Freedom

A/N: Okay, just a quick note. This is the sequel to my story "Overdose," which you don't have to read, but it'll make more sense if you do. This will also be multi-chaptered, so this is not the end.

Freedom

"Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you." ~Jean-Paul Sartre

"Freedom is not something that anybody can be given. Freedom is something people take, and people are as free as they want to be." ~James Baldwin


Hermione walked into her house and stretched her neck. It had been a long day—a long, thoroughly exhausting day. She wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, preferably cuddled up with her two incredibly handsome lovers, but unfortunately her son needed to be fed and put to bed.

“Jamie, honey, where are you?” she called. She toed off her shoes and put her bag down on the table by the front door. She heard little footsteps running in her direction, and suddenly a three-year-old redhead turned the corner and ran into her arms. “Mummy!”

She kissed his forehead and he smiled up at her with his big brown eyes. “Did you have fun with Kelly today?” she asked.

He was nodding before she finished. “Umhum! We made potions today.” Kelly, the babysitter, now walked up to them and began putting on her shoes. “Dint we, Kelly?”

“Yup,” Kelly said with a smile. “He wanted to make an extra special one for you, Mrs Weasley. I’m sure he’ll tell you what it does.”

“Thank you, Kelly. I’m taking tomorrow off work to take him to his uncles’ house, so you can have the day off.”

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley,” she said and left the house.

“So what’s this potion do?” Hermione asked her son, putting him back on his feet and walking to the kitchen to start dinner.

“Isa disappearing potion,” he said with a big smile. “Ill make Won disappear so you and me can live with Uncle Dwaco and Daddy!”

Hermione had to stop herself from laughing. Her son was much too smart for his own good. “Jamie, I’ve told you a thousand times to call Ron daddy.”

“But he’s no—”

“I know, honey, but please do it, for mummy?”

He looked down. “Okay,” he said in a huff. “Dinner?”

Hermione smiled. “I was thinking ravioli and chocolate milk.”

“Mmm!” Jamie smiled.

The front door opened then and she heard her husband rummaging around by the front door. “Hermione!” he called.

“I’m in the kitchen,” she said, getting a pan out to boil the ravioli.

“Well, get over here!”

Hermione sighed again, kissed her son on the head and told him to stay put and walked into the foyer where Ron was currently divesting himself of his shoes and rain jacket. “What do you need? I’m trying to make dinner.”

“I’m gone for two months and the first thing you ask me is ‘what do you need?’ What do you think I need, Hermione?” he asked. He grabbed her hair and pulled her close to himself, kissing her roughly. She had found, about two hours after their wedding, that she hated the way he kissed her.

She pulled away and he looked angry that she would. “I’m cooking dinner and then I need to put Jamie to bed. After that we can take care of you.”

His blue eyes clouded over in rage and she knew she crossed the line, but he looked around in the kitchen where Jamie was sitting on one of the kitchen stools and sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But make it quick.”

He stomped upstairs, throwing his Quidditch gear into the closet and going into the bedroom. Hermione went back into the kitchen, smiled at Jamie, and cooked dinner, trying taking as long as she could. She wasn’t in the mood for Ron tonight. She was too tired and exhausted to have to go through what he had in mind.

Soon, she thought. Soon she and Draco would finish passing this new law and it would all be over.