Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I just borrowed some stuff.
Background: Voldermort has been killed. This takes place in Hermione, Harry and Ron's adult lives. The three are working at the ministry.
A/N: Currently in the process of re-writing this story.
Chapter one
Hermione couldn't believe her ears. They wanted her to go work in New York for six months for the private event The Ministry had been planning for months. Hermione had only been working in the department of magical creatures for three months and they were already sending her, and a few other people obviously, to work in New York.
Hermione was left speechless, she never expected that they would ask her. Sure, Hermione had wished to go, along with every witch and wizard in her department as soon as the news that a private event was being planned reached their ears, but to actually be a part of it. It was brilliant.
"So Miss Granger do you accept?" Her boss, Mr. Larkin, asks.
Hermione closes her mouth, recovering from the surprise and trying to look serious. "Yes, yes, of course!"
"Be prepared, you lot will be leaving tomorrow morning at eight by portkey."
"Yes, sir." She replies biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling.
"Right, right. " He says tiredly. "I'll see you in the morning, Miss Granger, have a nice day." He tips his hat slightly, spins on his heel and walks off in the other direction.
Hermione let go of her bottom lip and grinned. She was so excited. She was going to New York! It had been so long since she left England, the last time being when she was still a teenager. Things like work and having to spend time caring for her recovering parents always managed to fill up her time. She could never afford to go on fancy trips or even out at night with friends.
Hermine strolls over to her desk and gathers the rolls of parchment. She sets her purse on the hard wood surface and gingerly places the scrolls inside. Once everything is in place, she closes her bag and sets it aside.
Her station, as small and simple as it was, always tended to get out of place during the course of the day. As usual, she had to put back everything in perfect order. There were people who were supposed to clean after hours but something about walking out of her station with everything in a perfect clean state was comforting.
Hermione grabs her coat from the hook on the wall and puts it around her shoulders. She quickly does the buttons then pulls on a pair of black velvet gloves. She tucks a few loose strands of her behind her ear and pulls on a hat.
It was cold out. It always was in the evening. Hermione had learned from all her ventures out in the near night with her friends as a child that it was better off bringing along a coat then ending up with frostbite and a runny nose.
"Goodnight Miss Granger." A lady says from across the hall as Hermione signs the register. She looks up from her bent down position to find one of her fellow fcoworkersdoing up her own coat.
"Have a nice night Mrs. Greenwood." She says smiling pleasantly.
"Probably wont, with the children and all. They've gotten to the point where they never stay silent and Barry bought them loads of toys from Diagon Alley which keeps them up."
"Oh." Hermione sets down the pen and straightens her coat up. "I suppose you could have a babysitter."
Mrs. Greenwood gives her a funny look. "I'm sorry, a what?"
Hermione shakes her head. "Nothing." She licks her bottom lip.
"You're a strange one. Well, I suppose I should go. Barry just might send me an howler soon." Mrs. Greenwood gives her a slight smile and steps into the chimney. Instantly green flames erupt and in seconds she's gone, leaving Hermione alone.
Everyone on her floor had either children or husbands. But not Hermione. She could never have children. Not the way she lived. It would be too much. Besides it wasn't like she wanted children. It was too much of a fuss. Mrs. Greenwood was a perfect example, she always came to work looking drained.
A husband would've been nice though. But it wasn't like men were attracted to her. After the war with Voldermort, the three of them; Harry, Ron and her, had gained quite a lot of popularity. Mostly Harry, of course, but they still had been a great interest. In fact Ron and Harry had had lots of admirers.
At first that had bothered Hermione. Not so much Harry having young witches swoon for him but Ron. She'd always fancied Ron and there had been a time when he seemed to fancy her too. They'd even kissed and sort of had something for a while. But one day Ron just wasn't interested anymore and all her dreams of having a proper family and a loving husband shattered.
She realized she was a lot better off on her own, doing work and research. She didn't need a boyfriend to distract her from reaching her goals. Besides no one had never been interested in her that way. Not even when they had their fifteen minutes of fame. It was always Ron and Harry. With her people merely were awed by her wit and talent. Nothing more.
"Oh stop it, Hermione." She chastises herself silently. "It does no good dwelling on that sort of things." She gathers her purse from the desk of the register and walks towards a chimney, her shadow reflecting across the burgundy quicksilver tinted tiles.
She keeps her eyes forward, absorbing the distorted figure of herself sauntering across the room. Her eyes narrow and for a second it isn't her lonely figure walking but but a boy with unruly black hair and a scar , another boy with wild orange hair and a young girl running from something. Papers fly, screams arise, witches and wizards scatter and spells screech past their ears.
Hermione's breath hitches and she steps inside the chimney. A second goes by and she's at the front door of her flat staring at the brass number and mahogany wood. She sighs and closes her eyes. It shouldn't still be haunting her, the memories of her past, she should have already forgotten it. Or at least locked it up.
A crash from inside startles her. She blinks her eyes back open and quickly twists the doornob. The door slides open to reveal her flatmate crouched down beside the oven, covering her nose and swatting away smoke with a magazine.
Hermione merely shrugs and walks in. She flicks her wand, closing the door and sets her coat on it's hook. She no longer got angry when Linda ruined something. She was used to it now. It had driven her nuts at first. Linda would do the most annoying things and Hermione would always have to clean it all up and restore broken things to their original space.
"You should have just gotten a Chinese." Hermione walks slowly over to the kitchen, using her hand to fan the smoke away. "You know you can't cook."
Linda gets up. She brushes her blonde hair out of her eyes and wipes her hands down her jeans. She looks over at the oven, assessing the damage then shrugs as if deciding it wasn't anything that needed immediate help. Hermione though, sees the mess of burnt black food and spilled liquids and bites her tongue.
There was going to be permanent stains.
"It was on the telly, the thing I was trying to cook. It looked pretty simple. I wanted to surprise you."
Hermione walks over to the fridge and pulls it open by the handle, no messes there, and grabs the carton of orange juice. She goes over to the cabinets and takes her cup, the one she always uses and pours herself a glass. She brings the glass up to her lips then stops and glances at Linda's liquor cabinet. No, no. She wouldn't do that.
"Why so glum?" Linda asks walking over to her. "Something happen at work?"
Hermione swallows the juice then smiles at Linda. "I was just thinking."
Linda takes a seat at the counter, she perches her head on her palm and raises a brow at Hermione. Hermioen knew she could tell there was something bothering her on her mind, but Hermione wasn't going to say anything about it. It was quite stupid anyways.
"Something happened at work." Hermione says beaming for effect. Linda stops narrowing her eyes at her and looks curious.
"Yeah?"
Hermione nods and takes a seat on the stool beside hers. She sets the cup gingerly on the counter and folds her hands on her lap. "Thing is, I got invited along with a bunch from work to go to New York for six months."
Linda smiles and jumps up. "They chose you! Blimey, Hemione! Why didn't you say so earlier?" Linda hops up from her stool and wraps her arms around Hermione tightly, cheeering and rocking back and forth as she did so.
Hermione smiles and pats Linda awkwardly. She wasn't quite sure what to do. Hermione wasn't exactly the touchy-feely type. Sure, on occasional days she would suddenly pounce on Harry and Ron, enveloping them in her arms and clutching them tightly but they were pracftically family and most of the times that happened they had just been seconds away from literally dying. Needless to say, she'd only hugged her family and it was usually something emotional that triggered it.
"I think you can let go now." Hermione groans. "I'm kind of choking."
"Sorry. Sorry," Linda says pulling away, a grin still etched on her face and the smell of something like flowers and men's cologne following her as she out distance between herself and Hermione. "I'm just so happy for you, you really wanted this."
"Yeah." Hermione replies smiling a bit more genuinely this time. "I really did. And I got it." The smile stretches further with a small feeling of something like excitement and happyness bubbling up inside her. "Oh my god! I'm going to New York!"
The words seem to finally dawn on her and the slight sadness and nostalgia that had been nibbling on her insides all day suddenly pauses. She realizes how incredibly ridiculous she had been. Instead of celebrating she'd been thinking about Ron-bloody-Weasley and caricatures of her childhood.
"We should do something to celebrate your last night here, something like go out for dinner!" Linda tugs on a strand of blonde hair, only to push it behind her ear. "Or the pub? I personally would choose the pub, it's a lot more festive..."
Hermione drowns out Linda's manic babbling and bites her bottom lip to keep herself to grinning too hard. She looks over at her friend, whom was still talking away quickly about restaurants and food and whatnot, and reaches for her hand. Linda stops talking and frowns at Hermione.
"What?" She asks worriedly. "Was it the seafood? Are you allergic? I should've known you were, oh well, we can always go to-"
"Here's fine." Hermione says gesturing to their sofa in the living room. Linda blinks at her and follows her gesture, eyeing up the couch that was covered in all sorts of pillows, magazines and some of Linda's undergarments.
"Here? But it's a mess. Look at all my stuff laying about."
Hermione grabs her cup and slinks off the stool. "I'm going to miss this flat, believe it or not. It's only right I stay here my last night." She washes out the cup and sets it on the drying rack. "So, what should it be; pizza or Chinese?"
Linda curls a strand of blonde hair around her finger. "Chinese."
At seven thirty am Hermione had downed a cup of coffee and squeezed her bags, which were filled with all sorts of clothes Linda had thrown in of her own and makeup she would probably never use, out of the flat's front door. The whole thing wasn't even necessary, it wasn't like she needed be outside her flat to aparate to the Ministry but as far as customs go, apparently they stuck to you like glue, she did it from the mere familiarity of it. She'd been walking outside the door to go to places since she learned to move her legs and just because she suddenly possessed a wand and the ability to basically teleport to one space or another, it didn't mean she would stop the old habits.
Once the bags, which were also Linda's; an obvious thing because they were pink and everything Linda owned had at least a spot of pink, Hermione's were a normal brown and on the other side of town at her parents, were firmly placed against the cream walls of the corridor, she walked back inside and set the cup in the sink. She started to walk away, intent on leaving the cup dirty but soon found herself soaping it and placing the newly cleaned cup on the rack. Old habits really didn't die.
"Right." She says wiping her hands on a cloth and folding it neatly. "Time to go." She sets the cloth on the counter and looks around the flat one last time.
"Well bye then." Hermione waves halfheartedly at nothing and walks towards the door of the flat. She pulls her coat off the hook, slips it on and turns out the lights. Feeling satisfied and excited for what was to come she holds onto her bags and closes her eyes.
Aparating was still a little dodgy. It's been four years of it and she still feels like her insides are being compressed. But it wasn't as bad as before. The aparating was a lot faster and it no longer felt as though she was being stretched and torn. Also things like splinching and something that felt like motion sickness had ceased to affect her.
She finds herself at the mere entrance way of the Ministry. It was impossible to aparate on specific floors or offices for security reasons. As usual it's filled with witches and wizards moving slowly to get to work, and the screaming and shouting of vendors.
The packed corridor and strictly, closely moving body of wizards makes it hard for her to advance with all the luggage. It takes twice the amount of time than usual and in the lift she finds herself pressed up tightly against the wall, while her shoulder muscles tense up in pain from having to hold her things in place.
Most everyone gets off rather quickly. They were high ranking witches and wizards in the Ministry and they were usually dropped off at their designated floor first. Hermione, being on one of the lowest floors , is able to have the whole lift to herself so sits on one of her suitcases as comfortably as she can get while the it charges down to her floor.
By the time she reaches her floor it's already buzzing with activity from the other workers who came early. Hermione remembers the use of her wand and sets her things to float over to the pile of trunks and cases, she then advances into the main room where food is being served at a counter and witches and wizards talk in mellow tones.
Hermione had no idea who else would be coming and upon entering the floor she made sure to seek out any of her friends. Unfortunately most were ones she didn't know. There was only one of her friends and that was Lucy Harper; the girl two stations away from her own. She got on quite nicely with her and seeing someone she could have by her side while they were in the famous city was comforting.
What was not comforting was seeing a certain wizard with white blonde hair standing alone in the corner sipping at his drink quietly. Hermione's eyes darkened at the sight of him and a bitter taste formed in her mouth. Of course something like that would happen. Malfoy had to be there to spoil the whole trip. He was head of the Magical Creatures Department and very good at what he did.
He was one of the few that was dedicated to his work. He would stay after hours and even go to extreme lengths in protecting creatures that were being unfairly treated, as much of a surprise that was, and it really shouldn't have been such a surprise seeing him there but Hermione had hoped they would see him for what he really was, a slimy git , and not choose him.
"Very well, pipe down everyone." Mr. Larkin says entering hurriedly. He fumbles around with the pocket of his suit and pulls out a pair of spectacles. "It seems to be that everyone has arrived and the portkey is ready." He gestures at something hovering in the air behind him.
Hermione looks over to see a jewelry box. She ducks her head slightly and smiles to herself. They used the silliest things as portkeys.
"But before we go I am to designate rooms and flatmates, also explain the purpose of this trip." Mr. Larkin shuffles in the pockets of his robes again. This time he pulls out a scroll, holds it before his face and lets it unroll. He fixes his glasses, clears his throat and reads.
Hermione had expected him to read it aloud but instead he flips through it silently and lets the scroll fall to the floor. He turns to look at them with a smug smile on his face. "As you may have noted, one of each in this room is muggleborn while the other is from pureblood descent. This, I am proud to say, is no coincidence." He paces around the room with his shoulders squared and chin high as though he was the minister giving out some important speech.
"This whole event is to celebrate the peaceful, non-judgmental interaction between muggleborns and purebloods, since the defeat of well..." He gets a little flushed. "Um, Voldermort."
At his words Hermione angles her head a little high and beams around proudly. For good measure she turns to look at Malfoy and finds him staring with boredom into his glass as if Mr. Larkin wasn't talking. Unbelievable, Hermione thinks with distaste as she turns back her attention to her boss.
"...Creatures Department you have been paired up, one muggleborn with a pureblood, naturaly. And the purpose is to create a sort of piece of evidence and memory to show the new ways of the Wizarding society. To do this we will be following what I believe to be a muggle tradition; keeping a.-what was it called? Ah! Scrapbook!"
At this slight murmurs of curiosity erupt from the pureblood witches and wizards. Hermione looks back over at Malfoy to see if he has any reaction but finds him exactly as he was before. She purses her lips at him but turns back to the matter at hand with a smile.
"...find a journal and a camera in the flat you will be assigned. Everyday, when work isn't in the way you may go out and explore with your partner and take pictures. There is a list of things you can do in case you haven't got a clear idea and there has to be at least eight different moments of activities shared between the two." He stops, frowns and scratches his head. "I think that will be all, oh wait! You will be working in New York's Magical Beasts Institute by examining creatures that have not been categorized and specifically named."
Hermione had to bite her bottom lip from the glee. That institute was basically a ginormous, famous museum filled with all sorts of creature life that had been previously unknown to wizards. She had always wanted to go there. The place was absolutely brilliant and filled with so many new things.
"Well, I suppose I should say whom is paired with whom." Mr. Larkin says chuckling. He pulls out a small little red box, opens it and picks out a small piece of parchment. "Here we have; Ernest Macmillan and Gwendolyn Cooper!"
Hermione looks over at the corner where her former schoolmate beams and walks over to Gwen's side. It was nice that they had been paired up together. The two were close friends. Hermione hoped that her luck would be just as good as theirs and she wouldn't end up with someone she particularly disliked. Like Malfoy for instance.
"...and Hermione Granger!"
Hermione blinks up and finds everyone looking at her. She heard her name being called but was too distracted thinking to notice who she got called with. Feeling embarrassed and mortified she looks over at Lucy with questioning eyes. Lucy raises her brows and gives her this almost pitying look that made her stomach drop. Please not Malfoy. Please not Malfoy. Please not Malfoy.
Lucy jerks her head towards Malfoy. Hermione's bottom lip sort of drops and her shoulders hunch while a feeling of great doom and disappointment fill her. Grudgingly she walks over to where Malfoy stands, purposely not looking at her and frowning in disgust, and waits for Mr. Larkin to hand them their set of keys.
After that it just sort of becomes quiet. Everyone's talking and buzzing but Hermione just stares at her shoes glumly while silence fills her. She'd thought about protesting and even leaving but every time she tried her mouth went dry and her body remained unmoving. In the end she just gave up on doing anything and kept her head down. She was so disappointed and stuck in her headthat Malfoy had to snap his fingers in front of her face to get her to walk over to the portkey and hold on.
They appear just a way off from the busy bustling streets. As soon as they hit ground, everyone starts chatting excitedly and hurrying as fast as they can to the streets. Hermione watches in envy as pairs hurry off together looking like good friends on their first trip together.
She sighs and brings her head up to study the city. It's pretty. Just as she'd imaged. It was so full of life and color and noise. She could practically feel the vibrating energy in the air from it. But she wasn't able to enjoy it. Instead she and Malfoy exchanged a blank look that lasted a total of a few seconds and then both aparated at their flat door.
She pulls out her key and shoves it in the nob, the white door slides open and the promising look of the flat's insides can be slightly seen. Hermione steps in and stops thinking for a moment to take in the beauty of it. She'd known all along that they would have descent bedrooms but she never pictured anything like this.
It was beautfiul. And huge. Also very posh. All the furniture seemed like stuff you'd see in fancy houses owned by rich snobs or IKEA catalogers. It was all so modern but with a hint of old fashioned classyness to it. And not to mention that there was a terrace facing the city and the biggest plushest red couch she had ever seen.
"Out of the way." Malfoy says shoving past her. He walks into the room, gives it look and then sighs. To him the room was probably nothing since he lived in his really expensive manor.
Hermione could understand his bleakness with the flat but his general bad mood was getting to her. Just seeing him walk around with that condescending look of boredom made her anger curl and she couldn't help but stare at him accusingly. Sure they had been paired up together even though they shared a strong mutual dislike and sure the flat didn't reach his expectations but if he thought he was going to ruin her trip just because he was a big baby and couldn't put on a damned fake smile or at least act like he wanted to be there, then he was wrong. So very wrong.
"What are you staring at?" Malfoy snaps.
"Apparently you." Hermione snaps back.
Malfoy turns to look at her with a dark glare. "Well don't, it's making my stomach curl."
Hermione raised a brow and put her hand on her hip. The words were quite cruel and they made her feel a bit bad but she'd been bullied lots of times by Malfoy to know how to pretend like he wasn't affecting her. Instead of looking sad and offended she narrowed her eyes and took an intake of breath ready to insult him back. "Oh you litte-" But she stops herself. "You know what, I'm not even going to bother. I have things to do. I'm busy." Hermione stomps over to the living room where her suitcases were waiting and picked them up. She gave Malfoy one last glare and was on her way to her room when he called her.
"What?" She snaps, turning to look at him sharply.
Malfoy leans against the wall and smirks at her. "While you're here I want to have some things clear; I don't want you to contaminate everything by putting muggle objects all over the place, I don't want you talking to the women I invite over and I don't want you bugging me."
That was what he had to say. "You don't have to worry I'm going to keep my stuff in my room and I'm not planning on wasting time talking to you. Now, if you don't mind, actually I could care less if you do or don't, I'm off to my room." She smiles sweetly and turns away from him again.
"Good" Draco replies coldly.
Hermione walks into her room and slams the door.