The Harry Potter universe and its characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. By using them below, I am in no way claiming them as my own.


Hermione paced outside the meeting room, nervous. This is going to be my big break, she reassured herself, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She'd spent eight years working for the Daily Prophet - from an internship to junior editor in five years, she'd excelled at her craft and proven her worth. She was certain that her boss, Kingsley Shacklebolt, would recognise this and select her as his replacement.

Her colleagues slowly began to trickle in from adjacent offices and corridors and she forced herself to look composed. Kingsley was the last to arrive, swooshing down the corridor in his favourite navy and gold robes. He extracted the key from a pocket and the click of it in the lock made her pulse race. This will be the day my life changes. Perhaps, finally, things might work out for her.

When Hermione had been at school, she had dreamt of becoming an auror. Her fantasies always portrayed herself as the hero, saving the innocent from some unknown evil. Pah. That girl hadn't known evil. She hadn't seen it up close, hadn't smelt the scent of death on her friends, hadn't understood the casualties of war. So many young lives just snuffed out. Gone. Forever.

The Battle of Hogwarts had hardened many of its survivors. Harry and Ginny were a testament to that, supporting one another through the trauma and remaining a couple. Hermione hadn't been so lucky; the fall-out from the Battle had destroyed her relationship with Ron. He had tried to move on from the death of his brother, but how could he, when Hermione would relive their friends' deaths every night? Ron wanted to forget that anything had happened and he couldn't do it with her. The last Hermione had heard, he was living in Fiji with a tall, platinum-haired Danish man. It had come as a surprise to most, but with hindsight, it wasn't so surprising to Hermione.

Still, the internship at the paper had been a sort of panacea for Hermione's soul. It had given her purpose again, letting her regress back to a time of near-innocence, when she'd been the head editor on the Hogwarts student newspaper, the Wizarding Student Times. With the Daily Prophet as a constant in her life, she'd managed to subdue most of her trauma from the Battle. She'd reached some semblance of normality.

Hermione followed her colleagues into the meeting room and took her usual seat near the head of the table. The room itself was fairly standard and wouldn't have been out of place in a muggle office, were it not for the QuickQuotes Quill which floated in one corner, taking minutes. Ben Sharp, an auburn-haired wizard who Hermione had often worked closely with, leant forward in his chair to reassure her. 'I think a congratulations are in order,' he whispered. She bit her lip, trying to remain modest.

'Nothing's for sure,' she whispered back.

Kingsley held up his hands to silence any lingering conversation. He beamed at them all.

'I know you're all aware of the new position opening up, and I'm sure are looking forward to stabbing me in the back for your inheritance,' he said, joking. 'We will be filling the position internally.' Sandra from Accounting glanced across the table and shot Hermione a knowing look. She found herself smiling in return, despite her wish not to jinx the promotion. 'I want all of you to do your best work on the anniversary edition. If you stand out, I'll consider you.' Hermione's face fell. She had been certain that it would automatically go to her.

'Now, our special edition. I'm sure you're all aware that we're fast approaching the tenth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts,' he continued, rubbing his hands together. Hermione felt the horror bubbling up inside her, the barriers she'd put in place to suppress her past being breached so effortlessly. She tried her best to ignore the memories which threatened to come flooding back.

'... which is why I'm handing that task to you, Hermione.' She started at hearing her name. Kingsley was completely oblivious to her inner turmoil. 'You should be able to provide true insight to the impact,' he continued, 'and I'm sure will relish the challenge of writing from the other side.' He turned his gaze to Ben. 'You can focus on the supposed victors of the battle, Sharp. I want you to try and get some quotes from Harry, if you can.' He then turned his eyes onto a witch further away, with pink hair. 'Melinda, you'll have the muggle angle. Make sure you play up their ignorance of true events.'

Kingsley continued to speak, doling out smaller articles to her remaining colleagues. She hadn't understood what she'd been assigned... but she knew she didn't want it. She didn't want to go back there.

After the meeting had been called to a close, Hermione lingered behind. 'Kinglsey,' she asked nervously, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. 'I don't quite understand why you've given me this.' He began packing his notes into a leather satchel.

'It would be quite difficult for anyone else to get away with the story. Who could ever have any sympathy for the ex-death eaters?' She recoiled internally, suddenly realising what he expected her to do. 'If you write it,' he turned to face her. 'People might actually listen. I want people to see how their families have had to adjust, the people they lost.'

He wanted her to revisit her past by talking to the people who tried to kill her. How could she look evil in the eyes and report its words? How could he ask me to do this? Kingsley smiled at her, ready to quash any protests.

'I know you're more than equal to the task, Hermione. You need to have some faith in yourself.'

'But...'

'Don't you think it would be a wonderful way to stand out to head office, and maybe be promoted to head editor on the paper?'

So that's it. It's this or my job.

'It would be a brilliant way to stick your foot in the door, humanising people that the public love to hate.' He picked up his bag. 'I've already had one of the runners send out enquiries. It's slim pickings,' he shrugged, 'but one person was particularly interested in being interviewed. Their letter is on your desk.' Kingsley left her.

She walked back to her office in a daze, feeling emotionally numb. What choice did she have? If she didn't take this opportunity her career would falter. She'd probably lose her position as junior editor within the year, in the guise of promoting fresh talent. Everything she'd worked for.

Just as Kingsley had said, a cream envelope was waiting for her on her desk. Hermione sat down, her hands shaking. She picked up a silver letter opener and then reached for the thick card, turning it over in her hands to expose the wax seal.

The letter opener dropped to the floor with a clang.

Return Address: D. Malfoy, Malfoy Manor


Author's Note: This is technically the third in a trilogy, although if you haven't read the two previous stories, you'll probably be fine. If you want to catch up, check out Hermione Granger and the Surprise Editor, and Hermione Granger and the Yule Review. To those of you who've been following, this story might take a little while to get going as there's a lot of backstory to chuck in, but hopefully you'll enjoy it.