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HP after Hogwarts >> Last Chance Blown by Janner

Simple Text - To view MORE chapters use the chapter jump box to the right.
Hermione Weasley let herself into the apartment. Her three-day business trip had turned into a wasted two-day trip. She had lost the bloody contract. Her boss would skin her alive, therefore she was not a happy bunny. No bonus this year, she thought miserably. Needing to freshen up she went to the bedroom. The door made no noise when she opened it. She stood stunned, looking at Ron’s head on his pillow. He lay on his side staring straight ahead, and groaning. He had not noticed his wife who was about to ask if he was ill, when halfway down the bed something moved. He groaned again,

“Oh yeah, that feels so good. Oh yeah.” A giggling sound came from under the duvet. Hermione’s brain processed what she was seeing. She screamed,

“RON! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? NOT AGAIN YOU BASTARD. I’M OUT OF HERE FOR GOOD THIS TIME!” I’ll be back for my things, make bloody sure you’re not here when I do!” As she turned to go a girl’s voice said,

“Jeez Ron, who is she? She’s very touchy, ain’t she?” I’ll touch you in a minute, Hermione thought as she apparated away.


She landed, sobbing bitterly, in the living room of another apartment. Harry and Ginny lived here. In a years time they would become Mr & Mrs Potter. The room was deserted. “Harry, Ginny, are you here” she called out. The bedroom door opened and a dishevelled Harry came out, through the open door Hermione could see Ginny sitting up in bed. “Oh I’m sorry, Harry, I’ve come at a bad time.”

“No Hermione, it’s fine, really. Five minutes earlier and… well…” Ginny joined them,

“You’re crying ‘Ne, what’s up.” Through her sobs she told them.

“I got home early and Ron’s at it again. He was in bed with a girl, AGAIN! I am so bloody stupid, this is the third time. IT’S ALSO THE BLOODY LAST TIME! I’ve had it with him. He’s history!” Ginny headed back to the bedroom,

“I’m just going to throw some clothes on, back in a minute.” Harry hugged Hermione.

“I’m so sorry, ‘Ne, he doesn’t deserve you. If you decide that this is it, then we’re behind you, one hundred per cent. You can stay here tonight; you can stay as long as you want. At least until I get fed up with living with two women. A double dose of PMT every month… Yuk!” Hermione smiled in spite of herself. Ginny returned in jeans and a bright red blouse. She went to her handbag and got her wand and her Muggle purse. With her wand she cleaned up Hermione’s face.

“Harry, Me and Hermione are going to the pub. We’re going to have a girl talk. Feed yourself, I’ll fix us something when we get back.” She kissed her future husband. “See ya later, love ya.”


The two girls had been in the pub for half-an-hour and they were on their third round of drinks. Hermione had been quietly railing against her husband. Ginny had not realised that men could be described in so few words… mainly for various parts of the female anatomy and a couple of adjectives. They did not immediately see the man that approached them.

“Hello, Weaslette, I thought it was you, how are you? Mrs Weasley too. Girls night out is it?”

“Oh hi, Draco, long time, no see. Well… it’s not so much a girls night out as a ‘let’s kick the verbal shit out of the species known as men’ night.” Hermione looked up through eyes that were already slightly unfocussed.

“In particular, that crappy example that I married.” She said.

“A K A, my brother.” Ginny supplied. Draco stopped grinning, realising that the girls were serious.

“What has he done? From the sounds of it, it involves a third party. Am I right?”

“Spot on,” said Hermione, “I get home from work early and find him up to his nuts in some bimbo or other. Third time! Can you believe it, third time! What sort of idiot does that make me, do you think?”

“He’s the idiot.” Hermione looked up into a pair of grey eyes looking gently into hers. “Tell me,” Draco continued, “is he… circumcised?”

“What?” asked Hermione. Ginny stuck her fingers in her ears,

“I do not want to hear this.”

“You know what I mean, Hermione. Is he circumcised? Has he had..?”

“I know what circumcised means, Draco. No, he’s not. Now why would you want to know that?” she reached out and pulled one of Ginny’s hands from her head.

“I was just wondering how much of an idiot he was. Seems like he’s a complete prick then.” The girls laughed.


Harry was in the kitchen when Ron apparated into the living room. He looked at the person that had once been his best friend, his anger barely disguised.

“Harry, listen, if Hermione comes here, tell her…”

“Too late, Ron she’s been here already. What’s the matter with you Ron? Why can’t you keep it in your pants? Don’t bother answering, just get out of here and don’t come back. You’ve hurt Hermione for the last time. You stay away from her and leave her alone. If I hear that you are bothering her, I’ll come looking for you, and it won’t be to shake your hand. Stay away from me and Ginny too. Go on, piss off. You make me sick.” Ron actually smiled. Hey, he thought, come on, they were both guys, weren’t they? He was only doing what guys do, right?

Wrong! Oh so wrong.

“Harry, I…”

“You’ve got about ten seconds before I come over there and wipe that stupid smirk off your face. I won’t tell you again. Get the hell out!”


It was a throbbing pain behind her eyes that woke Ginny Weasley the next morning. Harry was already up getting ready for work. She pulled on a robe and walked out of the bedroom. Her man was sitting in the kitchen munching on a piece of toast. “Morning Harry.”

“Yes it is, but not for much longer. What time did you get in? And thank you for getting into bed without disturbing me.” Going to the steaming pot of coffee she poured herself a large cup.

“You’re welcome and I have no idea what time I got in. We…” she stopped when an awful realisation hit her. “Oh my God… Hermione!” walking quickly to the spare bedroom she confirmed her worst fear, Hermione was not there. Harry was not best pleased,

“Where is she, Ginny, why did you not stay together? You were supposed to be looking after her.”

“I was Harry, but…” she tried to remember the precise sequence of events. “But we met somebody. They were getting on fine so I gave her my spare key. She was supposed to come here when she was ready.”

“Who Ginny, who did you meet?” Just then the doorbell rang. Harry opened it and came face-to-face with Draco Malfoy and a sheepish looking Hermione Weasley.

“Hermione, where have you been? We were worried about you.”

“I stayed at Draco’s apartment, Harry. I’m afraid I was too pissed to apparate. We had to get a taxi, and I couldn’t tell him how to get here.” Harry turned on Malfoy.

“Typical bloody Slytherin, taking advantage of a vulnerable woman.” He was surprised when Hermione turned on him.

“You should apologise for that remark, Harry. Draco has been the perfect gentleman. I slept in his spare room… alone. He has not said or done anything improper. All he did was endure my drunken ramblings, all of which, I’m sure, were pretty incoherent.

“Not all,” grinned Draco, “just ninety-five per cent. I am a lawyer, Potter, and the code of ethics frowns on lawyer/client relationships. I’m doing this one by the book.”

“Client?” asked Ginny.

“Yes Ginny, Draco is going to handle my divorce from Ron. As far as I’m concerned the sooner the better.”

“It should be fairly straightforward, I’ll file the papers today, so I would guess six to eight weeks.” He looked at Hermione. Ginny looked at him looking at Hermione. He had an expression on his face that gave him away. Oh, oh she thought, what’s going on here. “After that, all bets are off.” He finished what he was saying.

Hermione went through a torrid time at the divorce hearing. She had been asked by Ron’s lawyer to tell of the time she and Harry had spent alone in the tent during the Horcrux hunt. His lawyer had inferred that they had been, to use Ron’s description, ‘banging like a bass drum in a parade’, and therefore Hermione had her own history of infidelity. Hermione had, of course, vigorously denied the allegations. Only she and Harry knew that she was not telling the truth, and that’s the way it would stay. Draco had ripped Ron to pieces during his turn at giving evidence. He downplayed his victory saying that a first-year law student could have done the same.

Just under two years later, in the sunlit beer garden of a muggle pub, Harry picked his six-month-old goddaughter, Harriet Jean Malfoy, out of her stroller. “Hi there, Brat.” He grinned proudly at the child. Ginny picked up Harriet’s twin brother, Frank Malfoy, her godson. He was named after his maternal grandfather.

“Hey gorgeous, did you hear what nasty Uncle Harry called your sister? Anytime you want to hex him, you go right ahead, don’t mind me.” She planted a smacker of a kiss on his chubby cheek.

The Potters had married two months after the Malfoys, at which time Hermione was already three months pregnant. Ginny had assumed that, being a Weasley, falling pregnant would be easy. But nothing had happened yet. It wasn’t for a lack of effort that was certain. Hermione Malfoy frowned at Harry.

“If you call my daughter ‘Brat’ one more time Mr Potter, I will see you in court. I know a lawyer, and he’s very, very good… and not too expensive.”

“Another easy win.” Said a smiling Draco. “Pro Bono, of course.”

Hermione smiled too, she had won more than a divorce. She was so happy that Ron had blown his last chance.

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