I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with JKR's universe.
Hello everyone! Just a quick note before you start.
I had a rather rude review for the first chapter, where someone commented, "No one is in character here. Have you actually read the books?"
Unfortunately, the person who left that comment was a Guest user so I wasn't able to reply to find out what their specific complaint was. On the off chance that they're going to read chapter 2, I'll just reply here:
Dear Guest User,
Yes, I have read the books. And if you want to read a story where everyone behaves perfectly according to canon, then I suggest you exit this website and go read the books instead.
Despite your rude comment, I still appreciate the time you took to read this and leave me your feedback- although you would have communicated your point better if you had explained why you thought certain characters were acting out of canon, because I thought I did a decent job with characterization.
All the best-
-M-
To everyone else who took the time to read and review- thank you so much for your kind words and suggestions! I wrote chapter 2 super quickly because of your enthusiasm!
The whole situation with Cormac started about a year after Hermione had transferred to the Department of Mysteries. By that point, she'd moved into her own flat and Ron was dating someone new (his old Hogwarts sweetheart, Lavender Brown). And everyone, from the Weasley family to the receptionist at the ministry had an opinion on who Hermione could move on with.
The receptionist suggested Viktor Krum with a dazed smile on her face.
"Oh, come on Ms Granger. Even you couldn't say no to him," Marge gushed, as if she was personally acquainted with the retired Quidditch player. "And I hear he was rather brilliant in school. Even came second in the Triwizard Tournament!"
Hermione smiled thinly. Technically, he'd come third- but no one seemed to remember Cedric these days.
It was only when Hermione saw a copy of The Daily Prophet on Marge's desk that she understood why Viktor, who by that point was ancient history, was even an option. She's been more than a little surprised to hear his name from Marge's lips- especially because Marge prided herself on always knowing the latest gossip.
Rita Skeeter had outdone herself this time. An article, lovingly titled, "Hero or Heartbreaker? Meet the Men in Hermione Granger's Life!" Captioned: 'now with never-before-seen photographs by Bozo Farrell'.
It was an in-depth review of the many, many men whose hearts Hermione had torn to shreds- starting with Harry Potter, at the ripe age of 11, spanning through Viktor Krum, Ron Weasley and any other man she had ever dared to look at. All falsified, of course. But, never the less, a captivating read.
Marge noticed Hermione's gaze on the damning article and excitedly began speaking at an alarming rate as she searched in desk for a scrap of parchment.
"I simple cannot wait to show this article to Eileen!" Her voice cut though Hermione's fantasy of smacking Bozo across the head with his camera.
Eileen, the receptionist at the DMLE was notorious for trying to set people up on dates. (For the record, every single date had been an utter disaster- but that didn't stop her from trying again). Hermione didn't need or want anyone setting her up- now or at any point in the future.
In a mild panic, Hermione desperately glanced at the disposable cup of coffee in her hand and sighed in defeat. The coffee would have to die for Hermione's sanity to live.
As Marge turned to write a quick note to the match-making receptionist, Hermione dropped her coffee- very strategically- on the paper. It teetered for a half-a-second on Rita Skeeter's photograph then tumbled over, drenching, and thankfully destroying, the entire front page.
"Oh dear," Hermione slapped a palm over her lips, "Oh, Marge. I'm so sorry. I've just been so distracted lately. Let me clean this up for you."
Hermione grabbed a wad of tissues from the box on Marge's desk and began dabbing at the mess, slyly shoving the Prophet into the trash bin along with the soaked tissues.
"I understand, Ms Granger," the receptionist tsked comfortingly as she patted Hermione's hand. "It's alright. You go on now, I'll clean this up."
Hermione read the unsaid words in her eyes, Poor dear. You must be having such a hard time of it- especially since your ex-fiancé has already moved on.
"You're an angel, Marge- I'll try to pick you up another copy when I can," Which, unfortunately, I'll never get a chance, Hermione added in her head as she walked toward the lift to the Department of Mysteries.
By the time the doors opened with a quiet ding on Level 9, Hermione was already regretting her decision to sacrifice the coffee. The dim, blueish lights in the atrium made the pain behind her eyes grow to a steady throb.
And by the time she was faced with chaos in the brain room, she was regretting even coming to work that day.
In the middle of the brain room, a battle raged- Man versus Brain. Unfortunately the brain seemed to be winning.
"Granger! We're calling in curse-breakers. Today." her partner, Zebulon Winters, shouted as he wrestled the brain's tentacles away from a rather ominous looking trunk while trying to prevent the one around his neck from strangling him.
Hermione reacted instinctually and shot out a burst of sparks, scorching the tentacles until they coiled back, wrapping around the brain in self-defense. Lying there, on the floor- the brain looked rather pathetic- pale, pearly white and shuddering, as if it was cold. But as Hermione watched it with a suspicious gaze, the tentacles began unwinding and flexing in the air, likely getting ready to throttle the next person who approached it. The rest of the brains floating in the tank also seemed unsettled- but there was no way of knowing if they were getting ready to attack as well.
"Fine. But can we get something to cover the brain tank first?" Hermione asked as she helped Winters off the floor, wincing when she saw tiny red marks around his neck and mouth, imprints from the tentacle's suckers.
"I think I almost had this damn thing open when the brain wrapped it's tentacles around my neck." He kicked the trunk in irritation as he massaged his throat. "Help me get it the hell out of this room."
"I will. Just relax for a minute," She pushed him into a chair, then levitated the brain back into it's tank, making sure to stay out of range of it's tentacles.
It plopped into the cloudy green liquid with a sickly splash, sending a shudder down Hermione's spine. She'd been uneasy about the disembodied brains ever since fifth year, when one of them had nearly killed Ron.
Hermione took a quick look around the rest of the room, narrowing her eyes at the new piles of boxes, stacked floor-to-ceiling against every wall. The boxes were undoubtedly filled with all manner of sinister cursed objects- ancient and very new. It seemed that people were always looking for a way to make dark magic even darker. The ministry had been seizing anything resembling dark magic from the homes of rumored dark magic practitioners. There was rarely ever legal cause to raid the homes of those wizards, but since the War, everyone had turned a blind eye to the injustices. As a result, heaps of cursed relics arrived in the Ministry of Magic every day.
The Department of Mysteries had the first crack at the artifacts- even before the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (although the current head of the DMLE had been tirelessly working to change that). And as the chamber closest to the lift in the Department of Mysteries, the Brain Room had become an oversized, and potentially fatal, storage closet. After a few unfortunate accidents, the unspeakables who worked in the other Rooms had gotten in the habit of standing in the doorway to levitate piles of boxes into the Brain Room- far from the brain tank. There were only two unspeakables from the Time Room who were still brave enough to take a few steps into the room.
Good for Hermione and the rest of the unspeakables of the Brain Room because it meant they never had to wait to study a particular object, and they never had to go looking for anything because everything was stored in their wing.
Bad, because incidents like the one that morning seemed to occur more frequently when the boxes piled up. Hermione's theory was that the brains were reacting to dark magic in the artifacts and behaving accordingly- so by that logic, more boxes meant more dark magic which meant more erratic behavior. It had gotten to the point where they were unable to study the artifacts because of the brains' menacing reactions.
"Alright, come on," Hermione glanced into the brain-tank, and satisfied that the brains seemed somewhat quelled for the moment, turned back to Zebulon. "Let's get this trunk out of here- then I'll contact some curse-breaking agencies."
To: Kronos Curse-Breakers, Inc.
I am writing to set up a consultation for your services regarding cursed-artifacta. I cannot enclose any further details about the project in a letter.
Please reply at your earliest convenience.
Best,
Hermione J. Granger
Dept. of Mysteries
Ministry of Magic
To: Ms Granger,
Thank you for considering Kronos Curse-Breakers, Inc for your project.
Our senior-most curse-breaker will meet you at the Ministry at 2 PM today, if you are available.
Regards,
Bastian Kronos
CEO
Kronos Curse Breakers, Inc.
To: Mr. Kronos.
That is fine. Thank you for your prompt response.
Best.
Hermione J. Granger
Dept. of Mysteries
Ministry of Magic
Thank you all for taking the time to read this chapter and the long Author's Note at the top! I always appreciate any reviews, even when they're rude/unhelpful because it tells me that I've done something correct to incite such a positive or negative reaction that they took the effort to write to me.
There will be a few more chapters- hopefully they'll be out within the next week!
Please let me know what you think!
I. Any guesses as to who the Curse breaker will be?
II. Give me your feedback so I can figure out what to do with next!
III. As always, please review, leave me your thoughts, send me your ideas, or just message me to say hi!
-M-