Hermione was sick.
She was sick of work. She had been working her butt off every day since she started at the Ministry three years ago. Even if she was too ill to walk, she found a way to crawl to work.
She was sick of her family. Ever since her relationship with Ron fell through her mother had been on her case about her dying need to have grandchildren. "I don't care if you have to adopt, Hermione! You are our only child and the only chance I have to get a grand baby before I die!" Her mother had become very fond of insinuating her death from lack of grandchildren. Hermione couldn't do anything but roll her eyes at that. Her mother was only forty-nine.
On top of all of that, she was sick of her friends. Not in the kind of way that she would want to quit being friends, she was just tired of watching them all be so...happy. Harry and Ginny had just had their wedding the year before. After the wedding, Hermione fell into her "sickness". It was that night that Tilly Belle Weasley was conceived. Honestly what kind of a name was Tilly Belle? One conjured up from the mind of Lavender Brown of course. It was at Harry and Ginny's reception that Ron (Hermione's boyfriend at the time) had too much Veela Wine and cheated on her with Lavender in the coat check room. For awhile everyone was outraged with him, even Mrs. Weasley. But when news of Lavender's pregnancy spread, everyone suddenly went from 'Poor Hermione' to 'Hermione-Needs-To-Move-On'. So shortly later, the baby was born and right as Lavender popped the little screaming girl out, Ron proposed. Which was the one thing Hermione could never get out of Ron.
And here Hermione was, left sick because everything in her life had gone drastically in a different direction. Everyone was moving on as the world turned and she felt like she was left behind. The wedding was going to be in exactly two months and Hermione didn't think she would last that long. She was sure by then she would be not just sick, but terminally ill.
Hermione walked into her London flat, arms full of groceries, after another grueling day of work. She set the bags down on her counter and said a few quick spells to send the items into their proper places. She normally didn't use magic for such simple tasks, but she was not up to any more labor for the day. "Hello Crookshanks," she scratched the cat that was laying on the armrest of her sofa behind the ears on her way to her bedroom.
Hermione's place wasn't very large and modern like Harry and Ginny's, but it was her own. It was very feminine with lots of creams and blush colors in her kitchen and living room. Her bedroom was relaxing and painted a soft periwinkle. She never had Neville's touch with plants so she kept orchids throughout her flat. They were very easy to keep alive and added a simple girly touch to the place. Her pride and joy, however, was her wall length bookshelf in her living room. She had spent at least a month filling it up with her old books from childhood and Hogwarts and adding new ones. It was truly her dream bookshelf and she was still working on reading every book on its shelves.
Hermione changed into her pajamas and picked up the novel she was currently working on. She plopped down on her sofa and conjured up a large glass of fizzy butterbeer. With her book in one hand and her drink in the other, she sank down into her cushions.
If Ginny were to floo into her apartment at that moment, Hermione would be sincerely embarrassed. Today she wasn't reading the typical Hermione novel. Lately, she had become increasingly more interested in the cheap romance novels you could find next to the magazines at any convenience store. They were a short read and quickly took Hermione's mind away from the world she was currently living in.
The girl in this particular one she was reading had a similar situation to Hermione. She was bored with work and life in general so she decided to take a vacation for herself and went to Jamaica for the week.
'Maybe getting away for awhile isn't such a bad idea,' Hermione thought. 'But where would I go?'
Her money situation at the moment was not what she would have liked it to be. She knew for a fact Jamaica was out of the question. She needed a place, preferably a beach, nearby that she wouldn't have to pay too much for.
Suddenly, it struck her in the back of the head. Her aunt Agatha had a house right on the beach in the south of France. She could get her mom to ask if she could stay there for awhile.
Hermione grabbed her phone and dialed her mother's number. She knew for a fact her mom would be hesitant to go along.
"Hello."
"Err..Hey, Mum," Hermione said.
"Hermione dear, is everything alright. You don't usually call on a week night."
"Yes, everything is fine, I just need a favor."
"Of course, what is it, Dear?"
"Well, I'm just so tired and stressed with work. I have never taken any vacation or sick days since I've started my job. And well, I was thinking that maybe I could take a short vacation and stay at Agatha's in Nice for a week," Hermione got the whole sentence out in one breath.
"Hermione, I think that is a wonderful idea. You know, I was just saying to your father, all Hermione needs to get re-situated is a nice vacation away. Can you sit tight while I call Aggie up?"
Hermione let out a sigh of relief, "Yes I sure can, Mum."
Hermione downed the rest of her butterbeer as she waited for her mother to call back. This was the happiest she had felt in over a year. The thought of not having to do paperwork or have a weekly dinner at the Weasley's was exciting to her. It only took another minute for her mother to call back.
"Now Hermione, Aggie said that it would be no problem at all if you stayed at her place as long as you left everything exactly as you found it. She doesn't want to go back there later and find unmade beds and broken vases."
"I'm not going there to have house parties. I just need some rest and sunlight."
"You know, I really think this is a step in the right direction for you. And who knows, maybe when you get back you'll feel new again. Your tan might attract some new male attention and you will at last give me a grand baby and everyone will be happy."
"Maybe, Mum," Hermione said almost groaning.
"Well. Your all set to go there tomorrow if you like. Do call and let me know you make there safely."
"I will."
"Good, be safe. I love you, Hermione."
"Love you too, Mum."
With the end of the phone call, Hermione danced into her bedroom and jumped on her bed. She had no idea why this idea had never dawned on her before, but she felt like framing the book that inspired it.