Hermione jabbed her wand at the magical cooktop. It was so old, even her grandmother would have found it out-of-date. "Light!" she muttered.
The decrepit appliance did not light.
"Light, damn it, light!"
It remained stubbornly unlit.
Hermione sighed. This was why she usually kept it lit overnight; the stove was so old and finicky that she could rarely turn it back on once it was off. "Harry!" she shouted. "Can you fix the cooktop?"
"In a mo'!" he shouted back from the adjacent room.
"Now, Harry!"
"I said give me a moment, Hermione!"
Slumping against the worn counter, Hermione let out a world-weary sigh. This wasn't how she expected her life to turn out, not even in her worst nightmares.
When Voldemort returned at the end of their fourth year, she'd been worried sick. Even then she knew that Harry would have to face Voldemort on his own. So, she put her smarts to good use and came up with a plan. She and Harry went to the Order and demonstrated how to reveal the scores of Death Eater sympathisers hidden in the government with the help of truth serums and memory charms. Once they were identified, it was a simple matter to compulse them to reveal their crimes over the course of their fifth year. By the end of the year, most if not all of the Death Eaters were locked away. Voldemort had been furious, revealing himself at the end of June, but Dumbledore had duelled him to a standstill, with Harry delivering the final blow. Even when it was revealed that Voldemort had created Horcruxes, it was no trouble at all the retrieve and destroy them over the summer. Once sixth year started, Voldemort had been an unpleasant memory.
The first of several, Hermione thought as Harry finally appeared. Her husband's glasses were askew and his Muggle shirt and jeans were covered in an unknown substance.
"Took your time, didn't you?"
Harry groaned. "Don't you start, Hermione." He flicked his wand at the stove, and the fire lit brilliantly. Another flick animated the kettle, and it set itself over the grate like a chicken over an egg.
He put away his wand. "If that's it, then..." Harry left without a second glance.
Pulling out a chair from the kitchen table, Hermione unceremoniously seated herself while she waited for the water to boil, pushing her bushy hair out of her face.
Sixth year was supposed to be the start of something great. She had finally confessed to Harry that she loved him during that summer, and to her surprise, he loved her back. The Weasleys were split on their budding relationship. Arthur was puzzled but accepting, as were Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George. Percy kept his feelings to himself, but she got the sense he didn't quite approve.
Molly, Ginny, and Ron, however... they didn't take well to it. Molly was upset that Hermione had supposedly lead her youngest two children on - Ginny as a friend, and Ron as a boyfriend - and distanced herself from the younger witch. Ginny was a shadow of her once fiery self. Ron handled it the worst. During their entire stay at the Burrow that summer, Ron would sneer, make catty comments and generally act like a complete arse around them, and not like a friend. By the time sixth year started, Harry was tired of the constant antagonism. It wasn't long before he had cut off the offending Weasleys completely.
But she wasn't satisfied with that.
The Potter family was a relatively unknown one, but even they had a Wizengamont seat. With her urging, Harry took up his seat that September. Hermione was his second in command, appointed to make decisions if he was unwilling or unable to do so.
Hermione pulled her worn-out jumper over her hands as the top of the kettle bubbled. That was the start of our downfall.
Being Harry Potter's girlfriend was an ego boost like none other, and she took the power like a Niffler took to shiny objects. After being bullied, mocked and insulted her entire life for one reason or another, she wanted payback.
And the first on her list was Ron and Molly Weasley.
The young witch had started a smear campaign against Molly that soon spread to the whole Wizarding World. Things started off small at first. During press interviews, Hermione would drop subtle comments about the Weasley matriarch whenever they were asked about the Weasley family. They would bring up Ginny's temper and inability to keep a steady relationship and Arthur Weasley's work ethic.
For Ron, things were even easier. Being in the same House and year as the youngest Weasley boy meant they could influence who would and wouldn't talk to him. Slowly but surely, the entire House shunned him.
But Weasleys back their own.
Once Ginny figured out what they were doing, a letter to her parents quickly started their downfall - that is, Harry and Hermione's.
Quite suddenly, they were uninvited to every family event, refused admittance to functions for slander, and shunned at all places of Harry's fame. The media picked up on it quickly; pictures of Hermione's smug smirks of "victory" splashed across every magazine, while whispers of their animosity towards a family of whom Harry had made such a brave stand to protect followed them whenever they walked down the street. If he could do that to the Weasleys, who else would they do it to?
Hermione's lips tightened. The water boiled over, steaming and sizzling its way down the side of the pot, but she didn't seem to care. They had used the Weasleys as stepping stones, and by doing so, had unknowingly broken the platform they had been standing on. Had Sirius still lived, they could have overcome the boycott. If only he hadn't worn the Gaunt ring! But he hadn't, and now there was no one willing to help them. After all, what good was money when no one would accept it? What good was near-perfect exam scores when nobody would hire you? What good was staying together when the spark was gone?
They took things too far. No, Hermione thought as she finally took the kettle off. I took things too far. Her friendship with Ron - with anyone, in fact - came second to her friendship with Harry, let alone their relationship, but she thought that Harry would want revenge as well. She thought that she knew best.
I wish I had listened to him.
Hermione gently brewed two cups of chamomile, her eyes lingering over the familiar kitchen they had shared for the past three years.
Worst of all, Harry could hardly stand to look at their son.
It was only because she had gotten pregnant towards the end of their seventh year that Harry was still with her. Hermione knew that, for all Harry's faults, he would never willingly abandon his children. But she knew in her heart of hearts that he believed that she had baby-trapped him, and he would never believe otherwise.
Adding a lump of sugar into her tea, Hermione stirred with her wand as she glanced at the picture of the week-old Prophet.
Weasley-Greengrass Marriage Exclusive!
The moving, full-colour picture of Ron and Astoria's wedding was everything she had wanted her wedding to be. If not for her pregnancy, then perhaps...
She sipped at her tea. The sweetness wasn't enough to drown the bitterness in her heart. Could she have gone about things differently? Did she make the wrong decision?
"Hermione!" called Harry. Her husband's voice sounded exasperated as the shouts of their son echoed in their empty home.
Sighing, Hermione Potter (née Granger) put her cup down. What's done is done, she thought as she stood up.
It seemed like romantic storybooks weren't meant to be.
