Well hi, yes, should I be working on my other pieces? probably, but this one came out of nowhere. It may or may not reflect my own life (minus the pining Draco Malfoy, but you know if you're out there, feel free to let me know! ;) ) This will just be a series of one shots that give small windows into our favorite character's lives as they grow and change. Maybe I'll see you for Ron's in March?

September, September 19, 2009

Hermione Granger sat in an out of the way pub eating takeaway Jamaican food that would never be as good as her mother's on her 30th birthday. She nursed the ale she'd bought and thought about the shit show that the last few years had been.

Getting divorced at 28 years old was not exactly how she thought her life would be shaping up. The fact that Ronald Weasley didn't have the dignity to tell her that he wanted to explore again and just sort of pretended like nothing was wrong was frankly, unforgivable.

She'd spent most of the year before working on herself after a deep depression and didn't have the energy to do the normal amount of work she did to support Ron emotionally. In January they'd been trying/not trying to have a baby, as she finally felt like she was in a place professionally to start a family.

It had always been something they'd talked about as a future goal. Then in March he'd decided that no, he never wanted kids. She was shocked, they'd always talked about it. Frankly, it'd blindsided her. They had a trial separation and he was out almost every night while she scraped herself off the floor and attended sessions with a Mind Healer.

But it wasn't the right mind healer. She was very nice, of course, but she wasn't a Muggleborn and she didn't understand the difficulties of a bi-racial, nor a bi-cultural relationship. After a few sessions, Hermione called it quits. She began reading again and found that there was so much she'd missed.

She supposed that if she looked back there were plenty of red flags, not that Ron was a bad guy, just not the one for her. She'd found herself carrying him emotionally for ages and when she'd needed support, he'd fallen apart and blamed himself. This of course led Hermione to try to help him instead of herself which of course made her problems worse.

After a few weeks of separation, he wanted to get back together. She was willing to try, but only if they worked on their communication. He agreed. For a week or so, things seemed to be getting better, then he dropped this biggest bomb he could have.

"Mione," he said sheepishly, coming into the living room where she was reading a book. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Of course, what is it?" She asked.

"When we were separated, I uh," he rubbed the back of his neck, "IhadsexwithMarietta."

"You… you had sex with Marietta? Edgecomb?" she asked, stunned.

He nodded, "But uhm also I… er I…"

"Spit it out, Ronald," she spat, getting annoyed.

"I got a vasectomy."

She stared at him. Did he just say? He couldn't have said. No way. If she'd wanted to get her tubes tied, which she didn't but if she did a Healer would have had to sign off on it, she'd have had to attend multiple appointments with a mind healer and Ronald would have had to agree.

"You did what?" she asked quietly.

"I got a vasectomy," he said, still standing on the other side of the room. "I don't think the world needs more Weasleys."

"…What about Granger-Weasleys?" she whispered.

He flushed. "Look there is still a good chance that I have viable sperm we could…"

"I don't want to have a baby now," she said, blinking at him. "We're in a terrible place to bring a child into this world. I need some time Ronald."

"But I love you and-"

"Time."

He'd blatantly refused to reverse his vasectomy until he'd talked to Arthur. His father had been stunned and had talked him into reversing the procedure. Hermione couldn't hold with that though. He didn't do it for her or for them, but for his Father.

She'd quickly moved out into her own apartment and saw their friends draw lines in the sand. He'd started dating Marietta almost immediately. Hermione scoffed when she saw the pictures in the Prophet. She had assumed, apparently foolishly, that they'd be together for the rest of their lives.

The following year had been hard. Honestly more ups than downs, but she could definitely see why she was better off without him. Today was just… hard. She was thirty and it felt bigger than it needed to. She knew that Witches had a larger window for fertility than Muggles, but she couldn't get behind the idea that she could just wait.

She didn't look up when she felt someone sit across from her in the booth.

"Fancy seeing you here," the man drawled. She sighed, prepared to tell this stranger that she was in no mood to interact with strangers. "Hello Granger."

Hermione was utterly baffled to see Draco Malfoy sitting across from her in this dingy Muggle pub, smirking. "I'm not in the mood, Malfoy," she sighed.

They'd been coworkers for the past few years. Although he'd done his apologies almost immediately and they'd resolved their historic angst, by having an epic shag and it had all seemed to settle. He was still a total arse, of course, but now it was just pure sarcasm and snark and comments about her work.

"Don't tell me the Golden Girl is feeling blue about turning 30," he smirked.

"No, she's feeling blue because she thought she'd be a Mum or at least pregnant by her 30th birthday. She thought she'd already met her soulmate and was done dating. She thought that people would remember that she had a birthday…" she said heavily.

She looked up when he was silent for a few seconds and saw the most curious look on his face. "Granger, are you asking me to be your baby daddy?" he asked, not a hint of humour on his face.

Hermione snorted, "Only you would make my miserable 30th birthday about yourself, Malfoy."

He flushed at her barb, but seemed to steel himself. "You must know I'm mad for you?" She blinked at him. He what? "Don't give me that look," he scoffed, "l spend half the bloody day mooning after you. I make sure I'm in every meeting and task force you're in. I make sure to have my lunch at the same time as you. I bloody well followed you here on your birthday!"

"W-What are you talking about?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"Come on, Granger. Ever since you left the Weasel I've been trying to ask you on a date… don't tell me… you didn't know?" he ended awkwardly.

"How could I know l, Malfoy? I'm just the bloody swot you make fun of every day. I swear it's like you live to embarrass me. I'm sure this is some fucking elaborate plot to point out how undesirable I am. Unfortunately for you, unless you've brought a hidden audience, there is no one to laugh at your joke."

His jaw dropped and he was staring at her, shocked. "Really?" He whispered. "You think…"

She just glared at him. He lurched forward and kissed her hard. For a moment she let herself feel the kiss. It didn't feel like he was making fun of her…

She pushed him off. "Stop it! Enough, you've had your fun, now leave me to wallow in peace."

"Granger!" he said, loudly. "No one looks at you because I've made it so bloody obvious that I want you. They just assume…"

"What?" she scoffed, "That I'm a fucking commodity? Because you had me once, some antiquated patriarchal bullshit says I'm Yours?"

He let out the smaller little whimper and then cleared his throat. "No, I…" he swallowed heavily. "I'm yours."

Hermione blinked at him and stood, pushing her food aside and packing up her stuff angrily.

"Granger, please. I'm sorry I didn't think-"

"You're right, you didn't. You're not mine, because…because…"

"Because?" he whispered.

"Because I'm just Hermione Granger the spinster and divorcée."

"What do I need to do? How can I prove it to you?" he pleaded, following her to the door.

When they were in the street, she whipped around. "There is nothing, Malfoy. I'm just…" she huffed. "You're always so mean."

"I'm an arse, I'm sarcastic and I…" he trailed off, taking another step towards her. His eyes darted between her own.

She found herself looking down at his mouth and when she looked back into his eyes noticed that his pupils had dilated. What would it be like to just give in and let him kiss her again. To just feel for a moment. How long had it been? Months…

"Granger," he murmured, stepping forward again, "may I kiss you?"

She bit her lip and his eyes darted down to the movement. "Alright," she whispered.

He leaned forward and gently kissed her. This kiss was so unlike the one from inside the pub. It was gentle and he brought up his hand to cup her cheek.

"Bloody…" he muttered, "that was better than I could have-"

While she wholeheartedly agreed with his sentiment she didn't want to talk about it. She leaned forward and kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. She deepened the kiss, in for a penny in for a pound.

"Granger," he groaned, pulling away, but she just chased after his mouth, pulling him in for another kiss. "Granger… Hermione, stop."

She pulled away and took a step away from him. "I apologise for misreading the situation. I'll just be going." She apparated away without another thought.

An hour later, she found herself sprawled across her couch, eating from a container of ice cream in an old Granger Family Dentistry shirt and green plaid pyjama bottoms. She really was stupid. Surely Malfoy was spreading how desperate she was to all and sundry. She groaned and rested her head against the back of the couch. Her friends were throwing her a party that weekend, and in typical tradition, they'd each get her a book and it would all be rather quaint.

She'd cuddle her godchildren and play the happy birthday girl, all the while miserably ignoring the sense of emptiness that she'd been trying to ignore. How did one date as a divorcée? She wasn't totally sure, and reading Dating for Dummies hadn't helped a lick.

Suddenly a pounding at the door startled her. She went to the door and peeked out the peephole and was astounded to see Draco Malfoy. "I know you're there, Granger," he said louder than she'd have preferred. "Open the fucking door and talk to me like a grown up instead of hiding in your bloody flat. I will continue to pound at this door until the whole neighbourhood wakes up."

Hermione opened the door, but left the chain latched. Draco narrowed his eyes at her and she saw the chain break in half before her eyes. He pushed the door firmly open and shut it behind him. "You have to be the most bloody dense woman I've ever met. You're so fucking stubborn," he growled. He began to prowl towards her. She backed up, her spoon still covered in ice cream that was dripping down her hand.

"L-Look Malfoy," she stuttered, "we c-can just pretend it didn't ha-"

He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her again. "I can't get you out of my head. I thought we'd started something that night, but you avoided me for ages. So I took what I could get. Granger. Hermione. I want you, but I don't just want another shag, even if it will be bloody mind blowing. I want to take you on dates and introduce you as my girlfriend. I want to give you a baby or six if that's what you want. I want to have long discussions about the books we're reading and-"

"You… want me?" she asked, astounded. "But I'm just-"

"The most beautiful woman in every room? The smartest person I've ever met? The only person who can snark back almost as well as I can?" Draco asked, still holding her neck. "Granger, please, I've been waiting for ages to get up the courage to tell you, but if you want me to go, I will. Just know that if you let me stay, I'm staying, forever if you'll let me."

"Y-You can stay," she whispered.

"Granger, you have to be sure about this, I-" he swallowed, "I'm all in. I don't want to-"

She kissed him firmly, wrapping her arms around his neck yet again. "I'm not sleeping with you tonight," she said when she pulled away, "but you're to go out and get another pint of ice cream and we're going to watch When Harry Met Sally."

"Whatever you want, love," he murmured, pecking a kiss on her lips. "Butter Pecan?"

"How did you-?" she asked astounded.

"Hermione, I've been bloody in love with you since about fifth year, and then you brought me home with you last year and I was sure…"

"Y-Fifth year?" she blinked.

"You're obtuse, Granger," he said with a smirk. "Anything else for the birthday girl? Maybe a bottle of wine?"

"I-" she sighed, "alright, we can and will discuss this later."

Maybe thirty wouldn't be so bad…

I hope you enjoyed! Or like found it relatable? Or just really read it, I'm good with that too.