Harry Potter’s birthday

I've forgotten you just like I should,

Of course I have,

Except to hear your name,

Or someone's laugh that is the same,

But I've forgotten you just like I should.

~ Chet Baker, I Get Along Without You Very Well

Five minutes later, she Apparated in the graveyard of Godric's Hollow. As usual, there was nobody around. Even in summer's nights, the little village was very quiet.

Hermione walked through the graveyards without paying attention to the tombs. Her radar automatically signalled to her the position of the tombs of Dumbledore's mother and sister and of Harry's parents, but she didn't want to stop. She felt too sour to pay her respects to the dead.

She closed the kissing gate that protected the entrance to the graveyard behind her, and she looked at the square in front of her. Apart from the pub, whence came the muffled sound of voices and clacking steps, the square was bordered by cottages, which seemed already asleep. Hermione proceeded towards a narrow lane between the cottages.

As she passed by, the sculpture placed in the middle of the square transfigured from a war memorial into the statue of the Potters. Hermione halted and lifted her head.

The magically carved figures of James, Lily and little Harry cast a pale blue gleam against the indigo of the sky. Hermione used to take it for a gleam of hope. That night, however, she didn't feel the same spirit. She scowled at Lily's smiling face, and with an unknown grudge she murmured, "You're dead."

Feeling more lighthearted, she slipped into the alley.

She had just laid her hand on the gate to Harry's house, when a dark bolt zoomed out of the door, screaming, "HERMIOOOOOOOOONE," crossed the yard and clutched her knees. He was followed by a woman's voice shouting, "JAMES SIRIUS POTTER, HOW MANY TIMES DID I TELL YOU TO NOT RUN?" A moment later, Ginny's silhouette appeared in the doorway.

Hermione looked down on the little marauder and said, "Hullo, Jamie."

The boy clutched her knees harder, threw his head back to look at her and grinned. "Auntie Hermione, there are a lot of things you have to see!" He hadn't even finished talking when he grabbed her hand, dragged her inside, ignoring the frown and crossed arms of his mother. Hermione had barely the time to say "Hi, Ginny" and to hand her the Monk Bar packet before she was forced to follow the kid.

For a boy of four, James Sirius possessed a remarkable strength. Pulled by his little hand, Hermione could hardly catch a glimpse of the living room where a small group of people sat on the sofas. With her free hand, she waved a general greeting and hurriedly wished a "Happy birthday, Neville, happy birthday, Harry". Inexorable, James drew her upstairs. Ginny's "BE WISE, JAMES, AND LET HERMIONE FREE" found no reply.

In his room, James proceeded to show Hermione his collection of Quidditch players' cards, of Quidditch players' action figures, and of Quidditch teams' shirts. "And this is the most important thing," he said at last, holding a child-sized model of a Nimbus 2500 which had already caught Hermione's attention, as she had almost stumbled over it while getting into the room.

"That's lovely, Jamie," nodded Hermione with a smile.

"Mum doesn't want me to ride it," he told her seriously, "because it's very fast. It can reach thirty miles in fifteen seconds, you know."

"Mmh, that's very fast."

"But Dad lets me ride it in the garden." James smirked.

A dim knock on the door made Hermione turn. Little Albus peeped timidly over the threshold. He was paler, thinner and quieter than James was, with huge green eyes and sleek black hair. "Mother wants you to stop bothering Hermione," he said. "She has to go downstairs with the other grown-ups."

"I'm not bothering her; and you'd better come here and play with us instead of listening to what Mum says."

"Truly, James?" Ginny appeared behind Albus, with her arms crossed on her chest and a smile announcing no good. "You kids, it's time to go to bed. Lily is already sleeping and you should follow her example. Say goodnight to Hermione and to our guests and put on your pyjamas."

"Oh, Mum, but the party isn't over yet! You promised us to stay up for the cake!"

"If you continue to behave like this, Jamie, you'll see no cake at all. C'mon, start to put your pyjamas on."

"But MUM!"

"Let the children stay up until the cake, Ginny," interceded Hermione. "They will be wise, won't they? And they will let me go downstairs." James and Albus nodded furiously. "Good boys."

"But put your pyjamas on!" repeated Ginny, leaving the room.

"They are terrible, Hermione, believe me," she told her as they were going downstairs.

"They are adorable," Hermione replied.

"Adorable, of course, but terrible," concluded Ginny. "You have no idea what they did to the garden a few days ago. That's why we organised the party inside this year."

Finally, Hermione was able to get into the living room and greet everyone properly – Harry, the always dreamy Luna, Neville and Hannah. She hadn't seen them all since Christmas.

"You have to excuse Ron," Harry said. "He went a moment to the Burrow to collect the cake."

"Yes, my mother wanted to prepare it this time," explained Ginny, "and with all the traffic already in this house, I couldn't agree more."

"I've brought sweets too," said Hermione. "Ginny, where did you put the packet I gave you?"

"Ah, it's in the kitchen; I'll go get it."

"You know, Hermione," Neville spoke, "we are not celebrating only our birthdays today."

"Oh?"

"We are expecting a baby," stated Hannah. Neville beamed at her and squeezed her hand.

"That's wonderful! Congratulations, Hannah, Neville!" Hermione hugged the both of them. "When is your child due?"

"Thank you, Hermione. The beginning of February," replied Hannah.

"It's the best time to go searching for Kruntzels," observed Luna. "You'll have to catch a basket of Kruntzels for your child, Neville. It's a good omen for newborns. Traditionally, it's the father who collects them."

"Ah, surely, Luna." Neville nodded, politely. "Where can I find them?"

"They live in the Svalbard, mostly. They like to share their nests with the polar bears, though I believe the Kruntzels would get on very well with sea lions as well."

"It sounds lovely. Would you go to the Svalbard in February for our child, Neville, dear?" asked Hannah.

"Of course, love," replied Neville, surrounding Hannah's shoulders with one arm and drawing her closer to kiss her forehead. In that moment Ginny returned, holding the Monk Bar packet in one hand and Levitating a tray of beverages with her wand in her other hand. The packet was placed along with the other presents on the table, next to half-full plates of sandwiches and canapés.

"So, how are things at Hogwarts?" asked Hermione when drinks had been distributed and everybody had sat back on the sofas.

"Nothing has changed," replied Neville, and he took a sip from his butterbeer. "Minerva grows old, Blaise grows slimier and we lack a DADA teacher."

"Harry told me that. He said Minerva continues to torment him about it."

"Gosh, let that go for now. I don't want to hear about DADA on my birthday too."

"What do you have to complain about? You two are only twenty-nine. Me, I'll be thirty in September."

"Yes, let's talk about you, Hermione. Tell us about this library of yours."

"It's not mine, alas."

"You seem the person in charge there. Didn't you tell me you were the only librarian during the evenings?"

"Yes," Hermione grimaced, "but it's not as pleasing as it may sound, you see."

Harry blinked. "I'd swear you would love to work in a library."

"Oh, I do; it's only tedious to be there alone. Luckily, the book I'm restoring, The Twelve Patriarkes and the Twelves Prophetes Comparatened for – "

"Ah! Wait, Hermione," Harry interrupted her, "you wrote to me you've met an old acquaintance of ours in York; we wondered who he could be. Maybe Cormac McLaggen?"

"No, he's from Northumberland and lives there now, I believe," said Neville. "Maybe it's Professor Vector?"

"I believe it's Snape," chirped Luna.

Hermione pinched with three fingers the triangle of skin between her eyebrows and her nose and shook her head, then nodded. "You got it, Luna," she sighed. "He's Severus Snape."

"Oh, God," said Ginny. "How is he?"

"Oh, for his own standards, well, I suppose. He's giving me a hell of a time."

"I have no difficulty believing that, Hermione," commented Neville, and he visibly shuddered. Even Luna seemed concerned for a moment.

"Trust me, Harry: for the first time in our lives, I agree with everything you and Ron thought of him while we were at school."

"How could that be? He's a most brave –"

"UUUUUNCLE ROOOOOOON!" James' voice bellowed from the corridor.

"JAMES, DON'T RUN!" Ginny shouted in return. "Excuse me; I have to put the cake in the fridge." She stood up, and Hermione imitated her.

"Hi, boy," said Ron from the corridor. "How long, eh?"

Hermione rubbed away the sweat from her hands with a napkin and moved towards the entrance, just as James zoomed back to the living room.

In recent years, every time she had met Ron, she used to have only three thoughts. First: 'How could I go out with him?" Second: 'How could I go out with him for so long?' She didn't like freckles. Not in particular, at least. She didn't like Quidditch. Not in particular, at least, unless it was supported by a nice boy such as James Sirius. But most important of all, when they had gone out together she was in no position to help Ron with his nightmares, broken as she was herself. They had plunged one another into depression.

'Why didn't I leave him earlier? We weren't meant to stay together for three and a half years. We were splendid friends. Why did our friendship go away with our love?" This was usually the third thought.

When she popped into the corridor, however, her eyes laid on Ron's tall figure only for a moment. Her attention was quickly caught by the young woman at his side, tucking her hand under Ron's arm. She had short, black hair, large brown eyes bordered by long lashes, thick with mascara, and fleshy lips emphasized by a pink gloss. A blue and green striped top with narrow straps, a denim miniskirt and a pair of high-heeled sandals suited her petite body. She radiated happiness, energy and sex appeal.

"Sandra!"

"Hermione! Oh, dear Lord!"

Hermione ran into her opened arms, and the two women hugged and kissed fondly. When they parted, they started giggling and clapping their hands together like little girls.

"What are you doing here?" asked Hermione.

"Can't you tell? I'm with this gentleman here." Sandra nodded to Ron. "He made me Apparate!" She giggled.

"Wait! So, you know...?"

"Of course I know! Not that Ron can't keep a secret, of course, it's only that I'm an awesome sleuth. Well, once you're invited to Apparate to the Burrow, you cannot feign not to notice magic." Sandra winked at Ron and they both laughed.

"My aim was to convince her I was the only, and most powerful, warlock in the world," said Ron. "Family apart, of course."

"I would expect it from Ron, but I'd never guessed you were a witch, Hermione. You seemed so respectable," remarked Sandra, trying to look serious, and bursting out laughing a moment later.

Hermione joined the laugh. "So, you finally settled down," she said warmly, eventually turning to Ron.

"Yep," he said, "Hermione, let me introduce you my girlfriend, Sandra. Oops, but you already know her." And they both laughed again.

Ron found a girl. Therefore, maybe...

"C'mon, people, move along. You occupy the entire corridor," said Ginny, leaving the kitchen. "There's a whole living room waiting for you."

They returned in the living room and took their seats. Hannah and Luna were sitting on the floor, playing with James and Albus. Harry interrupted his discussion with Neville and smiled to Hermione. "See? This is our second surprise for you. Ron found a girl, finally!"

"I know! But now you have to tell me everything from the start, please."

"Let me see... well, you already know Sandra..."

"You knew Sandra?" asked Neville. "This is not a surprise, Harry."

"Oh, but I didn't know she was going out with Ron!"

"How did you meet Sandra, Hermione?" asked Hannah from the floor.

"We attended Camberwell together," said Sandra. "Camberwell College of Arts, in London. Many, many years ago." She giggled.

"Right. But you haven't changed a bit, Sandra."

"Neither have you, Hermione. Ron told me you are working in a library."

"Exactly; I'm working in the Emily Brontë Library in York. I'm restoring a series of tomes printed in 1499."

"Cool! You were the best in book restoration classes, Hermione."

Everybody nodded in unison. "That's no wonder, Sandra," commented Harry.

"But you have to tell me how you met Ron."

"How Ron stumbled on her, you mean," Harry smirked.

"Stumbled against her, precisely," said Ron.

"So, what did happen?"

"I was getting out from work – I work in the bookshop of a museum, you see – and this gentleman here wasn't looking at where he placed his large feet, you see. He literally bumped against me." Sandra giggled. "We fell together on the pavement."

"That's a sign I was falling for you from the start," Ron said with a pleased tone.

"So, the thing we splashed in was a puddle of love, wasn't it, dear?"

"And the next day he brought her flowers to apologise," Hannah continued, "that's my favourite part!"

"What I haven't understood is what Ron was doing next to a museum," Hermione insinuated.

"Snape is influencing you, Hermione," observed Neville. "Did you know that, Ron? Hermione met Snape in York."

"Oh, really? How is he?"

"He's far too healthy."

"Oh, Hermione," said Hannah. "After all he went through..."

"Who is Snape?" asked Sandra.

A perplexed silence followed Sandra's question. "He was a professor of ours at Hogwarts," replied Ron eventually. "He was a difficult man, and he wasn't kind to his students, but he fought valiantly during our war with Voldemort."

"You speak of him as if he was dead," remarked Sandra.

"Almost. He lost his magic as a consequence of a wound."

"The Healers conveyed his magical energies to his injury to cure it," explained Hannah with a dramatic tone, "and the wound healed perfectly! Not even a scar! But his magic was consumed in the process. I don't know what it would be like."

"You make it sound as if life depended on having magic," said Sandra resentfully.

"That's not what they meant," said Hermione, looking murderously at them. "It's only that our relationship with this man was very complex. Please, continue to tell me how this wretch was able to get you."

Through many other interruptions – among which, James threatening to destroy a vase belonged to Aunt Muriel – Sandra told how she had accepted Ron's flowers, then Ron's invitation to dine together, and then to have a drink after dinner. Although it was already known to Harry, Ginny and the rest, Sandra's first visit to the Burrow gave everyone a good laugh. For a Muggle, she seemed to accept the existence of wizards in a very matter-of-fact way, yet her reactions to magical objects and wizarding habits were amusing to say the least. No wonder Arthur had adopted her with an unrelenting passion. "My dad wants to steal my girlfriend," Ron joked. "He has never been as proud of me as when I started dating a Muggle."

Ron found a girl, she went to the Burrow, and Arthur is fond of her. So, maybe, Molly's curse is over! thought Hermione. Among meeting Sandra again, playing with the children, and learning that Neville was going to become father as well, the party was going far better than she had expected. She felt no jealousy for Ron; she had hoped for so long that he would eventually find a girl who could give him what she could not. Sandra seemed perfect for him: she was determined, headstrong, adventurous, and possessed a keen sense of humour. She exuded confidence and a joy of living. Hermione couldn't be happier that Ron found a companion like her. When she had broken up with him, he was devastated; he tried to patch things up, he wrote her imploring letters, he popped up at university to talk with her. She felt sorry for him, but she knew she had done the right thing in leaving him. It was neither good, nor right, to stay with someone you didn't love anymore.

Molly Weasley wasn't of the same opinion, it seemed. The idea of her son marrying his former school mate, a girl she had brooded under her wings, was planted so deeply in her brain that she had taken their break up much worse than Ron himself. She called Hermione a traitor of their family, a profiteer, a heartless, selfish dissembler. If Ron had sent owls, Molly sent Howlers. Hermione had a heart of stone to leave Ron after what he had gone through. She could stop faking God knows which invented war trauma, since she had lost no relatives in the war and had not been injured. She was ungrateful. And so on, and so on.

But now Ron had totally recovered and he had found a new girlfriend, if Molly was happy with her, maybe...

Ginny interrupted her reflections, carrying a tray of fruit skewers. Guests gathered around the table, preceded by the kids, who grasped three skewers each. Chewing a peach slice, Luna observed casually, "It's nice to see that Ron went out with two girls from the same university. It gives a sense of fidelity."

"That's because Camberwell produces the best looking girls in London," said Sandra, winking at Hermione. "Honestly, Hermione, Ron was worried about bringing me here tonight. He didn't know how you would react to the two of us together. I told him to shut up, because at the most you would complain about me settling down so low."

Hermione laughed. "I'm happy for the both of you. Truly. You fit well together."

"I knew I could count on you, Hermione. Thanks."

They continued eating their skewers. When she finished, Hermione asked, "Tell me, Sandra: have you seen other people from Camberwell, recently? I pretty much lost touch with everyone, apart from Irene and Pauline."

"Mmh." Sandra swallowed her last bit of plum. "I met a lot of people in May, actually. Alberta, Nick, Geoff, Sarah, Michelle... We were invited to a wedding. Jill got married."

"I didn't know that! Oh, God!"

"We wondered about you, in fact. But Nick said you didn't know Jill very well."

"That's true; I knew her only by sight. And who did she marry?"

"Uhm. He's called Chris. Chris Darrell. He graduated from Camberwell as well, a couple of years before us. A fine figure of a man, if I do say so." Sandra giggled. "Hermione? Are you well?"

Any colour had left Hermione's cheeks. Yet, she managed to reply, "Oh? Yes, of course... Yes."

"That Chris Darrell... Not only is he handsome, he's also highly intelligent. He works at the British Library. Jill was very lucky."

By heavens, very lucky, indeed.

She sat back on the sofa, next to Harry and Neville. They were discussing about the DADA problem in Hogwarts. She didn't hear a word of it. Jamie and Albus encircled her and asked her to play with them. Hermione didn't answer, and the kids turned to Luna. On the stroke of midnight, Ginny came out of the kitchen holding a large, rectangular cake covered with strawberries and cream. The children screamed in excitement. Ron called out "Nox!" and everybody sang "Happy Birthday" while Neville and Harry blew the candles out. Hermione moved her lips without uttering a sound. The guests of honour opened their gifts; Hermione's chocolate bottle was praised, opened, and the chocolate pralines that filled it were distributed around along with the cake. Hermione ate the birthday cake automatically. It had to be delicious, as everything prepared by Molly Weasley, yet she took no pleasure in eating it.

As Harry had promised, after the cake the party was over. Neville and Hannah were the first to bid goodbye; as a pregnant woman, Hannah had to rest regularly. Ron and Sandra followed them soon after. Sandra made Hermione promise to visit them in their flat. "When you come, I will show you the photos of Jill's wedding," she added. Hermione's stomach twisted.

Once her brother had left, Ginny grabbed James and Albus by their hands and declared, "Uncle Ron has gone and you ate the cake. It's now time for the both of you to brush your teeth, finally put on your pyjamas, and go to bed." Deaf to the kids' protests, Ginny dragged them upstairs.

Hermione followed them. As soon as Ginny installed herself in the bathroom to preside over the tooth brushing, Hermione slipped into Harry and Ginny's bedroom.

She closed the door behind her and cast a Silencing Charm on the room. Little Lily was sleeping peacefully in a cradle at the foot of the bed. Hermione half-smiled at her; so pure, so innocent, so unaware, yet, of life's tragedies. Non-verbally, she Accioed a vial, which flew into her hand from the drawer of Harry's bedside table. She tucked the vial in her pocket, removed the Silencing Charm and exited from the bedroom.

In the bathroom, Ginny was still struggling with the kids' pyjamas. Hermione ruffled the kids' hair and kissed them goodbye. Ginny hugged her and thanked her for giving such a warm welcome to Ron's girlfriend.

"I feared you would be upset, but Harry told me you'd take it well. For once, he was right."

Once more, he was wrong. I am awfully, horribly upset.

At the bottom of the stairs, Luna was looking at the pictures on the wall, holding a dish with a slice of cake Ginny had reserved for her father Xenophilus. When she heard Hermione's steps, Luna turned toward her and pointed to the picture she was observing. It was an old photograph of Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron at the Burrow, taken on Christmas, 2000. Ginny and Harry beamed and waved enthusiastically at the viewers while Ron looked away and Hermione was sulking.

"After you spoke with Sandra, this evening, you assumed the same expression you have in this photo," said Luna. "For a while, your eyes lost their light, and you seemed lost in thoughts. What did Sandra tell you?"

"Ah, it doesn't matter," replied Hermione, clutching the vial in her pocket. "Nothing we could work out, anyway."

"Mmh. I don't think it involves Ron."

"No, it doesn't."

"Good. Because, you see, now that Ron has found a girlfriend, I believe that Molly's curse is over."

Hermione drew a hand to her mouth. Luna knows it! But it's not over. It's working more than ever!

"Yes. Everything will sort out."

"Take care, Luna." Hermione hugged her.

"Give my regards to Snape. He was never as bad as he seemed."

Harry opened the front door and squeezed her hand.

"Thank you for coming, Hermione. It means a lot to us. The kids adore you."

"This isn't worth mentioning."

"You know, tomorrow there's the other party, at the Burrow. You're always welcome. Now that Sandra is with Ron, I suppose that Molly would be nicer to you."

"Thank you, Harry." She knew she wouldn't go there, now more than ever.

"Have a good time, back in York."

"Happy birthday, Harry."

She stepped out in the garden and Disapparated.

She Apparated at the corner of Haworth Road. At a quarter to one, the night started to be definitely chilly, and against the light of the lamppost, little drops of humidity were visible. Hermione staggered up to number 51. I have never smoked, but God knows if I'd like a cigarette now, she thought, giving a glance at her window.

Without caring for the Muggles who could possibly see her, she opened the door with an "Alohomora!" and proceeded upstairs without switching the light on. She leaned on the banister to climb the stairs and somehow limped to her room. Once there, she locked the door and performed a Silencing Charm on the walls. Finally, she allowed her bag to fall on the floor and she followed it. She crawled to the bed and she abandoned her arms and head over it, clutching the sheets and drawing them closer to her face.

A long, mute howl came out of her mouth and invisible tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She cried soundlessly, biting the sheet and crumpling it with her fingers, until her body stopped trembling. For an endless moment, she stood still, catching hold of the bed, with non-existent tears virtually streaming down her cheeks and burning her lids nonetheless.

Chris Darrell has married.

OOOooouurghOOooowwwwWWWUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHaaaaaAwwWWw.

When, through her blinded gaze, she saw the clock saying twenty to three, she forced herself to stand up. Her knees were sore for the protracted contact with the floor and her neck was aching. She pulled the vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion out of her pocket and she sipped it. Her fingers were icy and the liquid disgusted her. Without getting undressed, she lay on her bed and waited for the potion to take affect.

This one ranges a high score among the most miserable weeks of my life.

A/N: This chapter was inspired by chapters 12-13 of Solace by northangel27 (http://northangel27.deviantart.com/gallery/9364472). Northangel knows it.

Deep thanks to valady who betaed it family business notwithstanding, and to RobisonRocket for her further corrections.