When Hermione opened her eyes, she found herself in the same very spot that she had apparated from earlier. Her stomach was doing summer-saults and when she looked straight ahead, she saw the shocked face of Mrs. Malfoy staring at her. Not wanting to explain where she had just gone, she sat down in her chair and released a heavy breath.

"Hermione..."

Never in her life had she heard such a vulnerable voice call out her name. The way it was spoken, Hermione knew Mrs. Malfoy would have a million questions. She wanted to answer none of them.

"Ms. Granger, please. I had no idea you felt this way."

Hermione scoffed. "And why would you? You don't know me. At all," she said. "These days, no one does," she murmured softly. "Forget what I said, I didn't mean it."

"I think you did and it worries me greatly."

"There's no need. What I said, I said in anger. I'm over it now."

Mrs. Malfoy frowned. "You apparated away for a mere ten seconds and you're over it? How does that work?"

This time it was Hermione's turn to frown. "Ten seconds?"

"I wasn't exactly counting, but yes, it couldn't have been much more."

Strange. And it was. As far as she was aware she had been gone for at least an hour. Was there some sort of time lock on the Hall of Prophecy? As intriguing as it was, she hated the fact that she always left the Hall with more unanswered questions than she entered with. For someone who craved knowledge as much as she did, it was quite disheartening to only end up with more questions after every visit.

"Are your friends aware of how much you're struggling?"

"Look," Hermione said, stealing a glance at the witch who still looked worried. "It was a moment of weakness and I shouldn't have said it. I'd rather we no longer discuss it. It is truly none of your business."

"Perhaps," Mrs. Malfoy muttered. "But what you said is out in the open now and you can't expect me to just ignore it. Knowing that you would rather have died at the hands of my sister..." Mrs. Malfoy shook her head. "That's not something I can just forget."

Hermione sighed and swung her chair around, trying to regain some of her composure. Everything was getting so complicated and it was the last thing she needed. All she wanted was to focus on her work and forget about the past, like it had forgotten about her.

"I will indulge you, for now. I do not wish to make a difficult day any more difficult for you. We will revisit this topic later."

"Fine," Hermione spat out. She would just ignore it all over again if or when Mrs. Malfoy would bring it up.

Mrs. Malfoy stood up from behind her desk and grabbed the purse that stood on the edge of the desk. "If you'll excuse me, I need a minute."

Hermione didn't indulge her with an answer. She jumped when the door slammed shut behind the witch. Glancing at the clock, she sighed. She still had another two hours to go before she could take her lunch break, and then another five hours before she could make her way home. It was going to be a long day, she thought. Grabbing a pile of papers from her desk, she sorted through them absent-mindedly.

"Hermione?"

Startled, Hermione looked up and frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"Okay. One, that's no way to say hi to me and two where in the flying harpies were you with your thoughts? I've been trying to get your attention for like the last five minutes."

"Sorry Ginny," Hermione said, motioning for Ginny to take a seat. "Today doesn't seem to be my day."

Ginny leaned forward, elbow resting on her knee, chin resting in the palm of her hand. "What's wrong?"

Hermione had no idea where to start. Everything was wrong, but that hardly seemed like an appropriate response. It would worry her friend unnecessarily and she didn't want that on her conscious. How could she possibly convey what was on her mind when half of her thoughts were not allowed to be spoken into existence?

"Just tired," she finally said.

"Mmyeah, I don't believe that."

Hermione waved her off. "Promise." She shifted in her seat. "What made you drop by?"

Ginny bit her lip, clearly struggling to move past the subject as fast as Hermione was willing to. "I'll tell you when you tell me what's really bothering you."

She tried so very hard to choke back the sob but once she felt the first teardrop fall, she hid her face in her hands and let them freely fall.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Ginny said, walking over to her, crouched down and engulfed her in a tight hug. "Sshh," she cooed. "It's going to be okay."

"It's too...too much," Hermione cried. "I can't do it."

"Can't do what?"

"I am so...overwhelmed."

Ginny leaned back and wiped away the tears from Hermione's fall and offered a tiny smile. "Talk me through it. What's happening?"

Hermione took a deep shuddering breath. "I don't even know where to start. Half of it I can't tell you due to a pure need-to-know clause and the other half you won't understand."

"Try me," Ginny said, a bit firmer. "I've been with the boy-who-lived for a while now, I might understand more than you know."

"Does the war ever bother you, Ginny? I mean, do you feel anger? Hopelessness? It seems with every passing day, it just gets harder to breathe and I don't know how to make it go away."

Ginny frowned and stroked Hermione's knee with her thumb, a gesture she greatly appreciated. "In a way, yes. We've lost so many people, it's hard to fathom at times."

Hermione nodded. "W-when Bellatrix cursed me, Mrs. Malfoy said she left a piece of herself in me and it's like, ever since she's said that, I can't seem to shake the thought that Bellatrix is in me, ruining my life one day at a time."

"Woah," Ginny said. "Back up, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"She works here now," Hermione said, pointing to her desk. "Kingsley hired her as an extra help for the department. She does good work, I'll admit that, but I can't look at her without seeing the woman who let her sister torture me."

"That vile witch," Ginny sneered.

Hermione shook her head. "It's not like that. It's– I don't even know. She has tried to explain it to me and I can see that my anger is somewhat misdirected but–"

"Is it, though?"

"I don't know how to get past it. How am I supposed to work with her and pretend like none of it ever happened? How do I let go of all that anger and resentment towards her?"

Ginny released a long breath and ran a hand through her hair. "Have you talked to Harry about this?"

"No. You know what he'd say. She–"

"Saved his life," Ginny finished for her and Hermione nodded.

"That doesn't make everything else okay. I know he fought hard for her family to stay out of Azkaban, but if you ask me they all should've been incarcerated."

Ginny stood up and walked over to Mrs. Malfoy's desk. "Where is she, anyway?"

"We had an argument, she left."

"Typical."

"What am I gonna do, Ginny?"

Ginny knocked on Mrs. Malfoy's desk twice and looked up. "You're going out for lunch with me. Take the rest of the day off."

"Can't do that, there's so much–"

"Nonsense," Ginny said. "You need this. Your health comes first and by the sounds of it, you could do with a break."

"And then some," Hermione murmured, waving it off when Ginny regarded her with a curious look. "Let's go."

Lunch with Ginny had been exactly what Hermione had needed. Catching up with one of her best friends seemed to have lifted her spirits somewhat and she was glad to be back at work.

She had successfully dodged Mrs. Malfoy, despite them sharing an office. Every time the woman tried to strike up a conversation, Hermione dug herself deeper into her work until Mrs. Malfoy had murmured, "Suit yourself."

Frantically scribbling down notes on her scroll, Hermione barely noticed the knock on the door before it opened and the Minister walked in.

"Mrs. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, a moment please."

Frowning, Hermione looked up. She was quickly growing tired of people barging into her office and demanding up all her time. Meetings were invented for a reason; she wanted to go into meetings with a clear idea of what would be discussed, and these unannounced office intrusions achieved the exact opposite.

Kingsley paced the space between her own desk and that of Mrs. Malfoy. He cast a quick muffliato charm before speaking.

"A delicate matter has been brought to my attention. While I cannot tell you who my source is, I can guarantee the both of you that this information did not come from within this office. However, it does involve the two of you."

"What on earth is going on?" Mrs. Malfoy asked and for a mere second Hermione was thankful she didn't have to ask the question herself.

"At first, I was unsure of how to proceed. After all, the wizarding world is still coming to terms with all that has happened with Voldemort. However, I feel like I can't ignore this particular situation."

This time Hermione did chime in. "Minister?"

"Quite a situation indeed," Kingsley said. "I see no other choice but to take matters into my own hands."

"What situation?"

Hermione dared to steal a glance at Mrs. Malfoy who looked as clueless as she herself felt.

"I am sending the both of you to a retreat for five days. A sort of bonding experience if you will."

"WHAT?"

"Like hell you are!"

"Silence," Kingsley said, holding up a hand, rendering them both speechless. "I have appointed a mediator who I think will be most successful at resolving this tension between the two of you."

Hermione pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Surely all of this wasn't truly happening. A retreat with Mrs. Malfoy? One of them would end up dead before the end of the first day and she couldn't be sure it wouldn't be her.

"We have to much work to do," Hermione said.

"Nonsense. Your work can wait. Your work relationship however, can't. It is of the utmost importance that you two need to learn how to forgive each other. We are all on the same side now."

Hermione laughed, but quickly stopped when she noticed Mrs. Malfoy flinch. "She needs to forgive me? For what? I have done absolutely nothing to her."

"That's for your mediator to explain, not me," Kingsley said. "This retreat is mandatory. I will personally see to it that Crookshanks will be properly fed and Narcissa, I have let your son know that you will be unavailable for the next week due to work."

"Wait," Hermione interjected. "We're leaving today? I am not ready! I have to pack and–"

"None of that will be necessary. Everything has been taken care off."

Hermione shook her head and turned her attention to Mrs. Malfoy. "Don't you have anything to say about this? You're fine with just being told you're about to spend five days with me?"

"I believe," Kingsley said. "Mrs. Malfoy is fully aware of just how dire this situation is. Am I correct?"

Mrs. Malfoy nodded. "I can't say I appreciate it, but yes. I think I understand."

Hermione squinted her eyes, her gaze going from Mrs. Malfoy to Kingsley and back. Oh god. "You told him?!"

"I did no such thing."

"I told you it was none of your business!"

"Ms. Granger, please. While I understand your anger, I promise you I have not broken your trust and said anything to anyone."

"She's not wrong, Hermione," Kingsley said. "I don't know what situation the two of you are referring to. She is not the source of the information that's been fed to me." He motioned for both to come closer. "This pen is the portkey to the resort. Your mediator will be waiting for you. If you please," he said and motioned for them both to grab hold of the pen.

They simultaneously reached for the pen.

"That's just vile," Hermione uttered as the sensation of being pulled to another location consumed her.

"Agreed," Mrs. Malfoy said.

Hermione couldn't be sure whether Mrs. Malfoy had agreed before or after they went to their new location. But as the pen fell to the ground, they were at a new place.

"Good day Mrs. Malfoy, you are looking quite beautiful today."

Hermione looked up in surprise.

"Hello Hermione. Your head is just full of wrackspurts."