A/N: Chapter Thirty-Nine! I'll post something either today or tomorrow, involving Hermione's breakup with Nott and why he took such an extreme route. Look for it in my blog. Link in my bio. Also (because I know people will ask about it after reading this chapter) we have not seen the last of him.

And, now, a moment of silence for all the tumultuous breakups, mascara tears and 90's ballads that shaped me into the woman I am today.

Sad and alone.

Kidding.

I mean, I am alone and I am sad (on occasion) but those characteristics are not in direct correlation with one another. Well, they kind of are, but the feminist in me would beg to differ. Also, I've had some wine. Shocker.

Life Lesson #1: Finding a significant other should not be endgame, and should not, under any circumstances, be ones source for happiness and fulfillment.

Something I learned (the hard, humiliating way) was relationships are fleeting. It's true, feelings and memories remain, but people do not — and I don't mean that in a depressing, existential sense. It works more as a coping mechanism than anything else. Once I accepted the fact that my friendships and relationships were not set in stone, the weight of what happened had lessened — minute after painful minute.

I could breathe again.

Life Lesson #2: Chocolate heals all wounds.

Life Lesson #3: Casual sex does not.

One Year Later

I hated morning people — with deep, blinding passion.

I hated their bright, bubbly personalities and their penchant for smalltalk. Merlin, the sheer number of times I'd been forced to endure conversation before the stroke of six.

More than anything, I hated the fact that I used to be one of them.

It's a little redundant to say — since, well, you know — but things had changed. I'd never felt so unlike myself, so unhinged and so comfortable with it. I woke up at a reasonable hour (instead of five in the morning, as I used to do) and I made sure to travel at least once a month — if even for the weekend. My new responsibilities at the Auror Office made this possible. I dealt with cases all around the country, head on, in place of Harry as he was a new father and wished to be home with his family should his schedule permit it.

I understood his disposition (and envied it, from time to time) but I felt, more than that, that I simply wished to leave.

It took me six months to gather the courage to go back to the house in Puddlemere and pack my belongings. Even then, Daphne had to be there, helping me through it — and because she's ace, she went ahead and did the work. I simply sat there, in the lounge, glancing around like a lost puppy, whilst she bustled in and out of the room with her wand out, directing various items (such as clothing, books and other belongings of mine) into boxes.

In the six months that followed, I managed to settle into the same flat I had shared with Ginny — prior to her marriage.

It was bizarre being back there, but I needed a place to say — a home. I had been moving in and out of various hotels, within London and sometimes further, and although it was refreshing to be alone, free to cry as I pleased…I knew I had to move on and I had to do so without taking advantage of my friends. Both Ginny and Daphne made it clear that I was welcome to stay with them, at their respective houses, offers to which I kindly declined, as I knew they were worried and also, for my own ego.

I wasn't a teenager — not anymore. I was twenty-seven-years-old and more than capable of looking after myself.

That in mind, I moved into that flat, into that same bedroom, and simply sat there the first night, reminded of everything that had happened on that very bed.

But even those feelings were difficult to place.

It was a different lifetime.

From there, the wine kicked in, as it did most nights.

Mornings, however…

I had a routine.

I rose from bed, showered, brushed my teeth, dried my hair, dressed in clothes, had a spot of breakfast (consisting of granola and sometimes English pancakes, on the rare occasion that I rose early enough to make them) and went straight to work. In the office, I was usually bombarded with stacks upon stacks of paperwork, most of which I was too paranoid to hand off to an assistant. I would then spend the next three or four hours handling said paperwork and prioritizing between other, more important responsibilities (such as attending hearings and putting criminals behind bars) after which I would return to my office and realize it was an hour after lunch. Damn, missed it again. From there, I would slow down a little, ignoring the gentle, sometimes aggressive rumble of my stomach and power through the rest of the day, which usually consisted of more hearings and more paperwork, and the occasional arrest.

Then there were was that one week, every month, wherein Harry would send me to some obscure location with a group of Junior Aurors. Our instructions were simple. Detain the criminal without alerting Muggles that we were magic folk. I was given free reign to do as I pleased, which was obvious damage control on Harry's part, as I still hadn't forgiven him for his involvement in what happened. His wife was no exception.

Little James, on the other hand, was the cutest, chubbiest, most adorable blob I had ever seen.

I made frequent stops at the baby shop near my flat, and made sure to purchase a wide variety of clothing and toys, ones that I knew would annoy Harry and Ginny. The louder and the more buttons, the better. Don't judge! It was all in good fun, and they took it in stride. Plus, James loved me for it. I was, without a doubt, his favourite aunt.

His first word was my-knee.

Think about it.

Sound it out.

Ah, there we go!

Now that we're all caught up, I'll move on to what happened in March of that same year — 2007.

Three Broomsticks

Daphne and the gang congregated in our old hangout, on an evening we were sure students wouldn't be lurking, in order to celebrate Ron's twenty-seventh birthday. I smiled, proud of him and the fact that he had, finally, proposed to Daphne and put that gorgeous ring on her finger. Due to my hectic work schedule, I hadn't been there to witness the proposal, but Astoria assured me it was sickeningly romantic.

Strange that she should be my closest female friend during this phase of my life — but I found it increasingly difficult to be around Daphne and Ginny, as their priorities were so different from mine. Ginny had child to look after and planned to have another. Daphne was in a similar situation, with wedding planning and things of that nature. I found, quite suddenly, that I had nothing in common with them — not anymore.

Astoria, however, was on my wavelength.

"What d'you reckon he's packing under those trousers?" she asked me, tossing one look at Shen Chang.

I gaped at her, stifling the fit of laughter that tickled my throat. "First of all, he's an eighteen-year-old boy. Second…" I looked at him, tilting my head to the side for a brief moment. "You know what — no. You're not corrupting me."

She laughed, knocking back another drink. "Admit it. You're into him. Just a little."

"I'm not into him."

"Into whom?" Blaise asked, slipping into our conversation.

Astoria pointed to the young, Hogwarts graduate.

I should explain.

Shen was there as one of Daphne's guests, having taken the Healer route, and made the decision to attend Healer School in London, as opposed to Hong Kong, where his Aunt Cho had gone to complete her education. As it turned out, Daphne had interviewed him during his application process into the London School of Healing and was so impressed with him, that she insisted on mentoring him and that he join her team during his residency — not for another couple years.

Blaise looked at him, a firm arch in his brow. "Isn't he twelve?"

"Yes — No —" both myself and Astoria said in response, respectively.

I looked at her then, with obvious disdain. "You're a terrible influence."

"Oh, quit being such a prude," she scoffed at me, with that familiar up-to-no-good look in her eyes. "I think you should go over there and talk to him."

" — about what?" the musician furthered, amused.

I tapped my chin, pretending to think. "An abundance of things, such as…the latest generation of Pokémon or his favourite meal on the McDonald's kids menu, or —"

" — Poké what?" both Blaise and Astoria interjected.

"Muggle thing," I quickly explained. "Point is, he's too young."

Astoria rolled her eyes. "You're no fun."

I smiled, sipping my butterbeer.

"What about him?" she then asked, pointing across the room — to Charlie. "Merlin knows he's been sneaking looks at you all night."

For no apparent reason, I followed her line of vision and found him, standing there, chatting with Harry and Ginny about Merlin knows what, with butterbeer in one hand and little James in the other. It was odd that my friends trusted him (more of a klutz than Ron had ever been) with their child, but from what I could see, he did know how to hold a baby, providing ample neck support and the whole nine.

Strange.

I downed the remainder of my drink, in the sudden mood for something alcoholic.

"Go on," Astoria encouraged, shooting me a quick wink. " — before some random bint snatches him up."

I ignored her suggestive inserts with a smooth smile and looked across the venue, at him, as he returned James to his parents and fell into comfortable silence, on his own, drink in hand. It went without saying that Charlie was the friendliest, most interesting of the Weasley men — but I had never looked at him as anything more than Ron and Ginny's older brother. To me, he was Charlie Weasley, the one that worked with dragons. I knew close to nothing about him, other than the fact that he liked animals and used to be Seeker for House Gryffindor — before Harry.

In that moment, his eyes found mine and he smiled.

It was a friendly smile, nothing remotely suggestive or indicative that he wanted me in anything other than an appropriate, platonic capacity. For all I could tell, he still viewed me as the bushy-haired Head Girl that bossed his youngest brother around. I had no idea what was going through his head — but for some reason, I wanted to find out.

I returned his smile and waved to him, surprised when he tilted his head, as though he were motioning for me to come over.

"Ball's in your court, Granger…" Blaise added, now in agreement with Astoria and her merciless goading.

I should explain that the pair of them were now dating, after months upon months of maintaining their friends with benefits status. It was a good thing, too, because I was sure those situations never turned out well. Surprisingly, Blaise was the one to initiate their newfound exclusivity. I was proud of both of them for being so brave and willing, as catching feelings for a friend was a tough thing to handle. Should the relationship turn bad, not only do you lose a significant other — but a friend as well.

Something that should be a permanent fixture. Right?

For a moment, I closed my eyes, ignoring the emotion that thrashed within my chest, before rising from the table and making my way to other side of the pub — to Charlie.

A/N: Thoughts?

Cheers

xo.