The Marriage Decree

Chapter 164: They'd eat bugs if you let them

Having grown up just outside of London, Hermione is more than used to the chaos of Christmas in the city. Native Londoners, who are just trying to go about their everyday lives, are often frustrated at having to weave through the millions of tourists who stroll down the famous streets and pause at every window display. Since moving away from the city after The Marriage Decree, Hermione feels more like one of the tourists than a Londoner.

Draco's hand squeezes her own as they catch up to their friends. The past week has truly tested them, clouding their relationship with grief, loss, anger and disappointment. While Hermione could see a light at the end, now that she had a plan and had admitted her struggles to her husband, she knew it was going to take a lot of time and effort before she began to recognise the version of herself she had lost over the years.

Benjamin, who has been leading the group, comes to a stop outside a small, rundown-looking bakery. Once upon a time, the bakery probably looked rather quaint, but now the daisies painted across the façade were chipped or peeling, and the windows were smeared with the city's dirt. Through the window, they could see an elderly woman hunched over, kneading and rolling out pastry dough, and a teenage girl with pink hair serving a customer.

"My grandma used to bring me here after picking me up from school every Wednesday," Benjamin smiles softly at the memory. "Mrs Quinn has owned this bakery since 1974, and she's still going strong."

"Is that her?" Pansy asks in disbelief.

"Yeah." Benjamin waves through the window at the old woman, who blows him a kiss and waves back. "What do you want? My treat!" He offers.

Scorpius looks to his mother from atop Blaise's shoulders, "T'oclate after lunch."

Hermione chuckles, "Yes, we've had lunch, so you can have some chocolate."

"Yay!" The toddler cheers, clapping his hands.

"I know the perfect thing," Benjamin promises the boy.

"You know what I want too." Blaise winks at his fiance.

"Of course." Benjamin rolls his eyes fondly. "What about you two?" He looks at Hermione.

"I'll have an almond croissant," Draco begins, looking at his wife as he adds, "And Hermione will have the toffee Danish."

Her face lights up, pleasantly surprised that her husband knows her favourite pastry, when they very rarely treat themselves to such delicacies. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, Draco chuckles, wrapping his arm around her.

"And Pansy?" Benjamin turns to the woman, still staring at all the pastries and their names in the window display.

"They all look so good," she mutters. "Just get me whatever's best."

Benjamin shares a glance with Blaise, unsure what to do. "Is there anything you don't like?"

"No, I like everything," Pansy says, her shoulders tense.

"Get her a cinnamon roll," Blaise says.

"Are they good?"

"The best," Blaise assures her, reaching out to squeeze her arm reassuringly.

Feeling herself blush, Pansy pulls her arm away, rougher than intended, and walks over to a nearby bench. She hates how quickly she embarrasses herself here. In Diagon Alley, she knows the rules of life. Here, she feels the eyes of muggles, scrutinising her every move and word, ready to call her a fraud for daring to step foot outside of her comfort zone.

Behind her, she can hear her friends muttering, most likely about her, but she ignores them. Instead, she watches the twinkling of the Christmas lights strung from building to building across the road. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches as Hermione takes a seat beside her. When it becomes apparent her friend isn't going to say anything, Pansy turns towards her.