A/N: Hello, everyone! This is my first attempt at a story that won't be a One-shot. I hope that you all will enjoy the beginning of the story, as well as review, follow, or favorite. I will continue the story if anyone seems interested. Now that I'm over with that, please enjoy and read on.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter World. It belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 1: Hermione's Life

Just around noon

I sat alone in the living room of my home, contemplating the choices and directions my life took me to.

I had been a wife for twelve years now, to none other then Ronald Bilius Weasley. Ronald popped the question when we were just nineteen years old , both of us very madly in love with each other.

We married a year later to fanfare, and well wishes from family, friends, and the entire wizarding world. RONALD WEASLEY MARRIES GOLDEN GIRL HERMIONE GRANGER, the papers read. I often spent my time, remembering when we were both truly happy, or so I thought in my young-minded naivety.

I now had two children who both attended Hogwarts; my daughter Rose, born two years after the wedding, was now fourteen years old; my son Hugo, was born just a year after his sister, was now twelve years old. Both children had inherited the Weasleys' famous red hair, and were the greatest treasures a mother could ask for.

I was also the Senior Vice-President at Flourish and Blotts. I attainted that position by working hard, by applying my vast knowledge of books, and by gaining the store countless customers through advertisements in foreign wizarding locations, as well as obtaining rare book collections not seen in random bookshops.

My love of books had never faded with time, much to the dismay of my husband Ronald.

I managed the store so well, that I often didn't need to go in on a regular basis, but chose to, rather than go home to an empty house.

Ronald was an accomplished Auror, with a great reputation for "always getting his guy." After the war, both Harry and Ron became Aurors to help catch the rest of the Death Eaters who had managed to get away.

He wasn't home much, due to his busy schedule, and when he was home, he avoided me at all costs.

We simply had too many differences that neither of us noticed before their marriage. As a result of this, we grew out of love, and carried a mild resentment for each other that we couldn't quite shake off.

We did however, care very deeply for each other, and held each other in great regard due to our friendship that had spanned twenty eight years.

I remembered when he would jokingly call me boring, or when he told me repeatedly that I "needed to live a little" throughout the years. Nothing I ever tried, uncomfortable as it made me, was good enough for him.

Hurt and sad, I had simply equated it with Ron not being interested in my personality and cleverness, two things that had made her into the smartest witch of her age.

He never asked her the common questions that husbands should ask their wives - "How was work?", "What's new with you?", "How is that book you're reading?". It broke me inside, but I eventually accepted it, and tried my best to move on.

Another problem we faced was their lack of passion in the bedroom.

Having never had another lover, I wasn't quite sure exactly what I was missing.

But, my feelings of unease after making love to my husband clued me into something being amiss.

It could have been the constant rumors of Ronald's affairs that wounded me so greatly, or that I could not stand to have any marital relation with him.

Now, embarrassingly for me, it had been years since I have had any sex whatsoever. Ronald and I simply developed a relationship built on friendship, respect, and comfort, for the children's sake.

He either slept in the sofa bed in his office, or, when he did come home-infrequently as it was-he slept on the couch. The lack of sex, and him working "all nighters" were never discussed; they were merely accepted by both parties.

I awoke with a start; I had fallen asleep reading, an occurrence that happened more often than I liked.

Looking at the clock, I realized that I was running late to my afternoon tea with my best friend Ginny. We both grew quite close during our husbands' Auror training, and during the dangerous missions that they were constantly on.

I quickly jumped up to recheck my hair, and put on a little cherry lip gloss, and sprayed on a douse of perfume.

My dresser was full of assorted perfumes, for I loved smelling good, and I always put in some effort into looking nice.

That was one complaint my husband could never make about me:I always tried to look my best. Over-the-top make-up and super-high heels, were out of the question, so I put on a pair of decent-sized heels, and was off.

I arrived at my favorite tea shop, named Tea Time, and noticed that Ginny had already arrived, looking flustered at being made to wait. Ginny noticed me in the entryway, and waved me over.

"About time, Hermione! What took you so long? You know I have to get to practice by one o'clock," Ginny complained.

"I'm so sorry Ginny, I fell asleep."

"Was it another boring book? Or did you not get any sleep last night?" She smirked, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

"Hey! I love my boring book, thank you very much! Oh, what am I saying? It was not boring. All of the books I read are quite interesting," I told her.

"I'm only joking, I've missed you so much, Hermione. I'm sorry I haven't been spending much time with you lately- with the kids, Quidditch practice, and Harry never wanting out of my knickers, I've been very busy as you can tell." She laughed cheerily.

I just smiled, not being able to relate or tell her that my marriage was now over.

"Yeah," I said simply, trying to sound happy for her.

Ginny and Harry's sex life was just as hot and heavy as it had been since the beginning. They still went at each other like rabbits, or horny teenagers whenever they got the chance.

I constantly had to hear Ginny go on about how many orgasms this, and how many orgasms that.

She must have realized how dejected I looked, as she quickly changed the subject.

Ginny knew very little about my marriage problems, so she tried to ignore them the best that she could.

The Weasleys' believed that marriage was for life. The word "divorce" wasn't really a taboo in the wizarding world, but it was extremely frowned upon, if anything.

"So, are you going to be able to make it to mom's birthday party?," asked Ginny. "She'll be mad if you don't go. You missed it last year, remember, and I won't make excuses for you this time."

"I don't know, I'll see if I can-"

"You'd better," she interrupted, "Oh my goodness, look at the time! I've got to run or I'll be late to practice." Ginny played for the Holyhead Harpies, and was an amazing flier.

"But we haven't even had tea yet," I protested.

"I already had a cup while I was waiting for you, silly." She kissed me on the cheek, and hugged me goodbye.

"Bye, Ginny. I'm sorry we don't get to visit very much. I'll see you soon, I hope."

"Mom's birthday!" she yelled, running out the shop.

I sat alone, debating on whether to order some tea or to go back home to my empty flat, when a waitress approached me, " I'm so sorry for the wait, Mam. What can I get you?" she asked.

"Um… I'll have Earl Gray with cream, please."

"Anything else?" She asked me.

"No. Just the tea, thank you."

I have never had much of an appetite, which is how I'd been able to maintain my figure over the years. Ginny complained often, explaining to me that her figure was due to many hours playing Quidditch, and how lucky I was to be naturally thin.

The waitress came back with my tea, and set it down in front of me before walking away. I was about to pick up and enjoy my cup of tea, when in walked Draco Malfoy.