A/N so this is a continuation of "19 years later". It's a sequel of sorts, but the tone and direction are slightly different.
Disclaimer: yeah. i know. don't own HP.
Hermione Weasley was miserable.
She sat in her plush chair looking at the stack of papers on her desk with pure vehemence, as if glaring at the pile would make it spontaneously combust. Instead the pile only shifted a little, teetering dangerously on edge. A bit like Hermione. Seeing that her glare had no effect, Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes viciously hoping the papers would disappear.
When she looked up the stack was still there, sitting there ominously, challenging her to do her worst. "Hermione Granger –er...Weasley," she thought sternly.Hermione sighed, realizing the fact that she referred to herself by her maiden name was no small testament to the state of her marriage. "What is wrong with you! Just pick it up. That's it …come on." Hermione gingerly picked up the first 50 page report and plopped it down in front of her. The Union Sanctioned Alliance of Union Trolls and Gnomes in the Far Reaches of Lithuania and Scotland's Report on the Unlawful Subjugation of their Members to the Laws of the Tall and Otherwise Pointy Wizard Specimen.
Oh Joy, she thought with the images of tiny gnomes and otherwise gigantic trolls in an unholy alliance together infiltrating her mind. The centaurs were one thing, constantly filing complaints that would take her weeks—even months—to file and process. Now trolls and gnomes? Just the thought of more paperwork. It was enough to give her nightmares. Hermione set her jaw and gave the stack a withering glare. No pile of tree pulp could intimidate Hermione Granger. "There again with the Granger…"
Hermione was not an easily intimidated witch. At least that's what she thought. Nevertheless, she considered herself to be a brave, kindhearted witch. At this point, Hermione was feeling neither brave nor kind in the least. Out of all weeks the Ministry could have picked, they picked this one to give her an unsightly amount of paperwork to do. She loved her job. She really did. But there was nothing to love about paperwork. Sitting there writing various words in various boxes designed to be too small for normal quills was not Hermione's idea of a good time. Hermione glared at the report one last time before she opened it, her mind set to finish the report in the next 20 minutes. She read the first word and got up promptly, deciding a good cup of tea would be in order.
Trudging over to the kitchen Hermione plunked down a pot on the stove. "Why did I ever take this job?" she wondered as she took the milk out which she proceeded to measure and pour into the pot. "Right. I had illusions of grandeur, fun filled days of beating all of the nastiness out of the world, liberating the house elves, fighting for the rights of the down trodden." She sighed again, this time for dramatic effect, before returning to the boiling pot of milk in front of her.
Apparently the old adage was true, and a watched pot didn't boil. Hermione decided to distract herself and ended up staring at the living room window for the fifth time that afternoon. Two weeks and not a peep from him, except for a short letter. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, especially when it came to Draco Malfoy.
Hermione firmly shoved him out of her mind and instead thought about all the fun she was missing at that moment recollecting the events of the morning.
"Hermione?" Ron yelled finally finding her in the study sitting buried in piles of papers. Noticing this he turned to her, "So you really won't be able to come with us?" he questioned while making a pitiful attempt at a puppy face.
Hermione sighed pushing her chair away from the desk.
"Ronald, that face would make a dementor cry with horror and certainly won't make me change my mind." She ran a hand through her hair before realizing her mistake and pulling it out before it got stuck.
"And are you implying that I would rather be here with this positively dreadful looking monster pile of dead trees? Right, I didn't think so." She sighed and added a pout for good measure.
" I really would love to come, I mean a World tour! While the quidditch is a bit of a nuisance, think of the research I could get done! Did you know there was a recent article claiming that the tombs of the Pharaoh's have an ancient magical connection to the Tor and…?" Ron roughly cut her off and rolled his eyes.
"Okay, I get it, you would rather not be here, but you didn't have to insult Quidditch," he said pouting slightly, "I guess that means just Hugo and I will have to go. Ginny is going to be positively furious that you can't come. Tell the Ministry to add extra wards. " Ron grinned while attempting to flatten his hair in the mirror.
"Send everyone my love and tell Ginny especially. But don't worry about me, I'm sure I'll manage. But I'm warning you, you might come back to find me covered with hideous paper cuts." she said, waggling a finger at him.
Ron just laughed and prepared to leave as Hugo entered the room dragging a huge trunk behind him, excitement on his face. Ginny's quidditch team had won the Silver Cup Championship and was going on a world tour of matches leading up to the Golden Cup Championship.
Having recently become captain, she had invited her family to come with her for the 2 months and Ron had jumped at the idea, finding his job at the ministry becoming a bit stifling. Hermione kissed them goodbye and watched them disappear on their broomsticks before turning to face her piles of work.
And that was how she had ended up here. She resolved to wallow in self pity for a good 5 minutes, imagining all the home baked Weasley food she was probably missing at this moment. The smell of burning milk brought her back to reality by assaulting her delicate senses. She coughed viciously and quickly covered her mouth with a hand, the other trying to wave away the fumes over the burning milk. With a hand still firmly over her mouth she quickly turned off the stove.
Hermione shook her head at the fact that she was so distracted she hadn't been paying attention. She stared down at the remnants of what was supposed to be her gloriously motivating tea, wondering how this could have happened. If there was one thing to say about Hermione Weasley, it was that she liked to be in control. Lemonade will have to do. Hermione sat down with her glass in one of the wooden chairs and unintentionally looked up at the window again. "Wasn't the owl post supposed to come by now?" She thought grumpily trying to convince herself that her anticipation had everything to do with her next measly paycheck and absolutely nothing to do with the pale ferret boy. Even though he had long ago stopped being a ferret to her. It had been two weeks since she had dropped Rose off at the station and two weeks since their meeting.
Draco grabbed her hand pulling something out of his pocket. It was a small black drawstring bag, which he placed in her hand, protectively curling them over the package.
" You dropped it the last time we saw each other, " he said answering her question. Hermione stared at the bag unwilling to open it in front of him. Hearing her name being cried again, she opened her mouth to respond, but closed it at the look in his eyes. Draco still held her hand and moved closer, his face just inches away from hers. His eyes darkened as Hermione felt her pulse quicken as he leaned in. Their lips were just about to touch when he pulled back at the sound of her name being called. And in that moment she saw in his eyes everything she felt. Hermione leaned in and pulled him close, not willing to let the moment go, kissing him with all she could muster.
Hermione cringed a little thinking about it, how emotional she had become. She had known what she was getting herself into back then! Why was she changing her mind now? It was just a ring after all.
Hermione took the package out of her pocket. Pulling the satin drawstring apart she emptied the contents of the bag into her palm.
A small ring fell into her palm. A wave of memories hit her as she picked it up holding it into the light. It was encrusted gold ring with two initials intertwined,
D and H. Hermione's mind whizzed as she realized that he had kept it, a second wave of emotion hitting her.
She almost messed everything up for both of them with that kiss.
"Though neither of us seemed to mind."
And what happened after had changed everything.
"Do you love him?" Draco asked his eyes intense and penetrating.
"No…Yes," she said before thinking, turning her head away, suddenly unsure.
He gave her a look before kissing her again, lifting her into the bathroom and locking it behind them.
She wondered if he was in the same position as her now, worn down and thinking about the past far too often.
Hermione Weasley was far from a stupid woman. And as she played with the ring, now around her right middle finger, Hermione realized she had gotten herself stuck in something far too deep. Chuckling to herself at her situation, she discovered she really didn't care. Maybe Ginny was right about doing something dangerous once in a while.
She was shaken out of her thoughts by an odd sound coming from her fireplace. Setting down her cup, she tiptoed over to her fireplace, which was still emitting weird noises.
It suddenly hit her that the noise sounded like someone coughing, and Hermione picked up the nearest pointy thing, raising it above her head. She stood to the side of the fireplace, weapon ready, when a burst of smoke filled the room as the fireplace turned green. Hermione was very confused, seeing as she had turned the floo network off for the day, seeing as no one would be visiting. Squinting through the smoke she realized someone was standing in her fireplace, coughing violently.
" Bloody hell woman, ever heard of dusting?"