Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Foreword: Just a small story I thought up while I was musing in my thoughts. I admit that the story ran away from me for a bit. The whole premise was supposed to be Harry being accused by Hermione that he was acting like the Dursleys, but it grew from that. In the end, I couldn't find an end that I like, and simply ended it. You could say I had my own man from Porlock.

Normal

By Romantic Silence

"Honestly, Harry, I'm a little disappointed in you."

The last of the party guests have left; Ginny had placed a small peck on his cheek before she disappeared beyond the fires of the floo. Harry turned from the fireplace and found Hermione leaning against the archway that separated the living room and the dining room. Her arms were crossed, and she was looking away from him in a disinterested manner.

Harry released a calm breath, and ran his fingers through the mop he called hair; he would never get used to large social gatherings that lasted for more than a few hours. He smiled sheepishly at Hermione, and said, "That I wasn't able to propose to Ginny after all?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and walked over to the armchair she claimed as hers whenever she visited, promptly falling onto it; she sat leisurely as if she was in her own home. Harry could see her face twist in thought—evidence pointing that she had something she wanted to say, but her thoughts on the matter were not yet completely organised.

"The fact you want to propose to her at all is a disappointment," Hermione finally said; this time she was looking right at him.

Harry frowned, and his body became taut. It would be an understatement to say that he was caught surprise by her words. A part of him was quick to defend his intentions, and also to defend any intended insult on Ginny, but he was quick to remind himself that this was Hermione that was speaking to him. Was it not always Hermione's voice that he listened to in his head?

"Oh?" he asked nonchalantly, putting his hands in his pocket to avoid her seeing it turned into fists. "The war's over, most of the Death Eaters are gone, and I'm a full-fledged Auror now instead of a trainee. I reckon it was time to settle down."

"And that is all well and good, Harry." He could hear almost hear the 'but' at the end. "I can see it now, Harry. You're going to have a son a year within your marriage. Then the two of you will then decide to focus on your respective careers, and put off having children for a time. After some relative success as a Quidditch star, Ginny will decide to retire young to maintain her record and reputation. She will become her mother and be a housewife. Within three years, you will have two more children."

The more Hermione spoke, the more passionate she was becoming. Her eyes began to blaze with an emotion Harry could not identify. Her voice became harsher and harsher with every word until she was nearly shouting. Irritation began to become laced with her tone.

"And, worst of all, you will become nothing more than your average government worker hoping to become promoted in a few years time. People will look to you as their hero, glorifying you from actions you've done in the past. You're perfectly content with just living your life like this, and you will raise your children like a caring, spoiling father that I know you would be," Hermione finished, scowling in distaste by the end of it.

"And what's wrong with all of that?" Harry asked irritably, having grown annoyed with Hermione's ranting. "Isn't this what we fought for? So that we could all live a normal, peaceful life without the horrors of Voldemort and Death Eaters looming over us?"

Hermione was silent. She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Forget it, Harry."

This time, Harry could not abide being patient. "I just can't after you said all that! Where did all of that come from anyway?"

"I said forget it, Harry!"

"No!" He rebelled, glaring at her. "The other week you were absolutely ecstatic when I told you I was planning to propose to her tonight."

She failed to give a response.

He sighed, his gaze on her softening. Harry could never stay angry with her. Not anymore. He stood behind her, initiating a soft hug despite the difference in height and the armchair as an obstacle. He rested his chin on her bushy, brown hair, laughing inwardly that—just like his hair—it had never changed since they were children.

"Talk to me, Hermione. What's wrong?" he prodded her gently.

"It's not my place to say, Harry," Hermione replied, her hands reaching up to his, her digits coiling around his in a tight hold.

Harry chuckled. "Since when has that stopped you?"

"There is nothing wrong with you marrying Ginny and having a life like I described." Her eyes stared at the fire, her mind drifting to her thoughts on Harry's future. "But I just realised how superficial all this is. You marry Ginny. I marry Ron. We all become one big, happy Weasley family, right? It's the normal course of things to come."

"But..."

"But is this what we really want? I can't help but feel we're trying to run away from the memories of the war, trying desperately to seek something that is normal. We're no different from the Dursleys, people wanting nothing more than what we define as normal. What am I doing working in a bloody Ministry department just filling out paperwork? What are you doing wanting to chase dark wizards when you just want to have peace?

"Don't you see, Harry? We're doing nothing. In the end, all we're doing is what is expected of us—to do what is normal. Nothing has been resolved! I still can't forget Ron left us—me—during the Hunt, and I am expected to marry him? And I'm sure you still can't forget what Ginny told you at the end of sixth year can you? I feel as if we're not even in control of ourselves anymore, let alone our lives."

Harry did not know what to think. Instead, he simply accepted not to. Hermione squeezed him tight, wanting to let him know that it was okay for him to not answer. Silently—as it always been between Harry and Hermione—the two gathered themselves from the living room and into their respective rooms of Grimmauld Place to sleep for the night.

But as Harry lay awake in bed, Hermione's words could not leave his mind. Perhaps it was time for a change.