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Hermione was walking about Muggle London with Ginny while she pushed James and Albus in the stroller, enjoying spending time with her godson and nephew. Her best friend was four months along with her third child. Their friend group had a betting pool on whether Potter Kid 3 would be a boy or a girl. Most of the bets were on a girl but Hermione had a sneaky suspicion that it was another boy. After all, there were 6 Weasley boys and Harry’s family line had more boys than girls.
Some days her heart would ache with jealousy as she watched the Potters interact as a family. Other days she woke up in tears, sometimes screaming as if she could feel something being ripped from her. The dreams of a crying infant tore at her heart the most yet she couldn’t understand why. Perhaps her subconscious was remembering something from the war. Or maybe it held onto a horror film she’d watched with the Slytherins one night. Merlin, did she hate horror movies as she was pretty sure Theodore did it on purpose or used it as an excuse to cuddle with his latest boy toy.
“Daddy!” Hermione looked over her shoulder to see a small boy with curly blonde hair toodle over to . . . Malfoy. Tears were in the small boy’s eyes as she spotted a blob of blue ice cream on the ground.
“That’s a rare sighting,” Ginny conspirately whispered to Hermione. “Scorpius is rarely seen out and about, even though he’s the same age as Albus. Malfoy keeps his son out of the prying eyes of the press, which explains why he’s in Muggle London.”
Hermione watched as Malfoy kissed away his son’s tears. Her head started to pound as flashes of random images began to flood her. She could hear Ginny calling her name as her body connected with the harsh cement ground. Grey eyes floated into her field of vision as he body started to convulse. Soon all she knew was darkness.