The Harry, Hermione, Ron Triangle

JK Rowling has recently commented that she persisted with the romance between Hermione and Ron, despite this being less likely than Hermione and Harry, reported variously in the press, including here in the Guardian.

There is a third way, a path that mirrors the hard truths of modern life in the Harry, Hermione, Ron love triangle. It was rational for Hermione to choose Ron in the aftermath of madness, and the wizarding world needing reconstruction. He was safe, uncomplicated, undemanding.

But within a few years the mundanity of life with this very ordinary person would grate on someone with her extraordinary gifts. He would not “get” her, or understand her need to be challenged, intellectually, magically, perhaps sexually.

As for Harry, well Ginny was always the rebound girl. After crashing and burning with Cho, and being unable to match the martyr status of Cedric Diggory with his own heroics he fell back on his own safe option, the kid who had a crush on him from the start. Whatever he felt for Hermione is subsumed in that overwhelming desire to be noble; orphans are never able to believe they deserve at the expense of others.

But roll them forward a few years, when Ginny’s clinging neediness and increasingly frequent mental health issues from her brush with Tom Riddle will be tearing the fabric of the relationship. Harry can’t abandon her, it would be ignoble, but nor is she the anchor his own instability needs.

It leaves Hermione unsatisfied, and Harry trapped. Their seeking solace in one another is inevitable.


I have written some fan fiction elaborating on this theory – take a look

My book available here and here among others. Buy it, review it, tell me what you think


Atom Smashing


There was a time when the smallest possible particle was dust, from which we were raised and to which we would return. Dust that could be kneaded and moulded to make man, briefly, but in the end worms and disintegration would win. Dust to dust.

Then we learned of the atom, but the order of the world was not disturbed, for what was an atom but a smaller, harder, more perfect grain? A finer mill, a more persistent miller, patient and relentless, but we knew it was just grist. We understood what it was to be atomistic. Alone, unaffected, hard surfaces that could collide, but never crack.

How then should we measure the cracking of the atom on the scale of human suffering? The point at which the freedom of armour was replaced by the imprisoning fear that it could be breached. The terror of collision that could bind two atoms together in such an explosive incident that something new would be created, another atom, more dense, solid, permanent, and yet discarding energy like sweat from a bailaora.

And more devastating still: the knowledge they could be ripped apart with the fury of Armageddon. What God has united let no man tear asunder, and yet we could. If all that would be left behind was devastation, a horror of wind and winter as a new dust, thick and toxic choked the life out of the earth, what did it matter? We had the power to bring about the end of all things.

The days of dust, of marbles that bounce off one another and roll away unmarked, are gone. We have learned of binding and breaking; it cannot be unlearned. Deadly decisions as simple as a coin flip, but no one has taught us how to choose, or if we have to make a choice at all


My book available here and here among others. Buy it, review it, tell me what you think.