She supposed that they should probably be getting home soon; even if they didn’t have any of the kids waiting for them back at Grimmauld Place, it wouldn’t be wise to loiter too long in public when Harry and Minerva were as recognizable as they were. Anyone who supported the Minister would more than likely be suspicious of any long conversation between the group, trying to eavesdrop enough to bring back details to the man. Hermione didn’t see too many people around the shop, but they could always be just out of sight. At home, she could talk with Harry about how they could help Minerva, as the three of them really did need to get together sometime to talk about everything. Perhaps the Order even needed to have a small meeting just to see what everyone was doing and what they thought about everything that was going on. One never knew when the group could figure out something to do to help, though it certainly wasn’t coming to that kind of extreme just yet. Hermione laughed at Harry’s comment and Minerva’s reply, wishing that they could all just say what they meant without worrying about who was around them. She shot her husband a mockingly reproachful look, “One day you’ll believe me when I say you can find anything in a book,” she said, lightly, shaking her head. Even after all these years, she did think that most if not all problems could be solved if one found the right topic to research. In this particular situation, Hermione hadn’t yet narrowed down on what to be looking into, as it had seemed as though the prejudices toward Muggleborns had just switched right off to the general distaste toward purebloods. Could there ever be a time when everyone was just truly equal? It shouldn’t be this challenging, in her opinion.

“Oh, of course, we don’t want to keep you,” she agreed, nodding. It was clear that they all understood the importance of talking at a later time, and they would have to make sure that it would be sooner rather than later. “Yes, you should come over for dinner sometime,” Hermione said, smiling, before making a face, “My cooking has improved… slightly—and you can tell us what ridiculous pranks Liam has been pulling,” she added, disapprovingly. Apparently the troublemaking Potter gene was a dominant one, and Liam possessed it in spades. But she did hope that Minerva could find a time to come over so that they could actually talk all of this through without having to disguise the meaning of everything they were saying.

It was always pleasant running into his old professor, not that he would actually verbalize that. He had greatly appreciated the woman for all that she had done throughout his life, becoming someone that he really admired. There was no greater person to take the late Headmaster’s position than this woman here and he was glad that his and Hermione’s children got a chance to be at school with her. They would certainly learn quite a lot from her, if only they listened. Though, he couldn’t blame them if they didn’t because it wasn’t like he or Ron necessarily listened to everything she had said, if all that much. Well, they listened well enough in class to know that they would need to convince Hermione it was in everyone’s best interest if she leant them her notes, not that she really ever did.

Harry knew that he and Hermione would be involved in this war one way or another. They had to practically lead the last war, but that was a burden he willingly took. Now, they weren’t exactly necessary in this war, but at the same time, Harry felt that they were. There was no way they could sit back and watch the world tear itself apart…there was no way he could do that. But they could defeat whatever this was without bloody books….well, at least he and Ron could sit on the sidelines and wait for them to figure it out through the books. “Her pasta won’t kill you, really,” Harry said seriously, though it was clear that it was meant teasingly. He made a face at Hermione’s inquisition of Liam and his prank pulling, wondering if it was time to pass down some of the Potter fun gadgets and a particular cloak to their son. “Good luck with them,” he grinned to the Headmistress.

Minerva always enjoyed seeing her old students out and about. It was always nice to see what time had done for them though it wasn’t always so pleasant. It seemed like those days it was more likely than not that she ran into former students who were very much down on their luck, being attacked for their blood status or their family’s involvement in the last war. Former students like Draco Malfoy who had made a terrific turnaround was now under fire again just as his family was. She wasn’t sure just what he had been up to, but she could only assume it wasn’t good. Minister Durant was knocking everything out of balance again, and she would be willing to bet anything that there would be another war on the horizon all courtesy of the man.

”Dinner would be lovely.” Minerva answered with a soft smile able to easily tell that Hermione knew exactly what was going through her head, though that was not a shock in the slightest and was quite the relief that there was no need to verbalize anything further. ”I’m sure it will be just fine. I’d watch it Mister Potter, you have to go home with her.” She added with a soft genuine smile. The Headmistress paused for a moment thinking over if she had heard of anything big about the Potter boys. ”They haven’t gotten into too much trouble as of yet. But I don’t envy their head of house in the future.” She said stifling a light laugh. ”Well, I will hopefully see you both in the near future I’m probably needed back at the school already with the rowdy lot I have there.” She said with a gentle nod.

Although she never stopped trying, Hermione really could not get the hang of cooking—Merlin knew why. She was excellent at Potions, and what was cooking if not… a less complicated version of potions? But she had always known she had been bad at cooking, even when she was younger and her parents had tried to teach her and that was prior to her even knowing about magic or potions. So back then, she really had just thought that she was just going to be bad at cooking, something that obviously didn’t sit well with her perfectionist nature. But then potions had come around, and she’d excelled at that, and Hermione further didn’t understand how she could mix a potion for exactly five and a half minutes counterclockwise, adding in a clockwise stir every fifteen seconds and still couldn’t successfully make a chicken that wasn’t dry. Perhaps she would be better off using magic to help her, but she always stubbornly tried to stick to purely Muggle cooking. Hermione made a face at Harry before smiling, finally turning her gaze back to her former professor. “I did make pasta once and Harry thought he was going to die—it was touch and go for a minute, but he survived,” she said, her smile widening. She knew that she had come a long way from getting frustrated and agitated at not being able to cook as she had when she was younger, accepting that she might just honestly always be bad at it. Not that it would stop her from continuing to try. Harry could always cook, that way they would all be sure to make it through the night alive.

If the kids weren’t getting into trouble, Hermione could only assume that they were being sly… as she had no doubt that they had gotten another care package from George before returning to the school after the Easter holidays. Perhaps they just hadn’t used it yet, and though she could hope that they never would, she did know better. “That’s good to hear,” she replied, nodding. She knew that Harry found their prank playing amusing, and she really didn’t mind it at home, she just didn’t want Minerva to be subjected to it at school with everything else going on. Though, she supposed she was certainly used to it. “Yes, I hope we’ll see you around soon.” Hermione added, knowing that it was probably time to head home as well.

It was kind of strange to think about how long it had been since he had known the professor, being introduced to the woman when he was eleven. Now, his and Hermione’s children were going through school with the woman as their Headmistress instead of as their Transfiguration professor. It was nice to fondly remember their old Headmaster, though he wondered if the man died in vein sometimes. Now, the world that the man had fought so hard to balance out, was quickly falling apart again. Harry knew that he was no longer the Chosen One, thank bloody Merlin, but he really hated feeling useless. It certainly hadn’t been something he was used to, especially not when he was younger. Now, they were bloody sitting ducks. They couldn’t sit for-bloody-ever, and would need to actually start doing something, not reading books.

Harry shrugged at the Headmistress’s statement, grinning innocently to Hermione. He laughed at her response about their children, grinning almost proudly before hiding his mouth behind his hand before he was caught being proud over the fact that soon, their Head of House was going to be in for it. It was well past time for the children to have a bit of fun, enjoying it while they could. “The pasta didn’t stand a chance against the chosen one,” he shrugged, puffing out his chest in a joking manner. It wasn’t like he was arrogant in thinking he had been the chosen one; that had simply been what he had been called for too long, a joke of sorts. “Well, cheerio,” Harry stated, hoping that Hermione was ready to leave the book shop as well, glancing towards the exit.

Minerva looked fondly over the couple, feeling a brief sadness come over her. They had been through enough. They hadn’t even had a proper childhood as they spent the entirety of their years at Hogwarts trying to save the school or world in one way or another. Yes, Harry had been dubbed ‘the chosen one’ but he had deserved more. She was still put off with Dumbledore leaving the boy on the door step of those terrible muggle relatives. Dumbledore was a brilliant man, anyone who had spoken to him would know that, but at times she really had questioned his judgment. Harry had been able to overcome everything thrown at him, though if it were not for Hermione she feared things wouldn’t have gone nearly as well. She had been the brains behind the operation and everyone was well aware of that, but Harry had been just as important for obvious reasons. He had grown into a remarkable man and auror. She was so very proud of him even if she never said it out loud. He was very much like a son to her in many ways.

She shook her head with a small smile on her face. ”The smartest witch of her generation is thwarted by muggle pasta? I would have never guessed.” She said in good nature before turning to Harry with a scowl. ”Was that really necessary Mister Potter?” She asked in a stern voice falling back into her usual persona. To her she still didn’t find the humor in it. She had been worried terribly even if she never showed it. She sighed and rubbed her forehead before setting her book back in place and straightening her robes. ”I’ll send an owl to let you know when I am free. I hope to see you both in the near future. Have a good rest of your day.” She said with a gentle smile before leaning over and squeezing Harry’s shoulder gently. She did the same to Hermione before turning around and heading out the door.

It seemed like there was nothing that they could do in order to attempt to make things better in the wizarding world, though Hermione knew that wasn’t the case. There had to be something that could be done, and she knew that Harry felt the same way in wanting to figure out just what could be done. Sitting around and doing nothing wasn’t something that they had ever really done; Harry had always found himself in situations and she liked to think that she had made sure to always be there for him when those situations arose. Now, it seemed like something else was about to happen, something that needed to be stopped if only they could figure out how to do it. Unfortunately, she was seeing the noticeable difference in trying to help as teenagers and trying to help now. They had other responsibilities now, their children first and foremost and that required money, which required work. Working in the Muggle Liaison office obviously wasn't all that helpful in trying to sort out what was going on in the wizarding, but it did bring in funds, clearly. She wasn't the type to be a stay-at-home mum even if Harry had a well-paying job and money from his parents. Obviously she wanted to make her own contribution. But their children, and everyone else that they wanted to keep safe, could be in just as much danger in the future if they did nothing. It simply was a situation where they knew they had to act, but they didn’t quite know what to do.

“Everyone has their downfalls,” she said, with a shrug, an amused expression on her face. Hers just happened to be cooking, though luckily Harry could cook so it wasn’t like they had to rely on her questionable skills very often. When they did, the results were normally… not that great at all. Hermione rolled her eyes at her husband’s statement, though the corners of her lips quirked up into a small smile. It was something that he said in jest, and even though the situation had been absolutely terrifying when it had been happening, he was no longer the ‘chosen one’ technically, so she was able to find the humor in the moniker. “You too,” Hermione replied with a smile, before glancing back at Harry once their former professor had walked away. “Ready?” She asked, raising her eyebrow. She originally had wanted to look around for some books, but it was getting rather late to drag him around the shop and she would much rather head for home anyhow.

-END OF THREAD-