AN - I own nothing, but the plot! All characters belong to J.K Rowling... Read and Criticize! :)

Throwing herself on the divan of her new house in Dorset and gently placing her bag on the glass coffee table, Hermione called her husband's name to make her presence known. He yelled a simple "Hi" in return, not bothering to leave his newer, bigger office. They had just moved to this place, his idea actually, saying their old, terraced house was not enough for him to expand his interest in Auror practice. Snorting in self-disgust at having yielded to every plan he came up with, Hermione started to massage her temples in a small circular motion. Looking upside down at the clock on the other side of where she was lying she noted the time. She still had two hours until her little angel returned home from school.

Her angel, the little, yet bright, light of her life: Cristina… the constant reminder of what she could never have. She let her eyes drift to a close, to isolate herself from her surroundings, to emerge in her world of dreams, the unattainable fantasy she reminded herself of constantly.

She revisited a memory which took place ten years, two months and fifteen days previously. It was the first of September, the first day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. She had been a plain girl, chocolaty brown eyes with matching hair colour, accompanied with a frizz. Hermione had a knack of observing people, something she had inherited from her mother. She looked around her observing the personal fears of the students around her, as well as the excitement and the general babble. She listened to everyone yet no one at all. It was then that she laid her eyes upon him the first time. Blue-gray eyes, soft yet unyielding... characterizing a strong personality. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath hitched as those eyes met hers. He had been chatting with two burly boys, but the conversation seemed to have been uninteresting because his eyes had been scanning the crowd when they caught hers.

She saw her sorting. When Professor McGonagall called her name she ran to the platform and jammed the hat to her head and waited anxiously for a reply. She remembered her new Gryffindor housemates cheering as she joined their table. She saw herself attending her first classes, making tentative friendships with her new classmates. She relived her anxiety of being accepted, of finding true friends.

I came back to reality, for tears were streaming down my face. As usual they came unbidden, showing how much I missed the old times, the old us. I wanted the old trio to be back, the golden trio with all our adventures against evil and the troubles we used to cause. I wanted us to be naïve again, but without the pressures the wizarding society placed on us. We had been expected to pair off: Harry with Ginny; Ron and I. Harry and Ginny, called it quits after some time, both moving off for separate lives, but us two, we were more twisted than that. I was Hermione, the bookworm, and Ron the impulsive one. Everyone thought we were destined to be, until those blue-gray eyes which haunt me to this day laid a seed in my heart, which blossomed into a rose tree; the thorns tearing through my heart, but giving me a beautiful rose in the end.

Taking a deep breath, I temporarily closed my eyes one more time and swung my legs off the divan. I stood up and looked at the clock again. Cristina still had a bit less than an hour to arrive, might as well prepare something for her to eat.

Switching myself to automatic mode I went to the kitchen and started to prepare one of the meals my baby loved. Focusing on the task at hand helped me bury all my thoughts. Midway through my preparation my beloved husband honored me with his presence for a couple of minutes until he brewed himself a tea.

"Ron, are you eating with us?" I asked him in one of my most gentle tones.

He replied, "My apologies luv, I got a business lunch in an hour and a half. I'm not going to eat twice am I not?" This had become a very frequent excuse, even though he never seemed to thin up a little bit.

"No worries, I was just preparing something for Cri. She will come home hungry as always. You know, I could have left you a portion. Where's this lunch at?" I smiled.

"I hate to disappoint me hearty. Jus' cannot miss this lunch at all!" he answered, evading my question completely.

The kettle whistled saving him from any further explanations and he poured himself the tea and hurriedly left the kitchen. I swirled around, bursting into laughter. How innocent did my husband think I was? Sure, I pretended not to notice, but I knew the difference when he came home from a business lunch or a lunch with her. When he dined with her, he came home happy, sated even. Business lunches, however successful they were, left him to return to his lab until the wee hours of morning and return to bed in a drunken stupor.

Soon the bell rang. I ran for the door, grinning. "Mama!" and a numbing hug was what greeted me as soon as I opened the door. "Angel" I replied with the same enthusiasm as my four-and-a-half year old daughter. I hoisted her up and planted a kiss on her nose, which she returned. I closed the door, whilst Cristina began to enlighten me with the gossip at school. Carrying her to the dining room I sat her down on her chair and brought our food to the table. Being a slow eater and the family drama-queen, my Cristina took a long time to finish her food. Just by looking at her, I could not help but notice the striking similarities between her and her father. The hair, the smile, her expression, were all his. I smiled proudly at her. Our daughter.

I fondly shooed her upstairs to say hello to daddy, and informed her on the way that her daddy had a business lunch. "Again?" she asked. Rolling her eyes she started her journey upstairs. Smirking to myself, I realized how in actual fact my daughter was like us. Wise beyond her years, in some ways it felt I was dealing with an adult not a child. She saw through my husband way better than I did. Maybe her inexperience in this world did not let her realize what Ron was doing but, deep down, I knew that she realized something was not right.

Putting all the cutlery and plates in the dishwasher and switching it on, I followed my daughter upstairs to give her the much required bath. I found her interrogating my husband.

"But dad," she was saying "How come you are going to a business lunch with that shirt and no tie? You need to look professional."

He glared at her and out of the corner of his eye he saw me hovering at the doorway. "What kind of bullocks are you telling her? Are you turning her against me? What in the hell have I done?"

I could not help it, I burst out laughing. At that same moment my daughter, in a voice that would have done any headmistress proud replied, "You and your bullocks, that's all you're good at. Mummy did not say anything to me about you and your stupid business meetings. I am telling you myself! Normal daddies stay and eat with their family, and talk to their children and not like you do to me!"

I was surprised and even more so was he. I looked at Ron with accusing eyes, a look which he returned with a level of hatred. "I suppose you got your answer alright luv." I replied, imitating his accent whilst smirking at him. I continued, "Come on babe; let's run a bath for you." Cristina jumped from the bed and grabbing my arm she half dragged me to her bathroom.

When we got there she whispered hurriedly, "Mummy are you going to be angry at me?"

Smiling at my princess, I answered her with a sure voice, "Definitely not babe… how can I be angry at you if what you have said is true?" I gave her a peck on the cheek to reassure her. She sighed happily and proceeded to the filling up of her bath. Faintly I heard the front door open and then close with a dull bang… and then, there was silence. We were safe now.

Cristina was playing with her rubber duck, dunking it in the water and letting it pop back up to the surface, each time gurgling with laughter. She said something about wanting more water in the bath, and I told her no. Suddenly, I saw the knob turn and water dripped from the tap. I looked at my daughter and smiled.

"Crissy, did you do that?"

"Momma, I don't know what happens. It happened before. I didn't touch it!" Her eyes were welling up with tears, thinking that she was going to be in trouble.

I smiled at her and gave her a squeeze. "You're a witch, my angel. Daddy would have been so proud of you."

"A witch? Like that of Wizard of Oz? The fairytale?"

I could not stop grinning. "The good witch of course of Wizard of Oz my love, the good witch. You have two very powerful parents, and you're going to be better than them. I just know it." On seeing my weakened moment Cristina decided to show off a little bit and with a glint exactly like her father's magically deflected some of the running water in my face.

Hours later he came home, on cloud nine. He even greeted me in the living room with a smile and a brushing kiss. As he leaned towards me, I could inhale her scent upon him. "How did the meeting go babe?" Trying to make the utmost of his cheery mood.

"Oh so good, so good…" He said it in a voice that hinted that he was replaying the scenes in his head over and over again. With a speed that was nearly instinctive, I picked this up from him.

I smiled at him and returned his kiss while murmuring, "I'm pleased."

He touched my cheek, and as moments like this were rare, I leaned in his hand, savoring every moment. I was deprived of all this attention. It had stopped when he had started seeing her, and before that, there was no passion between us… no love… no affection. It was just a need to settle down.

"Let us go to bed lass," he said softly.

I gave a brief nod, and he lifted me up and carried me to our bed. Deep inside my twisted soul I was content, I had gotten him finally, even if it was after an evening with her. Yet, at the same time I didn't want to be second best. I didn't want to fill in her shoes. She was the bitch. In the living room… it had been a moment of weakness. In his arms I found strength, something which normally one uses to help his partner, mine… it was revengeful. I had made the right choice.

He laid me on the bed and had started to undress himself when he noticed my change in expression. "What is it luv?"

I smirked. "You don't know it? How dare you touch me when you stink of her." My words came out like a venomous poison, willing it to sink in and work its magic. He faltered. The moment was definitely ruined. I continued, "I have been willing to let myself live this life, this miserable life for years… years! At least you never touched me until you had a shower and removed her smell. But today, now… How dare you?"

He looked deep in my eyes and said, "You knew?"

"Of course I did! I have known all along what was going on. Do you think I never realized? I remained here because it never really affected me. Now, I just do not know how to go on."

"I am sorry."

"Sorry?" My voice seemed to be rising in its pitch. I cast a wandless silencing spell around us, not to wake up my daughter. "Sorry is not enough. I have had enough. I am not your waste, I am not your bitch. I am your wife, she's your whore. I want out."

"Out?"

"What in the fucking hell do you expect? That I sit here and go on living the so called, happy life?"

Changing tactics he said, "You have no proof of this."

"Seriously, I worked all these years with patients who had problems in their lives, problems much worse than this. They did not know how to handle it. I know I can, and I have handled it my way. I am not chucking you out because you paid your share of this house, so I am staying in the guest room tonight. Find a lawyer if you want. I filed a case in court already. Don't speak to me in the meantime. Oh and for the record, I'm planning to get Crissy's custody."

"You're leaving me?"

"For the time being, I'll be in the next room. Goodnight."