Prologue
Hermione Granger-Weasley sat at her desk at the Muggle Liaison Office at the Ministry of Magic. She had just returned from the minister's office. Kingsley had assigned her a very interesting case. It was about a muggle man from Greece who had been sending out energy, doing home-made magic rituals. This activity had been noted for a while now, but during the past few months it had increased. Hermione was to research any possible blood connection of Mr. Costopoulos's —the man in question— with the wizarding world and, possible, travel to Greece to talk to him.
The case was fascinating for two reasons. Firstly, because it was very unusual —impossible, by definition— for a muggle to send out energy. Muggles were the people who had no magical abilities in them whatsoever; they couldn't perform magic, period. Yet this man could, although the ministry doubted if he had any results.
Secondly, because if she managed to deal with the case properly she would be first in row to succeed the soon retiring head of the office. Hermione loved her work and got enough money out of it; she had a very loving family growing with Ron, great relations with her parents and in-laws and she was very happy. Yet there was something missing: the thrill of being the first in class, the top in everything she did. The satisfaction of the victory. Hermione hadn't had that since the war ended, since she stopped being the top student of Hogwarts and the top fighter of Dumbledore's Army.
So, yes, it was ambition. Hermione accepted that. But she also knew it wasn't the Slytherin type ambition Voldemort or even Dumbledore had. So, it wasn't bad.
She opened the large folder and started reading aloud: "Reports from the department of international magical cooperation, office of connected countries. Sunday, February 1st, 2009: Increased magical activity in Thessaloniki, Greece. Source: 7th floor flat in 29, Mitropoleos street. Description: Home-made ritual, asking for a better-looking body. Person involved: Alexandros Costopoulos. March 2nd, 2009: Same characteristics, asking for a lottery ticket to win."
The rituals were going and going. Their whole texts appeared in the parchment on Hermione's desk, getting more and more desperate over time. They were, plainly, cries for help. The man in question, Alex Costopoulos, appeared to hang from a thin string: He was too depressed to deal with his problems, that included poor financial (couldn't get a job), low self-esteem regarding to his body (couldn't start a diet regime or work out in order to loose weight), low mental control to ask for a dismissal to the country's obligatory military service.
He was a complete wreck. All he could was to lay down and wait for the disaster to take place. And ask the deities for help.
Well, this was kind of ordinary. That's what religions did throughout the world: offered people a non-existing shoulder to cry on and ask for help. The thing was that, while generally their prayers went to naught, Costopoulos's prayers were actually heard – not by the Goddess he called but by the british ministry's magic sensors.
"Task:" said another piece of parchment. "Find whether Costopoulos is related to any country's magical community of not. If he is, get him in touch with it and help him with his problems. If not, help him with his problems and cancel his magical abilities."
Hermione sent a memo. She knew there was an office in the Ministry where a magical quill wrote down all magical children born. This register was used every year by the Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry to offer a place in the school to the children that turned eleven years of age. She asked whether the name Costopoulos appeared in the register.
Then she sent a letter to Gringotts Bank in London to ask whether anyone by the name of Costopoulos had a vault in the bank. She included his mother, grandmother and great-grandmother's maiden names in the search.
The words "Head of department" echoed inside her ears. If only she solved this case.