Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros Studios. All original characters and plot are my own, I gain nothing financially from this work.
Hermione Granger was having one of those rare, truly wonderful days. Her department had yet to assign her a new partner, so her entire workload had been tackled with her usual efficiency, and she hadn't had to stay late once all week waiting for someone else to complete their paperwork. Her "men are scum" ice cream fest with Ginny and Pansy had been a rousing success, and she was feeling much better about the entire Anthony ordeal. Speaking of Anthony, he'd had to take over the Louvre fiasco solo because Blaise was his parolee, and having Hermione on the case now that they were no longer partners was considered a conflict of interest. Hermione snickered to herself as she punched the lift button for the Ministry lobby, feeling smug that Anthony was inconvenienced at his own doing for once in his rotten life.
Oh well, she mentally shrugged as she walked to the apparition point. She was meeting Ron at the Three Broomsticks and was already late – even by Ron's standards. As she bustled down the street Hermione couldn't help but be taken in by the gorgeous October day. It was cool, but not cold and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Add in some chirping birds and you've got a bleeding sonnet, Granger. Please kill me. Hermione wasn't entirely sure when her inner monologue had started to sound like Malfoy, but it did. If she had to guess, it was probably sometime during their third year at Hogwarts when their academic rivalry had been at an all-time high. She barely noticed anymore and couldn't say that she minded, really. His sniveling drawl kept her motivated to always best his smarmy third year self, even though it was all in her head and they had been friends since long before he and Harry had moved in together.
Before she was even through the door of the Three Broomsticks, a booming "There's my girl!" spread through the bar and Hermione was swept up into the biggest bear hug she had ever received.
"Ronald, honestly, put me down this instant!" she squawked, but her good day combined with seeing Rom for the first time in nearly a year made it difficult to hide her grin. She loved both of her best friends the same, but Harry would always be more brother than friend to Hermione, and she would always have a soft spot for Ronald Weasley. Their romance had been short-lived, but better than she thought she'd ever deserved. They'd separated as friends, both too wrapped up in their careers, with the agreement that if they were both still single at 40, they'd try again.
"Well that's quite the Hermione Granger smile if ever I saw one, is that all for me or is there something else I need to know about?" Ron said with a cheeky grin as he set her on her feet. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her until just now.
"Just a good day," Hermione said with a small smile and shrug, "maybe a little bit you."
Ron chuckled and pulled her along behind him to the table he'd just gotten, though he'd never admit to Hermione that he was just as late as she was. As much as he'd missed her, he could wait for a lecture, and how often was Hermione Granger later than a Weasely?
"So how's it been here? Other than dreadfully boring with me being gone, that is." Ron inquired as Madame Rosmerta set down their butterbeers and food.
"It's been quite exciting, what with being the best friend of not only the Harry Potter but also the Cannon's newest star keeper. Witch Weekly owls daily for interviews, I hardly have any time for myself." She said with a wink and a playful toss of a chip in his direction. "Honestly, it's been alright. Shockingly better now that Anthony's out of the picture." she said warily, holding her breath for the outburst that never came. Ron and Anthony had gotten on well, and Hermione was shocked that Ron didn't have a single opinion on her decision to leave him.
"Yeah, I heard about that. What with him being Lavender's latest victim and all. Wanker."
Hermione openly gaped at her best friend, not trying to hide it even a little bit.
"What?" he said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes, "I'm in touch with my emotions!"
Hermione chuckled as she picked at her fish. It's good to know that some things never change.
All too soon for either of their liking, two hours had passed and Hermione had to go meet with her parolee.
"So I'll see you Sunday at your place for brunch," Ron said kissing her cheek, "and dinner at the Burrow Monday before I head back to Brazil."
Hermione nodded and got to her feet, instantly regretting the several butterbeers she'd polished off. One didn't pack much of a punch, but seven combined with her petite frame were enough to make her slightly unsteady in her heels.
Unwilling to let anything spoil her good mood, she slipped out of her pumps and made the decision to walk to half mile to Patricia Goyle's flat. Being in the first class of MLE officers trained after the war, Hermione had been assigned two "to watch" parolees. The 'watchlist' as it came to be known, consisted of Death Eaters, like Draco, who were deemed too young at their time of service to need to atone for their crimes, and family members and close friends of convicted Death Eaters, like Blaise and Patricia. Hermione had been incredibly lucky when it came to her parolee assignment. She had been given Patricia Goyle and Marjorie Flint – the twin sister of Marcus Flint. Both women had gone to Beauxbatons during the war, and had little to no contact with their estranged fathers and brothers. They were, however, both high priority cases because unlike Malfoy and Gregory Goyle junior, Goyle senior and Marcus had both maimed, tortured, raped, and murdered muggles and muggle born witches in Voldemort's name quite publicly, and could not, would not, be pardoned. Hermione rather enjoyed both women, and her weekly check-ins came to be more like social calls than MLE sanctioned business.
Rounding the corner to Patricia's building, Hermione slipped her heels back on, and sent her patronus to the third floor for Patricia to let her into the building. Hearing the telltale buzz of the door, she made her way up the stairs. Coming upon the second floor landing, Hermione saw Patricia running back and forth between her own flat and the one across the hall.
"Hi Hermione!" Patricia panted, not stopping to greet her, "Sorry about this – slight pixie problem!"
Just as Patricia shut the door to her own apartment, a pixie came hurdling directly towards Hermione.
Thinking quickly to her second year, Hermione whipped out her wand and cast and immobolis charm. This pixie froze midair, but Hermione had overcompensated in pulling out her wand and began to lose her balance. The combination of her pumps and unstable reaction time found her falling, quite ungracefully, down the stairs. She was awake long enough to hear Patricia scream "Merlin!" from the third floor before everything went black.
"Well now, there she is." Hermione awoke to the face of a smiling Mediwitch, in what she assumed could only be the emergency care ward at St. Mungo's. "Alright, deary" the matronly woman, who reminded Hermione strongly of Molly Weasley said, "I'll just step out so you can put these robes on while I fetch the – ah Healer Nott! I was just stepping out to fetch you, and to give Ms. Granger a moment of privacy to change."
At his name, Hermione froze, suddenly filled with dread. Maybe he has a cousin. But it was his next comment which made Hermione absolutely sure she was dealing with her Nott and not any other.
"That will be quite unnecessary, Viola, as this is not the first time I've seen Ms. Granger naked. I'm sure she'd like to get this over with as soon as possible, as would I."
The last thing Hermione registered was his smirking face before the world went black once more.