Disclaimer: These works and character's belong to J.K Rowling. I merely fiddle with the lives. This is competent with all books, except the epilogue at the end. Thank you.
Twisted Perfection
-Chapter 1- The Finer Details-
Hermione was nervous. She was a very dreadful sort of nervous. Though you weren't able to tell by the way she held herself. Her shoulders were pushed back, and chin held high, that was how it always was when she walked through the halls of the Ministry. One expected certain things from the Mistress of Magic. Kingsley had decided to retire mostly because he needed a break after the war. He had only worked there for a year, assigning Hermione position as the deputy in case something happened to him. It had been a week since he had retired, and Hermione had become Mistress of Magic. Most people were pleased, and worked hard under their new leader, others were not. It had been a year, and a couple months since the final battle between Harry, and Voldemort.
Things had been cleaned up, and Hogwarts back in order. Most people were taking a form of therapy, and talking it out with others. Some still had emotional breakdowns, and of course the nightmares remained in people's dreams. Everyone had lost someone. Hermione could still remember some of her dear friends covered, and caked in blood.
Back to the original point, Hermione was nervous. People who weren't close to her couldn't tell, mostly because she hid most of the signs. However, if you looked closely on her lips, you could see trails of ink, and tiny dots. In her right hand was a broken up quill. If you put the two and two together you could see that, she had nervously been chewing at her quill. She hadn't done this since she had been in school sixth year, but she had always done it when she was incredibly nervous for classes, or essays.
Her hair, which had been somewhat tamed over the year, was in a twist on her head. A couple hairs sprang up giving her a more tussled look. With her left hand, she was tugging nervously at her blouse, which was under a light gray robe. She also wore a pencil skirt. She usually wore muggle clothes under the assigned robes for Mistress of Magic.
Tucked under her arm was the daily prophet. Licking her lips, Hermione remembered what exactly was on the newspaper, and sped up slightly. She pushed a stand of hair from her forehead with her inked fingers, before huffing slightly. She saw a name sign 'Harry Potter', and smiled nervously, knowing she had found the correct place. She walked up to the chestnut desk, and couldn't help the habit of straightening the name tag.
"Hello, Mistress." Judy, Harry's secretary, called out. And Hermione took a moment to compose herself, before turning to Judy. Judy was the owner of this very desk. Hermione was panting slightly, and leaned against the desk. She had walked from one side of the building to the other. This was the Auror section, and she was usually on the other side of the Ministry in her own office. But not today, for today she needed some advice. Advice from the one person who might understand.
"Good morning Judy, I suspect your husband is doing well?" Hermione glanced nervously at the door to Harry's office again, and lightly pressed the tip of her quill into her index finger. Judy nodded, and pressed her red tinted lips together.
"Oh he's doing fine. I know when you want something Mistress Granger, go ahead on through." Judy went back to doing the assigned paperwork in her hand, huffing strands of blonde hair from her forehead. Hermione flashed an apologetic smile in her direction, but Judy completely disregarded it.
When Hermione walked into Harry's office, Harry himself was drinking what smelled like coffee. The mug was at his lips, and when she walked in, and his eyebrows rose. Harry hadn't seen Hermione this nervous since there school days, which had occurred more than two years ago. She usually was so composed when she worked.
"Hermione, can I help you with something?" Harry set down the mug, and stood up, his robes trailing lightly behind him. Hermione smiled. She hadn't seen Harry for all of her busy week. He looked pretty much the same with his scruffy black hair, wide green eyes, and glasses. Not to mention his ever famous lightning scar.
"Hi Harry," She swallowed, and tugged at the collar of her blouse, before walking stiffly up to him, and shoving the daily Prophet into his chest. Harry peered down at it, before slowly peeling it from his chest, and glancing down at it. His eyes skimmed the page, and he ran a hand through his hair. The more he read, the more his eyes crinkled in confusion. Hermione took a moment to compose herself, and fix her hair. "Where's Ron?" She asked, trying to lighten the subject. Ron was usually inside Harry's Office. After the final battle, Ron, and Hermione had gotten around to casual dating, but after two years it was a little more serious. Hermione didn't like moving around too fast, and Ron was, content, with that for the moment.
"He went out to get some more coffee-I-" Harry stopped again, before throwing the paper on his desk, looking as disheveled as Hermione did now. "Did this come in this morning? I told Judy to hold on the paper since I was looking through the files." Hermione nodded, wringing her hands together, and biting her lower lip.
"I was working on looking through the employ's essays when I saw this, and I-" Hermione coughed. She didn't want to tell Harry that she was actually looking through other job files. She hadn't wanted to be Mistress of Magic so quickly, and was thinking of hiring someone more, competent for the job. She actually wanted to be a professor at Hogwarts. Minerva had recently offered her the job of Muggle studies class. Minerva was one of the only teachers she talked to on a daily basis. They owled each other constantly, and Minerva knew of her unhappiness in the job. So, she had offered Hermione a new one.
"And you what," Harry asked, looking again at the paper.
"And I saw this. You know what this means, don't you Harry?" Hermione asked, her hands trembling as she spoke. Harry glanced at her, eyes flashing. "Snape is alive." Harry shook his head, and slammed his palms together.
"T-that's impossible, and you know it Hermione." Harry looked astonished, but Hermione nodded.
"Yes he is! I checked into it myself to make sure." She swallowed hard. "They found him in muggle London; he looked exhausted, and really confused. It's been a year, and he isn't sure what's happened. They're holding him in Azkaban believing he's guilty." Harry looked horrified.
"First of all, he should be dead! We checked his pulse ourselves, and his heart wasn't beating, he wasn't even breathing. However if he is alive, the man's innocent." Harry rolled up his robes sleeves, and in that moment, Ron Weasley walked in, coffee in his hand. Ron generally looked the same except he was taller, and his hair slightly more scruffy.
"Hermione?" He looked at his frustrated best friend, and his girlfriend. "What are you doing in here?" Hermione turned coolly to Ron.
"Severus Snape has recently been found in Muggle London. The ministry is holding him in Azkaban, without, trial. I plan on getting him out with both of your help." Hermione explained, and in the next second Ron had lunged at her, face red.
"That greasy git, but Hermione, he's dead." Ron shouted, and then stubbornly turned away. "Even if he was back, why should we help him, he hasn't done much for us."
"He practically saved the Wizarding World. If it wasn't for him, we'd be in shackles following Voldemort's rule." Hermione clenched her fists together. Ron could be such a prat sometimes. Harry stepped back, leaning against his desk; he wanted nothing to do with this.
"That was Harry, not Snape." Ron sneered, turning back to her. Hermione picked up the Daily Prophet, pelting it at him.
"Read it yourself, but with or without your help, I'm getting him out." Hermione took out her wand, and Ron flinched but she merely whispered a silencing charm for the room. Quietly, and with a small breathe, she put her wand away. "You'll help me won't you Harry?" Harry looked between his two friends.
"Well, yeah, I'm sorry Ron, but Hermione is right." Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Snape helped us all the way through it, and if everyone's got the wrong idea about him, and they're shoving him in Azkaban, I want to help."
"I mean, I'm sure they'll be conditions but," Hermione paused, her cheeks heating slightly. This went unnoticed by the two wizards in the room. "After what you told us Harry, I think he could use someone in life that helps him." Ron's face turned a brighter shade of red that matched his flaming hair. Harry smiled lightly, but looked uncomfortable with the whole situation.
"He called Harry's mum, a mudblood." Ron threw the daily Prophet to the ground. "That's the foulest thing anyone could do. Why would you feel sorry for that filth? How would you feel if I called you a mudblood. Mudblood!" Ron seethed, and Hermione shot across the room, striking him across the face. Her eyes were filled with tears, but none spilled. Her hair fizzed from the twist on her head, and she glared.
"Don't you dare say a single word? I understand that word is foul, but unlike you, my heart isn't made with solid brick, and I can forgive a person!" Hermione wiped a hand across her eyes, before slipping back under a mask.
"Mr. Weasley, it would do you good to remember who you're speaking too. Regardless of the fact that I am your girlfriend. You need to watch what you say. Now, please leave the room." Hermione glared at him again, and Ron sighed before stomping on the prophet, and leaving in a rush.
Turning back to Harry, Hermione sighed. "He just…he needs somebody Harry." Harry nodded in understanding, walking up to hug his obviously frustrated friend. Glancing down, Harry sighed. For there on the front cover was a very void Snape, being led away in magical handcuffs, looking bitterly resigned.
Authors Note: Thanks for reading this. I appreciate the fact that people even read this. I know this was short, but I merely needed to get a point across, it will get longer. Please R&R, I'll update soon!