What Might Have Been


The air was chilly as she walked up the street in muggle London. Her daughter chatted away excitedly next to her as they headed to a nearby restaurant for lunch. Today was her eleventh birthday. Any day now her Hogwarts letter would be arriving in the mail and she could not be more excited.

To celebrate her special day, Hermione had planned a great outing for them but was currently wrapped up in her own thoughts. She had caught a glimpse of his platinum blonde hair as they had pushed through the crowd at The Leaky Cauldron. He'd appeared to be on an outing of his own, small blonde mini version of himself in tow. She knew he saw her too. Their eyes had met for only a moment but time seemed to stop.

His eyes were cold, so much unlike how they'd been one night upstairs in this very same building. Her mind quickly flashed to memories of his lips crushing hers, their bodies entangled, sweat on both their brows. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Raising an inquisitive eyebrow at her, she dropped his gaze, cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. He smirked and turned away, instructing his son to come along. He did turn back once more and she could have sworn she saw sadness in his eyes as he looked to her redheaded daughter.

She felt her heart wrench in her chest as he moved out of her line of sight, longing for what might have been.