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Hermione was entering platform 9 ¾ with a bushy haired 12-year-old, clutching her hand tightly, and a big wooden trunk following them a few inches above the ground. Once they passed the barrier Hermione led her daughter away from the entry point to avoid an unwanted encounter with a family of owls, that were accompanied by a family of wizards, entering the platform right behind them. She was looking around searching for her daughter’s father when the girl stopped and tugged at her hand.
“Mommy?” she said in a low voice.
“Yes sweetie?” Hermione paused the search and looked at her girl.
“You are not expecting me to brew Polyjuice in a bathroom this year, are you?”
“Oh Rosie, of course not,” Hermione kneeled beside her girl and gave her a big hug. “Is that what’s been bothering you all week?” Rose nodded, an apologetic smile gracing her lips. “I do not expect the chamber of secrets to reopen this year either, or a basilisk to roam the corridors of Hogwarts.”
“Because you and daddy took care of it?”
“Well, it was mostly Uncle Harry. I’m afraid your father has been more of a hampering presence that year. Speaking of the chosen devil…” Hermione spotted Harry in the crowd and waved at him. “Let’s go say hello”.
Rose narrowed her eyes towards the newsstand Hermione was pointing at. Harry was waving back at the girls and Rose sprinted towards him and jumped to his arms. Hermione and the trunk soon followed suit.
“Scoot over little girl, mommy also wants some Potter love.” Harry smiled and gave Hermione a warm hug.
“Where are James and Al?” Rose asked Harry after making sure they were not hiding behind their father's back. She completed her search by awkwardly waving her arms in the air, making sure no one is hiding under an invisibility cloak. She’s not dumb, she knows the stories.
“I have absolutely no idea,” Harry said, not even bothering to look around for his boys. “I’ll give you a chocolate frog if you find them.”
“No Harry,” Hermione said irritably, “now she’ll just run around and- STAY AWAY FROM THE TRACKS!”
“She’ll be fine,” Harry dismissed and shoved the Prophet in front of Hermione’s face. “So, what do you say about the new dangerous potions legislation?”
“And what legislation would that be?” Hermione asked innocently, giving up on the attempt to track Rose, a huge smile splitting her face. “The one requiring two Potion Masters to sign off any dose? That legislation?”
“How did you two manage to pull it off?” Harry was impressed.
“Our names still hold some weight in the wizarding world,” Hermione said with a wink. “But joke aside, it really is a good law. There are so many sub-par potions circling around. You have to see those nasty cases in St. Mungo’s. There’s a poor guy stuck in his werewolf form, the sweetest little house elf with her hands disfigured after using a bad cleaning potion, and there were two suspects that got their heads all messed up by a bad batch of Veritaserum given to them by aurors.” She gave Harry a meaningful look.
“I’m sorry that happened,” Harry said sincerely. “I’m sure they didn’t know it was bad.”
“And that would be the next law we’ll work on, once this one passes and we manage to fill all open positions in the store.” Hermione said. “Clear regulations on how to handle inventory of said dangerous potions.”
“Still out to save the world.” Harry said with a smile. “So how is working together, erm, working out for you than?” Harry asked, nodding towards the benches down the platform, where one Severus Snape was sitting. Without his teaching robes he no longer resembled an overgrown bat, but he was still mightily commanding in his tailor-made frock coat and dragon hide boots. He was quietly talking to a lean teenage girl that, as all teenage girls, did not seem too content with the lecture her father was giving her. She was sitting rigidly, arms crossed, long black hair falling at the side of her pouty face.
“Very good actually,” Hermione said, smiling at the sight. “It indeed had the potential to be disastrous, but Severus is only mildly condescending, and business is booming.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear.” Harry said and rested his arm on Hermione’s shoulder. “Where is Ron?”
“I have no idea,” Hermione started searching the crowd again. “He was supposed to have an interview this morning and should have been here already. Merlin knows what he still has to talk about. Now swallow your pride and come say hello to Severus.”
They started walking towards the benches, Hermione still scanning the platform when she sent Rose’s trunk to the train. She did not find Ron, but she did find her daughter bent down on the ground with a few Gryffindor friends, doing something that was most likely more dangerous than not.
“Probably exploding snap,” Harry offered as they reached Snape’s bench and he saw what caught Hermione’s attention. “Hello Severus,” he said in an official tone he usually kept for the ministry corridors. “Good to see you.”
Severus took Harry’s offered hand and shook it firmly. He would have responded with a form of pleasantry appropriate for the situation if it wasn’t for the loud explosion. All eyes darted towards Rose and her friends. Rose seems to have dropped her wand to the tracks, and two of her friends had their shirts catch fire. Hermione darted forward, wand drawn, but was stopped by Severus grabbing her arm.
“Eileen, could you please go sort that out?” He calmly asked his daughter.
“Sure,” Eileen replied, already standing up and drawing her own wand, “send the Slytherin to fix up Gryffindor mess…”
Harry was very amused by the whole situation until he realized his son was part of the group and seemed to be struggling with his burning shirt. He quickly made his way towards the kids to make sure no permanent damage is done to anyone. As Hermione sat down on the bench next to Severus Harry had already extinguished both fires. The commotion was far from over though. It seemed like the group was now debating who’s cards actually exploded, and who is entitled to the remaining ones. The attempt at a civilized debate was brave, but it regressed quickly to shouting, fist waving, and one failed hex. It resulted in Harry grabbing James’s wand and dragging him away, and Eileen yelling something at the rest of group that at least had the curtesy to seem ashamed.
“How does she always manage to get herself in trouble?” Hermione asked.
“I would refer you to a famous proverb about trees and apples,” Severus answered.
“I was much better at her age,” Hermione claimed indignantly.
“You most certainly were not.”
“Come on, you liked me,” she said lightly, bumping her shoulder with Severus’s. She gave her full attention to the man sitting beside her, seeing that Eileen had the situation under control.
“Not when you were twelve.”
“So, when did you start liking me?”
“Who said I like you now?”
“Common knowledge Severus. ”
“Well then, probably when your shirt started to stretch in the bosom area.”
“Severus!” Hermione scolded.
“You asked.” Severus said unapologetic.
“You pervert!” Hermione said, not unkindly, and smiled at Severus’s raised eyebrow.
“Speaking of,” he said, “Where is Weasley? I was very much looking forward to an enticing conversation with him.”
“Of course, you have. I have no idea where he is. Probably staring at the bosom of some witch. I do hope she’s at least of age.”
“If only you took a slightly different path, you would have been an eligible divorcee by now,” Severus teased.
“I am very happy with my life choices, thank you very much.” Hermione said with finality.
At that moment Eileen was marching back towards them, dragging a less-then-happy Rose behind her.
“The girl is in one piece, un-harmed, and in possession of her wand,” Eileen summarized as she pushed Rose towards Hermione. “And I took the liberty of confiscating everyone’s cards until such time as they stop being damn babies, and are able to handle the distribution themselves.”
“Thank you, Eileen,” Hermione said in a tone attempting to imitate Slytherin propriety and smiled warmly at the girl.
“Eileen,” Severus said, and drew his daughter’s attention back to him.
“Father!” she exclaimed, “I do not need your help in navigating the Slytherin common room. Your face may be stuck to the wall, but you haven’t been there for more than a decade. You have no idea what passes as proper behavior these days, and there is nothing you can contribute. Now can I please be excused until Christmas?”
“I was merely about to say,” Severus said unimpressed, “that anything less than an O in potions, and you might be excused from Christmas as well.”
“Tempting,” Eileen said dryly. “But seeing as I plan to be the youngest Potions Master in modern British history, it would be unwise to tank my grades just to spite the current record holder.”
“Come here you shrew,” Severus said and motioned to his daughter to come closer. She bent over and allowed her father to kiss her forehead. “Have a good term love.” He said, his voice warming up considerably.
“Thank you, father,” Eileen said, with all the grace expected of a Slytherin prefect. Her grace gave way to a more childish demeanor as she turned to Hermione and threw herself to her arms, shoving Rose aside. “Bye mommy!” she said as Hermione held her tightly. “I’ll miss you.”
“Me too my sweet girl,” Hermione said, kissing Eileen’s cheeks. “I’m so proud of you Leeny. Have a good year. And keep an eye on your sister.”
Eileen began keeping an eye on her sister right away by heading towards the Hogwarts Express without another glance back. Rose sat on the bench between her parents and fixed her father with a stare from eyes that were precisely like his own.
“Daddy,” she said, mustering all her Gryffindor courage, “I will not be able to brew Polyjuice this year. And I expect to still be invited to Christmas.” She stated seriously. Severus silently questioned Hermione about the meaning of the dramatic announcement. Hermione silently indicated behind Rose’s back that she has no idea.
“Pumpkin, we will always be delighted to see you home, regardless of the quality of your brewing.”
“But you just told Leeny-“
“Eileen isn’t you, love. She has already decided what her goal would be, and she aspires to be a Potions Master. When you are older, I would expect to see from you the excellence you are capable of in the field of your choice. Be it academic or otherwise. And if, Merlin forbids, you choose to pursue a career in Quidditch, we would encourage you to be excellent at that as well.”
“Would I be expected to fly without a broom?”
“Rosie,” Hermione said softly drawing her daughter’s attention. “The stories you read about us and the war, they don’t paint the whole picture. They tend to overstress the heroics, and completely ignore any unpleasant aspects our lives had. Please don’t try to be us, I would never want that for you. You are an amazing and talented girl, and you will find your own path.”
“But how will I be able to work at the store if I’m shit at potions?”
“If you ever want to work at the store,” Severus said, “and I am far from certain that you will, there are many other tasks beside brewing.”
“You could handle the books,” Hermione suggested, “or tend to the customers. You could do marketing or manage special projects like the one we’re doing with wolfsbane now.”
“So, you are not disappointed with me because I don’t ace potions?”
“Of course not, dear,” Hermione pulled her girl to her arms.
“And I really am always welcome home?”
“Always.” Severus said, drawing Rose’s gaze back to him. “Always,” he said again. “And we will make sure that you would never doubt that again.” Rose smiled happily and gave her daddy a big hug. “Please don’t consider this my approval to get yourself expelled,” Severus added warningly making Rose squeak in his arms.
“Now run along to the train,” Hermione said, giving Rose one last hug. “It will leave soon.”
“Bye!” Rose cried out as she was sprinting towards the tracks waving back to the bench.
“Maybe you should teach her to fly,” Hermione suggested.
“Or maybe we should get her a tattoo,” Severus replied. “It could say Potions disaster, right there, on her arm, to match ours.” Severus pointed at his faded mark.
“Don’t be mean,” Hermione chastised him halfheartedly.
“How can she be so bad at brewing?” Severus mused, still looking at Rose, making sure she was properly boarding the train.
“I guess the apples and the trees don’t always apply,” Hermione shrugged.
They set quietly on the bench for a little while longer after the train already departed, Hermione resting her head on Severus’s shoulder while he was lazily tracing invisible shapes on her thigh. The platform was slowly emptying of the crowd. The newspaper stand already locked and abandoned. Harry, Ginny and little Lily came by to say they are going to get coffee on the Muggle side of Kings Cross, waiting for Ron that should arrive in half an hour.
“Do you want to wait for Weasley?” Severus asked, still inserting poison to his pronunciation of the name.
“Nah,” Hermione said, gathering her purse and starting to lift herself up from their bench. “Train’s gone, he’s officially late. Let’s go home.” She stopped Severus as he was standing up with a serious look, “You do know what’s waiting for us at home, right?”
Severus narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Please don’t let it be some social engagement. Did they invite her parents and he’d forgotten? “No…” he said cautiously, fearing she might get mad.
“Absolute silence,” Hermione whispered as if conveying a magnificent secret.
“Ahh…” Severus sighed as relief washed over him. “Music to my ears,” he said, wrapping his arm around his wife, and directing her over to the apparition point.
“Now that the girls are gone, I think it might be a good time to do some, erm, cleaning” Hermione said in a very suggestive tone.
“Yes…” Severus drawled, lowering his arm to Hermione’s lower back, and giving a little squeeze to her bottom. “I think the living room sofa is in desperate cleaning need.”
“And the kitchen counter,” Hermione added.
“I’m pretty sure I saw some dust on your silly garden hanging chair.”
“Silly?” Hermione was half offended. “You wouldn’t think it’s that silly once I’m done with you mister.”
A sharp eyed witness would have seen Hermione’s shirt being pulled from her skirt right before the apparition popping noises echoed through platform 9¾.