by DrT - Sahits

it in those terms. I, a brilliant shop-keeper's daughter, am forming a relationship with the first Duke
of Marlborough, the first Lord Rothschild, George Washington, and I suspect Thomas Paine all
rolled into one. In terms of raw magic, my skills and talent might be at the top of the normal curve,
but still a real, very large step down from Harry's. They also mean little, unless I manage to get a
job in one of the few departments in the Ministry where they count more than background, and
there aren't many where they do. Also, I know I want children. Having a Muggle-born for a mother
is a black mark. It's not as bad as having a Muggle-born for a father, or a Muggle as either parent,
but it is."
"Say I were to marry Ron or Neville, one an impoverished Pure- Blood with little political pull and
the other a Pure-Blood seen as being far less capable than he really is. My children would be at a
huge disadvantage. If I were to marry Dean, a Black Muggle-born, well, our children would face
just about every prejudice there is out there."
"And Harry?" Emma asked.
"Harry will defeat Voldemort," Hermione stated. "That, coupled with his family name and fortune,
well, he could probably impregnate fifty Blacks, fifty Indians, and fifty Chinese -- all of them
Muggles -- on successive days in Diagon Alley and Wizarding Europe would still be kissing their
backsides, when they aren't being jealous." Hermione shook her head. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't
love Harry anyway. If he were a poor Muggle- born and there were no Dark Lord after him, I would
still want to marry him, because he is so fundamentally good. I would just be waiting to be this
physical until our Sixth or Seventh year or after."
"Then why do it now?" Emma asked.
"Because Harry was abused by his family," Hermione said. "He needs love and affection to get him
through the fight with Voldemort. And I love him."
Unknown to Hermione and Emma, a rather embarrassed (if mostly pleased) Harry slipped away
from the entrance to the room they were in.
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