A/N: Well, I did say I was going to wait for a couple more reviews but I guess something just inspired me to write more of this. Said person told me that I don't need a number of reviews to decide my fate. Since I didn't have any negative reviews and more than 1k views; I guess that's more than a new writer can ask for.

So, Somnus Verus thank you so so much for that inspirational comment. Thank you also the FLAMING-GECKO (i'll try to make this one a happy ending; I can never tell when my mind decides to go the other way), and to voicesofmelodies. And to all the other readers and those who gave me your reviews. Here's the sequel you guys are asking for.

Summary: The story revolves Post-Hogwarts and Post-war; a decade(or something) years afterwards. It basically revolves around Hermione and Draco. Both unhappily married. Will they rekindle the flame that they once possessed? A sequel to A Secret to Regret. (EWE; OOC)

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Harry Potter. I leave that to the goddess JKR. I do not wish to make moolah out of this. Merely a little fantasy story for the uncanny couple.

Without much ado, I present to you A Second Chance. Enjoy!

A Second Chance

Hermione looked at her watch, one of the Muggle contraptions she loved keeping. 8:05 a.m. She still had 45 minutes left. She took two cups from the cupboard and walked to the dining room. She smiled at the wonderful feast ready at the table. Well, it wasn't quite a feast but she was still proud of it. She made it with her bare hands, without the use of magic. She likes to be reminded of her Muggle life before everything happened. She might've wiped away her parents' memory of her but she didn't want to forget her roots.

A wonderful breakfast worth taking a photo was presented in front of her. Blueberry muffins, bacon and eggs, and a plate full of fruit slices. In the middle was a bouquet of handpicked flowers from the garden up front; a garden that she also did by hand, sans magic. She smiled at her wonderful masterpiece. Footsteps headed down the stairs and stopping behind her signified that her husband had arrived. His arm wrapped around her waist and he kissed her nape. Then she was pulled in a bear hug; as his kisses rained on her cheek. "What a beautiful buffet this is, 'Mione!" he gruffly whispered.

She giggled despite herself. "Ron!" she leaned back at him. "Come on let's go eat! I have to Floo to the office at this rate and you know how I hate it ruining my outfit!" She stepped away from Ron and placed the two cups across each other on the table. Her husband just stood there. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Ron just looked up at her and sheepishly grinned. He scratched his head and shrugged. Her heart broke that instant knowing him all too much of what was going to happen next. "Well, 'Mione, the guys are having a little get together today see…in Ireland", Ron shakily reasoned. Hermione gripped the sides of the table. Ron noticed that immediately knowing his wife as equally well. "Oh come on, 'Mione! It's not every day I get to see them!"

"No. It's every week", Hermione replied in a low voice. Ron stepped closer to her and held her hand. She looked away, pursing her lips. "Just go already, Ronald".

"Really? Thanks, 'Mione!" Ron replied excitedly without even rethinking what his wife felt. "I'll make it up to you later tonight, baby!" he kissed her on the cheek. "I promise".

Hermione didn't move, she didn't even say a word. That's what he always does. She knew he'd be home late again, intoxicated and drowsy. She hated how his new companions were those Slytherins in his department. They've done nothing but drink and swindle. Good for them since they had old money and Ron is trying to catch up. Trying too hard even, Hermione thought. All his promises to make up to her were as empty as the chair across her.

Ron turned around and headed for their chimney. Waving a goodbye to her, he Floo'd away to his office to meet with his co-workers. Hermione gripped her fork as she slowly ate breakfast; her tears silently fell down her face. The beautiful picture ruined by the sadness of the lone woman that sat in the table.