Much later, Hermione sat in Ron’s old reclining chair while she caught up with her friends. They’d enjoyed dinner, Pansy arriving not long after Loki had left. Now, they were sipping on tea and eating biscuits for dessert. The mood in the room was jovial, each lady taking their turn holding Gwyneira and cooing over her beauty. Hermione had never felt more content, more at peace, but for some reason there was a strange niggling at the far recesses of her mind that wouldn’t let up. Biting her lip, she glanced over at her work bag where the research regarding the prophecy on her daughter, herself, and that third unknown person was currently hidden.