The woman stared at the sheet of paper with intense concentration as if to set a torch upon it. Her hazel eyes came alive as she perused each line even more rapidly than before. But it was to no avail, there wasn't anything to be understood. The wrinkles in her brow furrowed themselves into disbelief and intense worry. One-Hundred more were found killed in the streets of London. A muggle phenomenon. A magical terror. She crumpled the paper and threw it at the wall, amongst others just like it.

Her office was small and secluded in the back of the ministry. She had one window above the alley and was told to not leaves the confines of the room. Her job was to be the intern of the Minister's assistant, which meant the paperwork for the entire Ministry was handled and sorted through her. She saw the outside world through the newspapers, shocked by the world's indifference to humanity and all it stood for. It scared her so much she rarely went out into public.

There was a knock at the door.

Hermione jumped out of timid fear before calling out.

"Come in."

The secretary stepped inside and informed her of a meeting with the Minister. She nodded and promptly followed the woman through the corridor.

"Seems a long way, doesn't it? I've never met the Minister before."
"Shh."

Soon, they arrived at the office and Hermione was ushered inside. The Minister's office was lush and extravagant in the golden days but now it had dwindled to a larger version of Hermione's office with a better view. She was invited to sit down as the Minister made himself comfortable.

"Would you like something to eat, Ms. Granger?"

Startled that he knew her name, she replied hesitantly.

"No, sir."
"Very well. Do you know why you are here?"

She shook her head.

"I have been told that you are the brightest witch of your age."
"I would prefer the anonymity."
"It's a shame, you appear to be quite talented."
"Sir, I assure you that I am what you say, hard-working and diligent."
"As I can see in your work. You're outstanding in every way, you could go on to be the next Minister."
"Could? As in, I can't?"
"I'm sure that you'll do very well in life, unfortunately it can't be here."
"But- But sir, I've given so much to the Ministry. I've worked so hard. If I could only have another chance to prove to you."
"I'm sorry but the Ministry cannot be held accountable for you anymore. Now you'll have the rest of today to pack up your office and leave the grounds. After you do so, a sum of money will be waiting for 

you at the downstairs office including your paycheck. This is will be enough for your bills and necessities for a month. Until you can find a new job. It's been a joy having you work for us."

"Yes, a true pleasure."

Hermione walked slowly to her office, then quickening her pace into a short run, blinded by the tears mixing with mascara. She quickly shoved everything into her purse, a quick look at desk she had spent so many dark hours at, papers strewn across. Now it was just a miserable piece of wood with no feeling. She apparated to her flat calling out to Ron.

"RON! Ron! Where are you? I'm home!"

Ron scrambled out of the bedroom, his flaming hair untidy and clothes rumpled. He saw Hermione, her eyes panicked.

"Ron, I had the worst day."
"Hermione! Hey, sweetie, you'd said you'd be late." Ron embraced her kissing her cheek. She looked behind him staring into the pupils of fate.
"I got off early. Who is she? Is that who I think that is?"
"Who?"
"That girl that behind you!"
"Hermione, Hermione listen to me. It's not what you think!"
"Not what I think? How dare you! Who is she!"
"Lavender."

Hermione pushed past him in fury, wiping away tears in her eyes. Ron followed her into their room, watching her pack her things.

"Mione, please don't get so riled."
"I'll be bloody upset if I want to be, Ronald. You, of all people, have NO right at all to tell me how to feel. You lost that right 3 minutes ago." And then quieter, "I can't believe you did this to me."
"There's nothing Mione! Nothing happened!"
"Just leave me the hell alone!"
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like? I'm packing my things!"
"No- this is stupid. You can't leave things like this! Where would you even be going?"
"Harry's flat. At least harry cares about my well-being."
"Bloody hell!"
"I trusted you! I trusted you and you let me down. Everyone is letting me down, and I didn't think- I'd have to come home to this. I can't even be at peace in my own home!"
"I didn't cheat on you!"
"But you came fairly close, didn't you?"

This struck Ron in a way he had never experienced. Hermione was going to leave him. Hermione was going to leave him. He wanted to grab her and never let go, forever holding onto her. He desperately wanted to tell her how much he loved her, how he would die for her. He wanted to go back in time and change everything but the only person he had ever really loved was looking at him with utter contempt expecting him to stop her. She was the only one who could equal him in rows, the only one that could make him weak at his knees. He had to do something, and quickly before she walked out on everything that had been left unsaid.

"Hermione, I, I, I love you."

Hermione wanted to cry.

"Did you honestly believe that would help? I need some time, Ronald." She curtly turned and looked at Lavender. "I hope you're happy together. I know I used to be." Hermione, bag in hand, walked down the stairs of the apartment building. She passed familiar faces calling her name, lips moving, engaged faces but she pressed on. She couldn't stop now. She kept thinking of all the signs she had missed. Late nights of working at the Ministry, and the earring in the couch were all palpable clues she should have guessed. Stepping into the side alley, she apparated to Harry's flat instantly.

She knocked on Harry's door violently. Again.

"Harry?"

He opened the door in a rushed fashion and saw Hermione in shambles and quickly ushered her inside, preparing her some ginseng tea. Hermione sat on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her, a box of tissues on the coffee table.

"Terrible weather outside. So dreary. Here's some tea, it's your favorite."
"Harry, do you ever feel like giving up? I mean, the darkest person in the world wants you for dead and yet you still fight him, every day almost. You never give up."
"I can't give up. It's not just about me, it's the whole world that I have to protect. Good against evil. Love against hate. I don't quite follow what you're saying though."
"I don't either." She said, sipping her tea quietly. "You can ask, I won't – I don't know."

"Hermione, What happened to you?"
"I got fired from the Ministry." Harry gasped. "And as if that wasn't bad enough, I caught Ron and Lavender in the act. I just don't understand, Harry. Did I do something wrong?"

Harry came over to sit next to her, extending his arm around her comfortingly.

"Not at all. Look at me," Hermione looked up with dismal eyes. "Hermione, I can't even begin to interpret Ron, or the Ministry but you can't let this destroy you. You're beautiful, clever and I'd be scared to be other end of that wand of yours. You're worth so much more than you're giving yourself credit for."

Hermione gave a weak smile, reaching for the tissue box, preparing for another hurricane of tears.

"I really love him, Harry."

"He loves you too. I know he does."

"Oh, I wish that could be true, Harry."

The daylight faded into darkness. Hermione's hazelnut mane of hair nestled into the silk pillows as she fell away from exhaustion into sleep.