Chapter 1:

Harry Potter had an arduous first-day as an auror within the newly restored Ministry of Magic. He felt delirious as he stepped upon the familiar platform within the dimly-lit London Underground. Various people around him looked positively weary as well. Like him, they had probably expended all their energy during work, and now thought limited thoughts revolving around certain primal urges. There was only two actions that Harry felt in the mood for which was filling his stomach, and achieving some much needed intimate time with his wife, Ginny.

Ever since moving into London, Ginny was positively enervated by the "clanging" noises of the city. There was too much dissonance where she required a quiet environment to help ease her mind into that desired mindset for writing. Back at school, Ginny never had the opportunity to write due to Quidditch, and academic commitments. Now that Harry was working outside the home in the traditional sense, she had ample time to write without any unwanted interruptions.
Thinking of his wife's pensive stare as she scrutinized her writing increased Harry's enthusiasm about getting home to her. Lately, she had been quite heady as though she had drank one or two glasses of wine while in the midst of working on her novel. Before Harry left, she planted a loving kiss on his lips that left a deep impression of love that endured his laborious day at work.
Hermione, who was a friend and former classmate at Hogwarts, worked within the Department of Ethical Magic. With her blunt nature, she could not help but ask Harry today about her questionable lack of a real career.
"Harry, I don't know what you've done to cause such a head-strong, accomplished woman to remain at home. You'd think that "the boy who lived," would have a better grasp of liberal values. More importantly, England and many other parts of the world have have made great advancements in the area of women's rights. Ginny formerly had such realistic goals like being director of England's premier Quidditch team. Now, she is living a sedentary lifestyle where she is planning to write the next big bestseller," Hermione had a very condescending tone that made Harry feel like he was being rebuked for allowing his wife to take such a counter-cultural role. Except, Ginny had resolved to write her dream novel even if her husband forbade her to. She was definitely obstinate which made Hermione's statements appear baseless.
"Hermione, she herself made the choice. I implored her to consider taking that position as she is quite bright, and has the audacity to make the right choices in improving our nation's Quidditch team. Anyways, she had a dream a few weeks ago about meeting a pale man that wanted to share some dreaded secret to a lustful young virgin." Harry had some regrets about sharing the real reason for his wife's sudden interest in writing a novel.

"Harry, she had never written before.. Yet, she acts like she's always possessed the skills. Suddenly, she has some quasi religious vision and she's convinced that she has the skills needed to write the next big bestseller. If anything, she needs a good dose of pragmatism. Tell her to call me, this unhealthy obsession of hers is really disturbing me."
While Hermione spoke, she straightened her bushy brown hair that had become more under control when compared to the old school days when her hair was completely out of control. She was starting to have the mature demeanor of a strong businesswoman which Harry greatly marveled. They were definitely friends as Harry could only tolerate Hermione as a friend. She was oftentimes too prickly for anything on a more intimate level.

"Hermione, I will insist that she calls you! Besides that, I hope you have a good day."

"Same to you Harry! Again, congratulations on the new position," Yes, Hermione could be uptight yet there was deep love underlying her harsh exterior. Harry hugged her tightly, and then they both walked off in opposite directions to return to their offices in the Ministry of Magic building.

After Harry awoke himself from his trance,which he always seemed to get trapped in when seated idly on a train, He looked out the train window and tapped his foot percussively against the grimy grey floor of the train.

Harry felt strangely nervous as though he were afraid that his wife would suffer from writer's block, and thus would become despondent. Writers often undergo some kind of depression which immediately follows a writing spree. They usually hide their written drafts somewhere to ward off any potential readers who might offer reviews that might disenchant her. Writers were an odd, dysfunctional bundle of insecure feelings. All human beings were, but writers and artists suffered from this to a greater degree.

Before Harry was expected to arrive home punctually at 8pm, Ginny realized that she had neglected to put the frozen fish sticks, and fries into the oven. She was aghast. How could she have forgotten to fulfill her wifely duties?

All day, she had fiercely worked on a novel that involved a girl living within a highly conservative environment. This girl was positively inflamed with passion for the enigmatic, pale vampire named Edward that lived with a family filled with mysterious vampires in the outlying area of a quaint little town called Forks, Washington.

She sure was not acting conservative by forgetting to have her husband's meal prepared. Often, Harry had done the revolutionary act of cooking his dinner himself, but Ginny felt a strange drive to do something more traditional ever since beginning work on the book she named "Twilight."

During a much-needed reprieve from writing, Ginny had dyed her hair brown, and placed contact lens in her eyes to make her eyes appear brown. She could have used magic but her main character, named Bella, was a "Squib" who wasn't endowed with any fantastic magic powers. When writing, she wanted to look exactly like the character that she was beginning to see herself as. Writing this novel was becoming a powerful experience of self-discovery. Oprah Winfrey, of the Muggle world, would be proud

Hearing Harry fumbling for the keys, she quickly shut the oven door where the fish sticks and fries were to be heated for fifteen minutes. Then, she dashed onto the computer, and wrote "Edward grimaced." just as Harry quietly walked through the doorway, and cheerfully yelled aloud, "I'm Home!"

To Be Continued