Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Characters, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera … they all belong to J.K Rowling, Warner Brothers and / or Bloomsbury.

Consequences

Reminiscing Before The Fire

"I just can't believe this has happened to me!"

Hermione sat alone in front of the blazing fire in her living room, staring at the bright colours dancing before her eyes. She glanced lazily at her dark pink digital watch, that clearly read 2:32am. She groaned quietly as her head lolled back against the sofa. This had been the worst year of her entire life, in spite of all the pleasure that had filled parts of it. Sleeping just didn't seem to be an option tonight, much like last night and the night before that.

"How could I … we have been so stupid!" she thought angrily. Hermione was sitting on her brand new plush lilac sofa. This was her apartment, which she had occupied alone for the past three years. Well, not any more. She stared briefly at the door, listening for any sounds coming from the spare bedroom next door, and reached forward to pick up her bottle of Firewhiskey that rested between her legs. It was her fifth bottle tonight. Hermione wasn't usually a drinker; in fact, usually when she, Ron and Harry went to the pub to meet up with their old school friends, Hermione was the sober one that made sure no one was too drunk to splinch themselves when Apparating home.

After finishing her drink she drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin upon them, staring into the fire as her memories seemed to appear within the dancing flames like a slideshow of orange and red.

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"I don't care Ginny! That lunch was completely embarrassing!"

"How dare you talk to me like that, Harry James Potter!"

"Will you two keep it down please, you're giving me a headache."

"SHUT UP RON!" they both shouted angrily.

It had been like this for months. It seemed like every day they were having a shouting match about everything. At first it was Ginny not seeing much of Harry, then it was Harry thinking that Ginny spent too much time with her giggly friends. Then the arguments grew over the tiniest, most inadequate little things, like Ginny forgetting to put beans on Harry's plate at lunch while he was trying to impress one of his friends. To mention the fact that they were engaged made it a lot worse. If they acted this way while they were married then a divorce would come sooner than expected.

See, Harry, like myself, was an Auror and had to spend most of his time tracking down wizards with me, who seemed to believe that they were more powerful than Voldemort and could defeat the famous Harry Potter. While Harry and I did this, Ron had found himself an enjoyable job in the Ministry of Magic's department of Magical Sports and Games, while Ginny had managed to find herself a cute little café to own and look after on Diagon Alley. That was where they were now.

"Well next time I will dump the whole plate on top of your over-bloated, gigantic head!" raged Ginny as she stood up sharply. Hermione saw her wipe her eyes on the back of her hand as she stormed behind the counter and up the stairs that lead to her mini flat above. Hermione sighed and stared around the empty, candle-lit café at all the overturned chairs before she turned to Harry. She was about to utter some words of sympathy when he interrupted.

"Don't, Hermione," he whispered, quite harshly, through clenched teeth. He pointed towards the door Ginny had exited through moments earlier and spoke again in his harsh tone. "Just … just talk to her … please." Hermione stood up slowly and walked after Ginny. She knew exactly where to find the emotionally wounded redhead, after all, this was not abnormal for her. In fact, these petty arguments happened on a regular basis, twice a week nearly.

She crept up the stairs and found herself in a familiar, light green corridor. As she walked to the last door on her right, she smiled at all of the happy portraits of the Weasley family and their friends. Before entering the brown patterned door at the end of the corridor, she stopped in front of a large portrait of the DA club. The happy faces of everyone from the secret club they had formed in her fifth year at Hogwarts smiled down at her and waved. She grinned back and laughed at the familiar face of Cho's traitorous friend Marietta, who still had the word 'Sneak' right across her face in large purple boils. Something inside her chest gave a sudden lurch at the sight of a certain green-eyed angel in the photograph smiling mischievously at her. She grew slightly shy as a red tint entered her cheeks. Hermione had not yet told anyone about her secret crush.

Turning away from the picture, she rapped twice on the door, and entered slowly.

"Ginny?" she said quietly, "Are you ok?"

Suddenly a mass of red hair appeared from behind a green armchair that faced the window opposite and hurtled towards her. Hermione embraced Ginny in what could be seen as a friendly hug and patted her gently as she erupted in tears over her robes. After the water works stopped, Hermione sat Ginny down on the armchair and tried to listen to her whining about Harry. She found this slightly difficult, however, as she always did whenever anyone mentioned Harry.

"Hermione, what's happening to us? We used to get along so well! He would always kiss me and tell me that I was his world, he would always hold me close and kiss my neck and whisper his problems into my ear. But now we can't even say 'hello' without getting into an argument! I mean, we're engaged for Merlin's sake! We should be able to communicate better than this, don't you think?"

Hermione found herself barely listening to Ginny, because she was trying desperately to remove flowing images from her head without changing her facial expression. She could see Harry holding her close and kissing her neck gently as his long, delicate fingers slowly unbuttoned her blouse. She could hear Harry whispering in her ear while gently nibbling on her lobe; telling her that she had always been his world … These images weren't new to Hermione; in fact, they were PG rated compared to some of the dreams she usually had at night when she felt lonely … and horny.

"Hermione, are you awake?" Ginny cried angrily, while waving her hands before her face. The tears had stopped flowing but she looked on the verge of starting the water works again, and Hermione was getting pretty darn sick of hearing Ginny's wails of remorse and regret.

"Oh yes, sorry, Ginny," she recovered, straightening herself on the overly comfortable plush pillow as she rapidly pulled herself back to reality. Her fantasies would have to wait until nightfall.

"Did you hear what I said, Hermione?" She added after sighing and rolling her eyes.

"Oh, no sorry, Ginny," she admitted, lowering her head slightly. "What did you say?"

"I asked if … if you could talk to him for me … you know, let him know that I love him and … find out if there is anything I can do to … you know, please him more …"

Hermione felt herself stiffen at the sound of Ginny's words but she managed to recover before Ginny could notice her discomfort. This was definitely the first time that Ginny had asked her to get involved this much and talk to Harry about it. Now how was she supposed to go to the boy that she had fancied since the day she had seen his rebellious hair and striking green eyes on the train in their first year, and convince him to go out with a girl who was a year younger than he was, and quite frankly, a bit annoying? She didn't mean to be horrid about Ginny; she did like her really, it was just that she found them to be an unsuitable couple. She found Harry and herself to be much better.

"Well?" Ginny said, earnestly. There was no way of backing out of it now. How would it look if she could not talk to her best friend about his girlfriend? But that wasn't the real problem. Hermione didn't want them to get back together, and she certainly didn't want to be the reason that they got back together. She wanted him all to herself. She was completely sick and tired of feeling the green-eyed angel doing backflips in her heart at the sight of the couple arguing, and then feeling the angel get crushed by the green-eyed monster in the pit of her stomach, after seeing them kiss and make up.

But maybe, just maybe, if she went about it the right way … she could split them up? Maybe she could hint to Harry that Ginny was getting slightly tired of him …

No, Hermione … you can't! Ginny is your friend! Darn that voice of reason! However, the monster in her stomach was telling her that she had to do it! Usually, the monster didn't win, but this time it manipulated and twisted Hermione's decision - by flashing her own thoughts of herself and Harry in bed in her mind's eye.

"Hermione!" Ginny shouted. She blinked and stared at Ginny, trying to regain her sense of her surroundings.

"Will you do it? Will you talk to him for me?" she said, obviously unable to hide her excitement.

Hermione hugged her and whispered, "Don't worry Ginny, I will definitely talk to him." She continued to hug Ginny, who thanked her repeatedly.

She knew that she would have to pay for it, but at that moment, she didn't care; all she could think about was … Harry.

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Hermione glanced at her watch again. 2:46 am. She pulled her knees to her chest in the chair and rested her chin upon them again.

Why did I do it? She asked herself, resisting the temptation to pinch her forearm and prove that it had all been a horrible dream.

"I never usually let myself get controlled by my emotions like that." But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. Tilting her head back, she downed the rest of the Firewhiskey, and in a moment of complete anger, threw the empty bottle at the fire, which erupted into huge flames of orange and red, and then sank as if to say 'thank you'. The sound of the glass hitting the concrete fireplace made her jump, and she hastily glanced towards the door. She hadn't realised it would make such a piercing sound and hoped it hadn't woken her guest.

Once the room had again become silent and no stirring from the room next door could be heard, she regained her previous position, wondering how she could have let this happen. Little miss Intelligent … yeah right! If she was so smart then why did she let herself do something she had known would ruin her life?

Love acts in strange ways, she thought, rather matter-of-factly.

Hermione laid her head back against the back of the sofa, wishing with all her might that sleep would soon wash through her and let her relax.