Authors Note:
I posed this story a while a go and lost my muse, fortunately I recently found it in the form off my wonderful partner and Beta reader. I have been able to go back through the story, flesh it out, breathe life into it and continue it. The chapters will be a bit shorter than you are used to from me, but they are much more up to my current standards.
As with all of my FF, I do not own these characters, that Honor goes to JK.
For those that surveyed the damage after the war, it was easy to see just how much of it there was. It could be felt everywhere. It took the Ministry months to sort things out, to plug up leaks, and to take stock of just what had been done. It took much longer to rebuild Hogwarts and all those protective wards. The school was closed for a whole year, with the promise of reopening once things were settled. Those that went to help the new Headmaster sort things out, knew just how extensive things were. Corridors were demolished, the ceiling in the great hall had caved in, and some of the staircases were missing. Classrooms took forever to make right, and let us not forget the library.
For those of age to have graduated the year of the Fall of Voldemort or that year after, when Hogwarts was closed, had two options. They could return to the school and finish out things as normal, or well, as normal as they could be now. The second option, was to do correspondence classes, via owl, and train within the ministry. Of course, there were a few exceptions, Harry Potter, for instance, gained immediate employment within the auror's office as a trainee. Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom were snatched up as well. Ginevra Weasley ended up going to an open skies tournament and was scouted by the Holyhead Harpies, and was in training to become a professional Quidditch player. Luna Lovegood started working for her father's paper, but still signed on to do the correspondence courses. Many names from those years decided to take the courses, even if gainfully employed.
Hermione Granger had decided that she wanted the courses, but she couldn't go back to the school, not after the battle that had taken place there. She too was offered a job straight into the ministry, but she declined. There were too many things she wanted to do first. Hermione had always thought very highly of education, and she knew that if she wanted to get anywhere within the wizarding world, she had to know as much as she could. She was muggleborn after all, and she was not born into this mystical world. Always thirsting for more, she had latched onto ideas and poured over books, wanting to know everything!
She was there, with her nose in a book, scouring the page looking for a solution to a problem. Her legs ache from sitting crossed on her bed and holding the heavy tome. The sweat pants she wore had seen better days, but they were comfortable, just like Harry's old long sleeved grey shirt he was going to pitch a few weeks ago that she kept. Harry was walking around in the room down the hall, gathering things for his day, she supposed. He was to go to the Weasley's for dinner, with his new work schedule it was difficult, but he always managed to spare a few nights during the week to visit with them. Which was all well and good, in Hermione's opinion. Harry and Ginny were a couple, and now with them both working they both had to collaborate around the other's schedule.
"Hermione, I'm off. Are you sure you don't want to go?" She heard him on the other side of the door and she stood, stretching her back, and twisting her neck. Placing her marker in her book, she set it down and walked over to the door.
"I am sure Harry." He frowned, of course he did. Hermione wished that she wanted to go, almost. Things were still to awkward for her there.
"Mrs. Weasley would love to have you, you know. She misses you," He smiled cheekily. "She says so every time I show up without you. Really puts Ginny out." Hermione did laugh then, "Why don't you come?"
"You know why Harry... besides, I have that interview at the ministry later. I don't want to be late." She took in his attire and almost wanted to laugh. "A suit Harry? I didn't think that there was such a thing as a formal Weasley dinner."
Harry flushed, "I have somewhere to stop before I head to the burrow, I have to look nice I guess." He shrugged and ruffled a hand through his hair, "I know you have the ministry thing Hermione. Just... think about what I said. You are always welcome at the burrow."
"I know, give them my love, and let Mrs. Weasley know that I will send her an owl. Go, I know you want to see Gin." She laughed and hugged him and watched him reach for the pot of powder, "and stop ruffling your hair, you look like you just rolled out of bed!"
Harry smiled widely and vanished into the fireplace. Hermione stood there staring at the floor of the fireplace for a good few moments, and then turned her eyes about the room. It was one of the few places in Grimmauld place that Harry had not worked on yet. Shortly after the final battle, Harry had thrown himself into the house, doing a lot of work by hand, molding the place into a home. It started with Sirius. The room that once housed the marauder now was fit for a Gryffindor king. A rich burgundy ran across the walls, gold trim drew attention to the high ceilings, and gleaming yet worn wooden floors felt warm and inviting. The posters that remained stuck to the walls, now fit in with a few Harry had put up, and some pictures of the order. Harry used this as a game room of sorts, a fine fit. A large console television sat on the floor, some bean bags in front of it, and an odd looking box sat on top of the television. A Playstation, if Hermione remembered correctly. Harry would disappear into the that room after a rough day at work to wind down, and she could hear the sounds from the telly from across the hall.
Regulus' room however, Harry kept Silver and Green, sticking to the Slytherin tradition. She often wondered about that, but Harry had set her straight one day:
"'Mione, why would I change the colors? Regulus was a Slytherin, I would never take down his colors." He wiped his brow after scrubbing the thick layer of dust off the floor. "I'm going to repaint it though, I want it fresh, the emerald lost its sheen." He laughed at her scrunched face. " Despite being a Slytherin, he wasn't a bad person Hermione. People can indeed change. He decided to go against Voldemort. He tried to thwart him, and in so deceived the darkest wizard to try and redeem himself. Why would I not honor his memory?"
"But it's so…. green" She looked so put out.
"Green is a smashing color 'Mione. It would look brilliant on you. Maybe this should be your room for when you stay. After all were you not the one pushing for Magical cooperation. House unity would go a long way."
She smiled as she thought about it, and in fact she did sleep there in the slytherin colored room, strangely comforted by the color now. Instead of sneering Slytherins, she thought of rich greens of the forest, the smell of pine and moss, and the comforting texture of velvet. One wall had dark wooden bookshelves teeming with her endless supply of books. One wall housed the four poster bed draped in emerald velvet, with cool silver sheets and a emerald down quilt. The back wall housed a large desk with a small brewing station and an interesting storage closet that seemed quite small on the outside, but she had charmed to be quite a bit larger on the inside for her potions making. Her trunk sat at there beside the desk filled with all her cloaks and school clothes. She had a perch near the window for the owl she recently purchased for school. Crookshanks languished in the corner on the arm of a high back chair.
Moving in with Harry had not been on her mind after the war. Once the battle was done and the dead were taken into account, she went into what she would call shell shock. It was over, finally over. There was no more reason for her to fear for her life, or those of her friends, at the hands of the Death Eaters. She could breathe. Of course, this is when the nightmares kicked in. At first it was just that night at Malfoy manor, hearing the cackling of the deranged witch and the sting of the blade across her skin. Slowly it morphed into other things, the look on the faces of the dead, soulless eyes staring back at her. No one had known how to help her, not really, and she wanted to disappear. It was not in the cards for her, why would it be? Hermione Granger, war heroine, why would she need peace? Harry had felt similarly, he wanted out of the limelight. Ronald on the other hand...
Hermione blew out a breath that rattled the bangs on her forehead. Ronald was another story all on it's own. He wanted the fame and fortune that came with being a war hero. He went on interviews and sat for pictures, even played in charity quidditch games (which is all well and good, you know the charity part). It wasn't just the press though, Ronald let it go to his head. He wanted the fame and everything that came with it. Not just riches, but women too. Hermione had clung, not desperately (most definitely desperately), to the belief that her and Ron were going to become a couple after the war. However Ron had never formally asked her to be anything to him, and he flitted from one skirt to another, and well, she got tired of it. She had once lived at the burrow, there with the people she considered a family, until Ron had brought home one of his conquests and she just left. Mrs Weasley had never known the reason, of course, Ron was somehow able to hide the woman from his mother, but the damage was done to Hermione.
Hermione ran her hand up the banister of the staircase as she wandered back to the second floor, to her room. It felt like an eternity since she had moved in here, but it was only a few months. Harry had been more than gracious letting her stay, but she knew that she wanted to get out on her own soon. Relying on friends was only something you did for so long, to be strong you had to branch out on your own sometime. It was getting close to that for her. Harry was like the brother she always wanted. He supported her endlessly, especially that first year after the battle. When she came back from Australia, broken hearted, he was there. Harry didn't know of course, it was safer for everyone involved during the war to just not know what Hermione had to do, to keep her parents safe.
Leaning over her bed, she grabbed the book she was reading before returning down to the first floor and heading into the kitchen. Kreacher was scrubbing the pots from this morning's around him, she grabbed for the orange juice in the fridge. She poured a glass, grabbed a muffin, and carefully opened her book to continue her reading. When her muffin was gone, she looked up at the now empty kitchen. Kreacher talking to himself as he cleaned up into the upstairs hall, the noises could be heard from where she was. Closing her book and checking the time, she was still well ahead of schedule.
Stretching once again, she stood and placed her glass in the sink before leaning against it and staring out the clean window into the garden. It was still quite overgrown, and she and harry hadn't quite managed to tame it. She smiled remembering: Harry covered in dirt, on his hands and knees with plants towering over him. Disgruntled and hot, the sun had been baking on the poor boy, and she was quite certain he had lost his mind. "What are you doing Harry?"
"Baking a cake Hermione." He looked at her over the top of his glasses and wiped at his brow with the back of his gloved covered hand. Dirt now smeared there, he paused, then tossed his head back with a chuckle. "Sorry, Gin and I had a wonderful row. Instead of being a bloody fool and yelling I came back here to do something else, anything else. I stood there at the sink," He motioned to the window, "and I thought, that is one bloody awful garden. So I came out here to try and weed it out a bit."
"How long have you been out here Harry?" She looked up at the sun, and then back down to her friend on the ground.
"I dunno, a few hours." He breathed out a deep puff of air, "am I an idiot?"
"That is a loaded question Harry." Hermione laughed, and he stood on shaky legs and walked over to the porch nearly tossing himself on the wooden step. "Would you like to talk about it?"
"Gin doesn't want me to be an auror. Thinks it's too dangerous. She wants me to do something else, anything else practically... I think when I broke thing off with her before the battle... I think she is still stuck on that sometimes." He pulled off his dirty gloves and tossed them down beside him, running a hand through his hair. "I wanted her safe, I needed to protect her, he was INSIDE my head Hermione. The only way to protect her was to keep her as far away from me as I could. I knew it was a stupid line of thinking, she was going to be loyal to me no matter what I did. She doesn't want me to leave her again."
Hermione didn't say a word, she knew what Harry had felt. The guilt of keeping Ginny away during the war was the same guilt she felt at getting her own parents out of this crazy mess. "Do you think I have a crazy need to prove myself?" Hermione sat down beside him and gave him a funny look. "The sorting hat thought so. Said I had a thirst to prove myself..."
"Tom Riddle had that thirst Harry. He was in your head remember? That want for power, that was Tom. You never wanted the notoriety, you wanted to be just Harry." Hermione responded automatically, "Harry, you want to do good in this world, you want to protect all the things that you worked so hard for, that is not the need to prove yourself."
"Thanks Hermione." It was silent in the garden except for the sounds of animals. "Do you think I am nutters for joining the aurors then?"
"No Harry, I would not think any less of you if you chose some other profession." She smiled at him, "Just do something you love Harry. If it feels like the right fit, and if it doesn't always feel like work, you have found the job for you." She looked out over the mess that was the back garden. "You know, perhaps you should talk to Neville. He might be able to give you a hand with this mess." Harry's chuckle echoed off the walls of the neighbors house.
Hermione shook her head with a smile as she reached for the book. Harry had gotten a hold of Neville, actually, he had come over, just the other day and quickly assessed the was a map of what Neville wanted to do stuck to the back door, as well as a list of plants that Harry was supposed to procure this week. Neville wanted to start on one side of the garden and work to the other, he had proposed working in plants for each of Harry's fallen loved ones as a way of remembrance. Harry had originally balked at the idea, but slowly had warmed up to it. Perhaps as more of a way of closure. No plants had yet to be selected, but she had worked with Neville and asked that a small water feature be put in, one where Harry could have some water lilies growing and small fish in a pond.
There was still a lot of time before her appointment at the ministry, so it was time to pamper herself a she was in her room, her book stacked neatly on her bedside table, she collected her clothes. Something professional, nothing like the things she wore in school, nothing as practical as what she wore on the run. Pulling out clothes from the wardrobe and looking, she wondered if she even had anything that would look the way she wanted. That is of course when her eyes landed on a dress stashed way in the back. Her mother had bought it for her the spring before her 7th year was to was shorter than Hermione would have liked, above the knee, which made her wonder what her mother had in mind for it. It was forest green in color, something younger Hermione would have balked at, and of course it was form fitting in all the appropriate feminine fingers touched the fabric, and she moved it to the side, that was too much for an interview...
Her fingers brushed against something cool, and Hermione brought it into view. It was a soft brown sheath of a dress with half cap sleeves. This would work nicely, she thought as she laid it out on her bed. Sheer stockings and a garter belt followed that onto the bed before she looked at her array of shoes. There were quite a few pair there, most of them black. She frowned before finding a comfortable pair and looking them over, they wouldn't do in their current color, but perhaps a quick color change charm and it would do the trick. She set them to the side and walked over to her jewelry box. There weren't many things in there, but she had these beautiful cream colored earrings and a matching long necklace that she could wear. Those were set out on her dresser, and she pulled out a few bangles that Ginny had picked out for her in muggle London. They were silver, cream, and forest green. A slim belt in the same green color, and a bag completed her outfit. She transfigured the bag and the shoes to be of that same forest green color, and padded to the bathroom.
After a long, luxurious soak in the tub, Hermione took to her dental hygiene, and then began to dress. As she donned the dress and the stockings, she pondered the conundrum that was her hair. She was never one for vanity, but she was aware of how hard she had to work to maintain the mop of hair on her head. Eventually, seeking a better solution, she had gone to Flourish and Blotts and picked up a few books on hair charms. She remembered the disastrous things that happened to her hair when she lived in the Gryffindor girls dormitory, she did not want a repeat. Some simple spells did the trick, allowing her to dry her hair, and twist some of it into an elegant knot on the back of her head. Some tendrils of hair fell about her face, but her jewelry was on prominent display. Satisfied with her hair, she applied a light layer of makeup. Nothing too abrupt, some soft green eye shadow, a bit of liner and mascara, a hint of rose lip gloss. Soft and subtle.
The shoes and bag she had prepared sat at the foot of her bed and she summoned her traveling cloak and set it neatly there as well. Hermione looked about her room and saw her owl Golleth had returned.A quick glance at her clock assured her that she had time, so she sat at her desk to write to Mrs Weasley. There were so many things that could be said to the matriarch of the Weasley clan, yet when looking at a blank piece of parchment the words were hard to conjure.
Mrs Weasley, Hermione finally wrote out, I know that I have continued to turn down your offers for dinner at the burrow. I also know that I left quite abruptly, and you were concerned about it. I am doing quite fine, I assure you. Harry has been a wonderful host, of course he isn't home half the time. I have an interview today at the ministry for continuing my schooling and perhaps selecting a career path. Hermione grimaced, it shouldn't be this hard to write a letter. Perhaps when things settle a bit more for me I could come over and we could have tea? I have missed Sunday brunches. I hope the lot behaves for you today, and I hope to see you soon!
Thanks,
Hermione
She wanted to roll her eyes at herself, but she folded the parchment, sealed it with a bit of wax, and attached it to Golleth. "Molly Weasley please" She murmured to her beautiful snowy owl. It affectionately nipped at her finger and rubbed her head against her palm before floating out the window. Hermione sighed and gathered the items off the end of the bed before descending the stairs. Slipping into her shoes, she summoned a suit jacket of the same color from her room and slid it on. The cloak and bag were the last things she attached before dashing the floo powder into the fireplace and stepping into the entry of the ministry.