When History Can't Repeat Itself

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When History Can't Repeat Itself

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Hermione Granger frowned as she looked into Molly Weasley's greenish-blue eyes. Any other mother would be bursting at the seams with happiness...

This was the singular thought that crossed Hermione's mind as she and Ron stood before the whole of the Weasley family, holding hands and finally divulging the news that, late last night, after ten years of sometimes painfully awkward courtship, Ron Weasley had finally gotten the nerve to ask Hermione Granger to be his wife.

"That's marvelous!" Arthur had cried out, jumping up from his place on the futon. "I wondered when you were finally going to pop the question, son!"

Ron had blushed several shades of crimson. "Yeah, well," Ron stuttered. "I couldn't very well let her slip out of my fingers, could I?"

Hermione had clutched at his hand, and kissed his lips sweetly. "No, you very well couldn't."

"Enough with the public display of affection already!" Fred called from across the room, folding his freckled arms across his chest. "Some of us have better things to do than watch my little brother snog his fiancée in the living room."

"Someone's still a little bitter about being a singleton!" George teased, ruffling his twin brother's hair, and smiling. "Don't spoil the mood just because Angelina dumped you for the umpteenth time this year."

"That girl is a bloody menace," Fred spat back angrily. "Totally and completely mental..."

"Guys, guys! Couldn't you two just stop for a minute and try to be happy for me?" Ron whined as Hermione stroked his back. "After all, I'm only going to be engaged once."

Hermione had grinned, and kissed him again. "We'll see about that, Ronald Weasley. If your habit of not doing the dishes continues to persist, you might very well be looking for a new wife someday!"

Bill chuckled from across the room, and helped himself to some more pumpkin juice. "Have you two talked about a date or anything yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not really. I've always wanted a wedding during the springtime. Something small and intimate. Nothing too fancy."

"Small weddings are spectacular!" Ginny burst in, grasping her husband's hand tightly. Harry grimaced slightly. Ginny was always much stronger than she understood, and, unfortunately, Harry took the brunt of that misunderstanding.

Harry interjected, slightly annoyed. "How would you know? We invited five hundred ruddy people to ours!"

"When will you stop complaining about that, Harry? It's been over a year!"

"When will you finally admit that it was too many people? We didn't know the half of them! And where do you get off being so high and mighty about this? If it wasn't for you..."

Hermione sighed heavily, and pressed her forehead into Ron's shoulder. Merlin knew there was trouble in the Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter paradise. She had always known that it was never a match made in heaven, and, hopefully, Ginny and Harry would see that someday terribly soon.

"Mum?" Ron's voice spoke cautiously, breaking Hermione out of her interest with Ginny and Harry. Ron peered into Molly's deep amber eyes, looking slightly concerned. "Don't you have anything to say?"

Molly laughed, and pushed her rocking chair back and forth. "Of course. Congratulations. I'm so happy for you both, Ron and Hermione."

"Oh course she's happy," Ginny continued excitedly, ignoring her husband's agitated expression. "We'll finally have the family we always wanted! Harry and Hermione are finally Weasleys as they should be!"

"It's absolutely perfect," Charlie Weasley put in.

"Perfect," everyone agreed, raising their glasses to the young couple.

"Perfect..." Molly whispered, looking away.

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It was well past three in the morning when Molly tapped her feet down the stairs, her terrycloth bathrobe dragging on the floor. Her slippers swished against the Burrow's beaten wood floors, and she said a silent thank you for the invention of headache-killing charms.

"Hello?" the weathered woman whispered into the shadowy living room, glancing at the slender figure of a young woman silhouetted in the moon. "Is that you, Hermione?"

At once a light flicked on and Hermione's face appeared as if out of nowhere. "Oh! Hello Molly," Hermione called, stirring her coffee with a cinnamon stick and taking a long sip. She looked at her watch and shook her head until her brown curls flickered back and forth. "What's keeping you up so late?"

Molly shrugged stiffly, and took a seat next to Hermione on the worn sofa. "I just thought that you might be up, and I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

"Well, no time like the present," Hermione said, sipping again.

"I'm not quite sure you'll want to hear what I have to say," Molly began, scratching at her temple.

"It can't be that bad."

"You'd be frightfully surprised."

Hermione shook her head and laughed. "I just got engaged, Molly. There are very few things that could put a damper on my mood right now."

Molly sighed. "Even if what I said was that you should break off the engagement to my son?"

Hermione stopped stirring her coffee, and looked straight into Molly's eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Hermione, I refuse to let you make the same mistake I made so many years ago," Molly continued softly, pulling out a tattered scrapbook from under the couch. Hermione was surprised to see a non-magical photo staring back at her, a snapshot of Molly and Arthur many years ago. In her hand, Molly carried a Prefect's badge and a medal that honored her academic achievements. Arthur carried this hat and a pair of spectacles.

"Hermione, did you know that I got ten O.W.L.S. during my years at Hogwarts? Eight "O's" and two "E's". It still remains as the second highest score in Hogwarts history. In fact, you're the only person to beat my score," Molly said, laughing as Hermione blushed. "I had aspirations of being an Auror or working in St. Mungo's as a Healer..."

"As do I," Hermione replied, taking another sip of her coffee.

"I know dear. And that's what I've been meaning to speak with you about. Hermione, if you marry Ron...I honestly can't say there's something I'd like more. I already love you like my daughter. I've considered you part of the family since you were only fourteen. You are Ginny's best friend and the woman Ron loves. It makes sense that you should marry him. It makes sense that you should become part of this family because, truthfully, you already are."

"I don't see where you're going with this, Molly."

The older woman took Hermione's hands in between her own. "Hermione, you and I...we were the same. We both wanted to make a difference in the world. We were both extraordinarily talented and had the chance to be some of the most influential people in the world."

Molly stopped, choking back tears. "Hermione, my chance at that life was gone the moment I chose to marry Arthur. I didn't know what I was getting into. I love Arthur, make no mistake about that. But I made the terrible mistake of thinking that I could balance who Arthur wanted me to be and who I wanted me to be."

"And what, exactly, did Arthur want you to be?"

"A housewife," Molly answered simply. "This is a fine occupation, Hermione. I daresay it takes more energy than that of an Auror or a Healer. But," she looked around as if she feared someone else was in the room. "It's not what I wanted to be."

Hermione stood up indignantly. "No offense, Molly, but Ron and Arthur are two very different people. I'm actually quite shocked that you would think so lowly of your son. Sure, he maybe a big pig-headed and chauvinistic at times, but he understands that I'm not going to be his little housewife. He wouldn't still be here with me after all these years if he did!"

"Don't you think I said those exact same words to myself many years ago?" Molly cried, no longer holding the tears back. "Don't you think that was my mantra when he asked me to marry him? Because it was, Hermione, it was!

"I've had quite enough of this!" Hermione whispered fiercely, picking up her drink from the counter. "I don't know why on earth you're trying to break up a perfectly good relationship that I thought you supported fully." She turned stubbornly on her heels. "I suppose I was wrong."

Molly grabbed Hermione's arm, digging her nails into the porcelain flesh. "Hermione, you must try to understand. I love you, dear. You're already one of my own daughters as far as I'm concerned. And I wouldn't tell you this if I didn't love you like my daughter. You deserve better, Hermione."

"I love Ron, Molly. Isn't that enough?"

Molly shook her head. "Hermione, when you truly love someone, you want to do everything for them. You want to make sure that their every need is taken care of, and you spend countless hours of your life trying to make yourself everything you think they want. You don't even do it consciously. You do it subconsciously. You change the way you dress, the way you speak..." Molly's voice trailed off. "The things you once loved become less to you because that person who you love takes up all that space in your life."

"Not all marriages and loves are like that Molly," Hermione spoke, her voice unsteady as she guided herself back into her chair.

"Not all marriages are, Hermione. But love is. And for some couples, it works. But it can't work when somebody already has something else that they love and need. I should know. I'm living proof."

And in that moment, Hermione Granger knew that Molly Weasley was not playing around.

Hermione's heart raced as she considered the options before her. "Molly...what you're asking...what you're asking for is impossible. I could never just leave him. Like I said, I love him. I don't want to leave him because we love one another very much."

Molly put her hand on Hermione's back. "If he really, really loves you, then he'll realize how much your life meant to you. He'll grow to understand and respect why you left him. He will love again, Hermione."

The words stung as they sank into Hermione's skin. She found her eyes pricking with bright blue tears, and she buried her head in Molly's shoulder.

"I can't do it," she whispered hoarsely. "I love him too much, Molly. I want to be with him too much."

Molly sighed as Hermione's tears gnawed through her nightgown. "Then you are condemning yourself to a future of regret. You understand that, don't you?"

Hermione nodded. "I'd rather regret something I didn't do that something I did do, Molly. If I leave him now...well, I'll always wonder if he really would have made me into a housewife. I'll wonder if he really did only want me to be second in charge under him. I can't spend a lifetime wondering."

With that, Hermione completely broke down, crying freely into Molly's body. And, as she stroked Hermione's hair and kissed her forehead, Molly knew that wondering was exactly what Hermione Granger was doomed to do the rest of her life.

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