Hermione Granger was sick of being good. She was Harry's good friend, who never let him down. She was Ronald Weasly's good girlfriend. And if things continued this way she would be his good wife and his children's good mother. Ron talked about having kids some times.

"Yeah I always see us like my mum and dad, kids running around everywhere." He would smile wistfully, she could see the image of inexplicably red haired freckled children running amok in a house that looked curiously like a slightly larger Burrow.

Hermione wanted to ask where she would work in this fantasy world, because there was no way she could raise seven children and work at the same time. When she felt particularly in love with Ron she neglected this detail as he did, when she didn't she wanted to scream at the thought of never using her intellect for more then casting your everyday common spell or home schooling her wizard children.

As it was she was stuck in a job that she hated, in what could only be the wizarding equivalent of a cubical. She pushed paper work from one point to the next. Sometimes literally only flicking it around, onto someone else's desk to deal with. She too sometimes thought of the seemingly inevitable marriage between her and Ron. Hermione saw maybe one child in a small house, but she still had trouble seeing it.

The war was over and Hermione had never seen all of her friends living past the end of it. But they all had, the Weasly's had been fairly unscared and Harry had defeted evil and married Ginny, they already had one child and Ron talked incessantly about when he and Hermione would have a cousin for that one.

Hermione was sick of being good. So when Draco Malfoy slipped into her "office" she wasn't too surprised. He worked in the large office with a window veiw, though Hermione expected he did no less boring and trivial work then herself. He had gotten himself cleared, and a full pardon. He'd let aurors crawl inside his mind, leaving his every thought open to them. Harry had been one of those Aurors. Ron too. Hermione had been passed over as an aruror, a fact she thought wasn't fair. But really who was she to complain when in Ron's words. "You like books more then fighting 'Mione, really."

Oh that nickname. After all the trouble she had had getting Victor to say her name she was extatic to find a boyfriend who at least wouldn't murder what she thought of as a pretty name. Only Ron loved nicknames, he seemed more smitten with this woman "'Mione" then with the real Hermione that was with him. Mione wanted four million children, Mione was happy to stay at home.

"Granger, do you have the Klandesky files?"

"Draco, what do you see your self doing with a spouse?" Hermione asked looking up at him sharply.

"Giving me the Klandesky files" He said simply.

"No really."

Draco sighed and took a seat. "First off, my name is Malfoy to you, got it Granger?"

"Fine" Hermione said moodily.

"Second, I don't much care whats going on with you and the Weasel, you can have your little red headed children."

"They would have brown hair!" Hermione snapped. "Why does no one get this! I have brown hair, its as dominant gene! No one in my family has ever had red hair! It would be impossible for any child resulting from me and Ron would ever have red hair!"

Draco blinked. "Klandesky file?"

Hermione shoved them at him.

"Thank you Granger" Draco said, a little bit shaken up by the outburst.

Disclaimer: me no own,

Author's notes: Okay, so I was about to make this a cute little one shot, but then I decided to make it a little longer, maybe 5 chapters, next ones would be longer then this, but, tell me if you like it, I'm curious to know. Oh and Hermione's rant is direct from me. I hate the idea of red-headed children popping out of every woman who marries into the Weasly family, Its just not logical. This also means that any child Hermione and Draco had would most likely be brown haired. Unless she had a regressive blonde gene. Anyhow, Genetics ahoy!