Children Know Best
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Summary: Several years after Hogwarts graduation, Draco and Hermione are horrified to find out that their children are best friends. The worst part (or best, for the author's plot need)? They're both single parents.
A/N: Yet another fic…but I got the idea, and I just couldn't control the urge to write. So give it a shot.
In the wee hours of the morning, Hermione Granger dressed in her Mediwitch robes and walked tiredly down to the small kitchen of her tiny London flat for a cup of much needed coffee. Lately her job had been rather stressful; she had been promoted from a simple healer to the spokeswoman for the entire operation. She enjoyed her new job, as she visited wizard schools all over the world in hopes of recruiting some seventh years (or seniors, or finishing school graduates) into the wonderful world of healing.
Today she was particularly excited. Today, she would visit her favorite school of the lot—Hogwarts. Whenever Hermione thought of Hogwarts a simple smile played on her lips and she was immediately immersed in all the good memories. Of course, there was the offhanded bit about Voldemort and Snape and Malfoy and all those other school obstacles that everyone dealt with, but for the most part, Hogwarts had been a rather happy time.
Not only was she about to make an interesting trip to Hogwarts, she was also going to see the pride of her life. She had been both disappointed and pleased when she had learned that he had the second-highest marks ever during his first year of Hogwarts, because the only marks he hadn't been able to beat were her own. Hermione smiled thoughtfully as she thought of her son, Chase Granger, now in his third year at Hogwarts. It had been rather disheartening that he hadn't made very many friends in his first and second year (she knew he was a bit bossy, but honestly, weren't there any Harry and Ron types out there that would see past that tiny barrier?) but Hermione hoped that when she saw him later today, at the point where he was half-way through third year, he would have at least someone to go around with.
He was her son after all, and Grangers were the type of people that had the win-win motto. He could do it. She'd make him do it. He just had to push himself, work a little bit harder, and he would have everything perfect in his life.
Hermione couldn't understand why Harry and Ron, his godfathers, said she pushed the poor kid a little too hard. She wasn't one of those controlling, perfectionist mothers, was she?
All right, well maybe a little bit.
Hermione finished up coffee and straightened out her conservative blouse before Flooing herself into Hogwarts. Unfortunately the ride was not as smooth as she wished; due to her excitement, she accidentally ended up sprawled across Professor Dumbledore's office and Fawkes glared at her quite prudishly. Grinning sheepishly, she hastily got up and brushed off imaginary pieces of dirt. Hermione prided herself on always being best at everything, and appearances mattered, to some degree.
That didn't mean that her hair wasn't long and frizzy (well, relatively less, because of the length, but it still slightly resembled a cat's coughed up hairball) and that she only wore make-up on very special occasions. That didn't mean that her clothes weren't relatively conservative and it certainly didn't mean that she was a soccer mom, heaven forbid.
Before she could have any more thoughts, Professor Dumbledore was greeting her warmly. "Miss Granger, what a pleasure," he said. Hermione smiled brightly, happy to see her old headmaster, who looked rather healthy although undoubtedly had grown much older since Hermione's time at Hogwarts. "It's been a while," he said and Hermione nodded. "Yes. Twenty years since I graduated, at least," and the two of them were amazed at the extraordinary lapse of time and how quickly it had seemed to go by.
"All right, then, shall I give my talk to the seventh years?" Hermione began briskly.
"Lovely. But I do sense you want to meet a certain third year before you do so?" Professor Dumbledore said, with those clichéd and expected twinkling eyes.
Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "I think it's nearly breakfast time, isn't it? I'll meet with him then, I don't want him missing any classes, he should pay proper attention, especially in Potions and Transfiguration, and I made him take Arithmancy so he must liste—"
Professor Dumbledore cut her off gently. "Breakfast sounds fine. Why don't you go meet him at the Ravenclaw table? I believe you know where it is?"
Hermione nodded and made her way out of the Professor's office and into the Great Hall. She'd been a little surprised when she'd received his Owl that he had been sorted into Ravenclaw—she'd been expecting Gryffindor, after all—but no matter, he was a smart boy, and cunning too. Unfortunately, he'd also informed her that Gryffindor hadn't even been on the Sorting Hat's agenda…apparently the Sorting Hat had had a difficult time choosing between Ravenclaw and Slytherin of all things; thankfully, the choosy hat had picked Ravenclaw. Hermione shuddered. She loved Chase, but having him in Slytherin would be rather odd, to say in the least.
Her heart filled with warmth when she located her son amid the chaos, and it leapt even more so when she realized he was talking quite animatedly with a blonde girl who looked to be about his age. Had he made friends then? How lovely!
Before going up to him, Hermione simply studied her son. She was selfishly pleased that he had inherited more of her traits than his father's, her ex-husband Viktor Krum. She had made the biggest mistake of her life marrying the grumpy git; he was just too moody and she had finally called it off four years ago. Chase had his mother's brown eyes but his father's black hair, and Hermione noted gleefully that both the shape of his nose and lips were that of hers. Hah, she thought childishly, I beat you, Viktor.
"Chase," she called breathlessly as she made her way over to him. "Hello, sweetie," she said, giving his hand a squeeze.
"Mum!" he replied, looking mortified and pulling his hand away. Hermione quickly withdrew her hand as well. She had promised that she would never become one of those embarrassing mothers that did just about everything to have their children die socially, and here she was, fueling along the process.
"Sorry," she said, giving him a smile. "I'm here to give the talks to the seventh years. Isn't that lovely? I thought I'd stop by."
Chase, the affectionate child that he was, quickly forgave his mother. The blonde girl next to him laughed. "Chase, you're such a pansy," she teased.
Hermione beamed. Was her son finally making friends? "And who is this?" she asked, smiling at the pretty young girl.
Chase grinned. "Mum, meet my best friend—"
The girl cut him off. "It's a pleasure, Ms. Granger. I'm Ivy Malfoy."
Hermione's smile faded and she felt weak. "Ah," she said intelligently. She felt herself pale at the very thought…her son…mingling…no, friends…was it best friends he had said…with a Malfoy? Oh, blimey, that wasn't good…but maybe she wasn't really the daughter of that prat she went to school with; Malfoy had cousins, after all… "Ivy. What a pretty name," she found herself saying monotonously. "Perhaps I knew your parents?"
"Oh, did you?" the girl asked, her eyes gleaming excitedly. "Well I live with my dad, Draco Malfoy, but my mum was…" But Hermione had stopped listening, somewhere between Draco and Malfoy. Who could imagine that stupid bloke having children? And of course Hermione's dirty side took over and she felt herself blushing at the process of conceiving a child.
"Mum?" Chase was asking. "You alright?"
Malfoy had a kid…oh, hell, Malfoy had a kid…oh hell, she was best friends with Chase…oh hell.
A/N: Now, before everyone asks me why this is in humor, let me explain. While I don't intend it to be laugh-laugh funny like The Bachelor or Ember's Island, I'm going for lighthearted versus dramatic and heavy. But I will try and put in some laugh moments, sooner or later…like next chapter, when we see Draco's side…and how exactly he deals with a teenage daughter. Snicker. Expect updates soon, when I start a story I always update it in a mad frenzy before leaving it to rot for a bit. Reviews help influence the quickness of updates.
Please Review! I want to know how the first chapter turned out. If it stunk, then I really shouldn't continue. But let me know.