Hi to all my loyal fans. Sorry, I know you can't live without me. No, just kidding! I hope you'll read and enjoy my newest story! Please review!
"Ron, I've told you, I don't know how many times, please don't mess about with muggle items. You are turning into your father!" sighed Hermione, exasperated as Ron sat pondering over a toaster that he had taken apart and was examining closely, occasionally yelping when sparks flew out. Hermione shook her head and pulled the plug out of the socket before he got any further. "Do you realise how dangerous it is to mess about with electric while the plug is in?" she asked incredulously but he still wasn't listening.
"Sure Hermione, its great, isn't it?" Ron replied, causing her to roll her eyes and walk off into the lounge, furnished with mahogany furniture and soft, terracotta colourings, in the old muggle fashion, the way Hermione had always imagined her own home. She had not, however, imagined to be living in such a predictable life, with a fiancee who had turned out just like his dad, a loveable but eccentric muggle worshipper. She wanted more than this, more excitement, more vivace, more life.
'What's the use?', she thought, 'This life isn't that bad, I guess, just a little tedious.' She threw herself down on the sofa, her chocolate brown curls resting on her face, irritating her until she blew them out of the way. Not long out of school, two years to be exact, she wondered how Ron could be so, so what? So boring? After all the adventures they had had in school, how could he be so resigned and comfortable? 'Maybe he's had enough adventures,' she thought, looking of the picture of Harry, and wishing he was here to talk to, and not in Australia, working on Ministry business, with the other aurors. She, herself had been offered a job teaching at Hogwarts, but had told Dumbledore she had had enough study for a few years and just wanted a few years to relax, before she considered work, a welcome change from the old, work-orientated Hermione. So why was she so unsatisfied?
Ron dropped the screwdriver, and looked at his watch.
"12am? Jeez, Hermione is going to be annoyed with me," He sighed. He didn't understand the change in Hermione lately. She had become too tetchy, and she always seemed to be on his case. He had learned to tune out her incessant nagging, but it still wound him up. She had never complained before, 'Why now?' he questioned himself, 'She can't be unhappy with our life, it's so comfortable. Nice house, nice friends, nice estate.' Wasn't 'nice' what everyone wanted? Ron certainly thought so, but it seemed it wasn't enough for Hermione anymore. He knew she wasn't happy, but he just didn't know why. 'If only she'd open up to me,' he related, 'But she won't and I can't make her.' He walked into the lounge and saw her sleeping softly on the sofa. Picking up the burgundy velvet throw, he lay it over her in case she should feel cold in the night, switched off the light and whispered 'Love you, 'Mione', before going to bed, never once realising that this would be the last time he ever saw Hermione threw his own eyes.
Stirring gently, Hermione fluttered her eyes open as the sun bounced off the walls in the room, another bright and sunny day.
'And another morning I've woken up on the sofa, the result of waiting for him to come to bed,' she thought, slightly annoyed that it had occurred again. 'Thats it, I have to get out!' Hermione got up, throwing the blanket on the floor, and dashing into the shower, throwing on a simple vest top and jeans that flared at the knee, complimenting her curvacious body, grabbed her bag and left, leaving a note for Ron; 'Gone shopping, love Hermione'.
Five hours later, Hermione felt slightly revived. Not as much as she would have liked, granted, but more alive than when she had left in the morning. She toyed with the idea of having a barbeque the next day, and inviting some friends who she'd like to catch up with, while the weather was holding up. She clutched the bags in her hand, swinging them back and forth, blissfully unaware of the different scenarios that she passed, happy to be in the sun and not worrying about anything in particular. As she turned the corner onto her street, heading for her two-storey detached house, nothing crossed her mind. Turning the key in the door, she hummed to herself, almost innocently, and pushed the door open. Walking into the lounge, she was greeted with the sight of Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape and she knew something was wrong, and that her life was about to take a completely new path.
*Please read and review! Thank ya!*
"Ron, I've told you, I don't know how many times, please don't mess about with muggle items. You are turning into your father!" sighed Hermione, exasperated as Ron sat pondering over a toaster that he had taken apart and was examining closely, occasionally yelping when sparks flew out. Hermione shook her head and pulled the plug out of the socket before he got any further. "Do you realise how dangerous it is to mess about with electric while the plug is in?" she asked incredulously but he still wasn't listening.
"Sure Hermione, its great, isn't it?" Ron replied, causing her to roll her eyes and walk off into the lounge, furnished with mahogany furniture and soft, terracotta colourings, in the old muggle fashion, the way Hermione had always imagined her own home. She had not, however, imagined to be living in such a predictable life, with a fiancee who had turned out just like his dad, a loveable but eccentric muggle worshipper. She wanted more than this, more excitement, more vivace, more life.
'What's the use?', she thought, 'This life isn't that bad, I guess, just a little tedious.' She threw herself down on the sofa, her chocolate brown curls resting on her face, irritating her until she blew them out of the way. Not long out of school, two years to be exact, she wondered how Ron could be so, so what? So boring? After all the adventures they had had in school, how could he be so resigned and comfortable? 'Maybe he's had enough adventures,' she thought, looking of the picture of Harry, and wishing he was here to talk to, and not in Australia, working on Ministry business, with the other aurors. She, herself had been offered a job teaching at Hogwarts, but had told Dumbledore she had had enough study for a few years and just wanted a few years to relax, before she considered work, a welcome change from the old, work-orientated Hermione. So why was she so unsatisfied?
Ron dropped the screwdriver, and looked at his watch.
"12am? Jeez, Hermione is going to be annoyed with me," He sighed. He didn't understand the change in Hermione lately. She had become too tetchy, and she always seemed to be on his case. He had learned to tune out her incessant nagging, but it still wound him up. She had never complained before, 'Why now?' he questioned himself, 'She can't be unhappy with our life, it's so comfortable. Nice house, nice friends, nice estate.' Wasn't 'nice' what everyone wanted? Ron certainly thought so, but it seemed it wasn't enough for Hermione anymore. He knew she wasn't happy, but he just didn't know why. 'If only she'd open up to me,' he related, 'But she won't and I can't make her.' He walked into the lounge and saw her sleeping softly on the sofa. Picking up the burgundy velvet throw, he lay it over her in case she should feel cold in the night, switched off the light and whispered 'Love you, 'Mione', before going to bed, never once realising that this would be the last time he ever saw Hermione threw his own eyes.
Stirring gently, Hermione fluttered her eyes open as the sun bounced off the walls in the room, another bright and sunny day.
'And another morning I've woken up on the sofa, the result of waiting for him to come to bed,' she thought, slightly annoyed that it had occurred again. 'Thats it, I have to get out!' Hermione got up, throwing the blanket on the floor, and dashing into the shower, throwing on a simple vest top and jeans that flared at the knee, complimenting her curvacious body, grabbed her bag and left, leaving a note for Ron; 'Gone shopping, love Hermione'.
Five hours later, Hermione felt slightly revived. Not as much as she would have liked, granted, but more alive than when she had left in the morning. She toyed with the idea of having a barbeque the next day, and inviting some friends who she'd like to catch up with, while the weather was holding up. She clutched the bags in her hand, swinging them back and forth, blissfully unaware of the different scenarios that she passed, happy to be in the sun and not worrying about anything in particular. As she turned the corner onto her street, heading for her two-storey detached house, nothing crossed her mind. Turning the key in the door, she hummed to herself, almost innocently, and pushed the door open. Walking into the lounge, she was greeted with the sight of Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape and she knew something was wrong, and that her life was about to take a completely new path.
*Please read and review! Thank ya!*