Millicent Litelwodd had made it a clear point to herself and to others: she would never reply to her mail on the first day she got back from her holidays. Idly, she watched the owls deposit the letters on her desk as she painted her nails the latest shade of magic blue. It changed its hue depending on the mood of its wearer, and she delighted herself in watching the baby blue spread onto her forefinger, confirming what she already knew: she was feeling deeply and entirely relaxed.
The last letter was dropped over the pile of a handful of others that all came in different enveloppes; red ones, small ones, purple and mishandled ones. She glanced at it shortly before being distracted by the running and hushing of her co-workers who clearly didn't apply the same 'back from vacation' rule as she did. She sighed, contented, and drew out from her leather briefcase a fashion magazine she had started to read just yesterday on the beach of Oureah, which was all the rage for young wizards and witches looking for some fun. She lay back in her comfy chair, reviving the last memories of summer before going back to the same old, boring work that awaited her. She was not going to give a second glance to that pile of paperwork in front of her, not even to that golden enveloppe that topped all the others...
Wait. Golden?
Oh, Merlin.
Opening her eyes at once and throwing her magazine away, Millicent rushed forward to grab the shining, golden enveloppe. Its bright glow could only mean one thing. It came from the boss. And since it had been on her desk for the last ten minutes, it meant no good news.
Not waiting for her nailpolish to dry off, she snapped the seal open, revealing underneath the slender handwriting of Hermione Granger.
/
Amongst the paperwork flying all other the room and rearranging itself in distinct drawers, one could find an angry brunette scribbling furiously at her desk, her left foot tapping on the floor with a regular and infuriated rhythm.
She had been waiting for twenty minutes for the papers she had asked for, and was just about to get it herself when a hesitant knocking came at her office door.
"Yes!" Snapped Hermione. "I hope it is the documents I have been asking for – documents which should have been on my desk at least 10 minutes ago!"
Millicent rushed in with timid steps, extending her arm to deposit the files on the desk all the while trying to put as much distance between herself and the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, whose name gleamed in golden letters onto the plaque before her.
"H. Granger", it simply read. Just a few letters which didn't seem like they were enough to contain all the furious determination in the witch behind it. Luckily for Millicent's job, Hermione snatched right away the documents from her desk, already forgetting all about the terrified presence of the Minister employee shivering before her.
Excusing herself, Millencent rushed back out of the office, closing the door behind her. She was never going to delay any work from now on, she promised herself.
/
As soon as she got elected Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione Granger had set herself to defend the cause she had most at heart ever since her Hogwarts years: freeing the House Elves once and for all.
Everything had gone smoothly for her, ever since Voldemort had been defeated a few six years ago. She had gone back to school to complete her seventh year, and graduated quite predictably with honors. She had then followed the most logical path for her: she applied for a job at the Ministery of Magic, starting from the very bottom but rapidely working her way up to the top. Her reputation preceeded her and soon, everyone respected her not only as a war hero, but also as the most dedicated employee to be found in this newly-refounded Ministery. She had no time for befriending at work, but she had done her best to keep up a cordial relationship with all the members of her staff. Until a few months ago.
She had finally been promoted at her current department, and suddenly she had the opportunity to accomplish a tedious, but rewarding task. It had gone well at first. Working hand in hand with her co-workers, she had made a list of the last wizarding entrepreneurs taking care of the selling – and enslaving, as she kept on repeating – of House Elves. It was a delicate network, and most of these affairs were taking place amongst the higher ranks of the wizarding society – pure-bloods in majority.
The slow dismanteling of the many ramifications of the Elves enslaving business had been irritating. More than that, it had made her sour, while she had been at the very least – tolerable at one point. She had been called bossy and overbearing in her youth, but lately she had been the epitome of the domineering boss. Everyone was working too slowly to her taste – or didn't seem to care enough. Moreover, the twisted detours of bureaucracy delayed her work to a point she could barely endure any longer. The slightly irritated Hermione Granger had turned into the frustrated bureaucrat terrorizing – against her will – the people under her command. She couldn't help it – how could she? There was so much work to do and her hands were tied most of the time.
But not today. Today, she had finally received the documents she needed to bring it all to an end. After greasing the palms of a few shady people here and there – corruption had become inevitable at some point to obtain the informations she required, she got access to the name of the holder of the motherlode. The firm selling elves had a director – but after a few investigations, she had discovered he wasn't the one pulling the strings. Someone had bought all of the actions of the firm, thus gaining all rights on it as well as keeping it alive. Today, she would finally know the name – and no matter the cost, she would bring this person down.
Hands shaking with exitation, Hermione popped off the seal of the large enveloppe, drawing out a long parchment which would finally reveal the name of her target.
Her shaking hands froze as her eyes read through the paper once, twice, thrice, before accepting that they were indeed not decieving her.
Her face had lost all its color when she slowly laid the parchment before her, wondering about how on earth she would be able to bring Lucius Malfoy down.