A Departure from Manifestos

By marauder23

A/N: Haven't written fics since I was in high school, so it's been a minute folks. As always, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the magical wizarding world created by J.K. Rowling. This story was the result of realizing the need for more femslash in the fic world and two of my favorite characters happened to inspire a little plot bunny I couldn't seem to shake. A shout out to a huge encouraging community behind this effort and said plot bunny: The Potterotica Podcast. If you haven't listened to it yet, get your ass in gear and check it out. I highly recommend it!

This story is complete and will be updated every week on Sundays. Please read and review as it makes me do a little jig!

Love and kisses -marauder23

Prologue: A Rather Unexpected Arrangement

She hastily shoved a quill behind her ear and her wand between her teeth as she quickly tucked the interoffice memo she had just received into a pocket of her robes. Hermione dashed about her cramped office, frantically gathering up a manifesto on the protection of Erumpets she had been working on over the past several weeks. With an already off-kilter stack, she added to the pile several texts she was referencing, and precariously balanced a half-eaten blueberry scone on top of her already heaping armful of materials.

Hermione had been working for the Department of Magical Creature Cooperation for just over five years (during which, she had successfully petitioned changing the horridly patronizing previous name of the department—honestly, regulation and control—Hermione Granger would not tolerate working for some touted up, oppressive department name such as that). During this time, she had worked toward more equal treatment of magical brethren and had made some decidedly significant improvements in the treatment of magical creatures everywhere. As per usual, however, this great success in her career was met with a total chaotic decline of her personal life.

Twenty-six, dubiously single, with no social life to really speak to, Hermione had rather fallen into a rut. After the demise of her and Ron's relationship in which they both brought out the absolute worst in each other, Hermione had taken a decided break from romantic entanglements. Thus, she rapidly climbed the ladder in her department and had somehow managed to find herself as the Deputy Head of the Magical Creature Cooperation Department.

When she had finally managed to grab a quick pint with Harry and Ginny to share the news, Ginny had brazenly asked, "Blimey Hermione, who'd you have to shag to get that gig?"

And although Hermione had laughed along with Ginny's jib, she also could not help but recall that it had been far too long since she'd had a decent shag. It had been eight months since she'd been out on that treacherously terrible blind date that Neville had set her up with. (How she had gotten roped into that painfully awkward interaction was beyond her—blasted Neville.) And to add insult to injury, many of Hermione's friends seemed to be on the wedded bliss track rather than killing themselves for promotions. If she had to go to one more bloody wedding this summer, she didn't think she could manage another round of patronizingly slurred: "So, how is your love life, Granger?"

Lost in this rather self-deprecating train of thought, Hermione was brought out of her reverie as she finally reached her director's office, the Head of the department. Hermione balanced the pile of books and parchment in one hand and precariously knocked on the wooden door before narrowly avoiding having the whole pile crash down around her as it wobbled wildly.

"Enter," came a voice from within as the door swung open of its own accord. Again, getting ahold of the teetering tower, Hermione bustled through, pulling her wand out of her mouth and enchanting the pile she held to hover at her side while she sorted through what she needed.

"Gadding, sir, I have that Erumpent manifesto for you to review before I send it out to the South African Ministry," she began as she found the document and thrust it into his hands.

"Excellent, Granger, but I'd rather like a word—" he began, but Hermione was still sifting through her pile of documents and texts and brandished Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

"Now, in Scamander's work, he notes that Erumpents struggle during mating season as the males have an unfortunate habit of exploding their competition—" she carried on, unaware of Gadding's interruption, and holding out the aforementioned text to him.

Gadding hesitantly took the text but remained looking at Hermione in exasperation over her diatribe. "Yes, yes, Granger, but—"

And again, Hermione rushed on with her explanation, "I thought perhaps we could work in collaboration with the South African office to monitor the males and strategically place wizards through the plains during mating season and—"

But Gadding had had enough. "Granger! Do be quiet!" he exclaimed abruptly rising from his seat rather brusquely. The books that had hovered at Hermione's side crashed to the floor as her concentration was broken, and she looked rather taken aback by Gadding's outburst. Gadding, to his credit, looked appropriately abashed and resumed his seated position again.

He cleared his throat, "Right, well… sorry, Granger, but I need to speak to you about something rather important, and you were in one of your work-induced rants I'm afraid," the corner of his mouth twitched up into a maddened smile. "Really, Granger, you are quite difficult to deter when you are on a mission."

Hermione turned a delicate shade of crimson but managed to maintain some shred of dignity by holding her ground. "Well, that is how I wound up as your Deputy Head, isn't it?" she asked flippantly. Hermione maintained her eye contact with Gadding but was appropriately quelled after her heedless ranting. They had a good back in forth that way and their mutual respect was clear as Gadding chuckled.

"Too right you are, Granger!" Now appropriately mollified, Hermione grabbed a sheet of blank parchment from the disastrous pile on the floor and fished the rather crumpled quill from behind her ear, ever ready to take notes.

"Apologies, sir," she said, quill poised over the parchment. "What did you wish to speak to me about?"

Gadding smiled widely at this. Granger was his most diligent and hard-working employee, and it was no wonder she had risen so quickly through the ranks. He had a rather endearing, albeit frustrating, way of regarding her as he might his own daughter.

"Well, Granger, quite frankly, I feel your skills are being wasted with stuffy treatises and inane policy modifications," he paused and was unsurprised by her rather scandalized gasp and floundering expression.

"But sir!" However, Gadding subdued her with a raised hand.

"Yes, yes, keep your trousers on, Granger. Paperwork is crucial, but I want you out in the field on this one." He stopped short waiting for her reaction. She seemed not to have recovered from his dismissal of paperwork, however, and stared transfixed at him.

Visibly shaking herself, Hermione managed to ask, "What do you mean, sir?" Gadding was like a Cheshire cat now, waiting to impart the big news, Hermione didn't appreciate the shit-eating grin he had adopted.

"I mean," he began and trailed off to build suspense, "I want you to meet up with a Magizoologist in South Africa and work hands on to enact the manifesto!"

Hermione balked, unsure of how to respond to this. "Sir, are you quite sure you want me for this project? I do feel I'm more gifted with a quill than international coordination…" But Gadding looked as if his mind was made up as he thrust into her hands information on the arranged international portkeys and her itinerary as well as other travel logistics.

"You leave tomorrow, Granger, it's all set," he said with a tone of finality as he moved to help her pick up the pile that had fallen to the floor earlier.

But Hermione's head was alight with questions which she attempted to stutter through while also reading through all of the documentation at top speed.

"Your portkey leaves, from just outside your flat at 8AM sharp, Granger. It'll be an old tin cup, eh? See that you don't miss it." And he was ushering her out of his office and placed the heap of documents and books in her hands. "You'll meet with one of our Magizoologists straight away, and she'll help you get settled."

Flustered with this turn of events, Hermione managed to gather enough sense to articulate one final question, "And who is this Magizoologist I'm meeting, then?"

Gadding grinned again and stated baldly, "I believe you two knew each other at school? Her name's Luna Lovegood." And with that Gadding shut the door of his office with Hermione still staring dumbfounded at the door.

She was going to be working with Looney Lovegood? She mentally reprimanded herself for the unkind thought. Luna and she had never quite got on the way Luna and Ginny did, but perhaps this would be a good opportunity to get to know the witch better. After all, she hadn't seen Luna since Harry and Ginny's wedding two years prior. It might be good to hear about how she was faring these days since she had clearly worked hard to become a Magizoologist since they had last spoken. But, sweet Merlin, if she brought up wrackspurts or Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, she didn't think she could control a mutinous eye-roll from happening.

She sighed heavily as she made her way back to her office. Well, this was bound to be an interesting summer.