Thought I would try my hand at Harry Potter since I have nothing better to do with my life. And because Harry Potter fans seem to be knowledgeable and totally worth the headaches. Now, I haven't read the books since elementary school, and I'm a college freshman. God knows I've seen the movies a lot, but I never paid attention to the minute details, which will probably show in my writing. It's no lost fact that I have plot issues. So thoughts and ideas would be greatly appreciated. Also, I don't write smut. I read it, but I don't write it. I say that you shouldn't write about something so personal if you've never experienced it, and since I haven't, I won't.

I know that probably all the ideas I have have already been written, so if it seems as though I'm taking your work, know that archetypes exist and it's the main reason for creative plagiarism, and it is not my intention to do so knowingly. If you have done anything similar to this, then I guess my response is to say that great minds think alike or something. Shoutout to everyone who's tackled this kinda scenario, especially Lena Phoria and her beauty The Deadline, considering that I had this idea in my head long before I read her story and loved her take on it.

While I love and respect Ms. Rowling for introducing and creating a world in which so many of us enjoy to this day, I sometimes wonder if, when she wrote the last book, she felt pressured and it wasn't what it should have been. The ending felt...rushed, and I got this idea after seeing a few of the "Career Poster" thing-ys on Pinterest the other day, specifically Tom Felton in a doctor's uniform (Can someone say "Murder me now while I hate that he's vacationing with his girlfriend Jade and is, like, 10 years older than me"?). And I realized that, while Ms. Rowling has answered questions about what happens after Hogwarts for everyone (such as Neville and Hannah getting married, etc.), some of them don't make sense:

18 years was much too long. It is almost a given that after a war, lots of children will be born. It happened after World War I, WWII (they're called Baby Boomers for a reason, people), etc, etc. Chances are, in reality, no matter how much everyone thinks Hermione would go back to school and everything, I think that since she could finally be with Ron, she jumped in whole-heartedly. Hermione may have been logical, but the whole reason she wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw was because she was much more emotionally driven than most people think, and it was probably because of coming from a loving home. So, for all intents and purposes, my story follows canon somewhat, but only 11 years in the future.

Ron and Hermione wouldn't have lasted very long. Sorry, but you psychologically find yourself attracted to people you spend a lot of time with. There are biological consequences, too; I mean, close girlfriends, sisters, and mothers/daughters tend to run on similar menstrual cycles because of it. Hermione felt something towards Ron because she spent so much time with him. Also, Ron continuously exhibited childish behavior, and it wasn't because he was the youngest boy. It's just his personality, and I really doubt Hermione would be able to handle the amount of stress of a romantic relationship with him because she was always chastising him, similar to how a mother would treat a child.

Krum was actually influential to Hermione's development. Krum proved to Hermione that people actually saw her, and it showcases just how much she actually feels. And, I actually believe that they kept in close contact, and Hermione listened for his name on the radio just as much as Ron's and any of the other Weasley's.

Malfoy would not be involved in business. As much as it "runs in his blood," Malfoy was always a follower who showcased leader qualities, and he would need to be surrounded by people who would push him to be a leader, and being a Healer would do just that. He wasn't just Snape's favorite, and he didn't always use the "My father will hear about this" line. He often times came up with great wit that rivaled Hermione, and he was good at Potions. Therefore, he never would have spent time in Azkaban, especially since he denied seeing the Trio at his home... and if he was never involved in business then he wouldn't have been in Azakaban for fraud charges and stuff.

Astoria wasn't - isn't - a bitch. Even on the Harry Potter wiki (which probably isn't a good source) whoever had written the article claims that Astoria and her sister were never directly involved in Death Eater activities, and that they actually had no quarrels with Muggles. I think, that because so many people are hell-bent on always seeing Hermione as the good one, they don't see that it's possible that maybe, just maybe, she could be the problem.

I think you probably stopped reading this. So, I'm just gonna get on the with damn story.

Okay. Rant over.

Hermione's chest hurt.

No, it wasn't because she was having a heart attack. Well, maybe she was. Or experiencing heartbreak. Something. Whatever it was, her chest hurt. It hurt like hell.

She watched, sandwiched between Harry and Ron, who was holding onto Hugo, Ginny slightly behind Harry, holding onto Lilly, as the train rolled away, carrying her eldest bundle of joy. Her brain flashed back to when she first held Rose, her little fingers wrapping around Hermione's index. She felt similar back then as she did now.

Prideful.

She wasn't nervous for her daughter, oh no. Rose was nothing like her parents: bull-headed like Ron or overly studious like Hermione. In fact, she was something else entirely.

An anomaly.

Rose was a cross between a hair bow wearing, pearl donning girly-girl and a broom riding, mud pie eating tomboy. In fact, she had just gotten off punishment from Hermione catching her drag-flying with James three weeks ago. "It was Dad who told us about it," she had whined after Hermione told her she was confined to the house until it was time to head to the Platform. Of course, since Hermione was always the bad cop, strict mother, she had no choice but to hold firm.

Ron had never felt Hermione's wrath quite like he did that day, and over the phone no less.

Now, as the train wheeled away, Hermione hoped her daughter would stick to the basics and not get into any trouble.

Harry would just tell her not to get caught. And, secretly, Hermione would've liked to tell her that too.

The noise of the families and friends who had come to see the train off slowly dissipated as families disapparated, flooed, or stepped away from the Platform. It was nice to see how, even after eleven years, things were noisily quiet. It was, of course, a juxtaposition, but it was one Hermione enjoyed greatly. The wizarding world had no Hitler-wannabes running around anymore, but there were plenty of oppressive aristocrats still running - well, attempting to run - the place. Hermione hated it, but someone had to deal with all of it, and Minister Shacklebolt had felt none other than Hermione Weasley - scratch that, now it was just Hermione Granger again - was the person for the job.

As the two families, one still joined and the other separated, walked towards the brick column, Hermione turned to her son. "Hugo, do you want to finish the week out with your father before you start school again? I have some things to do at work, and I know you want to see the Quidditch tournament with him." One thing still remained about Hermione, and it was her ability to remain mature and civil towards people, even her ex-husband. His inability to grow up and have motivation for his life had been blindly hidden from her for many years. Hermione played the part of a dutiful wife until she woke up one day realizing just how much her life sucked - and that was putting it nicely. Some days, she woke up hating the fact that the other side of the bed, which she constantly tried to sleep in the middle of, was cold and daunting towards her. She had shared a bed for so long of her life that she forgot how to sleep in a large bed by herself. Ginny told her to buy a smaller bed, but Hermione didn't want the off chance of bringing someone home - ha! - and having him run right out the door, laughing hysterically because of noticing how tiny her resting place was.

"Sure, I'll go home with Dad," Hugo answered, leaning into his father's side as they got ready to run through the portal. Hermione watched as Ron silently counted down, and they sprinted, disappearing through the brick, moulding into it as though it were just clay.

Hermione cracked her neck from side to side, stretching the rest of her limbs lazily in order to relax herself to get through the wall. It was something she had done every year since her first time going through. When she was eleven, she couldn't fathom how to get through an inanimate object like Professor McGonagall had proclaimed. And so, her father, who adored his daughter enormously, crouched down and told her softly to just relax. Stretch out, and calm down. It was what he did when he was about to run a marathon, and Hermione had learned his entire routine to train with him so she could be strong, just like her father. So, she did what he told her, and then sprinted for the wall like it was the finish line, and when she arrived on the other side, she had entered a whole new world that she had instantly fallen in love with.

Except this time, Hermione's entire system was thrown off.

As she leaned to her side, stretching her arms to the left around her head, letting them hang limply like her father had always told her to, she heard a cold, calculating voice behind her.

"About to run a marathon, Granger?"

Hermione twisted around slowly, ignoring the ache in her legs as they protested not having their turn to be stretched. She had missed out on her morning run from trying to make sure Rose was ready to go, and her body was going to murder her for doing a double dosage of cardio tomorrow. Thankfully she wouldn't have to worry about Hugo trying to scramble eggs by himself while she was out.

Sometimes being lonely at twenty-nine had its perks.

"No, just making sure you and all the other wizards had a nice view," she bit back, eyes widening as she realized how much older he was. Sure, they were the same age, but he had aged more than she had expected. His face was still pointed, but some of the edges had softened, and his hair was no longer gelled back like it had been. Of course, it had hung limply since sixth year, when he was too stressed about murdering an age old wizard than keeping up appearances. In true Malfoy fashion, he was dressed in a crisp black suit with a dark green button down. His pointed dress shoes glinted in the light just as much as the small silver chain around his neck did. Hermione squinted to see what the charm on it was - a dragon? A snake? A snake choking a dragon? His eyes were as grey as ever, narrowing the longer he stared at her. His hands were in his pockets, suit jacket unbuttoned, tails flipped out around his sides.

And right beside him stood his beloved wife.

Well, ex-wife, actually. Hermione only knew the details because one of her coworkers was a former employee of the law firm that had handled the infamous Malfoy divorce at the utmost discretion. Of course, Hermione had more than happily obliged to listen when Maria decided, after three glasses of luscious red wine, to blab all about it. Apparently, the only reason they had wed was because of a clause in the inheritance papers for both the Greengrass and Malfoy lines: one male child by twenty, or no money. And, they had - gasp - leaned on Muggle technology to help them fulfill the clause. Hermione was well aware of the procedures involving artificial insemination, and since the inheritance papers had been the same since the beginning of the families, there was no specific statement of how their heir was to be procured since such technology hadn't existed, even with magic. So, Maria had claimed, the pair - and their parents - had delved into the world of genetics and used a little dose of magic to make sure that the embryo created would be a boy.

Nine months later, Scorpius Malfoy had been born.

Three months after that, Astoria Malfoy was once again Astoria Greengrass.

Hermione thought it was smart. Typical of two Slytherins who knew that they didn't want to do the dirty work but wanted to obtain the same goal, but also very brave of them to attempt to throw off the inheritance papers like that. However, neither party would ever know of Hermione's admiration towards them for committing such acts.

Even eleven years after having a child, Astoria was still a vision. Her hair, dark and devoid of any frizz, waved elegantly down her back. Dressed in a well-tailored skirt suit, her black heels shined more than Malfoy's, and Hermione was actually jealous. Sure, she could afford such luxuries, but she had always preferred to take month-long vacations and enjoying activities like hang gliding, ziplining, and parasailing; she never found much joy in shopping, even if all the store managers from the wizarding world gave her things for free. What was the point of having money if you were never allowed to use it?

What annoyed and infuriated Hermione the most was how warmly the woman was smiling at her. She knew Astoria was like many of that generation of purebloods: blood didn't matter. In fact, Astoria worked as a fashion consultant for British Vogue, which also showed that she wasn't a normal elitist who used her inheritance money to order house elves around all day. She was just as much an anomaly to the wizarding world as Rose was to the Granger's and Weasley's, and Hermione squirmed to think about how much the two women were similar. All through her final year at Hogwarts she had heard how the sixth-year brunette Slytherin was coaching - coaching - even Slytherin's most well-known seeker in Quidditch strategies with a stomach the size of a house since her petite frame was carrying a Malfoy sized child.

Hermione's final year had consisted of vomiting profusely and taking her NEWTS from an infirmary bed in Madame Pomfrey's clinic because Rose sat on her sciatic nerve too much, Ron out enjoying the freedoms of being an Auror.

Some women had it all.

Some women were Astoria Greengrass.

Others were Hermione Granger.

"Well, I should be going." Hermione flashed a small smile and turned to the column. At first, she disregarded the small voice in her head that told her to stretch her legs. Then, when she realized her ankles would crack if she wore them in such a nervous state, she slipped her shoes off and into her hand, hearing the fake patent leather clank together. Moving her ankles in a circular motion to alleviate the tension, Hermione suddenly stiffened when she felt a hand on her back.

"The more you move like that, the more stressed you - and your muscles - become," Malfoy murmured, winking at his ex-wife, who was watching with a smile still on her face. Despite what many thought, the two were still great friends, and their friendship hadn't been muddled with the fact that they had never had to sleep together. Astoria was more than happy with her fashion photographer American boyfriend, and Draco thought they were the perfect match. She loved their son, too; and they had been honest with him from the moment he would speak in full sentences.

"I'll see you later," Astoria said and waited for Draco's head to nod, and then she disapparated away, leaving Hermione scowling at the place she had once been.

Malfoy's hand was still on her back.

"Just relax, Granger."

She glared at him, silent. Running through the column had never been a problem before. Then again, she never had to deal with a close Malfoy before.

"C'mon, Granger, I'm going to be late for my shift at the hospital if you keep wasting time oogling me like that."

"I'm not oogling," she hissed, eyes narrowing.

He chuckled. "Run with me."

She rolled her eyes. "My life is over."

And then they ran.

On the other side, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Lilly, and Hugo were standing around, frantically murmuring as to why Hermione hadn't come through the portal yet. Their murmurs and worries vanished when they saw the column cleave and two figures emerged.

Two?

Harry smiled softly when he saw who was with her. "Malfoy."

"Potter." Draco nodded his head in greeting. "Mrs. Potter, Wease - Weasley." He glanced down at the two children, whose eyes were wide as they peered up at the ridiculously tall, pale man. "And you must be Lilly and Hugo." They nodded, still unsure how to take this man. "Sorry for the delay. I was just conversing with Granger about the marathon running she does."

"One of the many reasons we split," Ron muttered, glaring at Hermione. How could she run through the column with Malfoy, of all people? It was blasphemy, that's what it was.

Hermione sighed. Arguing in the middle of King's Cross was not in her plans for the day, so she put on her infamously realistic fake smile and addressed everyone. "Well, Ronald, it was amongst other things as well, but that's all trivial. Malfoy and I figured it would be easier to run through together since we both needed to go to the same place. His shift at the hospital starts soon, and I have to be to the office in an hour. I thought all of you would have left by the time we came through, actually."

"I wanted to say good-bye, Mum," Hugo whispered, glancing down at his feet awkwardly. Only his father truly understood how large Hugo's adoration was for his mother since he had felt the same way about her long ago, and he smiled at the memory.

Someday, it would be real life again.

"I'll see you in a week, honey," Hermione murmured, pulling her son in for a hug. "Besides, you have a match to get excited for. Go have fun with everyone today, okay?"

He smiled at his mom as they released each other.

After saying good-byes to everyone, Hugo turned towards his mother as he walked backwards. "I'll call you later, okay, Mum?"

"I only answer for you, honey," she called, giving him a small wave. His face lit up like Christmas as he turned again and jogged up to the rest of the small pack.

It was then Hermione realized Malfoy had gone, too.

Sighing, she made her way opposite of everyone else through the station.

Alone again.

Okay, so it doesn't seem like much drama, but I promise you, there will be. Especially once I introduce a few more meddling characters and everything. And, I know the whole 'running' thing seems weird, but I can guarantee that it isn't supposed to seem normal-this isn't canon.

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~QueenRoyallt