Author's Note: Just like to point out this is a slight AU in that Tonks and Remus both survive the mass character slaughter in DH as well as me blatantly stunting their relationship... Meaning they don't get married or pregnant. Sorry, Tonks. The rest of our beloved cast that bit the dust in the series are staying dead, sorry to say. Also, mandatory EWE?

Hope you enjoy!

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The small office for the Werewolf Support Services branch of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was a bit of an anomaly in the Ministry. Having been closed down after its failure to ever help a werewolf, it was never thought to be resurrected. Departments that closed down in the bureaucratic Ministry rarely ever saw the funding to claw their way back into existence. Besides that it never really managed to do anything, many Ministry employees heaved a collective sigh of relief knowing that there wouldn't be any potential werewolves wandering the halls.

That is until the wild hair and overly impassioned Hermione Granger had muscled her way in. Post-war the Golden Trio had been revelled as heroes. The Boy Who Lived Again and his two best friends had all found places in the ministry, and while Harry and Ron had predictably immediately jumped into the Auror department, the wizarding world was surprised when the brains of the bunch had requested to bring back the long closed service.

And while the boys had trained with Aurors and shown off their prowess, Hermione had scraped together resources and funding to make her plan a reality. A year after the war had ended, with trials of lesser Death Eaters continually tying up the courts, the world had mostly moved on. And now Hermione sat in the office that was never supposed to come back, and huffed out a heavy sigh.

Officially open for the last 4 months, after months of policy work and proposals and fundraising, the Werewolf Support Services had yet to have a single client. Not one werewolf had reached out to the Ministry, despite the werewolf friendly attitude of the new Minister of Magic Kinglsey Shacklebolt, there was still a pervading stigma against werewolves that made them gun shy to seek help.

Hermione's initial thought was no werewolves had come to seek help from the original Support Services was probably because of the Ministry's very anti-werewolf position. But a pro-werewolf minister was, she had discovered, a small portion of the ministry. Or of the wizarding world.

And when she had begun to experience that stigma by association, Hermione was beginning to see why werewolves steered clear from the general population. Hate mail had poured in, ranging from concerned citizens who thought maybe she was misunderstanding how dangerous werewolves were to howlers announcing her to be a Death Eater in disguise and that she should be thrown in Azkaban for helping monsters.

She reorganized the pamphlets she had painstakingly made that detailed all the services they offered. The ones that some of her friends had taken out of slight interest, but mostly pity, and leaned back in the chair of her pristine office. Not much to clutter when there was no clients to help, and she stared balefully at the empty chairs on the other side of her desk.

She was saved from crawling too far into her head about her failure by her wand emitting a small sparkly bird. It flew in a circle chirping pleasantly, while letters dragged behind it saying "Lunch". Her heart lifted a little at the chance to leave her depressingly empty office and go meet the boys in the Department of Defence cafeteria for lunch.

She grabbed her small bag, a now dark suede one with a thin strap as opposed to the old beaded one she had dragged across the country side, and headed down to meet her best friends.

When she walked into the crowded cafeteria, she saw Harry wave her over to his and Ron's table. It had finally gotten to the point that people had stopped accosting them for more information about Voldemort's defeat, but she still felt the not so subtle glances as she crossed the room.

Smiling, she sat down next to Ron and pulled her lunch out of her bag and took the stasis charm off of it. "Hello you two," she greeted.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry greeted, while Ron nodded with his mouthful. It'd taken over 18 years but Ron had finally learned not to talk with his mouth full. At least in public. Too bad it wasn't enough to have had solidified their relationship after the war. Harry had been all too happy that they had continued as friends and not a couple, saying once he was glad to avoid their awkward relationship fights in the future.

Ron swallowed his cafeteria sandwich and hit the table as he laughed out loud. "Hermione! We need to tell you about these new recruits. Bloody useless, the lot of 'em."

"You were new recruits yourselves not that long ago, Ron," she reminded, with a grin.

"Yeah, but we were like, heroes, y'know? I swear these guys have never even cast a spell outside of Hogwarts, let alone in battle." He puffed his chest up a bit, as Harry laughed.

"Yeah, Ron? Like how in training you got your arse kicked repeatedly the first week?" Harry's comment didn't seem to faze Ron, who seemed to have finally held onto some confidence after all the accolades his involvement in the war had given him.

They chatted happily about the goofs of the new recruits, and Hermione laughed at hearing the antics. So much vibrancy in their day to day work compared to her tidy, quiet office.

Harry waved to someone behind her, and Hermione turned to see Tonks waving back as she walked over. Her hair a bright purple and her ever present smile fixed in place, Hermione felt the natural cheeriness Tonks brought around with her was a gift she'd never have. Which was more than okay- the world needed bossy know it alls with, as Ron put it, 'a love for hopeless causes'. Or at least, she thought the world needed them anyway.

"Well, hello to the Ministry's golden trio!" she greeted cheerily as she walked up, winking at Hermione after Harry made a noise of disgust at the nickname. Hermione laughed, knowing that Tonks had been fond of hazing the boys since they joined, lest they forget that war heroes or not they're still low on the totem pole.

"Wotcher, Hermione," she said in response to the laugh. "How's things in werewolf land?"

Hermione's smile fell a bit. "I'd love to say that it's make a big difference and that werewolves are lining up for wolfsbane appointments or job connections, but really it's been a ghost town."

"There's ghosts up there?" Ron cut in to ask, flushing when the three laughed in response to his question.

"It's a muggle phrase, Ronny-boy," Tonks answered. "Means there's a town set up and all the people are gone." She smacked Ron on the back and he shrugged and went back to his lunch, by now used to not getting every idiom.

Tonks turned back to Hermione. "That's a right shame. Remus could really use some wolfsbane instead of caging himself up... why haven't you talked to him?"

"I didn't know he wasn't getting any wolfsbane!" Hermione frowned, feeling guilt at not reaching out to him sooner. It really was news to her that Lupin wasn't getting the potion, but with Snape gone it made sense that his main supplier was no longer around. She had barely seen Lupin after the war, despite seeing Tonks around the boys every now and then, and she had determined early on to let him come to her if he needed help. "I'm sorry... I don't know Lupin as well as the rest of you. It felt like I shouldn't harass him about being a werewolf after everything that went on in the war..."

Tonks laughed and this time hit Hermione good naturedly on the back. "Don't be silly! I can bring it up with him if you don't feel comfortable chatting with him about his canine proclivities. He wanted to talk to me tonight anyway..." She leaned in to whisper conspiratorially with the three, " ...and I suspect that the talk might end up with some big news and a little bit of bling!" She winked again, at the lot.

Harry grinned, "That's excellent!" He looked at Ron's confused face and laughed. "Hermione?"

She sighed. "Why am I always the designated explainer?" She huffed and put her chin in her hand.

"Because you'd implode if someone did it for you," Harry joked back.

"Oi, I am RIGHT here! Explain what?" Ron interrupted.

"With that, I think I'm gonna take my leave!" Tonks bent back up straight. "Wotcher, Ron. Maybe you should bring Hermione on your missions to act as a translator of basic slang sometime. See ya, guys!" She ruffled Ron's hair, who scowled, and practically skipped away.

"Well, she's clearly over the moon," Hermione commented as they watched her go.

"It's good for them, though," Harry said. "They've been together for a while now." Hermione didn't bring up that Harry's estimation of 'a while' wasn't all that long, given most his role models had gotten engaged at 17. Ron continued to look at them confused, until something caught his eye and he scowled more heavily.

Hermione looked over and saw Draco Malfoy talking to Tonks. She was still smiling, but it didn't seem to reach her eyes, and she couldn't tell what they were saying.

"Nice to see him walking around scott-free. Like he isn't still some nasty Death Eater," Ron spat out.

Harry looked uncomfortable. "It wasn't exactly scott-free, Ron. I'm trying to let things go after testifying for him."

Hermione saw the same argument about to boil up again from when Harry first said he would testify for Malfoy. Ron had been furious, and Hermione wasn't exactly thrilled about it either. But Harry had been insistent. He said that with Malfoy Sr in Azkaban again that it was enough of a new start for their highschool rival and bully to maybe become something better. She wasn't sure who had put this idea in Harry's head, as it wasn't something she'd ever though him to come up with on his own, but it had stuck with him.

"Besides," Harry continued, "him and Ginny have become friends. She says he's actually alright nowadays. Y'know, now that he's not against us anymore."

Malfoy and Ginny worked together in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ginny worked as a consulting coach, as she was Chaser and coach for the Cannons due to both the publicity she brought with her recruitment and her ability, and Malfoy worked on the legislative side of the games.

"Yeah, well, she obviously has piss poor taste in men," Ron said, preferring to get a dig in at Harry than drag up an old fight.

"Oi!" Harry said with a laugh. "What you think, Hermione? Has the Ferret been through enough?"

They both looked at her to take a side, and she shrugged. "I like the money he's been putting into helping with post-war efforts. Even if I don't much care for him." She honestly hadn't said one word to Malfoy since Hogwarts. It was Harry that had had all the contact with him through the trial, as well as through his girlfriend's new found friendship with the man.

"Since when do you care so much about money?" Ron glared. Despite making decent pay as an Auror money was still a sticking point for him. "Seems kind of shallow of you, 'Mione."

She glared at him. "Not every department is seen as glamorous to include in the budget as yours is, Ron. I've learned the benefit of invested donors, even if they're someone like Malfoy. Writing up pleas for money to keep your office afloat isn't something you need to worry about like I do." And it was true. Fame wasn't enough to continually fund a budget line that wasn't providing anything of use to the public.

"Well, maybe had you gone to working in the Minister's office like everyone bloody thought you would try to do, then you wouldn't have to be so concerned about Malfoy's galleons!" Ron fumed. That had been a sticking point when she first announced her plans. How Ron had wanted her to do what was the most illustrious position available to her. He had an idea of them as some sort of Ministry power couple before they had crumbled through too many fights and gave up on any sort of romance between them.

"Cut it out," Harry sighed, all too familiar with their bickering. "Werewolf support needs to be done. Voldemort hurt a lot of werewolves during the war, and they were too easy for him to recruit. The ministry needs this, and Hermione is the perfect fit for the job."

Hermione glowed. Harry didn't often side with her, but his deep affection for Remus had meant he was supportive of this decision for day one. "Thanks, Harry," she said, feeling the sincerity of it bring her smile back.

She went back to her own sandwich that she had packed, feeling the easiness of the friendship between the three of them melt the argument away. Malfoy and Tonks had split up while they argued, and neither were anywhere in sight. What had brought him to the mess hall anyway? She wondered about his and Ginny's friendship... Ginny wasn't the type to forgive easily, and she had seemed to take a liking to him. Harry seemed okay with him too... but Hermione still felt the uneasiness about the bigotry he had directed at her during their school years.

Maybe he wasn't violent or dangerous anymore, but it was hard to let go of the childhood bullying when she hadn't even heard him apologize.

Her wand chirped when it was time to go back to work. The little bird announced that lunch was over. Before she left, Ron got her to explain what 'bling' was and what it meant for Tonks and Lupin. Unlike Harry, who had found the news so exciting, he shrugged it off as boring. Harry had called him a hopeless romantic, and they laughed before Hermione made the long walk back to the shameful silence of her office.

The mail had been spelled into her 'In' try and she sighed heavily as she sat back in her chair, knowing that it wouldn't be any fan mail. She loved lunch with the boys, and wouldn't trade their company during her sluggish days for anything, but it made going back to the quiet so much harder. When she had worked on essays in the silence of the Hogwarts library she had loved the focus she could achieve, but when all she had to do now was write up funding requests, the silence felt more like an accusation than a solace.

Her fourth year at Hogwarts had similar issues when she had started S.P.E.W., she mused. Using her own money to make badges and buy yarn to knit hats. The effort into clumsily learning to knit. It was, as she had told Ron, hard for a non-glamorous department to receive any extra money. House elves were even less likely to receive attention than werewolves were.

She sat upright in her chair. Maybe that would be a place to get some ideas. The House Elf Relocation Office was in the same department as hers, after all. And while she had briefly met the head of that office, she had never gotten a chance to really talk with her. It wasn't the same as support services, as Relocation really just worked with rich families trading house elves, needing new ones, releasing old ones and the like, but they still needed their budget approved every year like Hermione did.

Instead of setting up a meeting, she decided to just pop in. She walked down the hall and saw that Miranda Taylor's, head of the office, door was ajar. She knocked hesitantly and the beautiful blonde woman opened the door.

Dressed in smart navy dress robes, her blonde hair in a perfectly set chignon, Hermione felt out of place next to the gorgeous woman. "Hello, Hermione," she smiled. "What can I do for you?"

Hermione suppressed the urge to smooth her own rather plain robes. "Hi, Miranda... I was wondering if you had some time for a chat? I'm afraid I've hit a bit of a wall and would like to brainstorm with someone with a little more experience."

"Absolutely, feel free to come take a seat. I'll make some tea." She graciously waved Hermione to a chair and took her own place at her desk.

"Thanks so much. I'm afraid my friends don't understand the problem of funding," she said as she sat down.

Miranda smiled as she charmed a pot to heat water. "No, I suppose they wouldn't. Aurors have always been alright when it comes to budget time." Her voice was soft, which seemed to be a counterpoint to the blunt things she often said.

"I really would love to get some advertising done. For both werewolves who need to know more about the service, as well as for the general public to help with the stigma. If no one knows what we do or how we can help make werewolves and the public feel safer, then my office is just going to die again. I just keep getting proposals denied because of the dollar figures attached. How do you manage?" Hermione asked, while she looked around the elegant office. It matched Miranda in the way it seemed to be so effortlessly posh.

She poured them each a cup, and Hermione added her own splash of milk. Miranda didn't answer right away, and instead sat back with her tea and eyed Hermione up.

"Hermione, I can tell you care. A lot." She sipped her tea.

Hermione looked at her with surprise, holding her own tea and waiting for it to cool. "Of course I do! Werewolves in this country desperately need assistance, and when they're continually becoming more and more isolated after the war, then we really do need to-"

Miranda held up a beautifully manicured hand. "Can I interrupt?"

Hermione nodded, feeling somewhat abashed by the cool demeanour of the other woman

"Do you know where most the funding for my department comes from?"

Hermione nodded, having looked the budget over before. "You get it through fundraising. That's why I'm here- to see how you get approval to run fundraisers. Mine are all killed before I can go through with them."

Miranda shook her head. "No, it's put in as 'fundraising' on the budget line. It's actually just through donations." She arched a delicate brow at Hermione. "You see, I pander to my audience. Purebloods who can afford house elves wouldn't be satisfied to even come to the ministry if I didn't. I dress the part, I act the part, I do the part. If someone thinks house elves are vermin, I call them vermin. If someone sees them just as a tool or as a maid, then I call them that. I adapt, I don't fawn. Do you understand what I mean?"

Hermione felt the righteous anger from her S.P.E.W. days rise in her chest. She gaped for a moment before bursting out, "But that's awful! You're perpetuating those points of view by adapting to them! No pureblood will ever change their mind if you don't say anything!"

Miranda nodded patiently. "I care about house elves," she said. And Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Miranda continued, "I do. And because I care about them I work to get them in good homes and away from bad ones. But I can't do that properly without money. I'm sure you've seen that galleons make efforts easier. It's not an ideal situation, but it's the one I've decided to work."

Hermione frowned. The practicality was there, but she hated the moral compromise. It was manipulative and against her own principles... or was it? As a student she'd believed in hard work and cleverness over coming all obstacles, but since embarking on this journey she'd certainly used fame and connections like she never would have imagined she would have only a few years ago.

"If I'm interrupting a business lesson, I can always come back."

Hermione stiffened at the voice. Standing in the doorway was Draco Malfoy. Same blonde hair, same grey eyes, same pompous voice.

Miranda smiled at him, not seeming to miss a beat by his sudden appearance. "Not at all, Draco. Just having an impromptu meeting about business practice with Miss Granger here." She looked at Hermione, who hastily stood to leave.

Draco eyed her warily before looking back at Miranda. "I think I'll be coming back anyway. I'll speak with you later, Miranda." He nodded curtly and left without a goodbye to Hermione, who stood halfway turned to the door, unsure if she should leave or not.

"Well, he's not going to come back until later. You might as well stay. Mister Malfoy is just looking to rehome his elves due to the sale of the manor anyway."

Hermione sat down in surprise. "He's what?"

She sipped her tea. "Yes, well, I'm sure you can imagine less than pleasant memories reside there for him."

Hermione felt the stinging of the long scar that ran up her chest, between her breasts, courtesy of Bellatrix's knife. The smell of Bellatrix's breath, her own screams ringing in her ears, "We found it!" The pain that felt like it would never end...

She shakily put her cup down, to see Miranda observing her closely. "Or perhaps not pleasant memories for many," Hermione smiled weakly.

Miranda nodded, and Hermione was glad when she didn't push or ask questions. She watched as the other witch cast a tempus and looked at the time.

"I really need to get back to it. It was good talking to you, and if you want more fleshed out ideas, we can always chat again." She stood up and Hermione followed suit, grateful to not have to make conversation now that her mind had been dragged back to Malfoy Manor's floor.

"Thank you, Miranda. I'll think on what you said, and thank you for your honesty." Hermione was surprised at how much she meant it. She wasn't sure yet how to apply Miranda's tactics, or if she even would, but it was a straightforward opinion and she hadn't found many of those in the Ministry so far. She stood up and shook the witch's hand.

"I don't get often to work with someone who cares, Hermione. I'd very much like to see you stick around."

Hermione looked at her carefully, feeling there was something to those words, but not understanding what. Maybe Miranda was more fed up with the callousness of the ministry and public toward magical beings than Hermione had given her credit for. She was just so composed about it all, while Hermione was tempted to tear her hair out if the department head rejected one more proposal.

"Anyway," the witch continued, "feel free to come back again. It was lovely to chat with you, short as I've had to cut it."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "It really was. I'm sure I'll come back. Take care."

As she wandered back down the hall to her own office, her thoughts stayed with the blonde woman she had just left. Miranda, when their department head Mr. Crews had introduced her on Hermione's first day, had come across as a soft spoken pureblood lady of wealth. Hermione had felt an unfair aversion to her from that moment, and never would have expected what she had been told today.

She grinned. And Miranda's clients hadn't suspected either. And were donating, either in thanks, or in efforts to get what they want. Hermione didn't have the same pureblood clientele, but her own argument with Ron earlier today felt incredibly relevant.

When she got back into her office, she saw large purple letters had appeared on her calendar. She felt excitement spike in her and she crossed her office to the large calendar on the wall. She looked at the date it was on, June 11th which was tomorrow, and saw the purple script read "Appt: 8:15am".

She sat down and felt happy tears start to well up. It shouldn't be this big a deal, it's what the whole office had been resurrected for, after all. But it did mean a lot. It meant the start. The real start.

She finally had her first client.

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Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I hope the set up makes sense, and I'm excited to get going on some romance here. Things do get steamy (and maybe a little violent) later on, so the M rating is a precaution for now. I hope those that made it to this note aren't too upset about the lack of blood or sex so far. ;)

Cheers!