Chapter Two:
'Who is that woman in the mirror, she's a stranger wearing my face…
When did I become this old?
When did my hair start to grey... and now there's wrinkles in my skin. Were there always so many?'
She remembered reading somewhere that magic extended the lives of those who wielded it far past normal mortal expectations, and she knew from personal encounters with elder wizards and witches alike that was a fact.
'So shouldn't forty still feel young?
Why do I feel just Professor Tawney described me to be all those years ago?'
"...old and dry as the pages of the books to which you so desperately cleave.." The words slipped out as a jeer from her own reflection.
"Well at least the cover matches the story with-in now, huh Hermione?"
'Such rubbish…'
Dull brown eyes tore away from the woman in the mirror, as memories of what she once had been; swarmed like bees inside her head. Slouching back against the edge of the sink, head falling to rest against her shoulder blades, she tried to focus on her breathing as anxiety washed over her.
Something that had become all too common of an occurrence at present, often she lost herself in the past picking at frayed edges with a fine tooth comb. Pondering resentfully over the ''what ifs'' as the hours outside slide idly by.
'Am I making a mistake? Is devorce really the only choice left?'
"Empty nest syndrome" Her mother had crooned, as she patted her back soothingly while she cried. Unable and unwilling to tell her mother just how horribly she felt... how could she tell her she'd failed at picking her life partner?
'If only it were that, perhaps then I wouldn't feel like a horrible mother as well.'
The unruly thoughts that occupied her time were too selfish… dreams of days long gone, and trips down the road less traveled that would lead her to perhaps an entirely different destination; it repulsed her. But she couldn't stop thinking about it: she wanted, no, she needed, more than anything for something to be different.
In the end she knew the price she would have paid was too steep, because most alternatives would've cost her their kids. Her children are her life, or at least they have been for the past twenty years.
'But even little Hugo is grown and gone now…' The treacherous voice inside her head never failed to remind her.
Seeing her children grown, happy, and in love was a bittersweet reminder that her home offered none of the same comfort.
'So what's left for you here? Why linger?'
"Now's the time to focus on you, and your relationships again… Re-learn how to spend quality time with your spouse." Their marriage counselor insisted.
But spending time with Ronald felt exasperating, more so now than ever.
Over the years they had drifted apart so naturally, filling the space with their children and jobs that they no longer even bothered to share the same bed. Any relationship they had to speak of often occurred in raised voices, that battled over opposing opinions.
"With how much we argue sometimes it feels like I'm still at work… pleading a magical rights case before the Wizengamot."
She had said it, the words had slipped out to their counselor ill timed and desperate. Ronald an unreceptive audience to her deepest secrets that pleaded for someone, anyone, to listen.
'Most days I wonder how we got along well enough to even get married in the first place…' Oh if only she would have continued, but enough had already been said to stir another fight that still hadn't died, even months later the ire between them had only dwindled.
'Does that make me a failure? Because I resent my husband? It certainly makes me a horrible wife...'
Trailing an exasperated hand over her face she pushed off the sink's ledge and pushed through the hardwood door directly across exiting her personal bathroom; she sighed.
At least no one would be privy to her bathroom musings regardless of the time of day. One of the many perks to owning her own magical litigation.
Another thing that drove Ronald bonkers, he couldn't stand that her little "hobby" as he had called it, had turned into a company with a multi-million pound net worth.
Oh it had all been very controversial when she had first started out, so many people had been against it, and the majority of the Wizarding world had resisted the change to their judicial system.
Ron nearly convinced her to throw in the towel at least seven times, especially in the early years when cases were hard to come by.
There was one fight in particular during that time where for a brief moment before the birth of their first child where she thought to leave everything behind… even Ron.
Especially Ron.
"Just give it up Hermione, no one needs a magical lawyer, we have the Wizengamot for that."
"Oh and their trials are always fair, and lead to just rulings right? What real use is someone to argue the facts in there when there's memory extraction and veritaserum?
I've heard it all before Ronald, I won't stop, the magical realm needs real legal representation, memoires and veritaserum may speak for itself but they can still be flawed, tampered with even.
Let's not forget that some people don't even get the chance to plead their case by those methods.
Like Sirius, he was locked away for more than a decade in the worst kind of place imaginable, the entire time he was an innocent man!"
"Oh of course, the truth finally comes out. This isn't about "Magical justice", it's about Harry. Poor Harry and his wretched life, that was just SoOoOo hard on him. As if he didn't have the world handed to him on a silver platter!"
*Gasp*
"This has nothing to do with Harry! It's about the people who aren't given a chance to prove their innocence! The muggle world has a saying "innocent until proven guilty" and I can't stand to think about how many people rotted away in a little dark cell for years. Their very souls being sucked out of them until they lost any will to fight at all.
You've felt it yourself! Using your own words you said it felt like you would never know happiness again! How can you say that's not a valid enough reason to keep fighting for change?!"
"NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR "CHANGE" BLOODY HELL HERMIONE IT'S LIKE THAT STUPID S.P.E.W. SHIT YOU STARTED BACK IN SCHOOL! IT'S USELESS, AND ALL YOU'RE DOING IS WASTING TIME. WHY WONT YOU JUST ACCEPT THAT YOU'RE BETTER OFF STAYING HOME AND TAKING CARE OF ME?!"
"BECAUSE THAT'S NOT WHO I AM! WHY CAN'T YOU ACCEPT THAT?"
"I BET IT'S WHO YOU WOULD BE FOR HARRY!"
"IT'S NOT! AND HARRY WOULD NEVER ASK ME TO BE ANYTHING BUT WHAT I AM! HE NEVER HAS!"
"HA! SEE! I TOLD YOU THIS WAS ABOUT HARRY!"
"Can you just STOP IT?! You're the one who keeps bringing him up! I don't even understand why! He's our friend, FAMILY now even... and he deserves better than you harping on him, and invalidating how hard his life was when you know just how difficult it really was! We were right there, standing by his side for most of it! His parents were killed over some rubbish proficy, that made him: a one year old baby, the equal of one of the darkest wizarding lords ever and when he survived that night Voldemort still found ways to torment him, all of us, for years. He nearly died to save us all over and over again. This world did him no favors, So just stop! Stop talking trash about him behind his back."
"You know what I think? I think you should've just married him, since he's so important. Heck you already gave him our first dance, what's the difference."
"We've been over this already, Harry and I were only dancing because he was trying to cheer me up after you left me in tears on our wedding night after implying that I looked like a whore."
"Well maybe if you hadn't worn such a revealing dress there wouldn't have been any need for me to "ruin" our reception by informing you of how wretched you looked."
"IT WASN'T EVEN REVEALING. I WAS COVERED FROM MY HEAD TO MY TOES!"
"IT WAS SKIN TIGHT, AND EVERYONE THERE WAS OGLING MY WIFE. Then to my surprise when I came back after cooling off, expecting to kiss and make up, I saw that very same wife dancing in the arms of another bloke to our song."
"Harry isn't just some ''bloke ``, he was our best friend and he was just trying to comfort me."
"Yeah right, he's never been able to stand that you chose me. He's always just been waiting for his chance to steal you away. But it's too late, you're mine."
"You don't own me Ronald."
"Yes I do, you're my wife."
She had hated it, the way he looked at her, as if he truly believed she was his possession to use and control as he pleased.
He expected her to sit at home and wait on him and their children like a chest piece, waiting for instructions on a wizard's board. But then he would go out and do something randomly kind, and it was always just so sweet, and thoughtful that it would make up for everything he had said or done before and everything would be good again. Great even; until it wasn't.
It took years for her to even realize the conversations like that were a form of abuse, then a few more passed before she found out there was a name for people who behaved like that.
'Narcissist.'
She spent the better part of a decade battling with herself torn between the desperate urge to leave him, and the hope that he could get better, be better with just a little bit of time and effort.
Maybe she really didn't love him hard enough, maybe it really was her fault that they argued so much.
She did argue for a living after all…
'No. NO, it is not my fault. Anyone would argue with someone who treats them like shit.'
"Ugh, I'm so sick of thinking about this." She groaned, head falling onto the back of her chair.
Scrubbing her face as if the very action could remove the troubling thoughts from her mind.
'Focus on work, work first. Right, let's review the current gossip and scandals, to see if there will be any good cases opening up soon… Where's my issue of the daily prophet?'
"Sue?" She called out to her secretary over the intercom, "Where's my issue of the daily prophet?"
"Uhh, I still have it Ma'am…"
"Bring it here please."
"I- i'm not so sure I should…"
Taking a deep breath, Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. Sue was brilliant at what she does most days, but all day today she had been behaving vastly out of character. First she had forgotten to postpone her midday meetings over lapping her schedule with her drafting of divorce papers. Then she had neglected to alert her to the time causing her to be tardy to her lunch with Harry.
And now she's keeping her newspaper?
The newspaper?
"Bring it here, please." She repeated through clenched teeth, annoyance weighing heavy on her shoulders.
"R-right away Ma'am." The phone buzzed and heels clacked on the tile floor briefly before the door burst open.
"Here you are…."
Accepting the paper without so much as a glance she went back to scribbling on the paper before her, expecting Sue to take that as her regular que to leave she was befuddled once more to find that her secretary hadn't moved.
She stood near the door ramrod straight, picking at her nails, eyes flicking between the prophet and Hermione anxiously instead.
"Is there something else you need?"
"Uh! N-no.. S-sorry!" She stuttered before she fled.
"What is up with her today?"
Giving herself a visible shake, she flicked her wrist to straighten the page and began to read. Eyes merely skimming over the title before her heart plummeted straight down to her stomach, trembling hands gripping the paper tighter in shock.
'It's not possible… it's not. There's no way this could be real…'
Then another realization struck her, and sent her scrambling.
"Oh no… No, no, no!"
Snatching up a fist full of floo powder she rushed to the fireplace and fired off a destination she hadn't dared to even utter in years. Praying with everything in her that the protection wards hadn't been changed in that time.
Today's work and the most recent issue of the daily prophet fluttering down to the floor behind her.
"Soon."
He knew it was selfish, ridiculous even that he couldn't wipe the smile off his face for the remainder of the day once they had parted ways. But there was an ever prescient radiance that cast the entire world in a glow that he hadn't seen since his first encounter with magic decades ago.
It followed him for the rest of his day at work in the DMLE office; undeterred from the endless piles of paperwork that cluttered his desk, and even as he made his way to the invariably empty larger than life house he had called home for the past decade.
Regardless of the perturbed glances, and hushed whispers that were clamoring around more than usual. Even as paparazzi snapped pictures of him and inquired about his and Ginny's relationship. He brushed it all off. His happiness couldn't be stolen, not today.
He apperated home, fully intending on all but running to his office to snatch up the divorce lawyer's information he had ready and waiting in his desk's top left drawer. He had obtained it years ago when he was drinking down his sorrows at a local pub, a friendly foriegn bloke who had offered a listening ear. They'd drunk down fire whiskeys and bonded over quittage, while sharing their own familial misfortunes. By the end of the night he had his business card burning a hole in his pocket.
Harry had toyed with the idea of leaving her for months twirling that card around and around, before finally chickening out at the thought of being left alone. He had locked it away, unable to toss it.
'Just in case.'
If he ever changed his mind, or felt brave enough to face the turning tides of the world alone again.
It was a courage he thought he had lost after the battle of Hogwarts.
If he was honest, he knew all the fight to chase after things that might make him happy had left him long before he was even face to face with Voldemort in that final battle.
But Hermione had always been his courage, she had always been by his side to remind him to get up, keep going, keep fighting. So it hardly surprised him that he felt empowered to leave his wife only now, when she had already taken that leap herself.
Bursting in the door he kept his steps brisk as he made his way towards his desk only slowing when he spied today's issue of the daily prophet, sat ready and waiting for him in the den.
He sighed.
His head of house elf Winky, insisted on providing it to him, believing it was a great way to keep him up to date on the everyday dealings of his estranged wife.
He didn't even try to tell her to stop anymore, though it was tiresome he knew she meant well and she reminded him so much of Dobby that he just didn't have the heart to tell her it didn't help.
Quite the opposite really, it only ever upset him.
The last edition he had actually bothered to read had left him with the distinct impression that there was more going on between his wife and Victor Krum than her extended coverage of his multi-quidditch cup championship team.
That had been nearly three months ago, and Ginny to his knowledge hadn't been home since.
He would've tossed it in the bin like he had every other edition previously, but this one highlighted a particularly eye-catching wizard's photo that depicted one Ginevra Potter in a rumpled bed covered by nothing but a sheet, and laying next to her was none-other than the "Bulgarian bonbon" himself.
"POTTER SCANDAL OF THE CENTURY!"
Was plastered across the top, and the lead article centered around the strained relationship that had become his life.
His phone rang out somewhere in the background but he hardly heard it as his eyes remained glued to the concrete evidence that proved to the rest of the world just how epically he had failed at life.
The shocked look on her face gave way to a self-satisfied smirk just before the image looped, the picture only gave him a glimpse; one most others wouldn't even catch but after spending decades arguing with her it was enough.
"She's done this on purpose."
His glass of fire whiskey on the rocks graciously prepared and set next to the article by Winky shattered, the ground began to tremble and the lights flickered out around him.
His blood was boiling, not because of his wife's infidelity, no he was in a rage the likes of which he hadn't felt since his fifth year at Hogwarts due solely to the fact that she had gotten 'caught'.
For the life of him he just couldn't figure out why.
Brilliant green lit up the now dark room, and heels clacked hurriedly across his hardwood flooring. He had just enough time to turn before she came barreling into him, only his battle hardened reflexes kept them standing, still stumbling back a few paces he startled as lean arms wrapped around his shoulders before squeezing with all their might.
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry…"
"Hermione?"