Chapter Text
A strange haze held over this particular morning, much to Hermione’s distaste. She took another sip out of her mug before setting it down on the counter. The longer she stared out the Burrow’s window the more she realized how dreary the backyard had become. The kids had recently taken to practicing herbology spells, so that now the garden was overtaken by vines, weeds and various grasses. What once was fresh and inviting was now thorny and dying. The chairs outside had begun to rust due to a special enchanted rain Rose had tried earlier in the week. Strange rustling came from unwelcome-looking shrubbery below the window. She smirked and gently shook her head, taking another sip. Surely, Harry’s godson Teddy had let out another strange creature into the yard.
She had asked Ron to encourage them all to rectify what was once her beautiful garden, but she presumed he hadn’t gotten to that yet. He was away now on a trip with his brother Charlie, who needed an extra set of hands (and an extra wand) for his latest dragon discovery expedition. Ron had always wanted to go along ever since he was little—so how could she object? But watching the children alone this week in particular had been overwhelming. She had just gotten an owl earlier in the week letting her know that the eggs the brothers had discovered weren’t like any other recorded previously so Ron would have to stay and help out a week longer than originally planned. Normally, she wouldn’t mind but the timing wasn’t ideal. As Hermione went up the ranks in the Ministry, more responsibility befell her—which she embraced wholeheartedly. But with school starting up for her children, it seemed a daunting task to get them ready for the term while also starting up such a large project at work.
The Ministry had set her in charge of investigating rumors of illegal trafficking of House Elves happening still under her department's nose. If these rumors were true, that would mean that the culprits had magic advanced enough to evade their usual detective systems. The file folder was a few inches away from her hand, she slowly drew it towards herself and let out another sigh. Ordinarily she would set up an elite team to take on such a project but because this operation undermined all that she had worked for in the last ten years she had made it her personal mission. She was hoping that the information inside had changed, that the suspects would be strangers to her and she could pursue without hesitance. She shut her eyes and opened up the flap. But she couldn’t change what the investigation had already led to. She sighed again as she looked upon a moving image of Draco Malfoy turning up the collar of his coat against the cold and turning down a dark alleyway. Her mouth puckered into a straight line. Of course he would never change. Whatever sympathy she may have had for him throughout the years had evaporated. She couldn’t help but wonder what devious plot made him go to Knockturn Alley that particular day his photo was captured.
“Mum?” Hugo called softly from behind his mother. Hermione quickly licked her lips, shut the file and turned around realizing he may have been calling her name for quite some time.
“Sorry, love. What is it? Is it time for breakfast already?” Hermione glanced up at the clock they had inherited from her in-laws. It was a muggle habit to look at the face of a clock and expect to see time. Instead she saw Ron’s spoon still pointed to somewhere that wasn’t home.
“Don’t we still have to go and pick up Rose's books today?” The young boy asked timidly. All of the tasks Hermione would normally have done months in advance had fallen to this dreaded week.
“Oh! Yes, of course. Is your sister up? Rose!” she called. She began scrambling around the kitchen getting together all the lists they would need, pouring Hugo some tea, finding their jackets for the day, and tucking away the folder into her desk in the other room.
By the time they reached Diagon Alley it was full of all the last-minute Hogwarts shoppers.
“This is why we should’ve gone WEEKS ago!” Rose emphasized, crossing her arms and throwing dirty looks at the masses. She, like her mother, hated procrastination.
Hermione was flustered. The case had been keeping her up at night and now had distracted her for too long this morning. The sun still hadn’t come out and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. The breeze was unforgivingly cold and so she sent Rose and Hugo over to see their Uncle George who would presumably be in Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes today, and who would hopefully offer them some warmth and treats. She was barely balancing their stacks of books, reaching for twine to tie them up she knew she had in her coat pocket. A strong wind whipped her hair around her face and someone bracing the wind when someone bumped hard into her shoulder, knocking her off balance. All the beautiful books she had just purchased were mixed up and strewn on the ground around her. She hoped too many pages weren’t bent. She crouched down to begin to straighten them out, and while most figures in coats passed her by on this harsh day, one person bent down and stacked the books remaining beside her.
“Thank you so much” Hermione whispered, exacerbated. “I’ve had sort of a crazy day...” Her eyes met the friendly strangers as she took the stack of books from his hand. Her mouth remained agape but couldn’t quite finish her thought. She hadn’t expected to see him in this fashion.
“Draco…” she breathed briefly, before realizing her pause “that’s quite alright—I’ve got it all now thank you.” She speedily gathered up all of her belongings and straightened herself upwards. She proudly stuck her chin up as she moved the hair out of her face and adjusted her coat. Draco didn’t say anything in response, his face had been expressionless throughout their interaction. He simply nodded and backed away, his son Scorpius approaching behind him. Draco gestured his son into the bookstore and he followed behind him into the doorway, stopping briefly to lift his hand as if to say goodbye to her. Hermione stood puzzled, her eyebrows furrowing in embarrassment. She pressed forward towards the other shops, trying to put his face out of her mind for the second time that day.