A/N: This is going to be a series of one-shots that are written for the HPFC Easter Egg Hunt 2018. This first one is for the dialogue prompt: "What? I meant it as a compliment."

Hermione kept her eyes narrowed as she watched Depree. He was giving her that same infuriating smirk that she had come to associate with him. It never seemed to leave his face, at least not when he was looking at her.

With a sigh, she tried to focus on her work. She was one more incident away from lodging a formal complaint against him. Her job had become all but impossible since he'd joined the team. Somehow, he'd joined the Ministry believing he was Merlin's gift to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and no amount of deriding from his colleagues could shake him off the idea.

He'd taken particular joy in informing Hermione of how to do her job since his first day, when he'd discovered that his desk sat next to hers. Bossing around a hero from the war seemed to be something he got off on, though he turned into an entirely different person whenever Harry visited from the Auror Department. He'd fall all over himself trying to flatter the wizarding world's savior.

Just as she was about to snap at Depree again, Kingsley came hustling into their department, capturing the attention of every employee currently sitting at their desk.

The Minister's presence wasn't unheard of on their floor. He stopped in at least once a day to deal with something or other, but he easily commanded the attention of the room whenever he did so.

Today, he made a beeline for Depree's desk, and Hermione watched with one eyebrow raised as Kingsley came to a stop, looking down his nose at a Depree who looked entirely different from the one Hermione had been silently arguing with moments before. This one sat up straighter and had no traces of a smile. He looked like the picture of a proper, do-what-I'm-told employee.

"Depree," Kingsley began, "what is this?"

Hermione had known Kingsley long enough that she could easily detect the disapproval in his voice, but Depree looked satisfied with himself as Kingsley held up the report that he'd bragged to Hermione about turning in just that morning.

"The final version of the Hurley Report, sir. I know I wasn't supposed to finish it until tomorrow, but I stayed late last night and managed to get it done."

"I don't care when you finished it, Depree. This report is a mess."

Depree's face fell, and Hermione almost didn't manage to hold in the laugh that was threatening to break free. A quick glance around the office told her she wasn't the only one.

"Sir?"

Depree's voice was meeker than she'd ever heard it.

Kingsley turned the report around so he could read it for himself and began to quote from it directly.

"'Conway refused to speak with the Aurors who originally questioned him, but when faced with Department of Magic officials—particularly the illustrious interrogation skills of Neil Depree—he quickly broke. Depree used a technique he perfected himself during his first six months at the department…'"

Kingsley threw the report down on Depree's desk. Most of their co-workers were giggling into their palms, including Hermione. Depree was staring down at his hard work with his mouth hanging open. He tried to come up with words, but Kingsley beat it to him.

"Official reports are no place for bragging, Depree. No one cares how Conway confessed as long as it was lawful. What we care about is what Conway confessed to, which you managed to condense to one measly sentence."

Kingsley took a deep breath.

"You're new." He seemed to be reminding himself of this more than he was Depree. "I'll give you another chance, but if something like this happens again, you will be let go. Good luck finding another use for your 'illustrious interrogation skills'."

With that, Kingsley was gone, leaving the Conway Report lying haphazardly across Depree's desk.

Hermione had a split second of indecision before she gave in to her impulse.

"You have quite a way with prose."

Depree glared at her, but for once, he was blissfully silent.

"What?" she continued. "I meant it as a compliment. If this job doesn't work out, you could always make it as the next Gilderoy Lockhart."

Depree's cheeks were flaming, and he kept his eyes averted as he hurriedly gathered the papers from his desk top, shoving them unceremoniously into a desk drawer and slamming it shut. As he stormed towards the direction of the restrooms, the laughter of their surrounding colleagues grew in volume.