Setting Hermione Free
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.
Chapter 1
Does he think I'm stupid? Does he really think I'm that effing stupid?
Hermione lay in bed, her blood boiling.
Her husband, Ronald Bilius Weasley- git extraordinaire- was snoring beside her.
Honestly, the man was a menace!
She imagined it must be after two in the morning. He'd come bumbling, stumbling, into bed. Reeking of smoke, firewhisky, and cheap whore.
Boys' night out indeed.
He could have at least had the decency to wash his hands.
The arse.
The bloody. Stinking. Effing. Arse!
