A/N: First off, I would like to say that I shall try to update with a small chapter each week. Second, this is my very first Fan Fiction ever written, so please try to be nice, and constructive, though I kinda want to know what it'll feel like to get a flame. If things are a tad bit confusing in this first chapter, they will be cleared up as the story goes on. So, please enjoy, and send me constructive criticism. Oh, and I'm still trying to figure out this website, so be patient, if it isn't too well formatted yet. And yes, I know this is short. Extremely short.

The Recovery Project

Hermione Granger was sitting on her couch doing what all Hermione Grangers all over the world have done best since the beginning of time; she was curled up on her couch, drinking tea and burying her nose in a gigantic book. At this exact moment, which would be forever sealed in her mind as the beginning of the end, she had looked up from the small, almost unreadable print, to take a sip of her drink, accidentally scalding her tongue, and to turn a page of the book.

A tapping started at the window of her house, which Hermione promptly ignored, blithely passing it off in her mind as some part of the Muggle song to which she was listening. The tapping grew more persistent, louder, and faster, until Hermione could no longer ignore it. Finally roused from her book, her gaze slipped over to the window, where an owl was perched upon her window box.

Sighing, Hermione put the book down, and stood up by the window, opening it, allowing the bird inside. The owl hopped inside, holding up a heavy letter, and looked peevishly at Hermione. She glared back, blaming the owl for interrupting her supposedly stress-free night. Sliding an unmanicured under the seal, she wondered what the ministry could want with her this late at night, when it obviously wasn't an emergency, as they could've easily contacted through floo.

Dear Hermione Granger, (The letter began)

I hope to catch you well, on your most deservedly free weekend; after all of the work you do so often for us. I truly am very sorry to interrupt you so late this weekend, but it was a bit of an emergency. I have a tremendous favor to ask of you. The great worker you are, I know you are ahead on every piece of paperwork to cross your desk, so the time off shall not be too hard to manage.

Hermione paused in her readings, musing on what this "emergency" could be.

I need you to spend time with a Mr. Draco Malfoy.

What now?

Of course, you haven't heard of this newest program, (as it will come out in the Daily Prophet tomorrow), but we are starting a new "Death-Eater Sympathizer Rehabilitation Program", as so many of those young chaps, and ladies have been taught their whole lives to think of Purebloods as better than all others. With the light side having won, I feel that it would be good of us to try and give these people a new chance in the world.

I hope to hear from you tomorrow, though I shall be fair and warn you that if you refuse this proposition your position at the ministry may be terminated.

With greatest love to you dearie,

Minister of Magic,

Gertrude Phyllida Pinpurnel

Hermione stood still, ignoring the owl as it flew out the window, the letter shaking in her hand, due to the breeze blowing in from the outdoors. Slowly she brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose, and wandered back to her seat on the couch.

This was the wackiest idea yet from the new minister. Gertrude Phyllida Pinpurnel had been installed as Minister of Magic a few years after the war, when, after reorganizing the whole country to the best of his ability, Kingsley Shacklebolt had stepped down from the position, handing it off to an almost insane, yet absolutely brilliant, and ancient colleague of his: Gertrude Pinpurnel. So far, she'd come up with the many and greatly varied rehabilitation for the wizarding world after Lord Voldemort. Every single one of which had been amazingly successful. But this was one insane idea Hermione was sure would never work out.