Chapter Two

Wonderfully, Truly, Happy

Wearily Hermione stepped out of the fireplace to her lounge. She fell backwards onto the beige couch, her fluffy ginger cat Crookshanks curling up in her lap. Idly she stroked his fur.

She fought a case of a herd of centaur's fight for more land, and won. She met with an abused houself taking on her case. Yet none of that was more tiring than the lunch with Ginny, who begged to introduce her to a man she met at one of her Quidditch matches. Ginny was the best Chaser in the Holyhead Harpies, an all girl Quidditch team, a sport that was like soccer, but with more brutality, and it was played in the air.

Hermione dated plenty, but they were all brutes. It was amazing how charming a man could be when they were hoping to get in the pants of one of the golden trio as the wizarding community liked to call her, Harry, and Ron.

Gently she pushed Crookshanks off her lap, and went up to her room to turn in for the night. However there was that small owl on her desk again as though he never left. He hooted happily looking to an envelope he had set down.

She ripped it open, surprised that her mystery writer had already responded. How long had that owl been there? She opened a drawer filled with snacks that she reserved for Hedwig, and Pig. She fed him a handful.

Ms. Granger,

Should I write so soon? Within moments of reading your letter here I am writing you back. If you're to be my confidante than there's no reason to hide the fact that I was excited when Lunus (my owl) flew into my room, your envelope in his beak.

It's imprudent of me to ask this when I know you, and you only have vague ideas of who I am, but I feel that I must: Are you happy? Not in the sense of your job, or family, or everyday life, but wonderfully, truly, happy?

I have everything I could ask for, but it feels like something is missing from my life. I fear that I messed up in my past, and because of it I will be forced an unhappy future. Maybe I passed up a crucial opportunity.

I await your response.

Your Confidante In Return

Wonderfully, truly, happy? She loved her job, loved her family, and friends, loved her everyday life. What more could make a person happy? Perhaps the small things. The moments in life that he was possibly missing. How could she know what he was missing though? She didn't know him. It almost seemed wrong to be writing him. Almost.

Confidante,

I am happy. I could be more so, but it's not up to me to determine how much I need. There are others that need tending. I'm of no concern.

I can tell you for certain that our past does determine our future. The choices we make, make us. I can also say that I doubt that because of it you'll live unhappy. It's your choices now that count. Don't let fear rule you, or you risk more opportunities. Be happy, and everything else will fall into place.

Granger

"Up for another trip," she asked Lunus. He hooted delightfully taking the envelope eagerly setting flight into the night.

In an impulse she left her room to the fireplace downstairs, throwing in a pinch of floo powder. She got down on her hands, and knees, and stuck her head into the flames, choking a little on the ash. She called out, "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place," and her surroundings sickening circled becoming a brightly lit lounge.

Every time she thought she might have been in the Gryffindor common room at first sight of the red couch, and rug. Everything else was toned down with dark woods such as the frames on the walls, the bookcase, and the coffee table.

"Ginny," she called out.

A flash of red tresses flew over the back of the couch. An "oomph," and a few curse words. Ginny shot to her feet, closing the last of the buttons on her wrinkled blouse. "Hermione," she exclaimed, and more curse words came from behind the couch.

Hermione's face burned scarlet. "I can come by another time," she said hastily.

"Don't - it's fine."

Harry's flushed face appeared over the couch. He scowled at her. "Yes, come by anytime."

"You two have a bedroom," Hermione pointed out.

"Too predictable."

Ginny smirked, "get lost, Harry."

"What if she wants to talk with me?"

Hermione laughed, "sorry, Harry, but I do want to talk with Ginny."

"Figures..." He mumbled something about women, and left the room, fiddling with his belt.

Ginny plopped in front of the fire crossing her legs. "Anything the matter?"

"Sorry, I just have a question. Didn't mean to interrupt you."

She waved her hand dismissively, "what's your question?"

"Are you happy?"

Ginny looked incredulous. "What do you think I was doing just now? Scrubbing the floor?"

Hermione's blush deepened. "Put aside your friends, and family, your career, your everyday life. Are you happy?"

"What else is there to be happy about?"

She laughed at hearing her own thoughts aloud. "I mean... The little things. Are you wonderfully, truly, happy?"

"If I was any happier I'd burst into stars." Ginny gaped at her worriedly. "Are you?"

"Of course, I was just... Thinking. It's nothing, really. I'll let you get back to... You know." Hermione pulled her head back through to her own lounge.

She fell back against her floor. So it was possible to be that happy. The feeling that something was missing... She did feel it. It wasn't the lack of having a boyfriend, or a husband, she wasn't that shallow. It was the little things... She didn't have those, unless small talk between boring lawyers counted.

Crookshanks crawled to her side mewing contently as she scratched his ear. "I'm happy enough, Crookshanks. I don't need those little things..."

Groggily she pushed herself to her feet. At the top of the stairs she started laughing. It might have been due to her hazy state, but she laughed. There on the walls were her little things. The pictures.

Her at Harry, and Ginny's wedding at the Burrow, toasting as the maid-of-honor. Holding a baby Teddy who steadily changed his hair color from green to blue. Losing another game of wizard chess to Ron. Her, and her parents outside of the opening of their new dentist practice. Luna introducing Hermione to a recently discovered bug. Nevielle untangling her bushy hair from one of his plants.

When she started searching her work for the "little things," it was time to take a step back. Not in the form of a vacation, but to step back metaphorically, and take a look at the bigger picture. She's always had those little things. She was wonderfully, truly, happy. In the midst of sad cases that she buried herself in, she forgot temporarily.

She held the stitch in her side as she laughed. She was too tired. Hermione fell into her bed silently thanking her mystery pen pal for unknowingly giving her that insight.