Hello everyone! I'm TheMissMegan! I've been a member of this website for a long time but I'm just now starting to write my own fanfiction. This is the very first work I'm submitting so please be honest with your reviews. I love Harry Potter immensely, I have since I was ten years old! It's an honor to be able to create my own storyline with the wonderful characters JK Rowling brought to life.

I don't own anything Harry Potter related, other than my own plot points. Enjoy!

XOXOX TheMissMegan

Hermione was proud of the work laid out in front of her. After years of procrastination and writers block, she was finally done with her book. Printed and in perfect order, it was ready to be sent to her publisher. It was a labor of love, even though most of the time she wanted to rip her hair out while working on the blasted thing. But she actually finished it. After months of revisions and edits, she was convinced it was perfect. Her editor would jump for joy...

"Hey 'Mione?" Hermione jumped, startled out of her concentration.

"Yeah, Gin?" She called back to her best friend and roommate, Ginny Weasley. The ginger-haired girl popped her head into Hermione's room and scrunched her nose.

"Opinion please?" She asked. Hermione gestured from her work desk to her airy, open room.

"Sure," Ginny hesitated a moment, her body hidden behind the door frame. It wasn't like her to look so unsure of herself. Hermione raised her eyebrows, amused at the girl who was one year her junior. All week, the redhead had been modeling different outfit choices for her upcoming trip to America. She and her boyfriend, Theodore Nott, were attending a festival there. They'd be gone a little over two weeks, opting to attend both weekends the festival was being held for if they liked it enough. If not, Ginny very suggestively mentioned they'd find another way to pass the time.

A moment later she stepped into the bright room and stood in the middle. Hermione gasped. Ginny was dressed in what could only be described as underwear. The top was a black, lacy bralette, the bottoms were a pair of high waisted shorts with a chunky bronze belt. She matched a black, wide-brimmed hat and some round shades with it. Her neck adorned with bronze jewelry that had little stars and moons on the chains. The boots she wore looked uncomfortable. They were thigh highs with a heel so tall, it made Hermione feel queasy that the girl would fall. She knew Ginny wouldn't want to hear that, though, so she closed her gaping mouth and swallowed back her opinions.

"Merlin, Gin! You're a babe!" Hermione said excitedly. That Theodore was one lucky guy.

"You really think so? No critiques?" She asked looking down at herself.

"None," Hermione answered. Ginny looked back at her, a stubborn expression in place.

"Hermione Jean Granger... I know you. You have to have one thing, at least, that you'd do differently."

"Nope."

"'Mione... tell me now! I want honesty!"

"You've always told me I dress too prudish for honest opinions about your clothes!" Hermione countered. Ginny put her hands on her hips but relented her pout.

"That's true. But please tell me what you'd do differently and I'll decide if it's too prudish." The witch smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes but let them land on Ginny's boots. She glanced at them a moment before looking back up at Ginny. Ginny's eyes bugged out a bit as she followed Hermione's insinuation.

"The boots, really?"

"They're so tall, Gin."

"Theo is not a short man! I have to give myself an extra boost just to kiss him properly!"

"You're going to be in the desert for Merlin's sake! It's going to be hot, sandy and hard to walk in heels of that... caliber." Hermione made a swatting gesture towards the shoes. Ginny thought a moment before relenting.

"I have a more sensible pair that should match, I suppose." She thought out loud. Hermione turned back to the stack of neat, freshly printed paper that contained her book and started tying a ribbon around it to keep it all together. "And they would go with a few other outfits... less to carry..." Ginny was still musing out loud. Hermione glanced at her and caught her staring at herself in the mirrored closet door. Ginny turned this way and that, checking herself out a bit before nodding, seeming to make a decision. "Yeah... they're too much for a sandy desert, you're right." She muttered before turning her attention back to see Hermione was now placing the stack in a box. "Your book?" She asked, excited.

"Yes." Hermione beamed, putting a lid on the box.

"You're not going to owl that, are you? I'd pity the bird who had to carry that load!"

"Of course not. I'm just getting it ready to take with me to my editor. Hopefully she has no more revisions. I'll hex her to the Hogwarts Astronomy tower and back if she mentions one more tiny comma, period or exclamation mark!" Hermione laughed but felt serious. She'd been doing edits for so long, her eyes hurt from the constant strain of staring at her computer screen.

"Do give Charlotte my best, won't you?" Ginny said sarcastically before exiting Hermione's room to don more outfit options. Ginny hated Charlotte with a passion. The woman was in her late forties, a bitter divorcee and the proud Fiction Editor in Chief at the Olympus Publishing House in London. She drank too much, smoked constantly and loved to drag Hermione out on Friday nights to 'scope out the willing male participants of London.' Hermione took it in stride, usually only having to stay at whatever bar they went to long enough for Charlotte to find her 'willing participant' for the weekend. Once a man showed any interest in the woman who lovingly referred to herself as a 'cougar,' she quickly lost interest in the more youthful witch, thus allowing her to slip out quietly and head home. Sometimes Hermione wouldn't even have enough time to order a drink. Sometimes she'd stay for one too many. Most of the time, she'd have one before a man made his interests known to Charlotte. She'd finish her white wine, pay her tab, and exit quietly. The older woman had game, Hermione had to admit.

Ginny hated how Hermione would willingly give up her valuable time and efforts for someone else to get laid instead of focusing on her own romantic dry spell. She called Charlotte a 'taker' and scolded Hermione for having such a giving nature.

"She's really lonely, Gin." Hermione had said to her one night.

"How could she be lonely when she has you as her lucky 'get laid charm' every weekend?" Hermione had brushed her off.

If it hadn't been for Charlotte Bradford, Hermione wouldn't have even dreamed she could be a real writer. They met, by chance, at the Magicafe between the Ministry of Magic and the Olympus Publishing House. Hermione had taken to having lunch there every day to get a break from the bustle of the Ministry. It was a quiet, cozy place that was just for magical folk. The coffee was sublime and the people were always friendly and inviting. Hermione suspected part of it had to do with everyone in the magical community knowing who she was, at first, but once she got to know all the employees and the owner, people were very genuine.

Charlotte showed up at the Magicafe one day abruptly and weirdly welcoming, like the Knight Bus. She donned a tight black pantsuit with a pink feather coat draped around her shoulders. She held a cigarette holder steadfast in one hand, taking pulls off the never-ending tobacco every few minutes. She set her bag on the counter while she ordered one of the most caffeinated drinks on the menu. Hermione could barely look away from the eccentric witch but thought it'd be rude to stare, so she refocused back on her laptop.

Charlotte had looked around the small space while she waited for her coffee but stopped once her eyes came upon Hermione.

"You're Hermione Granger, are you not?" She asked, smiling and showing off perfect white teeth behind her dark red lips. Hermione looked up at the woman curiously before nodding.

"Yes, Ma'am." She replied.

"Ma'am?! Sweet Circe, I don't look that old, do I?" The fabulous woman asked.

"Not at all, I didn't mean to offend you-"

"Enough, darling, may I sit?"

"Of course!" Hermione squeaked and Charlotte sat beside her, not ruffling one single feather on her jacket.

"They're flamingo feathers, darling," Charlotte said, noticing Hermione's curious stare at the jacket. "I love anything out of the norm. Fur is so 'been there, done that' and not at all in fashion for people or animals, might I add. Birds shed their feathers naturally and don't need to be harmed to obtain them for fashion purposes." She mentioned, shooting her a wink. Hermione liked this woman right away. She obviously knew of Hermione's affiliations with the Care of Magical Creatures Department at the Ministry and cared enough to mention her coat was cruelty-free.

"I'm Charlotte Bradford by the way," She extended her hand. Hermione took it and smiled.

"Pleasure,"

"The pleasure's all mine, I assure you," Charlotte said and then pointed to Hermione's laptop.

"Is this one of those muggle contraptions, then? A top for your lap? I've seen them here and there, of course..."

"Oh, well yes. It's called a laptop."

"And what do you do with it? It's all lit up and I think I see words-" Hermione placed both her hands on the screen to cover it.

"Well, uh... it does many wondrous things but currently I use it for documents." Hermione prattled nervously. She had never shared her stories with anyone. Ever.

"Documents? Like for work and such?" Charlotte asked curiously, tapping the screen with her wand. The laptop suddenly came to life, narrating the story out loud for the whole cafe to hear. Hermione fumbled for her wand and silenced the damn thing as quickly as she could but the damage was done. Everyone cast her scandalous looks. Charlotte smirked and stood, her coffee order being called from the counter. Hermione covered her face, mortified.

The part in her story she had been working on was a love scene. The whole thing wasn't some smutty work but now everyone would think it was.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see Charlotte extending a business card.

"I think you should stop by sometime. That is... if you can get that 'document' out of the toplap..." She said and walked out the door, her heels clicking as she went.

Hermione reminisced on that day a moment, smiling to herself. That had been a little over a year ago. Since then, she and Charlotte had become good friends, working together diligently on Hermione's novel.

She wasn't sure what had caused Charlotte to take a chance on her or why she even rose to the occasion, setting up a meeting the very next week, but there had never been a dull day with the editor, that was for sure. They had been working around Hermione's busy Ministry hours all year, trying to perfect the story she'd created.

No one but Ginny knew she was trying to get published, though. Harry and Ron had poked a bit of fun at her writing on her own all the time in school, thinking she wrote girly poems and the like. They never knew her aspirations went beyond mere musings. They were getting suspicious about all her free time being taken, though.

Before she met Charlotte, her Friday nights had been spent with Harry, Ron, Ron's girlfriend Lavender, Ginny, and Theo, after a time. Sometimes Luna, her husband Rolf and Neville popped by but Luna and Neville were the Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology professors respectively at Hogwarts now, so it was more difficult to score time with them. Rolf was working as a Magizoologist Consultant for the Daily Prophet so Hermione saw him more often but usually only in small encounters and nods of greeting.

She did admit, she missed her friends. She often felt like a little old hermit, despite being just twenty-six, but couldn't help it. The work she was doing was so exciting and time-consuming.

As she was nearly finished, she figured there'd be more time for the little family she had created for herself.

She just hoped they liked her book and could understand why she'd been so secluded in the last year or so.

"When are you supposed to deliver the final product to Ms. Frilly Feathers?" Ginny asked, sipping on some pumpkin wine. She was primping for her date with Theo. The pair had been dating for roughly eighteen months but Ginny still made him crawl and beg for affection. She was far too busy to see him during Quidditch season, so Theo did everything in his power to make up for the time they couldn't see one another. She might make him beg, but he loved to do the begging.

"Tomorrow morning. I'm so nervous, Gin." Hermione wrung her hands in between the ties of the soft throw that was draped over her lap on the couch. Ginny tilted her wine glass back, shooting the rest of the wine before giving Hermione a smile.

"It'll be fine. Great, even." The ginger-haired girl said, fixing her lipstick.

"I've always been good at things I can comprehend; things that are logical. Writing is so subjective. What if the publishers don't like it? What if they say I'm rubbish?" Hermione stood and shook out her hands. Before Ginny could reply, the fireplace burned green and Theodore Nott stepped through the Floo, looking tall, dark and handsome as ever.

"Hullo Hermione." He greeted, giving her a small smile. When he locked eyes on Ginny, though, he appeared momentarily stunned before recovering himself and clearing his throat. "Beautiful Ginevra... you look smashing, my darling." His smile turned megawatt at the little red dress she chose to wear and Ginny's eyes held fire in them.

"I hate it when you call me that." She said, stepping forward.

"Ginevra?"

"No. Darling." She said playfully.

"You ready to go... darling?" He played back.

"Just one sec," She turned to Hermione who was trying to get away from the loving couple. "Hey 'Mione?" Hermione turned before heading up the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"First of all, don't be nervous. You're brilliant."

"How do you know?"

"I may have snuck through your things and read a draft..."

"Ginny!" Hermione stomped.

"Secondly, don't wait up for me tonight!" Ginny beamed before taking Theo's hand and apparating away with a loud crack.

Hermione couldn't sit still. And it was still way too early to sleep. The clock on the mantle chimed seven times as if to drive that logic home and she threw up her hands.

"I'm going out!" She exclaimed to no one in particular. Luckily, her Owl, Winnie, hooted in response from the kitchen's windowsill. It made her feel a little less crazy. She marched upstairs, threw on the first shirt and jeans she could find, paired the look with her sensible flats and headed for the Floo. But she couldn't think of where to go.

It was a Thursday, so no one would be at the regular pub hangout. She couldn't go to Ron's like she might have in the past. They had broken up right after Hermione finished her seventh year at Hogwarts. Ron had opted to work with George in the joke shop, living in the flat above with his dear brother. Soon after, he had bumped into Lavender in Diagon Alley. They rekindled their relationship pretty easily and had been together since. Not before he broke things off with Hermione, though, stating they were just too different and too close of friends to be romantic. Hermione had agreed.

Time apart, after having spent a year on the run in each other's constant company, had really provided perspective for them both. They harbored no ill feelings for one another after the breakup. Lavender didn't necessarily let things go that easily, still shooting Hermione 'back off' glances when they'd all hang out and joke together. But, to her defense, she was really taking the jealousy in stride and learning to let go of her anger. No easy feat considering the girl had been attacked and turned into a werewolf by Fenrir Greyback at the Battle of Hogwarts not even ten years previous. The two girls were very different, but almost becoming friends.

Harry was sometimes around during weeknights unless he had an assignment. Deciding this was her best option, she stepped into the Floo and said clearly, "12 Grimmauld Place!" She felt ill as she spun on the spot before being deposited into Harry's house.

Harry looked up, startled, from where he sat at the kitchen table amongst piles of paperwork. When he saw it was Hermione he smiled.

"That never does look graceful on anyone." He pointed and Hermione looked at herself, covered in soot. She brushed away the loose ash and scourgified the rest of herself with her wand before making her way to the table and sitting next to Harry. The house looked quite different from its' time as headquarters for the Order. It had been updated with newer appliances and redone in fresh paint and furniture. Harry hadn't covered the Black family tree, though, unable to let Sirius go in his heart. The rest of the place looked fit for a whole family, though, which made Hermione all the more sad to be there sometimes.

"Hello, Harry." She said.

"Shall I put on the kettle?" He asked. Hermione thought for a moment.

"Maybe something stronger?" She inquired. Harry raised his brows but didn't protest. He made his way to the refrigerator and opened the cupboard above it. A few different bottles clinked together before he pulled out a half-full bottle of elven plum wine.

"Can't keep the stuff any lower or less hidden. Teddy is getting so curious." Harry mused as he set the wine down on the table and left again for glasses.

"He's what, nine now? Oh, it'll be off to Hogwarts, soon!" Hermione said, feeling reminiscent. Harry chuckled and put a couple glasses down before pouring them each a few fingers.

"I can hardly believe it. That kid keeps me so busy." He said.

"How's Andromeda doing with him?" She asked.

"He spends more and more time here, actually, unless I have to take a mission. He's only with her maybe two days a week now." He said, looking tired. Hermione took a sip of wine and patted his hand.

"She's no spring chicken. And it probably helps him... staying in Lupin's old room." Hermione said softly. Harry nodded and drank his wine, too.

"I miss him." He murmured. "Tonks, too."

"We all do, Harry." They stayed quiet a moment, basking in the melancholia before Harry suddenly looked her way.

"What brings you here tonight, 'Mione? I feel like we haven't seen one another in ages. I can never seem to get away from Auror Headquarters when I'm at the Ministry..." He trailed off, glancing at his paperwork.

"I know, I'm sorry. I've been keeping myself so busy these days." She responded and then took another sip.

"Got a new boyfriend in your life?" He asked slyly.

"Not at all." She said dryly but laughed a little at his eye-roll.

"It's not so far-fetched," He said.

"I haven't dated anyone in a couple years, Harry. On purpose. Relationships are too hard and I'm always so busy."

"Don't work yourself into loneliness, 'Mione. Don't become me." Harry said quietly, placing an arm around her shoulders and taking another long pull of wine. Hermione reciprocated, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"You couldn't have done anything more than what you did. And I'm not lonely. I have all of you guys." She smiled at her dark-haired best friend. He looked older these days, more worldly. Being an Auror was exhausting work that never seemed to end. His hair was still just as dark and messy with a light smattering of facial hair along his chin, upper lip, and cheeks, seeming to grow into the look of an Auror spectacularly. He had exchanged his round, wire frames long ago for a more modern, black frame that enhanced his handsome features and beautiful green eyes. Hermione felt bad for the poor guy, having been rejected by Ginny Weasley only five years previously.

Harry snorted before pouring himself more wine. "I wish I could have done more. But she didn't want me. Still doesn't."

"You know it had nothing to do with that, Harry. She just... wasn't ready to commit. You already had baby Teddy and then wanted to get married and have babies of your own right away. You know how independent she is. And her career with the Harpies had just taken off..." Hermione dwindled off, seeing the pain on Harry's face almost as palpable as it had been the day he told her and Ron about being dumped.

"Yeah. That independence is why I see her in the Prophet parading around with Theodore bloody Nott?" He spat, looking away. Hermione looked to where he had his eyes trained on a small stack of newspapers on a chair in the corner.

"Please tell me those aren't-" Hermione got up and strode over to the stack, picking up several clippings. Some had group pictures of the Harpies after a match, others were tabloids that showed Ginny doing mundane things with Theo like getting coffee or having dinner. One, in particular, showed them holding hands crossing a street, laughing about something. They looked happy. Carefree. Hermione set the clippings down and looked back at her best friend, pity running through her.

"You'll find someone else. Someday. And when you do, they won't want to run away with their independence. They'll want you. You'll see, Harry. It just... takes time." She said, shrugging. She wasn't much of an expert on relationships, only going on a few dates since her and Ron split. But Harry didn't call her on it. He nodded absentmindedly.

"You got work in the morning?" He asked after a beat. Hermione smiled weakly.

"Yes and no," she said. "Not at the Ministry, anyways." Harry looked up at her, cocking his head to the side.

"What're you up to?" He smiled knowingly.

"I haven't told anyone but Ginny," He flinched hearing her name. "But I've been trying to write again."

"Again? I didn't think much of what you did back in school was any sort of serious writing. I thought it was just girly fluff." He shrugged apologetically at her indignant face upon hearing the words, girly fluff.

"Well, that's one reason why I never shared my stuff with you guys!" Hermione said. "I was approached by an editor over at Olympus Publishing, though." She added nervously.

"Wow, really? That's incredible! When?" He looked genuinely surprised but happy none the less.

"About a year ago."

"A year?" His eyes grew round. "Why didn't you say?"

"I wanted to make sure I wasn't rubbish!" She said. "Writing for myself is one thing but when a potential opportunity to get published comes up, it really messes with a person! There's so much pressure! Charlotte says I'm a natural but-"

"Who's Charlotte?"

"Oh. The editor I mentioned." Hermione smiled. "She's the most vapid, eccentric person I've ever met."

"I doubt that-"

"That I actually like." She added. Harry laughed and nodded.

"Sounds about right." He took his now empty wine glass to the sink to wash it the muggle way, preferring it as he was no good at household charms.

"Anyways, I have a meeting with Charlotte and the head publisher for the department tomorrow." Hermione downed the last of her wine and handed her glass to his outstretched hand.

"That would be nerve-wracking. But I know you, Hermione. You'll do great. After working at the Ministry for so long, I'd wager you have enough skills to write an excellent book on international species equality." He said.

"Actually," Hermione bit her lip. "It's not... erm... a textbook." Harry's brow raised again.

"Then what's your book about?" He inquired.

"It's erm... a fiction." She said, feeling embarrassed.

"What's it about?" He leaned against the sink, crossing his arms. Hermione felt her face flush.

"It's a story about a couple who falls in love." She said. Harry balked a bit but tried to hide it. He looked uncomfortable, though. He was always someone who had a hard time expressing how he felt to people. When he did, it usually ended badly. Romance was a foreign subject to him, especially since Ginny left. Hermione hadn't meant to rub his face in his loneliness again.

"I'm sure it'll be rubbish." She added.

"Nonsense. I bet it'll sell." He tried to reassure her.

"I have a feeling that the only reason it'll do well is because of who I am." Hermione sat and put her head in her hands. Her curls falling in a curtain around her face. "What if people only want to publish or buy it because I'm Hermione Granger?"

"Famous war heroine. One third to the golden trio. Whip-smart and fighter for creature equality." He said in an exaggerated tone, making her glare at him. "Yeah, 'Mione, your reputation precedes you but... honestly they won't publish you unless you're a decent writer. Try to have some confidence in yourself, will ya?"

"It's not so simple." She said in a small voice.

"Well try. You'll need to exude that confidence tomorrow at your meeting." He said matter of factly. "You can be headstrong and passionate about so many things but you always fall short for yourself. Go home, soak in your tub, do that girly crap you females are so fond of to prepare yourself, and get a good nights sleep. It'll make you feel ten times more confident tomorrow. Besides, we both know how much you love being over-prepared for everything." He grinned at her. Hermione smiled back and nodded.

"You're an ass. But you're right. Thanks, Harry. I'm glad you were home tonight." She said and walked to the fireplace to collect some Floo powder. When she had a good handful, she kissed him goodbye on the cheek before Flooing home, faintly hearing him say a quick, good luck, before she landed back into her own hearth.