It's Kind of a Funny Story

It was maddening, the lack of consideration they gave her.

After the war, you would think that blood prejudices would be a little closer to non-existent.

Hermione Granger knew that this was a complete and utter lie. She had to work twice as hard to get half of the consideration that a pureblood got. She could tell from the silence outside of her office that it was late - she didn't have a clock in her office, or a watch, and simply left whenever her work was done, which was usually a few hours after she was scheduled to be off.

Today was one of those days. Her boss had several pieces of paperwork for her to review - contracts to double-check for loopholes, make sure that law proposals were airtight. There was also a proposal in there to bring up the rating of werewolves, something that infuriated her beyond belief - didn't her boss know who she was? That sound like she was full of herself - she wasn't, really, but still...

After trying to burn holes in the papers with her eyes, Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples. How long had she been at the Ministry today? Twelve, fourteen hours? Something like that.

She stood up and winced as the bones in her back cracked, and buttoned up her cloak over her robes. This August was a chilly one, she reflected, as she left the Ministry and walked to the Apparation point.

She reappeared at the Burrow moments later, just outside the door. She sneaked in quietly, shrugging off her cloak and placing it neatly on the stands. There was a few people talking in the sitting room over candlelight - she could make out Charlie and one of the twins. Since the light was rather dim, she couldn't tell which was which.

She startled them from their conversation. "Did you just get back now, Granger?" one of the twins asked, and narrowing her eyes, she determined it was George.

"I had a lot of work to do," she said, but instead of sounding sharp as she'd intended, she sounded hollow. Hermione sighed and slipped from the room, as the boys kept speaking.

Avoiding the creaks of the old house, Hermione slipped back into Ginny's bedroom and onto the cot that had been her bed for the past four months. Picking some pyjamas, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, plait her hair, and prepare for bed. Feeling like her eyelids were getting heavier with every moment, she slipped beneath the covers, and a few seconds after her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

She woke up the next morning bright and early, just like usual. There was a bit of light streaming in from underneath the curtains.

Hermione rolled her feet out of bed - Ginny was still sleeping. She looked at the clock - six-thirty. No one, save herself and Molly, would be up at this time of the morning.

She went down the stairs, where Molly was preparing breakfast.

"Good morning, Hermione," she said warmly, setting out a plate of toast with a warming charm on it.

"Good morning, Molly," she replied, sitting down at the table and taking a piece of toast. Molly set down a cup of tea in front of her, and Hermione smiled, sipping the hot liquid gently.

After the brief breakfast, she returned upstairs to Ginny's bedroom, finding her work robes and her toiletries. She hurried to the bathroom - she began work at eight in the morning, and she liked to be early.

The shower was calming, scalding hot and relaxing her tense muscles as she washed her hair and her body, and only allowed herself a brief moment to enjoy the sensation before she stepped out, drying herself off and getting dressed, letting her hair dry naturally. She never liked the sensation drying charms caused, a funny prickling feeling.

After her shower, she came down the stairs and put her cloak on, once more. People were beginning to trickle down - Charlie, who was visiting, gave her a nod while chewing and one of the twins (she didn't get a very good glance - she was busy, she had work to do) bumped her shoulder and said "Don't work too hard, there."

"Hermione?" said Molly.

She turned around. The woman was frowning a bit at her, looking slightly upset.

"Yes?" she answered, doing up the buttons of her cloak.

"Would it be a terrible inconvience for you to come home early today, Hermione? I know you have lots of work to do, but Arthur and I were just speaking about how you've been absent from dinner for weeks now, dear..." Molly trailed off, frowning but hopeful.

Hermione felt terribly guilty as Molly spoke - she hadn't really spoken with anyone, had she? If she worked hard today, and her boss didn't give her any extra work, she might be... no, she would, she hadn't been to a dinner in weeks now, and she hadn't seen Ginny and Harry and Ron for a while, since they were asleep when she left and asleep once more when she returned.

"Okay," she said, nodding. "Thank you for reminding me."

Hermione finished doing up her cloak, and stepped outside, apparating to the Ministry.

She hadn't been at her office for five minutes when her boss had burst inside her office.

Mr. Greensfield was most likely as wide as he was tall, with a few grey hairs remaining on his mostly bald head. He barely even looked at her when he dumped a new pile of parchment on her desk.

"This has to be finished for tomorrow, Granger," he said. "You're efficient, girl. I don't have a doubt that you can finish this."

Hermione nodded silently and slipped off her cloak, draping it on the back of her chair. She took the first parchment and began reviewing it - oh, it was going to be a long day.

There were three things remaining in the stack of parchment - a contract to review, an absurd law that wanted passing, and a strange lawsuit towards Mr. Greensfield himself - she wasn't aware she was controlling his personal affairs, now. That was most definitely not in the job agreement. She'd take that up with him tomorrow.

There was chatter as people left the office - it was six o'clock.

Hermione neatly arranged the parchment into her bag, and slinging it over her shoulder, she left the Ministry with an influx of other people.

She was nearly at the Apparation point when someone ran into her. She stumbled forward a bit, catching herself and turning to apologize, when -
"Watch yourself," snapped Draco Malfoy, stepping around her and continuing on like she hadn't almost fell to the ground.

Hermione shook her head. Well, it was a step up from calling her a Mudblood, right? The scar on her arm seemed to pain her a bit as she continued walking, and she had almost began the flashbacks again when she realized she was at the Apparation point.

Stopping, she cleared her mind of those negative thoughts, and Apparated back to the Burrow.

When she got there, it was alive. Alive, with the smell of delicious, home-cooked food, with chatter in the air and overall, a very happy aura.

Fred and George were entertaining Harry and Ginny by cracking lewd jokes, causing Molly to brandish her favourite weapon - a frying pan - at them every once and a while. Bill and Fleur were talking with Charlie in a corner, and Percy and Arthur sat discussing the latest happenings at the Ministry. She hung her cloak up. No one had noticed her appearance yet -

"Hermione!" said a happy voice, and something reminiscent of a missle came and hugged her tightly.

Ginny stepped back, surveying her appearance. "Merlin, I haven't seen you in forever," she said, poking her arm. "You work too hard."

"Yes, I've been very busy," she said, but smiled - it was so nice to be around these people instead of holed up in her office. It was just then she realized how much she'd been missing it. "It's nice to see you too, Ginny. What have you and Harry been up to? We'll have to get together some time..."

"Yes!" said Ginny enthusiastically. "Well, we went shopping for my Hogwarts stuff - you know, Hermione, I'm surprised you aren't going back. You can get any job you want, now, obviously, but you love school so much..."

She thought about Remus and Tonks, dead in the Great Hall, and Fred's unconscious body beside them, a terrible gash in his forehead. Fenrir Greyback leaning over Lavender Brown outside of the Charms classroom...

"I can't," said Hermione. "I'm already working at the Ministry. And... it would be a little hard. Things would not be the same," she said, feeling the truth of the words as she spoke them. Ginny nodded in agreeance.

"Very true," she said. "I feel the same way. Neville's coming back, and Luna will be there, though, so I won't be lonely all of the time. Although I'll miss everyone," admitted Ginny, casting a glance around the room and sighing.

"I know," said Hermione. "You'll be able to owl me every day, though."

"And you'll be able to write essay-long responses back," said Ginny teasingly, and they both laughed.

"Dinner!" said Molly, and there was a scramble to get to seats - Ron accidentally elbowed Percy, who frowned and scolded him, and Charlie leaned into Bill, causing him to trip. Hermione waited for the madness to settle before she took a seat, an open one between Charlie and Ron and across from Fred and George.

There was a bit of a commotion serving food. Hermione managed to get her food relatively quickly, and rolled her eyes when Charlie and Ron began to squabble over who got the last of the mashed potatoes.

"How about," said Hermione, as they struggled over the bowl, "you split it? It's the most logical solution."

"You'd think Ronniekins would learn to share," agreed Fred, flaunting his plate full of mashed potatoes and grinning at Hermione with a mouth full of food. Ron glared at his brother.

"Oi, what're you doing, siding with Hermione? You're my brother," said Ron, scowling. His momentary distraction caused Charlie to sieze the potatoes with glee and scoop the rest on to his plate.

"We don't have a choice who our family is," began George.

"- but we do have a choice who are friends are," Fred winked at Hermione, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Gits," muttered Ron.

"It's nice to have you join us, Hermione," said Molly, her cheeks a merry pink. "We hardly see you anymore, you're so busy."

"You're turning into Percy," one of the twins remarked. Percy coughed indignantly.

"I only do what needs to be done," he said, scowling at the twins.

"I've been getting quite a lot of work from Greensfield lately," said Hermione. "There's a lot of laws he wants passed, contracts to review, things like those."

"What could Greensfield possibly want passed?" asked Arthur. "The Ministry has engaged in all of his whims already."

"He wants a higher danger classification for werewolves," she informed him, and her voice was hard, strong and fiery, blazing with her feelings on the subject.

"Isn't it already at the highest possible danger rating?" said Percy, frowning.

"Yes," said Hermione. "That's the problem, see. He wants to create a whole new classifications, above everything else, just for werewolves. Which is a lot of unnecessary work - he knows my feelings on the subject."

"Hermione," said Arthur, "if they are making you support something you don't support, why don't you transfer? I know of many open positions in the Ministry, in different departments."

At this, Hermione frowned. Her and Arthur, who was two seats away from her were conversing, along with Percy, while everyone else began their own conversations.

"I have been putting a lot of thought into making a decision like that," she said, "but I can't. According to the Ministry law, I don't have enough seniority to request a transfer. Greensfield has decreased my pay, so I've been ineligible for any sort of transfer since July."

Arthur frowned. "That's preposterous. Greensfield shouldn't be decreasing your salary."

"If anything," said Percy, sitting stiffly in the straight-backed chair, "he should be increasing it. You are a very efficient worker, and no doubt you've gotten a lot done for him."

"Thank you," she murmured, feeling a bit odd at the praise. Percy hadn't ever said something like that to her before, and it was a strange sensation.

Supper finished in a flurry of laughter and food, and Hermione felt like this had been her first meal in years. Her and Charlie had discussed a new possible breed of dragons that the reserve had found in Austria - he was easy to connect to, and had a very cheery face that was war and inviting.

She had engaged in some banter with Ron and the twins. They'd gotten her to laugh successfully, grinning broadly and teasing her good-naturedly while they took the mickey out of Ron about a Quidditch-groupie he'd been on a few dates with. Poor Ron had turned a deep red and glared at his elder brothers.

She was feeling quite happy when she slipped off to bed early, after finishing the remaining paperwork at home - she supposed today had been a reminder that she needed to learn to balance her work with her family - well, the Weasleys and Harry. They were the closest thing she had to family now, after her parents passed away.

She took a long, warm, relaxing shower after dinner, and with her hair wet and beginning to curl, she padded into Ginny's room.

Ginny was still up, leaning against her headboard reading Witch Weekly. The younger girl grinned at Hermione when she slipped into her cot.

"So," said Ginny, "when's the last time you've been on a date, Hermione Granger?"

Hermione choked at the topic, shrugging and shaking her head. "You know I hardly have time for dates, Ginny. I'm not interested in dating right now."

"That's bollocks," said Ginny. "You're going to end up alone with Crookshanks, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't need a man to make me happy, Ginny," she said. "I'm independent. I don't need a man."

"I know," said Ginny, "you can put anyone in their place, Hermione. But... you need something to take your mind off of your work. You've hardly been around because of it, and it's wearing you down."

"It is not," Hermione said. "I've been..." she trailed off. It was a bad excuse. She was tired, and she never got any time off anymore. She was always at work - she had ethic, drive, but she wasn't sure if that was a good thing anymore. She never had time to relax anymore, to sit down and read a book and learn new things...

The logical part of Hermione Granger was rolling her eyes. You've accomplished everything you've wanted to, right? A job at the Ministry, being useful. Soon, you'll have saved enough to support yourself on your own. You can't take advantage of Mrs Weasley's hospitality much longer.

But the other part of her - the one that had feelings and emotions and thoughts - screamed something different. Just look at tonight. You haven't talked this much in months. Since the war ended, you've thrown yourself into your work. Doesn't mean you have to stop worked, because you can't, but maybe you should do more than work. You'll be lonely if you move out of the Burrow. You don't do anything but work. When was the last time you read a book for fun, Hermione?

Hermione sighed.

"You know I'm right," said Ginny. "You're just too proud to admit it. I know you, Hermione Granger."

She woke up the next day bright and early once more, repeating her usual morning routine. She had just gotten changed, heading downstairs for breakfast - Molly wasn't up, this time, when something bigger than her ran right into her, throwing her off balance.

She panicked momentarily - she was heading straight towards the stairs, face-first, and she couldn't stop herself. An arm looped around her waist, pulling her back up neatly.

"You should watch where you're going, Granger," said the voice, grinning. She whipped herself around to see a two-eared Weasley twin smiling brightly at her.

"You're never up at this time of the morning," she said curiously. "It was your fault anyway, Fred. What requires you to be running about the Burrow at -" she looked at the clock hanging in the corridor - "seven o'clock in the morning?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he asked. "A sister of mine who wishes to remain anonymous -"

"- Fred, you only have one sister - "

"- has asked me to perform a task. And I, the doting elder brother, have agreed. Which is why George and I have been at the Burrow for the last week. Anywho, I suppose I should be wishing you a happy birthday. Nineteen, innit? You're old, Granger."

"Birthday?" she asked faintly. What day was it today? It was a Wednesday in September, yes, but when...

"It's the nineteenth today," said Fred. "That's your birthday, right?"

"I suppose... I suppose it is," said Hermione, looking a little more than perplexed.

"Granger, did you forget your own birthday?" asked Fred, looking amused.

"Er..."

"Hermione Granger is speechless. Take a picture," he said dramatically, leaning his head back. "You know what?" Fred asked, leaning closer to her and grinning like a madman.

"What, Fred?" she asked, hesitantly. It was the nineteenth today! She had actually forgotten her own birthday... she inwardly shook her head at herself. Hermione Granger, the supposedly smartest witch of the era, forgot her own birthday. She'd been so caught up with work, but still...

"I think I deserve something for reminding you. A kiss, perhaps?" He raised his eyebrows and leaned closer, puckering her lips.

"Nice try, Fred Weasley," she said, rolling her eyes and pushing him away. "You'd have better luck getting a kiss out of Goyle."

"You've ruined the mood, Hermione Granger," he huffed dramatically, stalking away and winking at her over his shoulder.

Hermione sighed. Those two were definitely a handful, weren't they?

She buttoned up her cloak and headed out the door. Feeling a little bit lighter, she Apparated to the Ministry.

She knew she'd be back for supper at the Burrow.