The Witch and The Hunters

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

Page count: 14

"Can we go to the pool outside?" James asked as they walked.

"I suppose so," Hermione said, "but only if you put on your sun cream. We don't want any of you getting burnt."

"Why don't you just use magic?" he countered.

"We're in the Muggle World, James. I can't risk people seeing me magically slathering sun cream on you—or using a protection charm. We have to do things the Muggle way."

"Alright," he sighed, accepting the logic with all the enthusiasm of a man twice his age.

They reached the entrance of the outdoor swimming baths soon after. James and Albus went with Dean and Sam to the men's changing room while Hermione took Lily to the women's. They regrouped at the gate leading into the huge pool area—slides, fountains, lounge chairs, and enough children to raise Hermione's blood pressure.

Dean's gaze landed on Hermione and lingered, appreciative and confused all at once. She'd glamoured her scars—every one—so the kids wouldn't ask questions she wasn't ready to answer. She'd done the same to Dean and Sam without them noticing.

She was in a simple black bikini, hair tied up in a messy bun. Lily wore a pink frilled bathing suit. James had picked black swim trunks to match Dean, and Albus—blue, like Sam. Hermione had noticed immediately and bit back a grin.

"Armbands first," she said, catching James by the arm just as he tried to sprint for the water. "Safety."

"Fine," he grumbled, holding still as she secured the armbands on him, then on Albus—who bolted for the pool the second she lifted her hands off him.

"I'll go," Sam said with a snort, jogging after them before they mowed down innocent bystanders.

Hermione circled the pool until she found three empty lounge chairs. She set towels down, then perched on one and placed Lily in front of her, gently smearing sun cream over her pale skin.

"Where are your scars?" Dean asked as he walked up, brow furrowed.

"I covered them with magic so no one would see them."

"Why?" His frown deepened.

"I'm not ashamed of my body, Dean," she said softly. "I did it for the children. They're too young to understand what the war cost us. Too young to understand the sacrifices we still make. If they saw my scars, they'd ask questions—and I don't want them forming opinions about creatures based on what happened to me. They need to grow up able to choose their own beliefs, not inherit ours."

Dean stared at her for a long moment, something warm flickering across his features. "You surprise me more and more every day."

She grinned. "Good. Means I'm keeping you on your toes."

"You always do, sweetheart." He leaned down and kissed her before turning to Lily. "So, Lily Petal—"

Lily giggled on cue.

"—Should we go swimming?"

"I go spl-as' too!" she chirped.

"Brilliant idea," he grinned, scooping her up. "Let's go find Uncle Sammy."

Hermione leaned back on the lounge chair, letting the sun warm her as Dean carried Lily off. She watched him stealthily tiptoe up behind Sam in the shallow end, Lily clinging to him like a tiny koala. He motioned for James and Albus to stay quiet.

Hermione immediately pulled out her camera—glamoured to look perfectly Muggle—and waited.

Dean shifted Lily onto his hip, counted down silently—