Author's Note: Shampoo and Sunny keep me going and basically keep this fic alive. A million thanks to my betas Jen and Demi!

Disclaimer: Not mine, not ever. Well, except the plot.

Hermione sat in the corner of a secluded section at Flourish and Blotts. She was reading the latest edition of Hogwarts: A History, deftly avoiding the pages that told the heroic tales of the Golden Trio.

Truth be told, she was sick of it; the war had ended three years ago. Voldemort was finally vanquished by the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Prevailed. Most Death Eaters were sent to trial for their heinous crimes and punished. Once all the talk of the Dark Lord and supporters had died down, Hermione had been relieved. She thought she could finally start living a normal life, but she was terribly wrong. The Daily Prophet and the rest of the Wizarding population could not seem to stop bothering her. A whole new section, headed by the infamous Rita Skeeter, popped up in the Prophet and became one of those ridiculous Muggle magazines that her mum loved to read while getting a pedicure. Her face was constantly plastered on the front page of the section along with her fellow Hogwarts graduates. Every move she made was printed in emblazoned letters for the whole magical world to read at their pleasure: the defeat of Voldemort, her relationship with Ron Weasley that everyone but Hermione was waiting for, her engagement, her marriage, and now, her divorce.

Divorce. In the Muggle world, divorce at twenty would seem odd and shocking. Most would not even be married, but enjoying their life, partying and getting drunk on the weekends. Hermione could not live a day longer in her shoes as Mrs. Weasley. The scant two years were pure torture for her. She didn't know why she put up with Ron's incessant complaints. He always nagged about her incapability as a cook, commenting on how the meal was "too dry" or "didn't have enough salt", and even went as far as suggesting lessons from his mother or hire a house elf from Hogwarts. Hermione knew as a fact that she was a decent cook. Harry had even praised her on a few occasions telling her that the dishes were superb.

Hermione could not even hold a respectable conversation with the man. Everything that came out of his mouth, revolved around his job as Keeper for his favourite team as a child: the Chudley Cannons. It was always Quidditch. He talked about the matches, other teams, and the amazing save he made during practise. What was even worse, though, was that he never even asked about Hermione's day or how she was progressing at work. And if he ever found that she tuned him out, he got irritated.

Hermione wished that all the negative things about their relationship ended there - but they didn't. Soon after getting married to Ron, Hermione quickly found out that he lacked an emotion she seemed to thrive for: passion. Her husband didn't care for her own needs. She was extremely disappointed for being placed in such a situation, but she could never voice her needs for fear of embarrassment. But when it all came down to everything: Ron Weasley was wholly selfish. He only cared for his appetite, his needs in bed, and his job. It drove her mad.

She always wished that he would change.

Hermione was not the hopeless romantic that expected to come home every day to rose petals and a candle-lit dinner. In spite of this, so much had she been neglected from basic husband and wife gestures from Ron, she had become slightly needy of them. She really only hoped that he just cared about her a little bit more. Sometimes, she almost wished he could be more like... No! She had to forget. She sighed, mentally kicking herself. She knew why she stayed with Ron: she had to forget. She knew that this was the life for her. Marrying Ron, being known as one of the Greatest Witches to ever live.... She had to prove that she did not live to regret what she let happen three years ago, that she was absolutely happy no matter how everything turned out.

But she wasn't. She knew it and she had to stop pretending. Staying with Ron, it seemed, was not helping her move on, so she filed for divorce a week ago. Ron had been livid. He did not understand, as she surmised. And as Hermione stood by the fireplace of their apartment, ready to Floo to Luna's with her luggage in hand, he had begun to plead with her. He told her how much she meant to him, how much she loved him, how he thought it was forever. Hermione almost snorted, thinking that he really meant how there would be no one to cook his meals, how much he said he loved her but never showed it, and how she was supposed to be at his beck and call forever. He thought that everything was going perfect, saw no flaws or imperfections in their marriage. She shook her head sadly in response and Flooed to Luna's and Harry's flat before he could stop her.

Harry had stayed by her side, knowing for a long time that Hermione was never truly happy. However, the rest of the Wizarding population wanted answers. She had been stalked constantly by reporters for the last week and was rendered stuck in Harry's and Luna's flat from fear. They had the surrounded area swamped with nosey writers who had no other material to pile up a story.

Her job was also out of the question. Ever since the report of her divorce, she could not even Floo or Apparate to Gringotts where she worked as a curse breaker without being trampled and questioned by the endless sea of paparazzi. She had been given the next two weeks off, much to her dismay, until the divorce was settled in court. After using a minor glamour charm, she escaped the prison of Harry and Luna's apartment. She was finally able to lift the charm when she found refuge at the cosy bookstore.

She was pulled out of her reverie, however, as Hermione heard a giggle. She looked up from the paragraph she had read for the twentieth time and saw a little boy curled up, his knees tucked under his chin. His little blond curls covered his eyes as he held a hand over his mouth, attempting to stifle another giggle.

Hermione smiled. She loved children. She thought that there was a chance to be happy with Ron if they had a family. She would have stayed with him - but he did not want one. For once, she was glad he didn't. She could have never gotten a divorce if it meant that her child had to grow up with one parent. She wanted to give her child more than he or she could ever need - which included two loving and supporting parents in the package. She could never imagine growing up any other way - she knew firsthand what it did to people. Hermione thought of Harry, recalling how difficult it was to grow up without parents; no one there but the Weasleys and the Grangers to send him off to Hogwarts; never having a real family to spend Christmas holidays with... Before she let her thoughts wander off even further on how it must have been like for Harry, she focused back on the little boy.

"Hello. What are you doing over here?" she asked, grinning.

"I'm hiding from my daddy!" he whispered, giggling again. He was so cute! He was dressed in the perfect little pale green dress robes and his wild curls bounced playfully.

"Okay," she replied, still beaming at the adorable toddler. She heard footsteps approaching. "I think he's coming!" She started to play along and laughed when his hands flew to his eyes and kept them shut, thinking that no one could see him.

A tall man rounded the corner and walked down the aisle. Hermione immediately stopped laughing when she recognised the male.

He laughed. "There you are! You are very good at this game. You beat your daddy! Come on my little Scorpling. Let's grab some lunch." He picked up his son, and tucked him under his arm. The little toddler flailed his arms and legs wildly.

"Good bye, Miss," he said politely. Hermione waved back at the little boy. The man didn't seem to notice Hermione until his son waved farewell. He turned back and upon seeing the witch, gave a curt nod and swiftly left the store.

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