'Humans are cowards in the face of happiness. It takes courage to hold on to happiness.'

Fresh autumn leaves fell on the roof of the black Lincoln Town Car that pulled into the cemetery that late afternoon, the road surrounded by trees of yellow and deep scarlet. They crackled underneath the wheels as they rolled over them, making its way slowly to the destination. The headstones, mausoleums, and burial statues that tribute to those that lay inside or beneath them became more and more extraordinary as the car drove past, signifying the wealth. Soon the plots became more and more spaced out along the winding road as the car began to come to a stop. The area was generally empty, save for one headstone beneath a beautiful, lush, willow tree. The area surrounding it was equally beautiful, untouched by the weather. Everything within ten feet of the stone was full of life, the grass, tree, and a few bulbs that would always remain. It was enchanting, as was the person that now lay in the cold ground, surrounded by the beauty.

A tall, sophisticated looking man exited the driver’s door and came around to the back, opening the door that faced the grave. The door revealed a slightly aged woman, wearing nothing but black, her long curly brown hair hanging down to her shoulders. Her eyes were covered by large black sunglasses, whether to block the nonexistent sun light or perhaps swollen eyes, it was not hard to determine. She was sitting still, straight forward in her seat as if completely unaware of the door being opened for her. The driver paused a short moment before finally saying, "We're here Mrs. Weasley."

"Miss Granger," said the stern voice of Hermione Jane Granger as she turned her head up to look at him. The man looked startled at the coldness, the sternness in the woman's voice, the woman who had once sounded so kind and sweet.

The driver was immediately chastised as she stepped out of the car, one long leg after another until she was standing in her black dress, beautiful as ever. Sure, she had aged to a ripe thirty nine, but she had not lost her wit, or her charm, or the shy beauty that became her. She had retained some new qualities, some that were not becoming at all, like her stiffness and lack of gaiety. "Forgive me, Miss Granger."

She narrowed her eyes at him from behind her shades though it was a cloudy day and said firmly, "Leave my presence now, please, and wait for me at the gates of the cemetery. I shall summons you when I am ready to leave, do I make myself clear, Gyevat?"

He gave a slight bow to the rich and high lady, straightening up as he admonished, "As crystal, Miss Granger." Without another word he closed her door and walked to the other side of the car, opening the driver's side door and climbing inside. The car barely made a noise as the engine came to life once more and the car drove away and back towards whence it had came.

Once the car was entirely out of sight did Hermione remove the glasses from her face, revealing a sight not as lovely as usually placed upon her features. Her beautiful, honey brown eyes were surrounded by a sea or redness, as if tears had just been there to turn them such a color. Her skin paled slightly as she looked towards her final destination for this journey, thinking of who now laid in that grave, the man who should be with her now. She watched as the branches of the willow tree swayed in almost a mournful rhythm as she slowly approached the grave of the man she loved. Her body trembled slightly, as if strained by such a walk, or perhaps to overcome with emotion to keep the charade of happiness and indifference up now that she was alone.

Before she realized it, she stood before the headstone, the wind whistling to fill the silence that seemed to almost echo around her. She now felt small, insignificant in this vast world that she had been left all alone in, without her love or a real friend to depend upon. Sure, she had her riches, a vast amount of them that she herself had earned and some that had been given to her upon a death she would never get over. She would have given every galleon; every prized possession to have him back, to be held once more in his strong arms and feel appreciated and cared for. But what she truly wished for would never be, they had been ripped apart by the harsh truths that this society and the people that inhabited it provided. It was all rather simple really. He was gone.

She inhaled deeply, as if trying to swallow and put away all the emotions that wanted to simply spill over and pour out from her soul. She could hear his voice sweetly whispering in her head, from the one day he had caught her in the park, crying for her misdeeds, though he knew not why she was really crying. "Everyone's got a problem, there's always a pain," he had whispered so soothingly to her as he came over and put his arms around her, caressing her skin. "It's alright to cry.... but people, especially women, can't do it in public, or in front of people, otherwise, everyone who sees will break down. So cry alone, it makes you stronger, which is what I have always grown up knowing and practicing."

She exhaled slowly now feeling the warmth of fresh, salty, tears stream down her cheeks and her face distort in anguish. She knew exactly what he would say if he were here right now, as if he was even standing beside her, his voice sounded so close and real in her head.

"Hermione, you shouldn't cry in public."

"But no one is here...."

That truth made her senses overwhelm with the grief, the cruelty, of losing him, of him slipping away so easily between her fingers. One after another, un-beautified, loud, painful sobs emitted from her lips, coming from low in her throat and projecting her agony across the area. She stumbled blindly, as if in a drunken stupor, towards the grave, falling down before it and grazing her hands as they caught on the grave stone, clinging to it. She scooted herself closer to it, wrapping her arms around it and holding the cold, icy, cement to her chest, as if her heat would make the body beneath her warm and be well once more.

She had never lost so much in her life as she had done in the last year, losing her dignity, her husband, her love, her happiness, her friends, the support of her family. All had slipped away, everything had gone so wrong, and because of her own actions, which she could have prevented if she had only been brave. She had been a Gryffindor in school, but as cowardly as a Slytherin in affairs of the heart. She thought upon the night that had changed her life forever, the night she knew she would never again be the happily married woman she so naively thought she was. The night that she had finally recognized what lay beneath the surface of exterior and into his soul. The night that Hermione Granger, a world recognized author, acquired the plot for what would be one of the bestselling books of the times.

Humans are cowards in the face of happiness. It takes courage to hold on to happiness.

Sometimes, life leads you to paths you would never think to travel, take you to places you can never return or the adventure to them a permanent scar in your mind. Life is unpredictable every chance it gets, that is the only thing anyone should depend upon in this world, things are always bound to change. Though this was one of the very few and reliable truths the world offers, it still will catch you by surprise no matter what. Today, Hermione thought it would be another normal day with the kids and her husband. Just another night filled with a grand event for work that would advance her in the world of writing.

How wrong she was.

“Mummy, Hugo broke my broom!” Rose her eleven year old daughter screamed as she ran to her mother, reaching her arms up to her, tears streaking her little rosy cheeks. Hermione, dressed in a smart navy skirt suit bent over and picked up her daughter and began to comfort her. Rose began to slowly calm down as Hermione bounced the growing girl slowly until the girls cries went from shrieks to whimpers, from whimpers to silence.

“Mummy will go buy you a new one, I promise,” she cooed to her beautiful little girl whom she adored and spoiled, she also made a mental note to speak with her nine year old son later. “Everything will be alright; I will get you one tomorrow.”

She pouted out her little lip, her eyes narrowing slightly, a look inherited from Hermione alone. “Can I get a new one today? I wanted to fly with Albus today!” she said stubbornly, getting that trait from her mother and father.

“I will ask Daddy later today if he will go get you one, but I can’t promise you we can get a new one today. Mummy has a very big event to go to tonight, it’s very important for Mummy’s work.” Hermione smiled at her daughter, though young, could negotiate and be easily pacified.

“Alright,” she said as Hermione set Rose down to run off and play as she felt arms wrap tightly around her waist and a kiss placed underneath the hallow of her ear. She smiled softly and reached her hand up to cup the face of the man that held her, her loving husband.

“Good morning,” she said softly, closing her eyes and feeling immediately calmer about all that she must do today, he was like a soothing potion or perhaps a calming draught.

“Yes, I just got an owl about a breakthrough in the Holmquist case and it seems we might have a clue who the werewolf was that bit her,” he said triumphantly as he slowly untangled himself from his wife’s embrace and went over to the counter. He waved his wand at the coffee pot to get things going, the beans grinding themselves and putting themselves inside and shutting. He grabbed the paper from the table as Hermione slowly sat down and took a long drink of her tea, enjoying the warmth and taste. She always drank Earl Grey before a day of work; she never quite understood why people, including her husband, could stand coffee.

“That’s wonderful, Ron, I’ll be happy to see that the new Wolf bane potion put to use, though I hope the attack wasn’t purposefully done,” she said thoughtfully, seeing a sudden image of Fenir Greyback flash through her mind, his teeth snarling. She shuddering at the thought, remembering that night he had caught Ron, Harry, and herself, threatening to eat Hermione most of the night. She shook her head slightly to rid herself of such horrible thoughts. “Remember, when you come home for your break you need to take the kids to Harry and Ginny’s. They agreed to watch them since we both have to work late tonight.”

“I sit in an office for hours poring over paperwork while you get to dance and talk with rich wankers at that stupid party, or ball thing. I hardly call that work,” he said jealously, still the same old Ron; some things would never ever change. As much as she loved Ron, part of her, a larger part than she cared to admit, was highly irritated by how he acted sometimes, especially considering her work. Of course, she never said anything to him, not even to Ginny because, after all, marriage wasn’t always pleasant, right?

“Oh, hush you,” she said affectionately, chuckling lightly into her tea. “It is work as a matter of fact, I have to make sure I talk to all the important publishers tonight and see if I can get one of them to review and possibly publish my new book.”

“Why can’t you just go through the same publisher as last time?” he asked, referring to the book she had written on Defense Against The Dark Arts which was currently being taught to fifth years at Hogwarts. All her Dumbledore’s Army training had come in handy, and all her notes she had jotted down in school were very helpful as well.

“How many times must I tell you this, this book isn’t educational, and it’s a normal novel for everyone to read. It takes a different kind of publisher to put out a romance novel than a text book.” She remained scowling slightly at him over her tea; it seemed sometimes he never listened to her. She had told him this very thing at least two times previously, it was becoming ridiculous. She wished sometimes he would be more attentive, like he had been when they had first been engaged and then married. Things had been so perfect then, not it seemed like the barely communicated in the same language.

“Wait, so you are writing something that isn’t boring?” he asked with a small laugh, pouring himself a cup of his coffee and then biting into a piece of buttered toast.

“No, Ron, I did not write something boring again, thank you,” she said sharply, rolling her eyes and trying to stifle the urge to yell at him. Lately, though most of their conversations started sweet and kind, they seemed to end with bitterness or harsh words. “This time I am trying something new, which I hope you have no issue with since it seems I could make a lot of galleons off of this book than the last. I talked about this with you last week, but apparently you don’t listen to me. You promised to me you would make sure the kids would get to your sister’s house so I would have time to get the house work done and to get ready.”

“Right, right. I remember now, I guess,” he said with a sigh, throwing the paper back down on the table and drinking deeply from his coffee mug. He set it down on the counter, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and informing, “I will make sure the kids get to Harry’s today and you go and enjoy your work.” He walked away from her and yelled up the stairs, “Hugo! Rose! We’re going to Uncle Harry’s and Aunt Ginny’s!”

Hugo and Rose came running down the stairs, their backpacks slung over their shoulders and jumping up and down. Hermione smiled at both her children and bent down, kissing them both and giving them each a big hug. “You two behave for Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry tonight, promise?”

“Yes, Mummy,” they said in unison, grinning at her, though mischief glistened in their pretty little eyes.

“I love you, be good,” she said with one last kiss for each of them as they squirmed away and giggled.

She put her cup down and tossed her head slightly remembering as Ron regarded her important night as just a silly event in which to entertain her. She sighed, shaking her head slightly as she countered, “I’ll see you when I get home, Ronald. You have fun with your doughnut eating and stupid paperwork, won’t you? Too bad there isn’t enough field work for you to do, it must be so hard sitting behind your desk all day and doodling Chudley Cannons everywhere.”

He scowled deeply at that comment, his eyebrows furrowing together and his face turning a light shade of pink. “Yes, while you enjoy writing things that people will never learn in school or gushy romances that make no difference in the world. I’ll see you when you get home.” Leaving an angry Hermione in his wake Ron held on to his two children and apparated on the spot and the loud ‘CRACK’ rang in the deafening silence he left behind.

She huffed silently, trying not to be bothered by his parting words, regardless of how rude they had been. She would not let a stupid discussion, argument really; ruin a day that was so important, a day that the success of her latest book depended upon. Before she left the house she ran upstairs, grabbing the synopsis that she had typed up, as well as the manuscript for her book, shrinking it into her purse. Tonight she would be completely prepared for whatever was to happen, whatever was to be thrown at her she would overcome.

Ha. Yeah right.