I wrote this at about 1:30AM when the idea came into my head, so here. This is my first oneshot, but I hope you like it. Pretty short. I will update 'The Good and the Bad' soon.


Her quill, with such majestic movement, released swift cursive letters onto the beige parchment. The wind chimes dangling in her front porch played with harmony to the swaying leaves outside. The smell of vanilla rose into the air as the oven sent out a 'ding', indicating it was done.

She closed her scrapbook shut, placed her feet in her favorite pair of yellow slippers and walked to the kitchen; humming an untitled melody all to herself. Birds outside even landed on a nearby tree to greet her a quick hello as she approached the white kitchen counter.

The baby blue over mitts she knew so well waited there; freed from its prison as she pulled open her drawer. She slipped her hands into them, her right one first, just like her mother had done. Even with her mitts firmly on, the slight bump from her wedding ring could be clearly seen.

Her vanilla cake was released and cooled on the counter, allowing five minutes for the wind to sing to her outside, just like he had done. She took out a special container of chocolate icing from the highest cabinet and spread it evenly along the fluffy surface; delicate strokes of sweetness covering every bit of its bare yellow layers.

She took out white sprinkles and decorated the cake; creating carefree happy faces patterned everywhere. All of them looked up at the towering independent woman; still smiling although her shadow loomed over them so greatly.

Taking a slice out of the cake for herself and placing it on the wooden dining table, she reached over to take the framed picture standing in the middle of it all, bringing it closer. Her fork mined from the top to the very heart of the slice; chocolate icing managing to fall out from its edges.

"It's June 5th," she spoke to herself, taking a bite, sinking her teeth into the spongy texture, and swallowing.

"Remember the previous June 5ths? Walks in the park, stories by the fireplace, and especially," she stopped to take another swallow, the taste of it satisfying her hunger. "Vanilla cake, your favorite dessert…"

No one talked back, but she knew – the world knew – she was definitely being heard.

"I wish you were still here to share some with me, you would have been very happy. But then again, you've always been here, haven't you?" She placed her hand over her heart, which beated a steady, monotonous tone; one-of-a-kind. "It feels like you're completely out of my reach now…with no one to kiss me goodnight…"

Still no response.

She laughed by herself. It wasn't the same; the breathless laughter that used to bounce off her uncolored walls didn't stay with her after he left.

Finishing off the last of her slice to the point only crumbs remained, she arose from her chair, bringing the framed picture with her; enclosed like a refuge in her arms.

She gazed out the window as the narrow slits in between the blinds allowed sunlight to dance across her face unwillingly, and the distant sound of traffic was not too hard to perceive.

"It's June 5th," she repeated.

Looking down at the framed picture of her husband – who was gone but still had a place in this world with her – Hermione began to cry. A tear landed on top of the picture, sinking into one of the corners, the others glazing the glass covering.

"Happy birthday, Draco."


Thanks for reading. :) Please review?