Learning To Fail

Hermione Potter, nee Granger, was accustomed to succeeding in whatever task she put her mind to. This had been her experience in life since she was a small child. Despite being a Muggle-born, she had managed to become the smartest student in her year, and had completed her career at Hogwarts as Head Girl. After assisting her now-husband in defeating Lord Voldemort, she had gone on to have a thriving career as an Auror before retiring to do research and raise her children.

This was key. It should have been easy. Nine months of keeping her feet up while she began her research into defensive charms, then two years of working in between her duties as a mother and wife. Hermione had planned it all out before she ever became pregnant, and had presented her findings to Harry with an air of victory. Out of all the women in the world, Hermione Granger would have no problem balancing her work and her home life.

That was, until she actually had the baby. Pregnancy wasn't too bad, though the morning sickness tended to dampen her enthusiasm for research after breakfast. It could still be regulated, and Hermione took advantage of the best medical advice in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. She exercised, ate healthily and took all her vitamins, and still managed to get several dozen pages of research notes accomplished.

After eleven hours of intense labor, assisted by a midwife, Eleanor Potter was born. And from that moment on, Hermione's life had been a mixture of intense love and frightening chaos. She supposed it couldn't have been avoided. Even with their close relationship to the enormous Weasley family, both she and Harry were only children with no close relatives. She hadn't realized the enormity of the task of child rearing.

With Eleanor almost six months old, Hermione had done no research, leaving her books and notes to gather dust. She also hadn't washed her hair in five days, eaten anything healthy in a week and done any laundry in two. If it weren't for the book of household charms Molly had pressed on her at the baby shower, she would be living in squalor. Harry was absolutely no help. Certainly he was wonderful with Eleanor, but his work as an Auror kept him busy - so busy he didn't notice what a mess Hermione's life was turning into.

And Hermione hated messes.

So, when Harry returned home at eight that evening, she forbore to mention her problems. In fact, she waited until the next morning, when he woke up, looking clean and refreshed despite having risen to care for Eleanor twice. As Harry drank his coffee and read over the Daily Prophet, Hermione plotted her revenge.

"I'm going to head into work, Hermione," Harry said, planting a kiss on her head as she fed Eleanor mashed peas. "I'll try to be home earlier so I can help take care of this one." He chucked Eleanor under the chin, causing her to spit up and giggle.

"Actually, Harry, you'll be doing no such thing." Hermione stood up, setting down the sticky bowl of peas. "I've already talked to your supervisor, and he knows you'll be missing work today. You see, I'm going on strike."

"On strike?" Harry asked, incredulous. "What's the matter, Hermione? If you have a problem, you know you can talk to me about it."

Hermione shook her head. "Talking won't convey the complete impact of what you need to learn. I am going to take a shower, and then I am taking my research notes and working over at my mother's. You'll need to feed Eleanor, and then give her a bath. There's two days worth of dishes in the sink, and the laundry is in the basket at the top of the stairs. Enjoy."

Hermione went upstairs to shower, attempting to ignore her feelings of guilt. She didn't worry about Harry - if he could cope with homicidal maniacs, he could cope with the baby and the housework for a single day - but she felt bad for failing to live up to her goals. In a perfect world, Eleanor wouldn't refuse to go down for a nap, or insist on being entertained for hours on end. In a perfect world, Hermione could do it all and make it look easy.

In the real world, however, Hermione had failed. Today was merely a day to steel herself for a rather shocking revelation: she couldn't do it all. Not without help. So, she would go over to her mother's and work until she felt up to the challenge of admitting her failure to Harry.

**

Eight hours later, Hermione returned to the house to find a fair amount of mess. The dishes had been done, but a good scourgify would solve that problem. It seemed like someone had cleaned up the kitchen and living room, though the laundry remained untouched. Upstairs in the nursery, she found Harry lying on the floor with a sleeping Eleanor on his chest.

"I take it she's finally out?" She asked her husband, arching an eyebrow when he looked over at her. He looked quite exhausted, even more than after a bad day at work.

"She wouldn't go down for her nap, and then she started fussing when I tried to clean up. She cried until I played finger puppets with her. That lasted for two hours, followed by making cow noises and making stuffed animals dance." He looked up, trying not to disturb Eleanor. "How do you do it?"

Hermione smiled when he said this. She carefully sat on the floor beside him before answering. "That's what I want to talk to you about. I haven't been able to do it. Today is the first day since Eleanor was born that I've been able to get any work done on my research."

"I didn't realize..."

"And I didn't want you to realize," she replied ruefully. "I made such a huge deal about being able to juggle everything, and I haven't been able to. I finally realized that I had to admit it to you before I could get anything done. And you know how much I hate admitting I'm wrong."

Harry laced his fingers with hers, keeping his eyes focused on her. "Believe me, I know that. I've known that for, oh, seventeen years, wouldn't you say? I don't know why you felt like you couldn't mention it sooner. There's plenty we can do - get a nanny or a maid." He chuckled when she started. "No, no house elves, I know that already. Maybe I can be your maid. I've always thought I looked nice in an apron."

Hermione had to laugh at that mental image. "I'm sure you do. I just didn't want you to feel like you had to change because of this - I don't want you to quit your job or anything. I wanted you to know that all my planning didn't work out, and that I'm going to have to start over from scratch." She brushed a hand over her daughter's head. "I have a new theory that children are the root of chaos in the universe. I'm sure I can prove in a few years."

Harry looked at her, his green eyes serious. "I love you, Hermione. And I love Eleanor, too. You two are the most important things to me in the world, and I want you both to be happy. And if that means cutting back at work, or quitting all together, or hiring someone to help you, then we'll do that." He laughed, his eyes lightening. "I still have the Potter and Black fortunes to run through. I'd think staying home with my wife and daughter is worth it."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione replied, touched. "You are so ridiculously thoughtful, and entirely too reckless. Running through your money to stay at home and be a lazy slug like the rest of us? What would your parents think?"

"I'm sure they'd approve." Harry reached out and drew her to him, holding her by his side. "After all, family is the most important thing, right?"

Eleanor chose that moment to start calling for her parents, and they cradled her between them, a perfect family portrait.