Burning Down the House

Jane set her cup down on the table with a distinct click. 'Side-Along Appartition?' she asked, trying not to be alarmed.

'Yes.'

'And that involves...?' Jane swallowed.

'Oh, you and Dad each hold one of my hands, and I'll do my thing, and we'll be at the Burrow,' Hermione said airily.

Jane looked at Hermione skeptically. 'So one minute, we'll be here, and the next somewhere else?'

'That's about right.'

'Oh.' Jane tried not to look alarmed. In her experience, it just wasn't normal for people to... Disappear like that.

'It's fine, Mum. I've been doing this since I was eighteen on a regular basis. It might feel a bit odd, but it'll be fine.' Hermione watched the uncertainty dance across her mother's face. Jane accepted her magical abilities readily enough, but it made her a bit uncomfortable. She didn't think things should be that easy.

Hermione tried to keep the disappointment from showing. She wanted her parents to get to know the Weasleys better, and vice versa. Hermione sighed. 'Mum, if you don't want to go, it's fine. I just thought...' She shrugged.

Jane saw her daughter's futile attempt to hide her crestfallen expression. 'I want to go, and I'm sure your father does, too,' she said firmly. 'Hermione, do you remember when you received your letter from Hogwarts?'

'Of course I do.'

'Do you remember how you thought it was some sort of elaborate joke? Because you have always been a believer in what you could see or feel? And the idea of magic was something you just had to have faith in?'

'Yes.' Hermione massaged the bridge of her nose. Why did mothers have to remember every thing you did, no matter how silly it was?

'Sometimes, Hermione, you need to have a little faith in your father and me.' Jane's smile took the sting from her words. 'There are more things in heaven and earth, and all that. It just takes some getting used to.'

'Sorry, Mum.' Hermione toyed with her cup.

'So who is going to be at this lunch?'

'Not sure. Usually it's everybody. Well, maybe George and Katie won't be there,' Hermione reflected.

'George is the one that's missing an ear?' Jane was trying to mentally catalogue Hermione's in-laws.

'Yes.'

'And Katie just had twins?'

'In May.'

'Why wouldn't they come?' Jane was a bit confused. She had been under the impression the Weasleys were a rather close-knit family.

'The twins employ the divide and conquer strategy.' Hermione smirked. 'One's up, one's asleep kind of thing. Molly says it's about time George got a taste of his own medicine. But it means some nights they don't get much sleep, so it depends on how the last few nights have gone.'

'Sounds like they're already a handful.'

'They are.' Hermione smiled at the thought of her nephews. Katie swore they already had that mystical twin ability to speak to each other without words.

A shuffling sound at the door tore Hermione's attention from Jane. A tousled head peered into the kitchen, a pair of glasses perched haphazardly on its face. 'Hermione!'

'Dad,' Hermione murmured, before rising to embrace her father.

Richard Granger held his daughter at arm's length. 'You look marvelous, darling.'

'Thanks, Dad.'

'So what brings you out here this morning?'

Hermione settled back into her chair. 'I thought I'd come ask you and Mum to have Sunday lunch with my mad in-laws.'

'Really?' Richard's face lit up with a childlike glee. Hermione had noticed it from time to time, and had never been able to figure out where exactly she had seen that particular expression. It was maddeningly familiar.

Then it hit her.

It was the same look on Arthur's face when he came to their flat or went to visit Harry and Ginny. He was utterly fascinated by all things Muggle. Toasters, torches, the DVD player and television. The year before Harry and Ginny were married, Harry and the Weasley boys took Arthur to see a Muggle film for his birthday. He'd been in raptures for days.

In contrast to Jane, once Richard got over the shock of his only child being a witch, he pestered her with all sorts of questions about Hogwarts, and was disappointed when she came home after her first year and informed him she was not allowed to do magic outside school.

Hermione began to laugh. Deep laughs that left her gasping for breath. Dimly, she realized it bordered on hysterical, but she also realized it had been weeks since she just laughed because something was funny. 'Hermione?' Richard sounded more than a bit concerned.

'I-I-I.' Whatever Hermione was going to say was quickly engulfed in whoops of laughter.

At long last, Hermione laid her head on the table, and panted for air, her stomach muscles aching. Occasional bubbles of giggles seeped to the surface. 'Oh, I'm sorry,' she breathed. 'I just realized who the two of you remind me of.' Hermione sat back in her chair, and regarded her parents, sitting side-by-side, near-identical looks of vague anxiety etched on their faces. 'You're Molly and Arthur.' The looks changed to confusion. Hermione giggled slightly. 'You see, Molly is suspicious of anything Muggle, and Arthur loves it. Just like you're not fond of anything magical and it endlessly fascinates Dad,' she explained to Jane.

'So how are we getting to the Weasleys' place?' Richard looked expectantly at Hermione.

'Side-Along Apparition.'

'What's that?' Richard stole Jane's cup of tea and slurped half of it.

'Here one moment, and poof, there the next,' Jane told him nervously.

'Brilliant!' Richard exclaimed. 'Must be loads easier than trying to fight traffic, eh?'

'Some,' admitted Hermione. 'But I still have to have a license.'

'Like a driving test?' asked Jane.

'Something like that. It's possible to fail, too,' Hermione told them.

'You can fail it?' Richard leaned forward interestedly.

'Oh, yes. You can end up in the wrong place or Splinched...'

'Splinched?' Jane asked faintly.

'Erm...' Hermione cast about wildly for an explanation that wouldn't turn her mother greener than she already was. 'Where things don't quite end up where they started,' she said trailing off as the thought trailed out of her mouth.

'Hermione,' Jane said warningly.

'It's only happened to me once. Back when I was eighteen. And it wasn't even me. It was Ron,' Hermione said defensively.

'Explain,' Jane said shortly. Hermione marveled at how much her mother's voice resembled Minerva's right now.

'It was when we were discovered by those Death Eaters in London. At Grimmauld Place. We had to leave rather quickly, and in my haste to get the three of us out of there, I wasn't concentrating as well as I should have.' Hermione twisted a strand of hair around her finger. 'When we reappeared, part of his arm was missing.' Hermione shrugged. 'It's nothing to get fussed about, really.'

'Nothing to get fussed about?' Jane said weakly. 'Part of his arm was missing!'

'Mum, it's okay. I was able to fix it, good as new,' Hermione said soothingly, in an attempt to assure her mother.

'Oh, come on, Jane,' pleaded Richard. 'How often would we get a chance to do something like this?'

'Please, Mum?'

Jane looked at her husband and daughter's earnestly wide eyes and sighed. She had never been able to deny either of anything when they both turned the puppy-dog eyes on her at the same time. 'Are you certain it's safe?'

'Yes, Mum, it's fine. Feels a bit odd, but it's fine.'

'Right.' Jane reached across the table to cup Hermione's cheek in her hand. 'I suppose I should have a little faith in you, too.' She stood and looked at Richard. 'Go find that football of yours,' she ordered. 'Hermione tells me there will be a lad at lunch who is just as mad about football as you, and needs someone to show him some of their best moves.' Richard grinned at Jane and pushed back from the table and hurried off to the garden shed in the back garden.

Hermione waited until she heard the back door shut, and turned to Jane. 'Mum, could you do something for me?'

'Of course, dear.'

'Don't tell Dad. About the whole baby issue.'

'Why not?'

'You know Dad. He'll bluster about how I'm too young, and how Ron and I shouldn't try to have a child in that flat of ours, how I work too much, or that Ron's job is too dangerous for a child, especially if he brings any of it home.'

'If that's what you want.'

Hermione shrugged. 'I'd like to surprise him. Come over and do something completely silly like call him Granddad or something like that.'

'Poppy.'

'Poppy?'

'For some reason, he wants to be called Poppy, don't ask me why,' Jane said wearily.

'I'll keep that in mind,' Hermione murmured, as the back door slammed open, and Richard's head appeared in the kitchen doorway.

'Could I wear my Man U jersey?' he asked hopefully.

'I'm sure Teddy will love it,' Hermione assured him.

*****

'That was...' Richard fished for the right words.

'Like being stuffed through a hosepipe,' finished Jane. 'Do you ever get used to it?'

'Eventually. Ron still hates it,' Hermione said ruefully. 'Can't say I blame him, though.' Hermione went through the back garden gate and gestured for her parents to go through.

'Why come outside the garden, though?' asked Richard. 'Can't you go into the garden like that?'

'Sure you can. Most Wizarding houses have charms to prevent Apparating directly inside, of course, but Molly and Arthur have charms set up to keep anyone from Apparating directly into the front or back garden, as well. After the war there were so many reporters out there, it was the only way to keep them from just Apparating on the front steps.'

'Oh, right.' Richard nodded.

'It's all right, Dad. You should have heard Ron use a telephone for the first time. Harry told me he was shouting loud enough to be heard in York.' Hermione chuckled. She came to the back door and opened it, inhaling the mingled scents of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, baked apples, and the underlying aroma of talcum powder.

This was home.

'Hi, Hermione.' Katie was sitting at a corner of the table, one of the twins in her arms, stifling a yawn.

'Long night?' Hermione asked sympathetically.

'Eventually, we're just going to have to learn to ignore the crying. They just sound so pathetic.'

'Where's everyone else?' The kitchen was strangely empty, save for Katie and the baby.

'Sitting room. Harry and Ginny aren't here just yet, and Bill, Fleur, Victoire, and Maddie will be a bit late. Bad night for Maddie. She's cutting some new teeth,' Katie explained.

'Thanks. Oh, Katie, you remember my mum and dad?'

'Of course I do.' Katie smiled. 'How do you do, Mrs. Granger? Mr. Granger?'

'Fine, thanks,' Jane said, quickly.

'Apparated for the first time, did you?' Katie asked wryly.

'How can you tell?'

'You look like you're trying to figure out whose shoes to vomit on.' Katie shifted the baby - Jacob - Hermione saw the birthmark behind his ear. 'It's how I felt the first several times my parents Side-Alonged me. Just tell Molly. She'll get you sorted out in no time.'

Hermione flashed a grateful smile at Katie. No matter how badly she wanted her parents to get to know the Weasleys better, bringing them here made her a little nervous. She led them through the kitchen door to the sitting room. 'Hi,' she said brightly to the room. 'I brought my parents.'

Molly's face brightened as she bustled across the room. 'Come in, and make yourselves at home,' she said. Molly looked at Jane and Richard closely. 'Apparated you, did she? Well, have a seat on that sofa, and I'll bring you something to get you feeling more normal.' Molly went into the kitchen, while Hermione urged her parents to the sofa.

Richard sat back and looked around the room. 'So? Who's the young lad that likes footie?'

Teddy slid off Bronwyn's lap and raced across the room, carefully avoiding Parker and Isabella. 'Me!' he shouted, his hair going purple.

'You're Teddy, right?' Richard asked. Teddy nodded vigorously. 'Well, come on up, lad, and I'll tell you all about the best football club in England. And after lunch, you and I can go out into the garden and you can show me what you can do with a football.' Teddy clambered onto Richard's lap, his storybook forgotten on the floor. 'All right, then. The only club worth bothering with is Manchester United.'

Hermione perched on the arm of the chair Ron occupied and watched her father instill his love of Manchester United into Teddy's willing ears. Teddy's hair gradually turned bright red, to match the jersey Richard wore, drinking in every word Richard said. She felt a prickle of tears and blinked. Ron laced his fingers through hers, and brought the back of her hand to his lips. She looked down at him. He smiled up at her, and tilted his head toward her father and Teddy. It seemed to say to her, Don't worry. It will happen for us. 'Walk after lunch?' Ron whispered.

'Sure.' Hermione smiled. 'Tree house?'

'Is there anywhere else?'

*****

After lunch, Arthur, Molly, Andromeda, Jane, and Richard went back into the sitting room with their coffee, while the children were put down for naps, Teddy and Victoire protesting the entire time they were too old for naps. In the ensuing chaos, Ron and Hermione slipped out the back door.

They walked side-by-side, not saying anything. Hermione's hands were jammed into the pockets of her jacket. 'Your parents seem to be getting on well,' Ron commented. Hermione nodded. 'Teddy's mad about your dad.'

'Mmm-hmmm.'

'I hope Harry doesn't get sick from all that treacle tart he had.'

'Yeah.'

'Ginny said he's making up for when she was carrying James and she wouldn't let him have it in the house. It made her sick.' Ron looked at Hermione out of the corner of his eye. She didn't seem to be paying attention. 'You're picturing Teddy and your dad.'

'Yeah.' The tree house loomed above them, and Hermione swiftly scaled the ladder, and conjured a jar, putting her warm bluebell-hued fire in it. She set the jar in the middle of the tree house, and sat down, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them.

Ron's head popped through the trapdoor, grimacing at the light wind that whistled through the tree. He pulled himself through the rest of the way, and took his wand from his pocket. He walked around the perimeter of the room muttering, 'Impervious maximus.' The wind immediately died, and the inside of the tree house warmed considerably. 'Mione,' he began, sitting next to her. 'You spent more time at lunch watching your parents with the kids than actually eating.'

'Do you know how old my parents are?'

'I have an idea, yes.'

'Muggles don't live as long as wizards can. My mum is sixty-four, and Dad is sixty-eight. It's not quite elderly by modern standards, but it's not young either. Part of me wants to have a baby so badly so I can see them hold our child, and not James, Fred, Jacob, or Maddie.' Hermione's voice rose in near anger.

'Stop it.' Ron's voice was low and quiet. 'Mione, please. Just... Stop.' He rose to his knees, gripping her shoulders, shaking them a little. 'I don't want to talk about this anymore. I don't want to keep track of days on the calendar. I want to be able to make love with my wife without wondering whether or not this time was the one that worked. And most of all, I don't like what this is doing to you.

'You don't talk anymore. Not really. You don't talk about your work, or how you found something you missed the last six-hundred times you read Hogwarts, a History. You haven't asked about the shop in ages. Or teased me about how badly the Cannons are doing.' Ron released Hermione and sat back on his heels. 'I promised I would love you, no matter what, the day I married you. I meant it. And Hermione, I love you so much, I think it's going to kill me one day. But I don't want to lose you.'

Hermione stared at Ron, her mouth open in shock. 'But, I thought -'

'I do.' Ron cut her off harshly. 'But I don't want it to be everything in our life.' He tumbled to the floor and lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. 'Don't you think I see it? I see you every Sunday, surrounded by all these babies. I saw you leave Ginny's room when James was born, and I saw you when you tried to sneak back in. You'd been crying,' he said only slightly accusingly.

'Yes.' Hermione was startled into the truth. She didn't think he'd noticed.

'No more, Mione. Please?' Ron tugged her hands until she came to rest on his chest. 'It's just tearing you up, love. And I can't stand to see it anymore.'

'You're really angry at me, aren't you?'

Ron sighed and ran his hand up and down Hermione's back. 'No. Not at you. I just feel like that's all we talk about, all we do. Lately, it seems every conversation we have comes back to this, and it goes round and round in circles.' Ron pulled Hermione up so he could kiss her. 'The deadline still stands,' he told her, brushing a curl from her face. 'But from here on out, the next time we're here or anywhere in our flat, or hell, just anywhere, it will be for fun.'

'I don't remember what fun is like anymore,' Hermione said wistfully.

'Me, either.' Ron paused and looked down at the top of Hermione's head. 'So, when is it... erm... okay for us to...?' Ron flushed in embarrassment. There were still things he didn't like to talk about, and Hermione's cycle was one of them, even after being married for over a year.

'Wednesday.' Ron nodded. Hermione propped herself up to look at him. 'So, everything you just said...?'

'Didn't mean to sound so harsh.'

'Yes, you did, but that doesn't matter right now. Sometimes, it's the only way I'll listen.' Hermione waved off Ron's apology. 'When did all that...'

'When did I decide I wanted to stop obsessing?'

'Something like that, yes.'

Ron sighed. 'After you left this morning. It was getting bad before James was born, but it's gotten worse in the month since then. Last night made me see just how bad it had gotten. It's not healthy.'

'You're right.' A note of surprise drifted under the weariness in Hermione's voice.

'It happens from time to time,' Ron responded mildly. 'So, Wednesday, eh?'

'Yep. Wednesday.'