginny, don’t you remember me?” asked the blonde girl in a sweet voice.
Hermione did remember who she was. That was Ernie Macmillan’s little sister, Claudia, who had been on Ginny’s same year at Hogwarts, in Ravenclaw.
“Claudia?” asked Ginny, a hint of disgust in her voice.
“How are you!?” asked Claudia, getting up to give Ginny a kiss. “You look so beautiful! Ronnie said you just had triplets!”
“Ronnie?” hissed Ginny, glaring at her brother.
“I asked Claudia to come over with me to meet the family,” said Ron, his ears turning pink.
“Oh, well, Ron never mentioned you, but how nice that you could join us for our little gathering,” said Ginny, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“So,” said Harry, “did you introduce her to everybody, Ron?”
“Yes. Claudia,” said Ron, “I’m sure you remember Harry…”
“Of course,” said Claudia politely. “How nice to see you again,” she told Harry.
“Nice to see you, too,” replied Harry. “Er, how’s Ernie?”
“He’s fine, thank you,” said Claudia.
“Where’s baby number three?” asked Ron, taking Henry from Harry’s arms. “Claudia, when you see my niece you will die,” he added, grinning.
“Becky is…”
“I have her right here,” said Hermione, coming out of her “hiding” spot behind Harry.
Ron’s expression was priceless. It’s not necessary to say that the grin plastered across Ron’s face a second ago was nowhere to be found now.
“Hermione,” Ron managed to say in an even tone.
“Hi Ron,” said Hermione quietly.
“You know what?” said George. “I’m going to get a Butterbeer. Anyone else?”
Everyone else in the living room, except Arthur, got up from his or her place talking all at once. Molly headed into the kitchen, followed by Charlie, Angelina, Fred, and George, and Fleur and Bill went outside with the kids. Arthur stayed in his place reading the paper.
“What are you doing here?” Ron asked Hermione.
“She can come whenever she wants, Ron,” snapped Ginny.
“I didn’t mean it that way, Ginny,” Ron snapped back.
“I just came to see the triplets,” said Hermione.
Claudia cleared her throat.
“Oh, er, Claudia, this is“”
“Oh, Ronnie, I know who she is,” hissed Claudia. “Hi! I’m Claudia Macmillan. I’m“”
“Ernie’s little sister,” Hermione finished for her, smiling weakly. “I remember you. You look so different, though.”
“Yes,” said Ginny, “because the last time I saw you “”
“Ginevra!” shrieked Molly from the kitchen. “Get in here!”
“Excuse me,” said Ginny.
“Oh, Ronnie! Look at her!” gushed Claudia, looking at Becky. “She’s absolutely adorable!”
Ron remained silent.
“Ronnie! Are you here or in Uranus?” asked Claudia, laughing.
“Hermione, you look tired,” said Angelina, coming out of the kitchen. “Let me have Becky.”
Hermione handed Becky to Angelina without exchanging a word.
“Oh, and Harry,” added Angelina, nervously, “Ginny wants to see you in the kitchen.”
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back,” said Harry, looking at Hermione apologetically. “And I think I’m going to take Henry with me,” he added, going back and taking the baby out of Ron’s arms.
“I think I’m going to head home,” said Hermione. “I’m going to get my bag.”
Hermione headed upstairs. She went into the triplets’ room and grabbed her purse.
She had to get out of there. Otherwise, she would“
“We need to talk,” said Ron, appearing at the door.
“What about?” asked Hermione breathlessly, swallowing hard.
“I… I want to apologize,” said Ron, with great difficulty. “I should have never done what I did. To put you in that position… It wasn’t fair.”
“It’s… You don’t… It’s fine, Ron,” said Hermione.
Ron nodded.
“You look nice,” he added, looking uncomfortable.
“Thank you,” replied Hermione quietly. “I better go. Besides, you don’t want to keep your girlfriend waiting,” she added, hoping Ron would correct her.
He did no such thing. He just nodded and went downstairs.
Hermione tried to hold back her tears. Then she just stood there for a minute or two wondering why she had to hold back tears.
She broke up with Ron. She was supposed to feel happy. She was a newlywed. She was pregnant. Why did it feel like her life was crumbling to pieces? Why did she miss Ron so much? Why did she feel jealous of Claudia? Ron was moving on, just as she had. It was only fair that he did. But had she moved on?
“Get her out of here,” said Ginny.
“Are you serious?” asked Harry incredulously, handing Henry to Molly.
“You bet I am,” said Ginny furiously. “I want Claudia out of my house, now.”
“What do you expect him to do?” asked Fred seriously. “He can’t tell Ron to kick her out.”
“Well if Harry can’t,” said Ginny, getting up from her chair, “I most certainly will.”
“Oh no, you won’t,” said Charlie, standing right in front of her.
“Don’t you dare, Ginevra,” said Molly. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but to throw her out of here would be going too far.”
“You know she’s right, Ginny,” said Harry.
“Has anyone talked to Hermione?” asked Charlie.
“No, we used sign language,” said George.
“Shut up,” said Charlie. “You know I’m talking about this morning’s headlines.”
“I can’t believe Ron would do this,” said Ginny, still talking about the uncomfortable “Claudia” situation.
“Why are you so upset, Ginny?” asked Fred. “Because Hermione saw their public display of affection?”
“No!” said Ginny. “It’s because Ron brings a girl without telling anyone and then he expects us to stand a public display of affection!”
Then Becky started crying.
“Look what you did!” exclaimed Molly.
“Ginny, if you don’t lower your voice Claudia will hear you,” said Harry, going over to where Angelina was sitting and taking Becky off her arms.
“I hope she does,” muttered Ginny under her breath. “All of you know that what Ron is doing is out of line.”
“Yes, dating,” said Fred. “What an abomination.”
“Ginny,” said Molly softly, “we all know what you are going through right now. We all feel the same way you do. However, he’s moving on. Just like Hermione did.”
“I’m off,” said Hermione, appearing suddenly at the door.
“So quickly?” asked Ginny.
“Do you really expect me to stick around?” asked Hermione, laughing.
“We need to talk,” said Ginny. “You can’t go yet.”
“Oh, I definitely have an idea of what you want to talk to me about,” said Hermione. “I know you’re all probably worried about my state after this morning’s beautiful array of pictures in the Prophet.”
“I’m really sorry,” said Charlie.
“Don’t worry,” said Hermione dismissively. “I’ll be fine. I have to get used to this, don’t I? And on the other sensitive matter, hopefully, there will come a time when Ron and I are not awkward around each other anymore.”