A/N: Flickerphile, sorry it's so short, I promise the next chapter will be longer!
Hermione had never really known what she was going to when she left school. She had always just worried about getting the results that she knew would get her a good job in the end. But she had never quite figured out what job. Of course, she had fantisised about being an auror or a healer, etc, but when Minerva had approached her two months ago, she didn't know why she hadn't thought to become a teacher before. She loved teaching people, it made her feel superior, although that wasn't what she told Minerva obviously. She had previously been working in the department of mysteries doing things that she wasn't at a liberty to discuss. In fact she couldn't, they had charmed her so that her tongue wouldn't move when she thought of talking about it. Not that she would say anything anyway.
Many people asked her if working in the department of mysteries was nerve-wracking, and she always told them the truth – it was, a little, but nothing she couldn't handle. But it was nothing compared to how nervous she felt about returning to Hogwarts. It just held so many precious memories, and what if her new experiences ruined it for her? What if she was a terrible teacher? What if no one liked her? She cringed at her own thoughts. She was Hermione Granger; she didn't need to think of such petty things. As she bustled around her tiny London flat gathering her things and packing them neatly into her purse, she dearly wished that she could have taken the Hogwarts Express. For nostalgic reasons and also she was trying to put off going. Minerva had remained adamant that she come to the castle 5 days before the start of term to settle in and meet all of the other teachers. She sighed, gathering her cloaks about her and clutching her purse tightly before apparating with a swish of material.
She appeared directly outside the gates; the black metal looming over her. It was time to go back to school.