Hermione lay on her side, facing away from her husband. Ron snored loudly, startling her out of her thoughts. She rolled over, and looked at him, hoping to feel something. She wanted to feel the love that she had felt in their early days as a couple. She wanted to feel anything for Ron, but she just couldn't find it within herself.

Hermione was bored- that was the bottom line. She was bored of Ron, she was bored of their married life, and she was bored of living in a passionless, loveless marriage. She rolled onto her back, knowing that she would be unable to sleep that night- as usual. She stepped out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake Ron. Hermione pulled her robe over herself as she left the room.

After making herself a cup of tea, she stepped onto the patio, breathing the cool fall air, immediately feeling refreshed. Hermione Weasley was unhappy with her life, in a way that was suffocating, constricting, and numbing. She sipped her tea quietly as she reflected on her marriage.

Ron got down on one knee, awkwardly fumbling with a box that he pulled out of his pocket. Hermione thought he was utterly adorable as he stumbled over his words, shakily asking, in front of all of their family and friends, "Hermione. I-er I love you. Marry me?" Hermione tearfully said yes, and they celebrated with their loved ones. They were so happy.

Hermione walked down the aisle in the backyard of the Burrow, Harry on her arm. He agreed to give her away after Hermione discovered her parents' deaths. She was devastated, but she shoved her feelings deep and covered them inside her, not wanting to think about it. She focused on a nervous looking Ron at the end of the aisle. He grinned at her shakily as they reached him. Harry kissed her cheek and placed her hand in Ron's. Her heart pumped wildly as she turned to the man she loved, the man she was about to marry.

They fought about what she was going to do. Hermione wanted to get a job at the ministry, but Ron wanted her to stay home and take care of the house, like his mother. He wanted them to have children immediately, but she was simply not ready. In the end, they'd reached a compromise. Hermione would work part-time at the ministry as a secretary, and would take care of the home. They wouldn't have children until they were both ready.

It's been a four-year battle. Ron consistently pushes her to agree to have children, especially after Harry and Ginny had James. Hermione loved children, and she loved James, but she couldn't stop herself from casting the contraception charm every time they had sex. Which, admittedly, happened less and less frequently.

Hermione no longer felt like herself. She wasn't the type of woman to be a homemaker, a secretary, settling for less than she was. She wasn't that type of woman, but she found herself doing exactly that. She was a second-rate version of herself, a shadow of what she used to be.

Tears rolled down her face as she rested her forehead on her knees, cradling them to her chest. The tears began rolling, and she felt as if a dam broke, something deep within her snapped. Her silent tears turned to sobs, and she felt unable to catch her breath. She cried about her marriage and her life, and she couldn't stop. Hermione kept getting louder and louder, unable to muffle her heart-wrenching sounds. She heard the door open, and jumped as she felt Ron's hand on her shoulder. She cringed away from his touch, and sobbed harder.

"'Mione? What happened? Are you hurt?" Ron tried to touch her again, but she jumped up and stepped away from him. She looked at him with red eyes and a tear-swollen face, and she knew what she had to do. Ron stepped towards her, but she shook her head softly. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

"Goodbye, Ron." With that, she dissapparated, leaving a confused Ron in her wake.

Hermione looked around, trying to understand where she was. She didn't think before dissapparating, and she didn't really know where she was. The surroundings were familiar, but strange all at once. The streets were empty, and she estimated it to be about four in the morning. She shivered, remembering that she was in her bathrobe. She looked across the street, seeing a small inn. She quickly walked inside, hoping they had an available room. The counter was empty, and she looked around the homey lobby. She rang the bell on the countertop, and a witch appeared, looking groggy.

She smiled kindly at Hermione. "Hello, dear. Would you like a room?" Hermione nodded. "How long will you be staying in Godric's Inn?"

"Godric's Inn? Are we in Godric's Hollow?" Hermione asked with a voice raw from crying, surprised. She hadn't truly thought about this village since she'd been here with Harry, before the Final Battle. The witch gave her a puzzled look.

"Of course, dear, where else would we be? Now how long will you be staying with us?

"I-I'm not sure. I j-just left my husband, I don't have anywhere else to go." Hermione's voice shook as she thought about her situation. It was true; she didn't have anywhere to go. Harry's was out of the question- he couldn't be put in the middle of this. Also, he would tell Ron where she was, and she needed to be away from him. The witch put her hand on Hermione's forearm, looking at her with sad eyes.

"Oh, you poor thing. You can stay as long as you need. We will work out a price with the Inn owner. You just wait here, I'll go find him." The witch walked into a back room. A few minutes later, she returned, a dark figure following behind her. As the figure stepped into the light, Hermione gasped with recognition.

Severus Snape.