Fred's plans for lightening the mood were upstaged by someone else.
Of course, Valen didn't know this and thus enthusiastically led the Grangers on a tour of the rooms. "I remember the last time I came here, the house was built on a cliff," Mr. Granger said, still shaken.
"That was a mistake," Felix reminisced, "There were a lot of seabirds nesting there."
"I thought it was because the front door faced the cliff," Mr. Granger said. No, Felix thought, that was the essence of the design, he had placed two chairs at the entrance facing the sea, but cleaning bird droppings was a big problem. The indecent number of birds was just too much.
Mrs. Granger stared blankly at Valen's crib, which held an assortment of Valen's gear, little hats, action cloaks, a special wand, and bedtime storybooks.
"Quite prepared," she said with a peculiar expression.
Hermione chimed in actively, "There used to be an aquarium—" "With little fish?" Mr. Granger asked curiously. "Oh, uh," Hermione suddenly became a bit flustered, "You know the Selma Lake Monster? It looks somewhat similar, just smaller..."
Mr. Granger mumbled noncommittally, "I read in the newspaper it was depressed, struggling to adapt."
"Maybe it's homesick, Norway is quite far from here," Felix mused.
"That makes sense," Mr. Granger agreed.
During dinner, Felix and Hermione introduced the Grangers to numerous island attractions, while the Grangers mentioned recent changes in London, "Many are waiting to watch the broadcast." "It's the same here. The stadium has been improved several times, can only accommodate five hundred thousand people, and that's with magic. So, some people can only watch one or two matches, but the festival during the World Cup is indeed not bad..."
After a satisfying meal and lazy chat, Mr. Granger stood up from the dining table and approached the living room window.
"What's this?" he inquired with interest, examining a beautifully shaped thin-necked bottle on the shelf, with a thin layer of sand at the bottom. He was sure these silver grains were mixed with some interesting magic; they seemed to breathe.
"It's a memory," Hermione walked over and said, picking up a grain of sand. The bottle stopper automatically opened, and the silver sand slid down the neck of the bottle, with Felix and Hermione's shadows fleeting by.
"Did you go to a grave?" Mr. Granger asked in surprise, he could vaguely see a tombstone but couldn't make out the inscription.
"Hmm," Hermione said softly, "We went to see someone... someone very complicated."
It was Grindelwald's chosen place of seclusion. One day, while Felix was studying temporal magic, he saw Grindelwald's final days in a mirror and suggested to Hermione they visit. The surrounding scenery was pleasant. They erected a monument and then magically concealed it.
When Hermione and Mr. Granger returned to the dining room, bringing some desserts, Felix and Mrs. Granger were still chatting. Hermione sat down next to him. "What were you talking about?" Mrs. Granger immediately stopped talking. Felix grabbed Hermione's hand and started writing in her palm. Hermione strained to recognize, the first letter was B, the second A, and before the third could be completed, her cheeks flushed red.
"We're not in a hurry to have children, sixty is not too late to start," Felix said with a straight face.
The Grangers gasped. Hermione glared at him, "Of course we won't wait until sixty."
"We can help look after the child," Mrs. Granger eagerly said, still haunted by the terrifying echo 'sixty... sixty...' She nudged her husband with her elbow, and Mr. Granger said seriously, "Yes, since you're usually busy..."
"Felix and I have seriously discussed this matter, just recently," Felix said.
"But there's not a single parenting book in your study," Mrs. Granger pointed out.
"There is, actually," Felix said, winking. At that moment, Valen called out from the couch, pulling out a 'Parenting Manual' from its pocket and a pair of glasses to put on, pretending to read.
The Grangers were dumbfounded.
"You're—You're planning to let a Niffler raise your child?"
"…Wrong answer," Felix said seriously, "Valen is imitating. Haven't you noticed Valen's size is similar to a baby's? Hermione sometimes practices with it; I've seen her do it in secret…" He stopped as Hermione's finger already had 'the strength of a wild buffalo.'
"Time for after-dinner drinks!"
Felix snapped his fingers cheerfully, and immediately four cocktails and a juice appeared in the air. He pushed the juice with a straw
towards Valen, then asked enthusiastically, "Anyone want cherries or lemon slices?"
"I like cherries," Mr. Granger's attention was diverted, "Can I have a little spoon to scoop them?"
...
After settling the Grangers, Felix and Hermione lay in bed, and the room's scenery changed the moment they lay down; they were lying on grass, looking up at the blue sky and clouds, with a breeze at their feet.
"So tired."
"It's manageable, everything's under control."
"Does that include the 'Parenting Manual'?"
"Cough, my common topic with them is you. The first time we officially met, we talked about your childhood and school days, and the second time we discussed dental health issues in wizards and magical creatures, that was the most effective... because I gifted a moving dragon skull, your father seemed to like it..."
"Yes, he was so attached to it, he practically wanted to live in it," Hermione said with a laugh, "Though mum wasn't too pleased."
"That teaches us a lesson, you win some, you lose some," Felix said with a straight face. Hermione laughed so hard her hair fell, and after collecting herself, she noticed Felix staring at her earlobe, lost in thought.
"…Is it pretty?"
"As beautiful as a book of magic."
Hermione blinked.
"Mine or yours?"
"Well…"
A falling leaf drifted down from the air, Felix caught it, transforming it into a pair of earrings for Hermione to wear.
"…Now there's no need to compare."
Hermione propped herself up on Felix's chest, magical symbols spreading from her fingertips, Felix's casual attire transformed into a formal suit. She pulled Felix up from the grass, "Fancy a dance, Professor?" she asked, as the illusion shattered, and they stood at the edge of their bedroom bed.
"It's too small here." In the next second, they disappeared from the room.
After a while, Valen walked in, staring blankly at the empty bedroom. These two had run off again, where to this time? A list of secret bases flashed through his mind: desert, rainforest, under the sea, the moon, inside the floating island... But it depended on what they wanted to do. If it was a fight, a great wizard and a nearly great wizard had many options: desert, the moon, and space were all viable.
Felix and Hermione's month on Mars wasn't just spent stargazing or dryly discussing magic. As the only two wizards in the world to possess a book of magic, one of whom was on the threshold of enlightenment, the only way to corroborate magic was through hundreds of thousands of unrestrained magical exertions.
Valen huffed and sat at the doorway, pulling out the parenting book to start taking notes.
Hogwarts.
Hermione, dressed in a bright yellow evening gown, looked around wide-eyed, searching for Felix. She wandered down the stairs, and with a "puff" sound, a poltergeist floated in the air, Peeves, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at his appearance.
To her, it seemed Peeves was forced into a different outfit, somewhat like the butler attire Dobby favored, looking downcast, his wicked black eyes struggling to flash sincerity, holding an invitation in his hand.
"Lovely lady, are you lost?" he recited his lines.
"Oh, well—" Hermione pleasantly said, "Yes."
Peeves cursed under his breath, then immediately pretended to be thrilled, "What a coincidence, there's a ball nearby, if you'd like—" his expression clearly hoped Hermione would say no, but Hermione smiled and said, "Thank you, Peeves, lead the way."
Peeves hopped down the stairs, Hermione following, lifting her dress.
Approaching the hall, the melodious music faintly reached them, Hermione took a deep breath and stepped inside. The place was crowded.
"Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione exclaimed in surprise.
"I'm not sure I can accept that title," Dumbledore's memory form said cheerfully, "I was in classroom seven listening to chamber music when Felix suddenly appeared, asking if I wanted to join a ball."
Through the young face, Hermione seemed to see a wise old man with a white beard, showing a reminiscent expression, "In any case, you gave me the most important guidance, an incredible treasure for me."
"Hm?" Dumbledore's memory form sounded slightly curious.
"You told me that mastering magic and understanding oneself are equally important, and to follow my heart," Hermione softly said, Dumbledore smiled, "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." "Exactly." Hermione walked towards the center of the hall, now transformed anew, a golden dance floor extending to every guest from classroom seven, their curiosity palpable as they stepped on the floor.
Two ghosts drifted through the air.
"I heard they're preparing for the 426th Quidditch World Cup outside."
"Envy them, I attended
the 322nd…"
Felix and Hermione locked eyes across the ghosts' shadows, Felix extending a hand, leading Hermione into the dance floor. Hermione was momentarily lost, understanding this familiar feeling only as they danced together in the hall—during the fourth year's Yule Ball, at Bill and Fleur's wedding, on Mars, and two years ago at their own wedding. Each dance signified a deeper connection between them.
"How long can we dance?" Hermione whispered.
"About a thousand years," Felix said, "I think."
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