"I need you to set me up on a date."

Hermione, who was prepping carrots, almost chopped her finger off in the complete shock of my 'out of the ordinary' request.

"What? Oh, Etta - finally!" Hermione's face beamed, "I honestly don't think I've ever felt so excited!"

Poor Ron.

"I don't care with whom," I said, peeling the potatoes next to her. "I just need a male, same-ish age, not a complete idiot, and most importantly - not married."

"Not being funny, Etta," Ron muttered, tossing his empty mug carelessly into the sink, making me wince. "But there's not many of them left at our age."

"Well, there must be one unmarried, non-idiot out there, surely?"

Shit. I knew it. I had left it too long. I was going to die all alone and surrounded by cats.

And I fucking hated cats.

It was Sunday, and Ron and Hermione were helping me to prepare lunch in my kitchen. Albus, along with Scorpius, Rose, and Hugo, were all outside in the garden, making the most of the fine, sunny weather.

"Well..." Hermione said pensively, "there may be someone I know from the Ministry who'd be willing to date you. He's single, slightly older, and seems rather eligible."

"And just who is this eligible bachelor that you've obviously taken notice of, Hermione?" Ron retorted furiously, slamming the fridge door behind him as he helped himself to a beer.

Hermione rolled her eyes, sighing heavily as she threw the chopped carrots into the saucepan.

"For Etta, Ronald. And it's about time she stopped moping over You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort?!" Ron spluttered.

"No - the other Dark Lord," Hermione muttered.

"Oh, him," Ron nodded darkly. "Well. It's about bloody time. The ferret never was good enough for her."

"You know, I'm right here." I muttered, scraping the potatoes into a pan full of spitting fat.

"Speaking of which," Ron said, dropping his voice as he looked over his shoulder, "how is it having his other mini-me under your roof?"

It had only been a couple of days since Draco had dropped Scorpius off, and already I had grown to love him. He was good for Albus, he made him happy. Scorpius was sensitive, funny, and kind. He lacked that mean streak that his father always had. I could only guess that he took after his mother. Astoria.

"Scorp is actually a lovely, polite, friendly house guest," I answered truthfully, "and it's a pleasure to have him here."

"Blimey, are you sure he's Malfoy's?"

"You could probably say the same about Albus," I muttered under my breath.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look, involving highly raised eyebrows, which did not go unnoticed by me.

"What? What was that look for?" I asked indignantly.

"It's just that- well... Albus does have a tendency to- to... you know..." Hermione tailed off, going beetroot red under my furious glare.

"What Hermione is trying to say, Etta," Ron spoke loudly, "is that Albus can be a bit grumpy, stubborn, surly and stuck up. In other words, he's a startling accurate combination of you and Malfoy."

"Ron!" Hermione gasped.

"What?" Ron shrugged, belching on his beer. "I'm just stating facts."

"It's not his fault!" I said defensively, throwing knives and forks noisily down on the table. "He's just struggling to find his place at Hogwarts at the moment. He'll be fine once he makes more friends."

Ron and Hermione exchanged another look which I made a point of ignoring. I did not need reminding that I was failing miserably as a parent.

"Anyway," I continued, keen to change the subject, "tell me more about this eligible bachelor, Hermione."

"Oh, yes!" Hermione trilled, her face lighting up at once. "His name is Tony Tripp, and he works in the Department of Magical Transportation."

"Oh, I know Tripp," Ron scoffed, "He was in Perce's year at Hogwarts. Hufflepuff. Bit of a prat if I'm to be honest, Etta."

"But is he good looking?" I asked, needing to get my priorities in order.

Hermione's blush told me everything I needed to know.

"Set me up with him then. As soon as possible."

*****

A short while later, we were all sat around my kitchen table, tucking into a hearty roast dinner.

"Wow, this food is even better than what they serve up at Hogwarts!" Scorpius gushed, sawing enthusiastically into a burnt Yorkshire pudding.

Hermione and I both beamed across the table at him, whilst Ron just sat there, eyeing him suspiciously as he stuffed a Brussel sprout in his mouth.

"Why, thank you Scorp, I'm glad you are enjoying it," I said proudly. I could not help but notice Albus's sulky expression next to him.

"Do you eat roast dinners at home at all, Scorpius?" Hermione enquired, regarding him with great interest.

Scorpius shrugged. "We don't really have family dinners. Mum's usually too tired to come downstairs and then it's just Dad and me, so we usually order a pizza or something and eat it wherever."

"Oh," Hermione said, her jaw dropping open in horror before quickly composing herself. "Well, that's nice too... I suppose,"

Poor Scorpius. I could only imagine that Draco was not really one for small talk with his son at the dinner table. No wonder he wanted him to come and stay here for a break.

"I'm going to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team!" Rose announced suddenly at the far end of the table as Hugo, through a mouthful of food, roared "Go Gryffindor!" spraying potato everywhere.

"That's my girl," Ron cheered, pumping his fork into the air. "Both me and your Aunt Etta were the team's hot shots back in the day."

"You mean I was," I corrected, smirking smugly at Ron. "I was the youngest player to get on the team ever. And I caught the Snitch in my mouth. Seekers don't come much better than that."

"Wow!" Scorpius exclaimed impressively before turning to my son. "Albus, your mum is so cool! I can't believe she caught the Snitch in her mouth!"

Albus said nothing and just scowled.

"Yeah, your dad wasn't too pleased about that," I smirked again as Scorpius looked on at me in complete awe. "In fact, he and I were huge rivals on the pitch; both playing Seeker for our teams. You should have seen the dirty tricks he used to play just so that he wouldn't lose to a girl."

I chuckled, remembering how furious Draco would get to the point of tears. I briefly wondered what he was doing right at that moment whilst I sat having lunch with his sons, and I was hit by a sudden wave of guilt and sadness at the thought of him nursing his dying wife.

I grabbed my wine, knocking it back in my attempt to disguise my sudden attack of despondency.

"You should go to try-outs, Scorpius," Hermione suggested. "I'm sure your parents would be proud to have their son playing for Slytherin."

With a look of wonderment in his eyes, Scorpius opened his mouth as though about to say something - but was interrupted by my extremely surly son.

"We hate Quidditch."

The light in Scorpius's eyes flickered and died, and he closed his mouth, slumping back in his chair resignedly. "Yeah... that."

I shot Albus a scornful look before turning back to Scorpius. "Scorp, if you want to tryout then you should go for it. Perhaps you can too, Al?" I suggested lightly, glancing warily at him. "You might even find that you enjoy it."

"I'd just be crap at it like I am at everything else." Albus sighed gloomily, pushing a potato across his plate with his fork. My heart gave a little twist at how forlorn he looked. It was as though he had given up on everything.

"Al-"

"And don't call me Al! It's Albus!"

Everyone round the table froze. Shocked, I looked up at my son who had jumped angrily to his feet; eyes bulging and nostrils flaring as he glared down at me. I could not understand where all this animosity had come from.

"Look, mate, why don't you sit back down?" Ron calmly suggested.

"Not if I have to keep hearing stories about the Great Henrietta Potter." Albus spat, glaring down at me. "I get enough of this bullshit at school."

"Please don't be like this, Al- Albus," I said, desperately trying to appease him. "I was just telling Scorp-"

"That you're great at everything. Yeah, I heard. No need to keep ramming it down our throats, Mother."

There was a collective gasp as the table's occupants all held their breath, eyes immediately swivelling towards me, waiting for my response.

I did not disappoint.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT, ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER! YOU GO TO YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW AND DON'T COME OUT UNTIL YOU ARE READY TO APOLOGISE!"

I was shaking with fury, red lights flashing before my eyes.

"Gladly," Albus spat. "See you again... never!"

And then off he stormed, leaving a ringing silence behind him as he slammed the door hard.

"Well," Ron said wiping his mouth with a napkin, "any dessert going?"

***