Hey there, everybody! I know, it's been forever since I've put anything up on at all, so to make up for it, I'm writing a killer HP fic for every fan out there who wants a Dramione hit. I really really hope I don't lose inspiration halfway like I did with all my other multi-chapter projects, so fingers crossed, because this is the best thing that's come up in months. Seriously, months. So I hope you enjoy it! Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. This work has been created for creative and enjoyment purposes only.
Chapter 1: The Interview
The huge wooden oak doors of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry flew open with celestial force. A figure swathed in dark, flowing robes stepped into the Entrance Hall with a strange, calm dignity, taking one short look at her surroundings before proceeding through a door to the side.
In and out she wove through the empty corridors while the paintings muttered and commented about the lone, passing form. Her movements were short and concise, wasting no effort in responding to the moving portraits of the old, hook-nosed ladies or the knight on his fat horse yelling insults and following her through the frames. She was here for one purpose, and one purpose only.
Hermione Jean Granger was re-entering Hogwarts, her second home and holder of countless memories, for a job interview.
Rolling her eyes at the strangeness of her situation, Hermione thought back to the morning when Ron had first made the ridiculous suggestion to her.
It was the smell of Molly Weasley's legendary cooking floating from downstairs that first brought Hermione to open her eyes, and she breathed in the delicious scent of toast and bacon. Deciding it was time she filled her stomach with something, Hermione sat up and pulled the curtains open with a generous sweep of the arms. Instantly the room filled with the morning sunlight, and she squinted for a moment in the temporary glare.
The first thing she noticed was the silhouette flapping against the window pane. She smiled at the familiar sight as she opened the window and let the tiny owl settle on the edge of her bedside table, before scooping it up in her palms and plodding to Ron's room barefoot.
Not even bothering to knock, Hermione pushed the door open and let Pigwidgeon flutter over to Ron's snoring figure. She laughed gently as the owl landed on the tip of his freckled nose, and made a funny, high-pitched hooting noise.
The red-headed man in question groaned sleepily, and waved a heavy hand around his nose. Startled, Pigwidgeon rose up and took refuge on one of Harry's bags.
Still chuckling to herself, Hermione walked quietly over to where her fiancee was still sleeping and curled up in the remaining space next to him. He finally woke up at the sudden contact and, upon realising who it was draping her arm around his waist, smiled.
"Hey," he said simply. She poked his forehead in annoyance.
"Silly," she chided him, pointing to the closed window between his and Harry's beds, "you left the window closed again, knowing full well that Pigwidgeon has letters for you every Thursday morning from Bill and Fleur! If I didn't know better I'd think you were doing it on purpose, just to get me to visit you in the morning."
He smiled again goofily. "I forget, okay? I thought you knew me, 'Mione. Now you'll have to come in every Wednesday night to make sure I open the window too."
Hermione blushed at the implications and shoved Ron playfully. "Don't be like that. It makes you seem desperate. It's not like we don't see each other every day already anyway."
Harry, who had by now awoken to the commotion from the other side of the room, turned around to give the couple a baleful stare. "If you two have had enough of canoodling around like a pair of lovestruck rabbits, I'd like to go back to sleep."
Hermione blinked, having only just remembered that Harry was bearing silent, (suffering?) witness to their affections, and got off the bed with the intention of eating breakfast...only to be pulled back suddenly as Ron's arm hooked around her waist and pulled her back down next to him.
"What was that for?" she protested.
"You were warm."
Harry chose at that precise moment to fling back his covers and stalk out of the room. Hermione and Ron watched his pyjama-clad figure disappear down the stairs.
They lay there in silence for a moment, before he whispered in her ear.
"I feel like pissing my best friend off with my fiancee. You coming?" he asked.
Hermione considered for a moment.
"Why not?" she said, looking up at him, and Ron's face lighted up with a grin, dimples and all. He pressed his lips to her forehead briefly, before taking her hand and leading her outside.
"And this is why I proposed to you."
George Weasley was already sitting at the table when Hermione and Ron came down, hand in hand. He looked up as they pulled adjacent chairs back and sat down opposite him.
"Morning," he said to them smugly, with a knowing wink. Hermione turned pink, and Ron's ears went red. Harry, who was already helping himself to a glass of pumpkin juice, sighed in exasperation.
Of course, the moment was saved by the arrival of Ginny, who emerged yawning and plopped down next to her husband. Harry grinned, his mood immediately lifted, and kissed her good morning before resuming his breakfast. Hermione, on the other hand, blinked.
"Well, look who's getting all cosy now," she muttered, "hypocrite."
Harry chose to ignore her statement, taking another bite of toast.
A few seconds later, Mrs. Weasley came hurrying into the room, carrying another plate stacked with food, and judging by the newly growling stomachs, the new arrival was very welcome.
Charlie Weasley's stocky figure now came striding down the stairs, two at a time. He didn't stay for long; after casting a glance around at the couples and George's solitary figure, he grabbed a piece of toast and headed straight for the door.
"Gotta go, Mum," he called to Mrs. Weasley, before nodding shortly to George. "Good luck with the lovebirds, George. Merlin knows you'll need it."
At this, George's eyes twinkled. Hermione watched as Charlie's silhouette disappeared against the light streaming in from the open door. "What's he doing, going off so early?" she asked him.
George shrugged, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. "First day back to work; Charlie's not due until at least eleven, but I think he reckons he's gonna get a promotion. You'd think he was turning into Percy or something, the way he's been acting lately."
"Who's turning into me?" a thoroughly annoyed voice came from upstairs. Percy Weasley sniffed as he pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and, after bidding a brief greeting to the occupants of the table, left as well.
George smirked in that customary way of his, and for a moment Hermione half-expected Fred to appear suddenly behind him with an identical expression. That, of course, did not happen, and Hermione inwardly slapped herself for not having fully accepted that Fred was gone, and that when some kind of prank happened in the house the culprit would be George, and only George.
It had been three years now, but every time she and Harry visited, the missing presence of George's other half became painfully evident whenever he was around.
It wasn't the same.
Snapping out of it, Hermione only just noticed the silence that had fallen over the breakfast table, and realised that she wasn't the only one whose thoughts were running along the same lines. George was studying his now empty plate, mischievious grin gone as he remembered the absence of his twin. Harry and Ginny were unusually quiet, picking at the remains of their food, and Ron's ears had gone red once more as he stared intently at Hermione.
"So," George mumbled awkwardly, the slight crack in his voice loud and clear in the stifling atmosphere, "you haven't exactly gotten a job yet, have you, Hermione?"
It took Hermione a few seconds to realise he was addressing her, and she looked up hastily. "Well...no, I haven't. Should I?"
As a matter of fact, Hermione knew too well that she should. It shouldn't have been hard for her, with the grades and scores in the N.E.W.T. exams she had gotten when they had returned for their seventh year. But she never felt like she was ready for a job at all, not even while she was working as an Auror to reform the Ministry, and even more so after she quit just a few months ago. Harry was, of course, still an Auror, as was Ron, Bill was far away in France with Fleur, Charlie was still working with the dragons he so loved, Percy was in a high position already within the Ministry and George was running the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes solo. But Hermione? Hermione was the only one unemployed, apart from Ginny.
"Oh yeah," said red-headed woman piped up, overly brightly. "I forgot to tell all of you last night, but I've decided to lend George a hand at the shop for a while. Merlin knows it's no easy task."
At this, George managed a small smile.
Hermione sighed as her shoulders slumped in resignation.
"What should I do?" she appealed to Harry, who had his arm around Ginny and was looking like a puddle of love-potion. He frowned slightly at Hermione.
"Well," he began, "you know, you have a lot of options, 'Mione. Anyone who bothered checking up your N.E.W.T. and O.W.L. scores would be tripping over their own feet for you."
Hermione didn't know whether she should have been pleased or slightly frightened at the compliment. "But I don't want something that big...at least, not yet anyway," she protested. "It's not like I'm planning on going for Minister or something; Kingsley is doing a fine job of it already."
They fell silent again for a moment. The Weasleys couldn't be the only ones footing the marriage bill; not so soon after Harry and Ginny's recent marriage.
No, as the fiancee, she had to contribute as well.
Ron's eyes suddenly lit up as something clearly dawned on him.
"Say, 'Mione...why don't you go take a few years at Hogwarts? I'd bet you'd do the students there some good, with that big brain of yours."
Hermione slapped him on the arm. "I do not have a big brain, Ronald Weasley; I just studied more diligently while I was at school, which I'm sorry to say does not apply to the likes of you."
Ron only laughed as he brushed the playful insult off...
By the time Hermione reached the stone gargoyle to the Headmistress' office, she was unsure not as to whether she had made a mistake or not, but rather how big a mistake she had made just by deciding to come. The moment she had stepped into the Entrance Hall, she had been overwhelmed by a wave of nostalgia and memories of all the times she, Harry and Ron had stepped together into their united home. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was as unchanged as the first day she had entered, nine years ago.
Taking a deep breath, she told the gargoyle the password and stepped in.
"Come in."
At the command, Hermione pushed the wooden door open to reveal the Headmistress' office. Behind the desk sat Minerva McGonagall, who happened to be absorbed in her perusal of a thick and dusty-looking volume. Then she looked up, and smiled as she recognised her most favoured pupil.
"Miss Granger, how good to see you again. Please sit down."
Once Hermione was seated, Professor McGonagall continued. "Now, Miss Granger, I would like to know why you have applied for a position as a teacher here at Hogwarts." The request was a perfectly acceptable one, but tone of her voice told Hermione she already knew the answer.
"As you probably know, Professor, I have spent the last two and a half years working at the Ministry of Magic and campaigning for non-pureblood and magical creature rights with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. However, now that everything I have been in charge of has settled down to a satisfactory standard I would like to find a more stable and..." here, she paused for lack of a suitable term, "nondescript...occupation. Hogwarts is a familiar place and I believe the students here would benefit my teaching."
The witch opposite her nodded slightly to herself and, dipping her quill in the ink bottle beside her, wrote a few long, elegant lines of writing on the piece of paper in front of her.
"Well, that is perfectly understandable, Miss Granger, but have you any teaching experiences of credit?"
At this, Hermione wasn't sure as to how she would respond. Certainly, yes, she had taken part in teaching the DA during her later years at Hogwarts, but surely it would not be appropriate in a job interview.
Then again, it was not as if Minerva McGonagall was entirely ignorant of the unofficial gatherings that rendered half the Gryffindor common room empty on periodic nights. Leaning in, Hermione said, "I'm sure you have some idea at least, Professor."
Professor McGonagall studied Hermione for a moment, before leaning back in her seat and pulling off her rectangular glasses. "I think I do indeed, Miss Granger. In any case, it is of no concern; your final school exam scores are evidence enough of your high degree of intelligence and dedication."
Hermione didn't know how to respond to such a compliment from her former teacher, but before she could think of a reply, McGonagall's voice rose again, this time with an immensely pleased tone in it.
"I do not think I need a full interview to know that there is no one more deserving of the post of Transfiguration professor than you, Miss Granger," she told Hermione, the corners of her green eyes crinkling with warmth. "School starts on Monday; you have until then to move your belongings into your office, the location of which I am sure you know."
Hermione smiled gratefully. "I would be more than happy to. Thankyou."
And with that, she stood up smoothly and left the office.
While Hermione waited on the stone steps inside, she tried out the title by which her students would address her.
"Professor Granger," she said experimentally. The respect such a title gave her was enough to fill her with confidence.
She was no longer just Hermione Granger.
She was Hermione Jean Granger, Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Yep, it definitely worked for her.
Hermione was still brimming with pride when she strided straight out into the corridor, the word 'professor' echoing in her head.
What she saw next made her drop the new stack of books she had gotten from the office.
"Malfoy?"
Oh, how I love cliffhangers.
I know, it's a little cliche to do the whole coincidental meeting thing, but isn't that how all great romances start? Anyway, that moment where George does the whole "Morning," thing with Hermione and Ron was totally from the seventh movie (sorry if I spoiled it for people who haven't watched it yet, although why you haven't I cannot comprehend; it was just too funny to not tell...) and I just had to throw it in.
Speaking of Ron and Hermione...I KNOW. This is a Dramione fic, not a...what do you call those RonxHermione fics? Ah hah! Another reason why Dramione is far superior! Okay, back to the topic. Yes, it is a Dramione fic, but all couples are allowed to act all cosy when they're engaged, right?
...Right?
Anyway, it won't stick around forever. I intend for things to change from the moment Hermione spots Draco's sexy little head in Hogwarts. It won't be long until I update again, so stay tuned! When school starts I will decline to what I hope will be a weekly update, but there's no telling what'll happen when all one does every year is get more and more shitloaded with work.
Anyway.
Until next time,
ScarletInk314