Author's Note: Hey guys, this is my first fanfic, so please be nice. The story takes into account everything that happened in books 1-7 (Epilogue? What epilogue?) as well as information JKR has added via Pottermore.
.
.
"For the last time, Mudgett, there is no law that prevents a witch from privately practicing experimental botany. Please stop cluttering up my inbox with howlers about the doings on the Lovegood compound…"
"But sir, she's a' it again! Explosions an' odd noises a' any hour o' the day or night… and when I went o'er to ask 'er to keep the noise down while me children were sleepin', one of 'er bleedin' rosebushes took a bite out o' me arse…! Ruined my best trousers, it did!"
"Mudgett, while the damage done to your backside is, I'm sure, regrettable… the fact remains that Miss Lovegood has broken no wizarding law…"
Hermione chuckled into her stack of paperwork. This was the fourth time in a month Archibald Mudgett had been to see her boss at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement regarding odd things happening at Luna Lovegood's house. Hermione supposed some things never really changed, after all…
But many things had changed since the Battle of Hogwarts, three years ago...
Hermione had returned to Hogwarts, joining Ginny's year to finish her schooling, while Harry and Ron had gone straight into the Auror office at the Ministry. Hermione had been offered a job there as well, but she turned it down. She felt she'd merely done her duty as Harry's friend in helping to overthrow Voldemort; being an Auror was not the path for her.
Hogwarts had not been the same by any means. Parts of it had still been in ruins, while other sections were only half-rebuilt. Still, life went on. Ginny's friendship had been indispensible that year, in the absence of Harry and Ron.
Most importantly, going back to Hogwarts had given Hermione time to decide what she wanted to do with her life. She, Ginny, and Hagrid had gone exploring together into the Forbidden Forest once or twice, and the plight of the centaurs there - as well as that of the giants, of which Hagrid spoke to her often - confirmed Hermione's desire to dedicate her life in giving hope to those with less power, without legal voices.
Well, she would try anyway.
Harry had done very well for himself following the overthrow of Voldemort. He was no longer just the Boy Who Lived, but the beloved, young savior of the wizarding world. Twice. He'd quickly gotten engaged to Ginny, who then had a spot on the reserve team for the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team as a Chaser.
Harry and Ginny seemed to be a couple that fortune smiled upon. Ginny became a main player on the team within a year (a teammate left on maternity leave and never came back) and Harry moved swiftly through the ranks at the Auror office, continuing to prosper and make a name for himself.
Ron, on the other hand…
Hermione loved Ron. Really, she'd had a crush on him since their fourth year at Hogwarts, until they finally started dating three and a half years later. But Ron had no ambition. He was content to stay as he was, content with his relationship with Hermione as it was. They argued often, but the make-up sex was pretty good and always seemed to atone.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement wasn't exactly where Hermione had expected to end up, but a year and a half of hard work had paid off and she'd recently been promoted. She now shared a more spacious office with another young woman a few years her senior, Toula. The two of them worked directly for the Head of the department, preparing cases and drafting legal propositions. It wasn't always rewarding, but Hermione felt she was doing some good, if often only in small ways.
Toula was Greek… very Greek. She came from a large family and had moved to England after being fed up with her mother trying to marry her off to every eligible young man that walked through the door. Her dark hair was piled in massive curls on her head, giving the impression that if she moved too quickly, something tumultuous might happen. She was somewhat thickset and very buxom. She had a pair of horn-rimmed glasses she wore when at work, but removed when she thought someone might be looking. Hermione admired her work ethic and the two had become good companions over the last few months. Hermione had never really been friends with another girl before, except Ginny.
Hermione's eyes moved to the wedding invitation that sat on her desk, arrived just that day by owl. In four months, Ginny and Harry were finally getting married!
"…For the last time, Mudgett, if and when you have a legitimate issue for me to explore, you may owl me. Until then, I might suggest picking up a book on Silencing Charms and protective enchantments."
The rejected Mudgett shuffled from the office looking scandalized. Hermione buried herself in her work, pretending not to notice him. She smiled to herself as he entered the lift at the end of the floor, muttering darkly under his breath.
A glance at the clock told her the end of the day was near, so she began putting her desk in order to prepare for an inter-department meeting the following day.
"Granger, are the papers for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in order for tomorrow?"
Hermione looked up to observe her boss standing in the doorway of the office she shared with Toula. Livius Trimble was a decent man to work for: he expected work to be done efficiently and with a certain level of excellence, but he was fair and Hermione knew he liked having her there.
"Right here, sir," she responded, handing him a neat stack of parchment.
"Excellent, thank you, I'll be wanting to look these over before tomorrow." He took the stack, neatly arranged with bullet points and figures and cast it an admiring look at the work. "There will also be about a quarter of an hour for you to present your case on reserve lands for the centaurs to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the Department of Magical Secrecy."
Hermione beamed. It was a subject she'd been putting together a case for, for months – almost as soon as she'd been promoted. "Thank you, sir."
"Papadopoulos, do you have your case for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes in order?"
"The Muggle Liason Office won't know what hit them, sir," Toula responded confidently.
"Excellent, excellent," Trimble murmured. "I'll see both of you ladies tomorrow." He disappeared from the doorway to check on the progress of rest of the staff.
"See you tomorrow, Hermione," Toula said jovially, shouldering her bag to leave. "Don't stay too late."
.
.
Hermione practiced her centaur argument at least seven times in full that evening, pacing the floor in her pajamas and gesticulating to the full-length mirror in her bedroom, just to see how she looked while doing it. She had a flat on her own in Chipping Norton, two floors above her parents' dentist office. Their memories having been restored, Hermione felt protective of them and lived close-by. The feeling that she might never see them again had never really gone away and she visited often. They lived on the other side of town.
The flat was in a nice part of town, was hooked up to the Floo Network for her convenience, and though small, was plenty big enough for her and Crookshanks.
She glanced out the window, where a normally spectacular view of the valley was tonight obscured by fog. Crookshanks, who was finally beginning to show his age, lay curled on a cushion covered in orange hair, irrespective of the vagueness beyond the glass.
Hermione nursed a hot mug of tea, absentmindedly stroking Crookshanks, her mind wandering to and from the meeting tomorrow: her first real chance to prove herself as a Ministry witch. She went to bed early, but remained awake for at least an hour, poring over her thoughts again and again.
.
.
The following morning, Hermione awoke to a familiar owl perched on the back of her kitchen chair.
"Good morning, Pig," she laughed as the tiny owl, noticing she was awake, began hooting excitedly and zooming around her head. "What have you got for me?"
Pigwidgeon stuck out his leg and Hermione took the small scroll, reading:
Good Luck Today.
Love, Ron
In good spirits, Hermione spent more than the usual amount of time on her morning toilette. It was sweet of Ron to wish her luck; he knew how important this meeting was to her. He really had been trying very hard lately…
.
.
"Now don't get too worked up about this meeting," Toula warned the moment Hermione walked into their office. "It's mostly a bunch of rich and influential people who sit on director's boards talking for a long time without letting the people who actually do the work get a word in edgewise."
Hermione laughed nervously.
Toula was correct. The meeting took most of the day, with representatives from different departments coming in and out. It was tedious work; Hermione wished she'd had a larger breakfast.
Finally, after a break for lunch, Trimble hinted to Hermione she was up next, as the representatives from both department boards hearing her argument had arrived. As they rejoined the group in the meeting room, Hermione scanned the panel of representatives, her eyes lingering on an older witch with gray hair and dark skin sitting in the seat for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
She searched the room for the nameplate for the Department of Magical Secrecy – a chair that had been empty all morning – only to find the last person she wished to see sitting behind the small, bronze nameplate.
It was Draco Malfoy.
Hermione sucked in her breath and felt her stomach drop. She wished she were anywhere else.
Propose something like the reservation of centaur lands to someone like Draco Malfoy? She might as well argue with a boulder, for all the good it would probably do!
She glanced at him again. He sat easily, almost saucily, in the department chair, gray eyes surveying the room with an almost bored expression. The pale, pointed face, the slicked-back platinum hair, were the same that Hermione remembered. He did perhaps look a touch older, a little less smug and defiant.
His eyes came to rest on Hermione and for a moment, they locked gazes. Hermione's eyes narrowed, determined not to be the first to look away. The last time she had seen this boy was at the Battle of Hogwarts, fleeing with his parents from the fracas. As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Malfoy attempted his best bored expression and began a conversation with the man to his right, who chortled at something he'd said.
"Granger, you're up," Trimble said suddenly.
The argument began shakily; Hermione was still affected by the sight of Draco Malfoy as the representative for the Department of Magical Secrecy. She spoke almost entirely to the woman from the Magical Creatures department, only looking at Malfoy when necessary.
"…And so I admonish you to look over the proposal you see before you, indicating the lands that would rightly belong to the centaurs. They would have full rights over the laws to be practiced there and the right to determine who is welcome onto their lands. There would be three parcels of land in the U.K. and one in Ireland. These land parcels are small and undeveloped, so with very little effort, we could place anti-Muggle wards and other enchantments on their lands and allow them to live with the freedom they deserve...
"The rest is in your hands."
Hermione smoothed her conservative skirt nervously, glad to be done with her speech, and sat.
"What does the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures say?" asked the moderator.
The older woman cleared her throat and spoke carefully, "Many times we have attempted liaison with the centaurs and as years wended on, they became less and less inclined to parley with us. What makes you think they will agree to your condition that they don't leave the lands appropriated to them?"
"I believe they only want the terms to be apparent," Hermione answered in a clear, strong voice, now feeling more confident from her seat. "They want to understand what we offer and to see it laid out as a law that we will abide by. They have been tricked in the past, and not treated as they should be. This proposal will give them certain freedoms they are currently denied. We should at least negotiate."
The older woman inclined her head and offered to think about the matter, but gave no definitive answer. She didn't look like it was a proposition she deigned to take seriously.
"What does the representative from the Department of Magical Secrecy say?"
Hermione's jaw clenched. She was sure Draco Malfoy would have a great deal to say.
To her great surprise, the voice that answered the moderator – while very clearly belonging to the same person who tormented her for most of her school career – was no longer filled with an abundance of ego and disdain. He merely stated, "Well argued. Approved, pending investigation into the logistics of the matter."
"Note that," the moderator ordered the scribe. "The next argument will be heard from..."
Shocked, Hermione was absolutely still in her seat. Did what she think just happened… really just happen?