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Wrong Questions

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Swearing softly, she tried to hide her face. She had only agreed to split up because they’d promised her they wouldn’t be long. But they were late. The reporters, however, had arrived early.

“There she is!” one reporter yelled.

“It’s true; she’s back!”

They rushed her like a herd of hippogriffs, surrounding her on the platform.

“Hermione Granger!”

Hermione forced a stiff smile, prompting a dozen camera flashes.

“Where have you been all of this time?” one reporter demanded.

“Abroad,” Hermione replied curtly.

“But where exactly?” another pressed.

“Here and there.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Do you know where Harry Potter is?”

“And Ronald Weasley?”

“Are they alive?”

“Yes,” she said simply.

“Where are they?”

Glancing wearily at the station’s clock, “They’ll be arriving shortly."

There was a collective gasp at this bit of news, followed by a growing murmur of excitement.

“Why did you return after nineteen years?”

“To see my children off,” Hermione replied. “A witch’s first day at Hogwarts is very special.”

There were more murmurs. “Children?”

Cameras scanned about, searching for younger versions of Hermione. And then froze in stunned amazement when Harry Potter walked onto the platform. In one hand he held a bag, the other, the hand of a pretty little girl with long wild auburn hair and startling green eyes. She stared daringly at the crowd, pulling Harry along. Harry gave Hermione an affectionate smile that quickly turned into a scowl for the reporters.

Another loud gasp broke out when Ronald Weasley appeared a moment later. He, too, was holding a bag and the hand of a child who bore a striking resemblance to the first girl, only her hair was raven and much tamer, and her eyes were crystal blue.

Hermione smiled and leaned over to hug both girls.

“Sorry we’re late, Mum; Rose broke something in Ollivander's,” the raven-haired girl explained.

“I did not, Lily! It was the wand, not me!”

“Oh, fraternal twins! They’re lovely!” one female reporter gushed.

“Thank you,” Hermione said guardedly.

A tentative moment of silence full of expectant questions hung in the air.

Finally, one reporter asked, “So, who’s the father? Potter or Weasley?”

An anxious chuckle spread among the crowd.

Hermione pursed her lips as a reporter bent down to speak to Rose.

“Hi, little one. Rose, is it? Is this your daddy, Rose?” he asked, pointing at Harry.

Rose smirked. “Yes.”

Hermione gave her daughter a cheeky smile.

“So you married Potter, then?” the reporter questioned.

Hermione smiled. “Yes, I did.”

More cameras flashed.

Ron cleared his throat. “You lot should have the propriety to let the children have a final moment with their parents!” he chastised, giving the nearby station guard a meaningful look.

“All right everyone, back up! Leave these people alone,” the guard ordered, shooing the reporters away.

Lily glanced up at Ron and then Hermione. “Mum, why didn’t they ask about both of our daddies?”

“Because, Lily, reporters are stupid.” Rose sighed as her three parents smiled in amusement.