Aftermath of the war

Disclaimer: I'd be very honored if you actually thought I owned Harry Potter. Feel free to assume that all things you don't recognise belongs to me though.

It was a rainy day, and evident storm clouds stretched ominously towards the horizon. Sitting at the kitchen table, Hermione stared out of the window as she sipped on a steaming cup of coffee, not really thinking about anything in particular.

Her mind drifted unconsciously to the war that had finally ended Voldemort's life, or more commonly referred to as the Final Battle. It had already been over for nearly 2 years and Hermione was now nearly twenty years old. The war had started just after her NEWTS, and Hermione was almost thankful to the Death Eaters for only launching the attack then. Note the word: almost. Hermione could never feel anything other than hatred for those bastards who were so full of prejudice and killed for the "sheer pleasure of it".

The light side had won as predicted, but not without heavy consequences. The deceased on their side included Neville Longbottom, Charlie and Bill Weasley, Luna Lovegood and so many more. So many that the list seemed never ending. There had even been a few Slytherins, surprisingly. Hermione's heart clenched unbearably every time she thought of Pansy Parkinson, who had protected her during the war.

She remembered vividly the courage Pansy had demonstrated (Slytherins were never known to be very brave) when she leapt in front of her and straight into the path of a jet of green light. The killing curse. Hermione truly regretted her assumptions all these years that all Slytherins were nothing but scum. Pansy had proven that she was just as worthy of her respect as any other being. She was even nobler than some Gryffindors Hermione knew! She was sure that Pansy would be content to know that her sacrifice had not been for naught. Hermione had also taken it upon herself to make sure that she got a decent burial as both of Pansy's parents had disowned her for choosing to fight against them during the battle.

Dumbledore had unfortunately died from over exertion while performing a highly intricate and complicated spell to ward off the attacks of death eaters on Hogwarts at the beginning of the war. The spell had only worked until Voldemort decided to make an appearance. With Dumbledore dead, it was easy to penetrate Hogwarts' defenses. The fact that Voldemort was a powerful wizard did not help either. He was only barely defeated when the Golden Trio combined their powers against him in their duel.

Harry. A tear escaped Hermione's eyes when she thought of him. He was currently lying in St Mungo's, paralyzed. Voldemort had managed to put a curse on him before he died, although no one knew when and how he had managed it. The curse worked in such a way that if he died, Harry would go with him, only more slowly and painfully—by a series of continuous Cruciatus Curses. Luckily, Mad-eye Moody had detected something before the curse was activated, but no one was able to completely stop it in time, thus resulting in Harry being fully paralyzed and in a constantly unstable condition. Hermione supposed this was better than him dying but his state pained her nevertheless.

Finally, there was Ron. He in a better situation than Harry, but not by much. The death eaters had blasted both of his legs off and he had acquired quite a lot of scars all over his body. Too ashamed to face the world, he rarely comes out of the Grimauld's place. Hell, he did not even answer her letters with more than two sentences anymore. Hermione suspected that he was heading towards depression and had voiced her worries to him during one of their meetings at the Three Broomsticks. Ron had not offered her any response but instead said that he was tired and needed to rest. The next moment, he was gone.

Even though Hermione was still worried, she did not raise the subject again. She knew that that would only result in Ron avoiding her, at least for now. Hermione did not need to go through the risk of losing one more friend. Harry was enough for her to cope with.

The rest of the Weasleys were as miserable as Ron, if not more so. Mrs. Weasley was the worst of the lot. She grieved nearly daily for her elder sons. She was going though therapy with her psychiatrist regularly and her condition had improved by leaps and bounds. She was now able to hear Charlie's and Bill's names being mentioned without breaking down, which is saying a lot.

Needless to say, Hermione thought that she had suffered the least among all her friends—her parents had been killed during a Death Eaters' raid. And she hated herself for not being able to share their problems. Her friends (namely Ginny, Ginny and Ginny) told her that she was being ridiculous, that she had done all that she could to help, that maybe she had too much free time and needed some distraction from whatever nonsense she was feeding her mind…

Hermione was indignant that Ginny thought that of her. She was the ex-head girl and possibly the brightest witch in the century for a reason. She did not do ridiculous; feed her brain nonsense or any of the other things Ginny had accused her of. But deep down inside, a part of herself, a small part but nevertheless a part of her, told her that they were right.

She had done all that she could for her friends. But Hermione had high expectations of herself in every aspect of her life, and that included friends. No matter how much she did to help, it never seemed enough to her. She grew more and more reproachful of herself by the day but had refused to believe her friends when they told her that she was falling into the crutches of depression, just like Ron.

Moving over to the sink, Hermione deposited her now empty coffee cup into it. She was going to wash the cup later. Right now, she had something else to do. Over the past hour, she had come to a decision. Hermione did not know then, but it would be the turning point in her life. She would get a job. She would prove to everyone that she was perfectly fine, including herself, she added much to her reluctance. She would be a professor… at Hogwarts.

It had been three weeks since Hermione sent out her job application. She had applied to be a DADA professor, since she heard that the position was still empty. Hermione was starting to think that maybe Hogwarts had already found someone more suitable than her to fill in the spot.

This morning, Hermione was indulging in her usual combination of breakfast (a glass of fresh milk and toast) when a familiar owl swooped through the window and landed somewhat clumsily on the kitchen table. Muttering a quick prayer, Hermione reached over and retrieved the piece of parchment tied to one of the owl. A huge smile stretched across her face as Hermione scanned through its contents.

Dear Ms. Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to be the new DADA professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Term begins on 1 September.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

Giving a whoop of joy, Hermione proceeded to do a little jig around the kitchen. She froze as her brain calmed long enough to process the sound of a cough. With her face flushing scarlet, Hermione spun around to see who the intruder of such a private moment was.

"Ginny!" Hermione squealed as she launched herself at the grinning redhead.

The younger female member of the Weasley family had been the fastest to recover from the war. She had taken over up the role her mother since the latter was in no condition to manage the household. She was also the Hermione's best girlfriend and the one who was always there to reassure her about Harry and Ron.

"Hey 'mione! What's going on? Why're you so happy?" Ginny started firing the questions as Hermione's mind lost control again.

"Gin! You won't believe this! Hogwarts...letter...professor! I'm so happy!" Hermione managed to choke out while laughing merrily.

By now, Ginny was utterly confused by Hermione. So she did the only thing a redhead is to do when her friend is going half mad (at least it seemed like that to her). She raised her wand and muttered, "Incarcerous!"

Instantly, ropes appeared and proceeded to wrap themselves tightly around a stunned Hermione. Ginny pulled out a chair and pushed her into it gently before settling down into another chair, completely ignoring her protests. After making herself comfortable, she finally faced a still stuttering Hermione and shook her by the shoulders, hard. When Ginny was satisfied with the results, she removed the ropes ("Finite Incantatem!") and spoke again, "Hermione, I'm very sorry I had to do this. But you were too excited to say anything coherently. Please forgive me. Now that you've calmed down, tell me what had happened."

Hermione pouted and massaged her sore limbs. "It's really simple actually. I sent a job application for the DADA professor to Hogwarts and they accepted."

Ginny sprang from her seat to hug Hermione, not unlike the way she did it just now.

"Oh 'mione! I'm so glad you've pulled yourself together! I'm sure you'll do great…"

Hermione's mind strayed from that point. Would she get along well with the students and teachers? Would she teach well? But most importantly, did she belong at Hogwarts?

Author's note: My first fic: Was it too short? What was I lacking in? Details? Or too much? Do tell:))

PLEASE R&R!

Till next time.