Disclaimer: Would you feel sorry for me if I told you I didn't own Harry Potter?

A/N: Yet another short, humorous one-shot.

Happy Ending?

Ron stomped angrily past the door and Harry had to dodge to avoid being hit by the heavy obstacle. He peeked around the door and saw Hermione standing there looking rather baffled.

"What happened?" He asked

"I have no idea." Hermione said. "All we were doing was talking and then he shouts that I've no understanding of Quidditch and storms off." she blinked at the sound of a door at the front of the house slamming.

"Oh. Well, he does know we have a Dark Lord we need to defeat, right?" Harry questioned.

"You're absolutely certain we end up together?" Hermione asked, ignoring his first question and looking thoughtfully at the ceiling dust Ron had knocked loose.

Harry shrugged. "That's what the book said."

"What in the world do we talk about?" Hermione turned her gaze to him.

"Probably not that much. Ron's more a man of action, if you get what I'm saying." Harry said honestly.

Hermione wrinkled up her nose. "Ew. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why him?"

"Ah, that. Well, I suppose it's the mistaken belief that every argument between a male and female is coated in sexual tension. Though if that were true, you'd probably end up with Malfoy." Harry answered.

"Harry, he's a bigoted git and a spineless coward. He's not even that good looking!" Hermione protested. "He's not even decently evil! He's just spoiled."

"That's not what the fanfiction writers would have it. Apparently he turned into a blue-eyed Adonis while we weren't looking." Harry moved past the doorframe, consigning himself to a long conversation.

"Harry, his eyes are grey."

Harry shrugged. "Insignificant detail. At least you'd get away with producing only a half-blood heir if you went with him instead of Ron."

Hermione looked horrified. "You mean I'm going to turn into a Molly Weasely? What about proving myself? Freeing house elves and fighting for centaur rights? Befriending vampires? Perhaps being an Ambassador to another nation? I speak several languages. Or even becoming the Minister of Magic and cleaning up the whole mess myself, or even using my wits and love of knowledge to become an Unspeakable for goodness sake!" She was shaking as she ended her rant.

Harry shook his head. "Nope. You don't even get to be a department head. You toil away at the Ministry in a dead-end job and spend the rest of your time mothering your three children."

"I have three children?"

"Two actually if you don't count Ron."

"Oh. But Harry," Hermione wailed, "I hate children. When have I even given an indication I wanted children? My parents didn't even want children!"

"Well, maybe you should go for an older man then. Lucius Malfoy?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "He is absolutely delightful to look at, but he's married for one, and for two he's be a rather irritating pet, despite where his hair and social connections could get me. Now, be reasonable Harry. Who is someone I could actually end up with?"

"Severus Snape?"

"Well, the man is an intellectual, with an artist's hands and a voice to die for, but this time I don't think I'm worthy of him. There is simply too much of the tortured, dark, Byronic anti-hero to compete with. He has the most wonderful sarcastic dry wit. And he's not terrible looking either. I would kill to be able to wear robes like that." Hermione sighed wistfully.

"What about me?" Harry asked levelly, though thoroughly irked by his best friend's sentiments toward their snarky potions professor.

Hermione turned a baleful glare in his direction. "I said be serious. It'd be like friends with benefits for the next ninety years of my life. And you won't be the focused, determined hero forever. Besides, I don't need a man whose hair can compete with mine for messiness. Could you imagine the children?"

Mortally offended, Harry was quick in his response, "Well, we can't all be Tom Riddle can we?"

"What are you talking about Harry?" Hermione asked impatiently. "Tom Riddle may have a massive intellect and be exceptionally powerful, but he's also a disgusting pale thing."

"You only saw him post-Horcrux. Pre-Horcrux he was the thing of girl's fantasies. In fact when I kissed Ginny the other day I swear she muttered 'Tom' under her breath." he finished bitterly.

"Really?" Hermione asked, sounding disturbingly intrigued for Harry's taste.

"Of course not. Come on. We have souls to destroy." he headed for the door.

Hermione followed him out the door, but her eyes were speculative.