10th April 1976
The Easter weekend (or festival of Eostre for most witches and wizards) fell later in April that year, but Hogwarts had broken up for the break a few days ago. Iphemia had insisted on a family dinner for Fabian and Gideon's birthday, given that the actual day had been missed by their parents.
They'd thrown a large party the weekend before at Hogwarts, inviting the upper three years from three of the four Houses and going mad, with the excuse that it was their last year at Hogwarts and they needed to go out with a bang. Hermione had been rather less than impressed considering the literal bangs that Fred and George had left with, and had teased her brothers in private about their future nephews outdoing them. They'd pouted, but immediately started planning something that made Hermione slightly regret telling them about the Weasley twin's stunt.
Because of the party the twins had acquiesced to their mother's demands for a relaxed celebration at home easily. Only Molly and Arthur and their two children had been invited outside of the current residents of Prewett Manor. Molly was six months pregnant and huffed and puffed all morning about not being allowed to assist in the kitchen.
Iphemia rolled her eyes at her eldest, "Darling, even if you weren't pregnant you know Twinky wouldn't allow you to help. You never used to have such an issue." The three Prewett women were having a relaxed afternoon tea in the sun room at the back of the Manor, looking out onto the large back garden.
Molly huffed again, and took a sip of her tea, infused with a pregnancy-safe mild relaxation potion. "I've gotten so used to doing everything around the house myself, mother." Molly sighed.
Hermione had been completely floored the first time she'd seen Molly interacting with her parents, it was so different to how she was in the future with her children. For all that the Weasleys were seen as Muggle-loving, blood traitor, disgraces to the name of wizard, Molly had been raised in the Prewett household which swayed more towards the traditional pure-blood traditions and customs (still a far way from Houses such as the Blacks and Malfoys).
Iphemia huffed too, sounding exactly like Molly, and took a sip of her own tea, "I don't see why you won't let one of the Prewett house-elves bond to your family, love. Any of them would be happy to."
"I'm perfectly fine by myself, mother." Molly snapped, her red hair frizzing a little. Hermione silently watched the brewing argument. Molly looked so much like their father that it wasn't hard to see where the theorised genetic predisposition of the older child to resemble the father the most came in. Unlike Hermione, who upon taking the blood adoption potion had inherited most of their mother's looks and colouring - except for her eyes and the reddish tint to her hair.
"You do have a third child on the way, dear. Believe me, I know how difficult that can be." She raised an imperious eyebrow at her eldest child, who looked away and grumbled a little at the good point her mother was making.
Hermione snickered a little into her own tea, "I don't know, I can agree with Molly wanting the independence, mum."
"Oh, alright, alright." Iphemia sniffed, "But you must promise to tell me if it gets too much, love." She said with a stern look at Molly, who nodded reluctantly, looking more like a tempestuous teenager than the twenty-six year old woman she was. "Now, Hermione, tell me all about how things are going with Frank?"
Hermione winced, and avoided her mother's piercing gaze, "It's okay." Things ever since Remus' birthday had been a little awkward, and Hermione could feel Frank pulling away. They'd not talked about it before coming home for the break, and Hermione hated the uncertainty, knowing they'd have to talk about it when they got back. "It's been a little weird, but-" She trailed off, shrugging. She didn't really want to have to explain the nuances of her relationship with Frank and the spanner James' confession had thrown in the works to both her mum and older sister.
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