Chapter Twenty

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. This is all for personal fun and enjoyment.

A/N: I am indebted to Snapeophile for alpha reading and offering critique and suggestion, as well as to Shug for her excellent beta work. Trust me, that woman works hard!

This is the second to last chapter and may have a different feel for reasons which will soon become apparent, though I feel that it fits with the story. I've wanted to write this chapter for a long time. I am content, and I hope you all find it fitting, as well.

*

Two months later – February

Nervous. Unsettled. Panicked. Utterly off her rocker.

Hermione couldn't quite describe how she was feeling. No word she could think of hit the mark – everything lacked the intensity, the complexity...

Merlin. She had no idea how she was going to get through the next two days.

She'd given Kingsley her schedule... was anticipating the meeting in France...

Severus.

Her new year had wrought a nervous ache in her gut that had intensified with every new week. Every 'x' on the calendar was significant.

She'd alternately worried over the meeting and refused to think about it. Mostly, she worried.

Her detached discussion with Rose had brought her memories back in full, bright, Technicolor force, played out for her conscious mind in vivid colors and costume like a Muggle film.

Her conscience was currently straddling the line between "Get away, this can't be good" and blatant curiosity mixed with intrigue, and somewhere there lay a near visceral need to see him in the flesh, as if to remind herself that she hadn't imagined it all.

It was scary as hell, but she was prepared for it. On a work level, at least. She was prepared for the meeting.

She wasn't prepared for their meeting.

How did one honestly prepare for such things?

With decency, perhaps. Dignity. Maturity. Bury the hatchet and all that.

All of that implied calm composure, though, and her heart was practically out of rhythm it was beating so fast.

And there were still forty-eight hours left to go.

She sighed and signed off on another memo.

"Hermione?"

Her head jerked up to her office doorway.

"Kingsley," she said. "What can I do for you?"

"Are you busy?"

"Just memos." She gestured to the small pile next to her.

"The meeting for Thursday has been postponed."

Her stomach plummeted, and her nerves were already so frayed that it felt like lightning had ripped electricity through her.

"Why?" she asked.

"Two members just returned from South America and are ill with an unknown ailment. Magical," he offered. "Apologies and regards were sent, but health must come first. We've agreed to meet later."

"Of course," she said. "Thank you."

He nodded and exited.

Before she could even think, Hermione reached for a piece of parchment and scribbled furiously –

13 February 2027

Severus,

Are you well?

-Hermione

She wrote his name at the top of the parchment and sent it flying to her Floo before she could talk herself out of it.

She slumped back in her chair as numbness registered.

*

Three weeks later – early March

Rose walked into her flat and threw her coat over the coat rack.

It had been a rough day at work.

She walked down the short hallway and stripped out of her work uniform – dark pants, light button-down shirt, white lab coat, solid, dependable black shoes. She tugged a camisole on over her head and pulled her pajama pants up over her bum. She was ready to settle in for the night.

She was in the last term of her internship, thank Merlin. It was March. She'd be done in May.

The fourth of March. It was the fourth of March. James' twenty-third birthday.

Her eyes darkened. She walked into her small kitchen and pulled a Coke out of the refrigerator. Muggle soda and photography – those were her weaknesses.

She hopped up on the counter and opened the can over the sink before taking pleasure in the fizzy carbonation that slid down her throat. She looked at the can. It was her favorite soda. James', too.

She sighed. James had been gone for nearly a year now. He was her best friend – well, aside from Delilah Finnigan, who had inexplicably decided that dating Hugo would be a good idea.

Hugo had fancied Delilah since he could walk. He was probably in heaven.

Rose rolled her eyes. She wasn't one for romance, for frills and thrills and cheap sex and even cheaper beer. That's what romance was when you were twenty, anyway. Her twenty-first was coming next month, now that she thought about it. She and Delilah had already made plans to go to Paris for the weekend.

In the meantime, it was James' birthday.

"Here's to you, James," she said aloud. "Wherever you are – so long as you are well." She raised her glass in the air in a mock toast, which reminded her –

She and James had gone out with a huge group of friends in Muggle London for his last birthday. Delilah had been there; so had their cousins Fred, Roxanne, Molly, Lucy, Dominique, and Louis. Zeke Thomas, Adam McCormack – a good friend of James, an ex of Rose's. Lots of others. And the Terrible Twosome, of course. She chuckled. James' best friends, both Muggle born, had coordinated the party, even though James could have done it himself. Ryan McBride and Isaac Christensen – Rose got along with them both fabulously, though she hadn't seen much of them lately. James and those two had been near inseparable in school, and Ryan and Isaac were practically family.

As such, they'd beat away most potential boyfriends for Rose and Lily, especially Rose, since she was closer to them in age. Not that she'd had an abundance of suitors, Rose thought, smirking, but there had been a few from her house, like Adam. Unfortunately, Isaac had been in Ravenclaw, too, and Rose could have sworn that James was on standby whenever anything happened in the common room. Isaac had sent her out to talk to James in the hall on several occasions... Well, he had tried to, at least.

They'd been an interesting trio – still were, come to that. James the Gryffindor, son of the Chosen One, leading the way alongside two Muggle-borns who had had no clue who the hell he was. Well, most people didn't, not at first glance anyway. He wasn't an explicit physical likeness of Harry, not like Al was. James was a blend of both his parents – he had Ginny's hazel eyes and a head of chocolate-brown hair that had a reddish tint to it, but it wasn't identifiably Weasley like Rose and Lily's hair. And he was tall – tall and broad-shouldered, not lean like his dad or stocky like some of his uncles – just hard and tall. Rose's dorm mates had all had crushes on James at some point. Al was the quiet one, very bright but also shy, whereas James was the social butterfly, friends with everyone, always up for a laugh, a consummate entertainer. Rose shook her head. Could the two of them be any more different?

How had she gotten on this train? Ah. Ryan and Isaac. She sipped more of her soda and glanced over at the pictures on her refrigerator. There was one of her with Ryan and Isaac on either side on their way into a Weird Sisters reunion concert. Isaac Christensen was the exceptionally gifted, blond-haired and blue-eyed heartbreaker in Ravenclaw, charming, polite – the delight of his professors. Ryan McBride was the dark and swarthy, uncannily cunning Slytherin, the more discreet half of the practical jokes he and James were so fond of pulling.

He had been, in fact, the first Muggle-born to be put in Slytherin in over sixty years.

And he was a most excellent Slytherin.

Scorpius, she thought, and her eyes narrowed automatically. Scorpius had been at James' party – naturally. She'd forgotten about that. He was her age but had been good friends with Ryan and thus had become friends with James. "Why do you have to be friends with everyone?" Rose had demanded of him, only to receive laughter and a smile in return. She and the Malfoy heir had entertained a fierce rivalry all through Hogwarts. Scorpius had never been mean, per se, but –

Well, their friends and professors had been forced to physically restrain the two from coming to literal blows on numerous occasions, especially during their last few years.

She flushed even thinking about it. He was so bloody infuriating.

He was why she'd had a bad day, actually – he was also interning to be a mediwizard, and they'd got in a fight over a patient's diagnosis.

He'd been right this time, damn him. It'd been a stupid mistake on her part, and he'd pointed it out in front of everyone.

Well, he had to get his kicks somehow, she thought. She had been at the top of her class all through school. He'd been number two and was never going to forgive her for it. Ah, well. His loss.

Smiling smugly, she finished her soda, squeezed the can, and chucked it in the rubbish bin.

Rose hopped off the counter and heard a knock at the door not a second later.

"Coming," she said as she walked to the door. She looked through the peephole and nearly fell over as she jerked the door open and flew smack into James' arms.

"Hey, hey," he chuckled, patting her on the back as he walked them into the flat and kicked the door shut.

Rose was squeezing him as if she were hanging on for dear life.

"You're here," she said as he set her down. Bloody hell, she'd forgotten how tall he was. She looked him over, making sure he was still in one piece, the same as always, and not someone Polyjuiced.

"You are James, aren't you?" she demanded. "Not Ryan or Isaac or Scorpius playing a trick? Tell me something only I would know."

"Your favorite color is blue." He smirked and leaned against the wall.

"Anyone would know that!" she insisted and smacked him on the shoulder. "Come on, something real so I know it's actually you."

He sobered.

"You cried yourself to sleep your first night at Hogwarts, and I came and waited outside of Ravenclaw tower and sat with you every night that first week before bed until Flitwick came out and sent me away."

She launched herself at him again, holding him in a fierce hug. "I have missed you so much."

He patted her head. "I'm so sorry, Rose, so sorry that I didn't tell you, but I couldn't –"

"It hurt like hell." She released him.

"Forgive me?" he asked.

"You know I already have." She nodded towards the couch, and they went to sit down on opposite ends. "Tell me about where you were," she said, wiping her eyes. "Are... are you back for good or are you leaving again?"

"I'm back for good," he responded, sitting down and propping his feet up on the coffee table as Rose sighed in relief. He looked at her strangely. "You're taking this really well," he said. "I thought I'd have to tie you to a chair and make you listen or browbeat you into submission."

"That's not funny, James," she interrupted.

"Sorry."

She rolled her eyes.

He grinned.

"So where have you been?" she asked, already frustrated with him, which was probably a good sign.

"The Continent, traveling around, playing music."

Her jaw dropped. "You actually –" She grinned stupidly, encouraging him to continue.

"Played with a band? Yeah." That grin was still plastered on his face.

"You've always wanted to be a musician."

"I always have been a musician," he said. "I've played guitar ever since I borrowed Ryan's first year and –"

"You play so beautifully." Rose leaned her head against the couch. "I'm so happy for you."

James paused. "You're seriously not mad? I feel like I'm missing something."

You are. "I have been mad," she said. "I'm very, very hurt that you didn't write." She looked at him accusingly. "But I've had to trust that you would come back and tell me when you were ready." She took a deep breath. "So... who did you play with?" And as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew.

"Isaac on bass and Ryan on drums, of course. We've been a group since Hogwarts."

"You guys always played the balls and in Hogsmeade..." Rose trailed off, remembering.

He nodded. "We've been playing the Muggle and wizard circuits to see where we could make it."

"And?"

"We just got signed to a wizarding label out of Dublin." He grinned. "Which is why I'm back."

"Congratulations." She paused. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked in a small voice.

He sighed. "Honestly, Rose, I don't know. I just wanted a clean break.'

"Who knew where you were?" she pressed.

"Ryan and Isaac."

"Aside from your friends."

He looked at her for a long moment. "Teddy and Victoire," he said at last. "Teddy's like my big brother. He's just... there." He gestured with his hands. "I couldn't – wouldn't – tell Mum or Dad; they just don't get music so much, you know? But Teddy takes me no matter what, and Victoire is a writer, so I figured that they would understand better than anyone. And I didn't want to lose my flat," he continued, "so I offered it to Victoire as writing space. She's been wanting to lease an office now that the twins are older."

Rose nodded. "When Harry went to your landlady, she just said that it had all been taken care of."

"I made her promise under pain of death," James said, smirking.

Rose froze. "James Sirius Potter," she said sternly, "you did not have your landlady make an Unbreakable Vow!"

"She likes me," James said cheekily, and Rose groaned. "Oh, come on," he continued. "I couldn't let anyone except Teddy and Victoire know. Dad's name carries a lot of weight."

She put her face in her hands. "Oh, James, there are rules about that sort of thing..."

"Stop lecturing me?"

"Fine."

"Agree with me that Dad would have been able to find out."

She looked at him. "Fine." She sighed. "Yes, I know that your dad's name carries a lot of weight."

"It's part of why I left," James said quietly.

"What was?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

"Dad – the family – the whole thing." He raked a hand through his hair. "I've come to better grips with it now, but do you have any idea how hard it is to be the firstborn son of Harry Potter?"

"No," Rose said frankly. "But I have it pretty hard, too."

James nodded. "Dad was the Chosen One, and everyone reveres him and... I was an average student who was always in trouble."

"The trouble was your own damn fault," Rose said primly, and James laughed.

"I know. But I wasn't as smart as you or even Albus, and this sounds awful, but I wasn't as stunning as Victoire or Dominique or Louis –"

"They have Veela blood, James. None of us can hold a candle."

"And I wasn't brilliant at Quidditch like Fred and Rox."

"You are smart, James," Rose said firmly. "You are smart and good at Quidditch – you're an effing good Keeper – and you're good looking, too, or did the massive crowds of girls following you around school somehow escape your attention?"

"I'm not the best at anything," James said, plowing forward, "but the first time I picked up a guitar – it was magic." His entire face brightened. "Ryan and Isaac and I all loved music more than anyone in our families, we were all basically self-taught, and no one else we knew really 'got' it. Half the time we were in trouble first year was because we got caught going in and out of the Room of Requirement between jam sessions."

"The Room of Requirement..."

"Our practice space, music room, classroom. We all thought it was fun, though. None of us ever took it seriously as a possible profession – wizards really don't take music seriously in school. When we left Hogwarts, we all went into desk jobs that we hated. Then one day Ryan asked what we thought about just taking time off to try and make it as a band, and none of us had taken the idea seriously before, but we were all thinking 'is this it?' It didn't take us long to decide. I couldn't stand any more of Britain," he continued. "Do you ever just get sick of it all?"

"Not really," Rose said. "But I've always been more internally oriented than you."

"Yeah. I wish I was like that sometimes."

Rose snorted. "Shut up."

He grinned at her again. "But back to why I couldn't stand Britain..."

"It's always got to be about you, James," Rose said, only half-serious.

"Rosie." He sighed and raked a hand through his hair again. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry. But Britain was just – it was always the same people everywhere, all the time. It wasn't possible to get enough trips in to Muggle London to escape it all. Family was everywhere and friends and people from school and everyone just thinks they know about our family –"

"That, I understand."

"I know you do," he said quietly. "It just got to the point where I couldn't take it anymore, and there were Ryan and Isaac wanting to tour the Continent. It was a no-brainer. I thought what the hell, let's go. So we did. And soon, I forgot about Britain. Not about the obvious things," he hastened to say, "cause obviously I missed you and I even missed Dad and Mum on occasion. But soon it became about the music, not about escaping. Music isn't taken seriously as a profession in wizarding Britain, but it is over there, and sweet Merlin, Rose, the things we heard in Prague and Venice and Paris and Amsterdam – it was fucking amazing. We grew so much. We learned so much, met so many new people. The attitude is just completely different."

"I can only imagine," Rose said softly, thinking of her mum. "So you have a record deal now – that's what it's called, yes?" she asked more brightly.

He nodded. "With a wizarding label, which is what we really wanted, of course. What you can do with magic in a concert venue is just incredible. You'll love it."

"I'll be in the front row." Rose grinned back at him. "I'm so happy for you, James." She reached to take his hand, gave his fingers a squeeze and then let go.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "It's such a... a relief... that you understand and just accept it at face value. I was expecting hell," he said, "so I'm grateful."

"Well, I love you."

"Ditto, Rosie."

She snorted. "Still emotionally incapacitated, I see."

"Well –" he started, then stopped himself, and Rose's eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"What?" She went on high alert and sat up straight. "Oh my – James Potter! Have you met someone?"

Merlin, she was practically squealing.

He flushed. "It's not like that –"

"Oh, please tell me it's like that!" she exclaimed. "You have never had a real girlfriend. Your hit and run routine is still legendary at Hogwarts."

He winced. "Ouch. That hurts."

"Well, you deserve it," she said frankly. "You kept a lot of girls on the run, and you treated a lot of them like crap after you got what you came for. Inexplicably, they kept chasing." She shook her head in mild disbelief. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn't have thought it possible for half of Hogwarts' female population to be in love with one boy at the same time.

And James was looking quite smug sitting across from her.

She snorted. Really, he could be infuriating.

He grinned at her. "Yes, they chased. Inexplicably."

"Shut up."

For all James' talk of Bill and Fleur's kids being the best looking in the family, he had been the real heartbreaker... of the men at least; her cousin Molly broke hearts almost as often as she broke noses. But on the Y chromosome end of things, Louis had been noble, Albus was shy, and Fred had been in love with Kyla Lovegood-Thomas since they were kids, regardless of the fact that he was a few years older than the poor girl and that Kyla's older brother Zeke was his best friend.

"Don't kill me over school stuff, Rose," James said, adopting a penitent air. "I was always up front with the girls."

"You weren't," she sighed.

"I was young!" he insisted.

"Pfft."

"I was seventeen. I'm older now."

"I know." She relaxed. "So this new woman. Explain."

He chuckled. "You'll meet her tomorrow night."

Rose clapped her hands, joyful. It was about time that he found someone he cared about. "Where are you all playing? When?"

"At Mundy's. It's a bar in Muggle Dublin – a small joint, really good for live music. We're playing tomorrow, and I'll invite Mum and Dad and your mum, too."

"Why my mum?" she asked, confused.

He paused for a long moment. "I wasn't at your dad's funeral," he said quietly. "I owe her."

Rose felt like an awful daughter for having forgotten, in her excitement at his return, that James had been absent for the most important family function in years.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Okay," she said. "So... you haven't been to your parents?" she asked, wanting to change the subject.

He shook his head. "I just got in."

"And I'm the first person you saw?"

"Yup."

She launched herself across the couch and into his lap. "Thank you. I love you." She got up and walked over to the kitchen. "I'm a bad hostess. Can I get you anything? Coke, water, Guinness?"

"No, actually. I've got to get to my parents' and then to Teddy and Victoire's."

"All right," she said as he came over to hug her.

"Be at the pub around seven," he said.

"That's early."

"We start at eight, but I want to catch a bite to eat with you before. You can yell at Ryan and Isaac about how awful they are for not telling you where I am."

"Yeah." It dawned on her. "I did talk to them way back in September – you'd been gone for some time but I saw them in Diagon Alley and I didn't even think –"

"Hey, hey, it's done now," James said. "Like I said, though, you can yell at them tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it." She grinned.

"See you tomorrow." He flashed a smile and walked out the door.

*

The next evening – Mundy's Pub, Dublin, 7:25

Mundy's was an old family establishment in what had been the height of downtown Dublin in the '50s, and Rose was inordinately pleased when she entered the dark, slightly smoky, inexplicably homey pub, completely decked out in hardwood. The floors, the bar that ran almost the entire length of the back wall, the chairs, the booths (which were accented with threadbare green lining) – everything was wood, and it was glorious. One wall was plastered ceiling to floor with photographs of musicians and their performances; there were candles on every table, and the stage had already been set up.

Rose loved places like this – atmosphere was a hard commodity to come by. It was expensive as hell. Authentic atmosphere was priceless and extremely rare, but this place had it in spades.

She loved it already.

"Rosie!'

She turned towards James' voice and was surprised at how fast he moved across the pub to her, lifting her off her feet in a bear-tight hug.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," she said apologetically.

"It's all right. We've already eaten, though."

"That's fine."

He smiled. "All right, then. Ryan, Isaac – get over here!" he called.

Rose saw the others then, and she laughed as they ran over and sandwiched her in a hug.

"Hi, boys," she said.

"James has informed us that you are going to verbally filet us and eat us for dinner," Isaac said, cocking his head in James' direction. "Is that true?"

Rose looked the three of them, conveniently standing in a line, noting the coordinated cuts of their clothes – the dark, boot-cut jeans, the tight black shirts, steel-toe boots, and varying levels of gel in hair: Ryan's was spiked, Isaac's slicked back, and James' was tousled.

"I think it's just darling that you all dress to match each other," she said saccharinely and was very pleased with their reaction.

"She's done it at last! She's cut off me balls!" Ryan exclaimed, and Rose and Isaac slugged him.

"Oh, shut your mouth, you old tosser," Rose said, walking arm-in-arm with Ryan and Isaac up towards the stage.

"Old tosser, am I?"

"I am younger," Rose said brightly, batting her eyelashes at him just so.

Ryan broke away, laughing. "Christ, woman. I pity the man you end up with. He'll have absolutely no say in the matter."

"You already scared the men away, Ryan, as you well know."

"Note how she says you and not me," Isaac said, handing Rose a Guinness from the table.

Rose shrugged. "You're just kind."

Isaac grinned and kissed her cheek. "Sorry we took him away for so long."

James glanced at his watch. "Time for sound checks."

"When will everyone else get here?" Rose asked, noting the other patrons mulling around the bar, looking at the stage with curiosity and expectation.

"I told the parents 7:45," James said.

"Claire should be here soon," Isaac said, strapping on his bass.

James flushed, and Ryan chortled. "You'd think he'd never seen a woman before Claire DuBois," he said raucously, and Rose sat down at the front table with a thud.

"Rose? Are you all right?" James asked, concerned.

"Yeah," Rose said. "I just drank the Guinness too fast."

"I remember you having a decent tolerance..." Ryan said, and James glared at him. Ryan winked at Rose and twirled a drumstick between his thumb and forefinger. He always had been a show-off.

As the men fiddled with their instruments, amps, chords, and then the sound board, Rose's heart felt like it was racing a mile a minute.

Claire. Claire DuBois.

Henri and Cosette's daughter, unless there was a Claire DuBois she didn't know about, which was unlikely.

Her mother's godchild.

Mum! Mum will be here!

She put her hand on her chest and rubbed, nervous. Her mum had said that Claire had wanted to meet her –

Her heart fluttered, and she breathed deeply, feeling old insecurities rise up in her.

I hope she likes me.

Rose pulled her sweater tightly around her and watched her old friends prepare for the show.

*

A few minutes later, the doors opened, and Rose startled as James whipped around on the stage and grinned, his attention riveted elsewhere –

Rose turned around in her chair and saw a lithe, black-haired woman walk through the doors, replete in tight jeans and a snug black t-shirt. Merlin, she almost matched the band. Rose tucked an errant curl behind her ear and watched Claire's progress towards the table.

Claire nearly stopped in her tracks as she saw Rose. Her eyes met Rose's with clarity and understanding.

"Rose?" she asked, her voice light and airy.

"Claire," Rose said and rose from her chair as Claire ran towards her and embraced her like a long-lost friend.

Rose was almost a head taller than Claire and thus felt rather masculine while embracing the other woman, but her self-consciousness was overridden by a near-tangible sense of relief –

Her first interaction with her mum's old life, she realized.

A new addition to her own life.

Tangible. A bundled Frenchwoman in her arms, looking almost exactly like the woman Rose had pictured laughing side by side her own mum on a rainy day in Paris.

"I have wanted to meet you my whole life," Claire said as Rose released her. "I'm glad that day is here."

Claire took Rose's hand in hers, unwilling to let go, and Rose smiled.

"Umm." James' confused reaction sounded from the microphone. "Do you two –"

"I'll tell you later, ma chere," Claire said, grinning at him before blowing him a kiss.

James smiled and went back to tuning his guitar, already slipping into another gear.

"He's wrapped up in that guitar," Claire noted, sitting down in the chair next to Rose's.

Rose smiled at her. "Yes."

"One of his more attractive qualities," Claire said with a wink, and Rose winced.

"He's my cousin," she pleaded, and Claire laughed. "I just can't believe how..." Rose continued.

"Crazy, no?" Claire interrupted. She leaned in and put her elbows on the table to speak more intimately. "I didn't recognize his name, but when he started talking about his family and aunt and uncle and especially his cousin Rose..." Her face softened. "I went to talk to Maman a while ago. She told me that you... knew about it, now." She paused.

"Mum and I talked last December," Rose said. "I'm so sorry."

Claire waved a hand. "What's done is done. We can't change our past, let alone our mothers' past. We can only adjust our present expectations."

"True. Now, how did you and James meet?" Rose asked, smiling, and then she cut herself off. "I'm sorry! I'm so torn between asking for your life story and asking about how you and –"

"The part with James and those two ruffians is shorter," Claire intoned as Rose signaled the bartender for another round. "It's simple. I'm an art student at Vrije – a Muggle university in Amsterdam, you know – and James and Ryan and Isaac were playing at a local wizarding bar in – oh, last October, maybe? – and I was there with some of my girlfriends and..." She grinned. "It's clichéd, which my papa loves and my maman hates, but we made eye contact during the last song of the first set." She shrugged. "We talked all during that break and then ended up getting coffee after. I just – " She put her hand on Rose's. "I'm sorry, I know I'm being terribly forward and emotional, but I just feel that I've known you my whole life."

Rose smiled back at her. "I want to get to know you. I want to be friends," she said.

"Well, your mum is lovely, and James cannot sing your praises highly enough. He missed you, you know." Her eyes softened. "He just didn't know how to tell you."

Rose nodded. "It's forgiven. James is like my big brother. I love him and I forgive him. Simple."

"Love someone enough and you'll forgive them anything, yes?" Claire asked, and Rose sat back in her chair, stunned.

"What?" Claire asked, concerned. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Oh, no, no," Rose said quickly. "I just – I've said that exact same thing before. With a lot less kindness," she added.

"Well, you have to be careful with who you love," Claire said. "But sometimes the people we love the most hurt us the most, anger us the most – not abusive, of course, you have to know the difference, but the people we love often require the most forgiveness. They're the ones we let closest to our heart; they're the ones who can wound us deeply. But it goes both ways. Iron sharpens iron and all that."

"Mm. Good point." Rose sipped her beer and looked up at the stage, at her old friends, smiling and laughing. "It seems like you and James get on well together, based off my first impression... and by how much James and Mum adore you, of course."

"Well, I love them, too."

"We have a few things in common."

"We do." Claire grinned. "Will your mum be here tonight?"

"Yes," Rose said, and Claire squealed with excitement.

"I'm so glad," she said. "I haven't seen her in so long, and it's good to get away from my family – wait, that came out wrong. Seeing Hermione is like seeing family, only not my parents."

"Are you at home now?" Rose asked.

Claire nodded. "This is my last semester at school, but one of my uncles has been sick, so I've been visiting a lot."

"It's hard." Rose lowered her eyes.

"You lost your dad last year?" Claire asked quietly.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. Maman was going to attend the funeral, but then my grandmother passed away, so – yes, family tragedy is awful." Claire looked at her straight on. "Life is hard."

Rose looked at the stage and then at Claire and then heard familiar voices at the door, only to see her mum, Harry, and Ginny come in.

"Life can be good, too," Rose said, smiling, and nodded towards the door.

"Hermione!" Claire exclaimed, bolting out of her chair, running straight at a very surprised Hermione, who immediately enfolded her goddaughter in her arms and kissed her hair.

James had leapt from the stage to greet his parents who were, Rose noted, looking happier than they had in a long time. She saw her mum release Claire, and James took Claire over to meet his parents as Hermione came to sit with her daughter.

"I see you've been talking with Claire," Hermione said, squeezing Rose's shoulder as she sat at the table.

"She's wonderful," Rose said truthfully.

Hermione took Rose's hand. "So are you, my dear. You look lovely tonight," she said.

Rose looked down at her indigo-blue tank top, white cardigan, and gray trousers. "I missed the memo," she said wryly, "everyone's dressed in black – well, except Ginny." Ginny was still in her work suit.

"I'm still in my suit, too. It just happens to be black today," Hermione said.

"You look tired, Mum."

"It's been a long day," Hermione said.

Rose and Hermione stood as everyone started pulling more chairs and another table over.

"It's filling up nicely," Ginny said while Harry asked the boys what he could get them from the bar.

Rose heard James' cheeky "Just Guinness, Dad" reply. "We'll raid your liquor cabinet later," he called after his father, laughing, before he turned to everyone sitting at the table. "Or maybe Hermione's – you and Ron always had the best booze," he said to her.

Silence descended, and James walked over to Hermione and hugged her tightly. Rose thought she heard him say "I'm sorry," and she knew she heard her mum reply "I understand."

James didn't know that his aunt was the one family member he had who had never questioned his disappearance, had never been angry with him, had never resented him for not attending Ron's funeral.

Harry returned and handed the boys their beverages, and James raised his Guinness in toast. "To Ron," he said, and they all toasted their Ron and drank deeply. There was scarcely a dry eye around the table.

Even Claire, Rose noted, had tears in her eyes.

Ryan downed half his glass and motioned for the boys to go back on the stage to finish the sound check, and Rose looked around saw that, indeed, Mundy's was filling nicely. It was damn near standing room only.

Hermione was talking with Claire, Harry, and Ginny, and while everyone was animated and eager, the air of newness still hung in the air. Rose quietly excused herself to go to the restroom, and as she walked back to the ladies' room she heard a slew of voices and snippets of conversation –

"They were great last time –"

"They'd better be as good as last time–"

"Such great arses–"

– and Rose finally reached the ladies, relieved to be free of the noise and commotion.

When she left the ladies' room, the performance had already begun with James welcoming everyone to Mundy's and cracking jokes.

It took Rose the exact length of one of James' raunchier jokes to make it to the front table where her family and Claire were all sitting.

"We'll open up the set with my favorite song, actually," James said, and Ryan and Isaac laughed into their microphones. "It's not one of ours, but it tells the story of how this wonderful woman, Claire–" He nodded towards Claire, who blushed prettily – "and I met. Sort of." He grinned. "And she's just met my parents–" the crowd chuckled along with him – "so this is how we're going to start. Our song. For Claire." And then they began to play.

"I took a stroll down the old long walk

Of the day I-ay-I-ay

I met a little girl and we stopped to talk

On a fine soft day I-ay

And I ask you friends, what's a fella to do?

Cause her hair was black and her eyes were blue

And I knew right then, I'd be takin' a whirl

Down the Salthill Prom with a Galway Girl."

Claire was smiling, and Harry patted Ginny's knee as Rose looked at her mum and smiled. James was damn near giddy up on that stage.

"Let's see how suggestive he can say this line," Claire murmured suddenly as James began the second verse.

"We were halfway there when the rain came down

On the day I-ay-I-ay

She asked me up to her flat downtown

On a fine soft day I-ay" – he winked –

"And I ask you friends, what's a fella to do?

Ah, cause her hair was black and her eyes were blue

So I took her hand, and I gave her a twirl

And I lost my heart to a Galway Girl.

Oh!"

Claire was completely flushed, Rose noted, and she heard Ryan say, "Claire looks a little offended there, James," while they played the bridge.

"Aye," Isaac chimed in. "Claire's not that kind of girl, you know." The crowd laughed. "What really happened was that James was walkin' her home after one of our gigs in Amsterdam, and he tripped over his own two feet and twisted his ankle." The crowd roared. "So Claire, who is this wee pipsqueak of a thing, had to drag him up the stairs by herself and get him on the couch with ice on his foot."

"Levicorpus," Claire muttered, and their entire table burst out laughing as James, still grinning, continued the song.

"So when I woke up I was all alone

With a broken heart and a ticket home

And I ask you now, oh what would you do?

Oh, if her hair was black and her eyes were blue

You see, I've traveled around; I've been all over the world

Boys, I've never seen nothin' like a Galway girl!"

Everyone cheered wildly as the boys finished playing out the song, and they quickly launched into their next tune, another cover about an urge for going...

*

Everyone talked and laughed and enjoyed each other's company as well as James, Ryan, and Isaac's company during their breaks. They had incredible stamina, Rose thought. There were clearly many long shows ahead in their future.

*

The band stopped playing around half past eleven, and everyone talked and helped them pack everything up. "My least favorite part of playing this sort of venue," James muttered to Rose. "No magic."

*

Around two in the morning, the raucous, jovial, ever-so intoxicated group of Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Rose, Claire, James, Ryan, and Isaac got the boot with the rest of the stragglers.

*

Harry and Ginny went to their home in the countryside and slept like spoons, content and resting easy for the first time in months.

*

Ryan went to Isaac's flat in London and crashed on the sofa while Isaac barely stumbled to the bed.

*

Claire slept nestled in James' arms on his sofa, where they had continued talking after returning to his flat.

*

Rose stripped herself bare and slid in between the cool blue sheets, completely exhausted, pleasantly tipsy, and eager for sleep.

*

Hermione did not sleep, for there was a letter awaiting her when she returned home.

*

Liner Notes:

Please listen to this version of "Galway Girl"– it's my favorite and is the one that I used when writing the scene with the band. Read the scene with the song while listening to see where the interlude dialogue fits in!

Also, the pub is obviously named after the artist.

I sincerely hope that you all enjoyed this chapter.