When Hermione returned to Britain towards the end of July for Ron and Megan's wedding, she decided to stay with Harry, since Molly Weasley would be in full-on wedding preparation mode and Hermione wanted to avoid the chaos. On her first evening back, Harry tentatively asked if she would like to go out for dinner.

"You're probably really tired and jet-lagged though, because you flew here the Muggle way."

"No, it's not too bad. I spent the journey meditating and sleeping. It was quite relaxing, really. Besides, I took a Jet-lag Potion, so I'm fine," she replied.

Harry gaped at Hermione in shock. "There's a Jet-lag Potion?"

Hermione laughed. "Oh, yes. Most magicals use magical travel, of course, but there are a lot of magicals in the American Armed Forces and they tend to travel by military transport, just like I did now. Only the President and the Joint Chiefs of Staff and a few select others are privy to knowledge of magic, so it's not always possible for personnel to travel by magical means without giving away the secret. So the Americans developed a Jet-lag Potion for use by magicals in the Armed Forces, which can be taken discreetly, no one the wiser. As I'm currently employed by the US Air Force, I have access to the potion."

Harry shook his head. "The things the British wizarding world misses out on because they ignore the Muggle world."

Hermione shared a rueful smile with Harry. This was something they, and some of their other Muggleborn and Half-blood friends, complained about often. Of course, they all loved the wizarding world and being able to do magic, but they all agreed that the Muggle world also had much to offer. This was something that their Pureblood friends, no matter how liberal, simply did not manage to appreciate.

The two friends headed out to a nice restaurant in Muggle London, wanting the anonymity they would not be able to get in the wizarding world.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Hermione gently, once they had their meals in front of them. Although he was clearly happy to see Hermione, she could tell that something was bothering her friend.

"I'm not sure where to begin," Harry sighed despondently.

"At the beginning?" suggested Hermione, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Not helpful, Hermione!" Harry snorted through a half-hearted laugh.

"Harry," Hermione said gently, putting her hand on Harry's and squeezing it in comfort. "Just talk. Let it all come out. I'm sure I'll manage to muddle my way through it—I do know how to speak Harry Potter, after all these years."

"Well, you know how I always wanted to be an Auror? Never really considered anything else?"

"Yes, I know. And you achieved that, Harry. You passed your training with flying colours," said Hermione encouragingly.

"Yeah, but I'm not really an Auror. All I do is paperwork. All I've ever done since not long after I completed training is paperwork."

"Why is that, Harry? I very much doubt you would have achieved such good results if you were incompetent. In the days of Cornelius Fudge or Rufus Scrimgeour, they might have passed you if were incompetent, simply so the Auror Office could say it has the Boy-Who-Lived on staff. I don't see Kingsley allowing that, though. He's more honourable than that. Besides, if that were the case, you wouldn't have received the top results of your class."

Harry sighed again. "It's that bloody wand," he said quietly. "When Aurors are called out to incidents, we aren't exactly dealing with law-abiding citizens who want to pass out warm fuzzies to the general populace. So every time I responded to a call, the criminals, Death Eaters, whoever they were, would immediately attack me, trying to gain mastery of the Elder wand. It was making me a liability and putting everyone else in danger, so they took me off active duty. I asked if I could at least assist in training new recruits but Kingsley and Gawain Robards, the Head of the Auror Office, don't want anyone duelling me, in case I'm defeated. That would mean I'd lose the mastery of the Elder Wand, and no one wants to take that chance. So that's it. I'm not allowed to do my job, even though I'm damn good at it. I could have coped better if I'd been injured, or wasn't very good at my job or was being penalised for having done something wrong, but that's not it. I don't want to boast, but I honestly was a good Auror. I never wanted an Order of Merlin or recognition for what I did in the war. All I ever wanted was to get through the war and become an Auror like my dad, and now I can't do that. Kingsley and Gawain Robards are very kind but they made me feel like a burden who they're only keeping on staff out of pity."

"Oh, Harry," breathed Hermione sympathetically. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier? This must have been going on for ages."

Harry shrugged. "I felt guilty complaining. Ron thinks it's hilarious. I think he's also enjoying not being in my shadow anymore. If I complain, it makes me sound jealous, as though I can't stand Ron having his chance to shine. I'm the laughing stock of the DMLE; everyone makes fun of me. I wouldn't mind so much if only Ron would support me. It just feels a bit too much like when everyone thought I was the heir of Slytherin back in Hogwarts, or when the entire school apart from you turned against me over the Triwizard Tournament."

Hermione shook her head. She did not agree that Harry was being in any way unreasonable but she guessed that Ron—never the most tactful of people—was no doubt rubbing it in a bit. Their red-headed friend was probably making it impossible for Harry to complain but, to Ron's credit, it was unlikely that he was doing it deliberately. It was far more likely that Ron simply did not realise just how much this was tearing Harry up. When she had once described their other best friend as having "the emotional range of a teaspoon," it had been for a reason, after all. Ron was much more in touch with his own feelings now, thanks to Megan's influence, but still tended to be somewhat oblivious to anyone else's, unless they impacted directly on himself, as Megan's feelings did. While Hermione thought it should be obvious even to Ron that this would be too similar to those incidents in school, she had to remember that Ron had in fact been one of the people who had turned against Harry over the Triwizard Tournament.

"Who made this decision?" Hermione asked.

"Kingsley and Gawain Robards."

"What about Ginny? Why do I get the impression I'm the first person you've spoken to about this? Why haven't you talked to her?"

"She doesn't really get it either. She doesn't understand why I'm upset. She says I either need to get over it and stop complaining, or else just do something different—like playing Quidditch. Like I need even more fame! I never wanted to be famous and I certainly didn't want all this Boy-Who-Lived crap, you know?"

"I know, Harry. Truly I do. And you should have spoken to me, told me what was going on."

"I didn't want to burden you."

"Harry, you'll never be a burden to me. And did you honestly think I wouldn't understand? Me, who even with a wizarding Mastery still can't teach at Hogwarts or get a job as anything more than maintenance staff at the Ministry due to my blood status? Think how many Muggleborns have left the wizarding world or emigrated out of Britain since the war ended," said Hermione gently.

Harry looked dumbstruck. "Oh, Hermione…" he began, only to be interrupted by his friend.

"Harry, it's all right. I didn't say that for sympathy, but to show you that I truly do understand. Don't let Ron or Ginny guilt you over feeling bad. You're entitled to regret that you can't have the career you wanted. Think of it as a period of mourning," the bushy-haired witch advised.

Harry looked at Hermione in relief. "Yes," he said in dawning understanding. "That's exactly it. A period of mourning."

"You're allowed to mourn the loss of that career but don't wallow, Harry. That's not healthy either. You need to move on at some point," Hermione reminded him firmly.

Harry looked downcast again. "I don't know what else to do," he admitted. "I asked Minerva about the Defence position at Hogwarts, but I don't have any NEWTs. Besides, while I was good at the practical side of things, I wasn't really that great at the academic side and I'm not sure I'm the right person to shepherd the kids through their OWLs and NEWTs. Minerva was too polite to say that, but she was definitely thinking it."

Talking of thinking, Hermione had been doing some of her own. "Harry, what would you say to doing some studying if it led you to a suitable alternative career?" she asked.

"Such as?" the green-eyed wizard asked hopefully.

"Harry, there was a reason I used to nag you back in school about taking better academic electives than just Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, and it wasn't only because I'm a swot!" Hermione kindly ignored Harry flushing with embarrassment and ploughed on. "A lot of wards are Charms based, but the really heavy-duty wards are always Rune based, even if they're combined with charms or blood. Warding goes hand-in-hand with Defence but the Auror Department has to contract in curse-breakers from Gringotts any time they need someone to break down wards for them, because they don't have anyone on staff who could do that. What if you studied Ancient Runes and get some training in warding? You could become the Auror Office's resident warding expert. You'd still be making a valuable contribution but you wouldn't be on the front lines. Or perhaps you might be interested in becoming a curse-breaker? The Goblins usually require trainees to have NEWTs in Ancient Runes, Defence and any three of Arithmancy, Potions, Charms or Transfiguration, but as they'd probably only take you on as a freelancer instead of a direct employee, like they did with me, they might be more flexible and accept your Auror training and the honorary NEWTs you were awarded after the war in lieu of actual NEWTs."

"It's rather ironic that you're recommending a career that you didn't particularly enjoy yourself, isn't it?" grinned Harry.

Hermione tilted her head appraisingly. "I was always more interested in the runes that were written on the tomb walls than in the artefacts inside the tombs, but the Goblins were only interested in treasure. I did my job conscientiously when I worked for Gringotts, but I'm sure you can understand why it wasn't exactly my ideal job. You have a bit more Indiana Jones in you than I do, I think. You'd probably enjoy facing the challenges left by the Ancient Egyptian wizards in the tombs," she smiled back.

"I probably would at that," Harry agreed. "But five years until I have my NEWT…"

Hermione stared at Harry. "Why on earth would it take five years?"

"Well, that's how long it would take at school," he replied defensively. "Three years for our OWLs and then another two years for NEWTs."

"That's when you were sitting eight or nine OWLs at once, with a further half a dozen NEWTs. If you took a sabbatical from your job and spent the time learning Ancient Runes instead, you could probably sit your OWL within a year and your NEWT the year after. Even if you also decided to do NEWTs in Defence, Charms and Transfiguration as well, you could still complete all your exams within a couple of years," Hermione pointed out. "Although your Auror training should theoretically surpass your Defence NEWT, if you also have those three NEWTs, Minerva might then feel more confident about taking you on as Defence Professor, because that way she'd know that you're familiar with the theory the students need to learn to sit their exams. You could do your Runes OWL and one or two NEWTs this year and the remaining NEWTs the year after. You'll be fine with the Defence, Charms and Transfiguration practicals; all you'll need to do for those subjects is to brush up on the theory required for the exams."

Harry's eyes widened. "I didn't think about that," he admitted sheepishly. "I don't know if I'd want to do such intensive studying, though. I'm not a natural student like you are."

"You'd still be able to take time out to play a game of Quidditch with your mates, or go on dates with Ginny. You wouldn't need to chain yourself to your books for every waking hour, you know."

"I haven't actually seen much of Ginny recently. We've been going through a bit of a bad patch. Ginny doesn't know how to handle me when I'm in a funk—only you seem to be able to do that—so she's been taking advantage of the fact that as a professional Quidditch player she has to travel a lot, and she's left me alone to stew until I'm ready to stop sulking and grow up."

"Ginny didn't really say that, did she?" asked Hermione, appalled.

Harry nodded. "Of course, she was in a flaming temper at the time. She's just like Ron in that respect. They'll say anything in a temper, those two, even if they don't really mean it."

"Well, now you'll have a new lease of life, so you shouldn't be so depressed anymore," said Hermione cheerily and Harry snorted in response.

"Harry, I won't abandon you," Hermione said more soberly, privately not convinced that Ginny did not really mean those hurtful words she had said to Harry. Ginny was a good friend but she was not the most tolerant of people. The two youngest Weasleys, both of whom had very sharp tongues when they chose, expected the world to work in a particular way and they did not cope well when things did not turn out according to their expectations. Although Ginny had mostly got over her hero-worship of the Boy-Who-Lived, there were still some remnants of that within her; being depressed and in a funk would not fit in with Ginny's notion of Harry Potter. In stories, the hero does not become depressed after everything is over, rather they celebrate, and fun-loving Ginny most likely could not understand why Harry did not fit that mould.

"I'll do my best to research the Elder Wand and see if there's a way out of this for you," Hermione promised, "but I've got a lot on my plate so don't expect answers overnight."

"Dumbledore didn't seem to have any better ideas," said Harry morosely.

Hermione snorted derisively. "We don't know to what extent he actually bothered looking. Dumbledore was obsessed with the Hallows, Harry, and probably wouldn't have tried to neutralise the Death Stick until he was close to death himself, because he liked being Master of the Elder Wand. Heck, he wanted to be the last wizard ever to master that damned wand and so his ego most likely couldn't even conceive of any other options than dying undefeated."

Harry's mouth gaped open and closed like a fish. "You're probably right," he finally admitted in a faint voice.

"Just don't go charging up to Hogwarts to challenge his portrait. You going in guns blazing won't help matters if I need his assistance with my research," Hermione warned.

"Don't worry, I can wait. Just know that I will be having words with Albus Dumbledore's portrait eventually."

"Eventually is fine, just not until I've spoken to him first," Hermione agreed.

"Thanks for the pep talk," said Harry, smiling warmly into Hermione's brown eyes. 'Merlin, I've missed her,' he thought. Out loud, he continued, "I'll talk to Kingsley and Bill to see what other options there are for me, whether it be becoming the Auror Office's warding specialist or a curse breaker or something else," he promised.

Harry did indeed talk to Kingsley and Bill but asked them to keep quiet about the conversation until after the wedding, figuring that he would take the opportunity to consider his options and come to a decision while Ron was on his honeymoon, because he did not want Ron trying to talk him out of it, which his red-headed friend would surely do otherwise. Ron never was one for academics and he would be very upset at Harry's change of career, as he loved the idea of them being Aurors together, despite the fact that Harry was nothing more than a glorified clerk these days. Ron would not understand Harry's decision and would likely accuse Harry again of being jealous. Harry knew he would have to deal with Ron's reaction eventually, but preferred to wait until everything was in place before he did so.

The two friends did not discuss the matter again. Harry spent the next few days deep in thought and Hermione chose not to disturb him; she did not want to nag him into any change of direction in career—she knew the choice had to be his. Even if she thought it for the best, it was not her decision to make.

The wedding went off without a hitch—unlike Bill's wedding during the war, which had been attacked by Death Eaters. Megan looked beautiful and both she and Ron were beaming with joy and happiness.

'Megan is right for Ron in a way that I would never have been,' Hermione thought as she watched the new couple dancing together, thankful that she and Ron had both had the sense to realise that they would not have been suited for each other.

"Wishing that was you?" came a voice from behind her. Turning round, Hermione saw Harry standing looking at her amusement.

"Grateful it's not me," Hermione retorted. "You do remember that Ron and I didn't manage to get through one single day without fighting when we were together, don't you?"

Harry winced. "Oh, I remember all right. I also remember how peaceful it was when you two finally broke up."

"Prat!" said Hermione with a laugh. "Come and dance with me, oh best friend of mine."

"All right, but be warned that my dancing hasn't improved much since the Yule Ball at Hogwarts when we were in fourth year."

"That's what cushioning charms are for," replied Hermione impishly, casting one on her feet, which were shod in strappy sandals.

As they danced, Hermione finally decided to raise the subject again. "Have you come to any conclusions yet?"

Harry shook his head. "I've discussed it with Bill, Kingsley and Gawain Robards. Kingsley and Robards aren't sure the Auror Office needs a full-time warding specialist—that's why they contract Gringotts curse-breakers when they need one—but they think it's a sensible route for me to take. Besides, even if I end up working for Gringotts, if I get beaten by a curse in a tomb, the Master of the Elder Wand will then be a dead wizard. Problem solved."

"Provided that the curse in the tomb doesn't kill you," said Hermione sardonically.

"There's that, of course," Harry agreed insouciantly.

"Have you told Ginny yet? What did she say?"

Harry shook his head. "I haven't told anyone. I wanted to get the wedding out the way first. I didn't want to ruin it with explosions."

"Good thinking, Watson," said Hermione, nodding her head in agreement.

Harry grinned. He had not had the opportunity to read much Muggle literature growing up—the only reading materials in the Dursley home had been the newspaper, Vernon's company reports, Petunia's recipe books and cheap romances, and Dudley's school books—but Hermione had introduced him to some books she thought he might like, Sherlock Holmes among them, and now he read voraciously, something else that Ron could not understand. Not that Ron objected to Harry's new-found love of books, he just did not see the appeal.

Bill came over at that moment to claim Hermione for the next dance. "I understand I have you to thank for a conversation I had with Harry recently," the oldest Weasley son said as they were dancing.

"What do you think?"

"I think it doesn't matter what I think. It matters what Harry thinks." Hermione looked steadily at Bill and he caved in. "All right, all right, I give in. I think it's a good idea. I understand why he can't be on active duty as an Auror but curse breaking ought to suit Harry. It's a realistic alternative career for him—it'll make good use of his already formidable defence skills, for one thing. I think it was a sensible suggestion, if he's willing to take the time to make up the skills he'll need that he doesn't already have. Like you, he might not find it as satisfying as a job that he feels would make a difference in our world, but you know what? He's already done that; he's already made a huge difference. Harry doesn't need to take on the responsibility for policing the wizarding world for the rest of his life. Perhaps it's time to pass on that responsibility to others and think of himself for a change."

Hermione looked at Bill approvingly. "You've said that to Harry, I hope?"

"Of course I have. So has Ginny, but I don't think it went over very well when Ginny said it."

Hermione sighed. "Harry hates being in the public eye—he's had far too much of it, both good and bad—but to him, being an Auror was something he was good at on his own merit, something apart from the Boy-Who-Lived nonsense, even though most of his defensive skills were gained because of him being the Boy-Who-Lived. It's also one of the few ways he has to be close to his parents. Harry became an Auror not because of the skills he gained through his experiences, but because his father was an Auror. It wasn't just a job to Harry, it was important to him."

Hermione hesitated and then decided to say it anyway. "Ginny cares for Harry, but I'm not sure she truly understands all that. I believe Harry's tried to talk to her about it but he's not very good at expressing himself and, to Ginny, being an Auror is just a job. I don't think she sees what it means to Harry. I'm also not sure she realises just how lacking in self-confidence Harry is, since he's always managed to put on a very good act, and how much this has damaged him. Ron and I are the only ones who really know the boy behind the legend, even now, and Ron, as he'll freely admit, isn't very adept at understanding or relating to other people's feelings and emotions. From what I gather, Ginny doesn't understand just how upset Harry is over this and why he doesn't just get another job—like playing professional Quidditch, which he doesn't want to do because it'll put him back in the public eye again."

Bill swore softly. "I knew Ginny and Harry were having a bit of a bad patch but I didn't realise it was this bad."

"Don't say anything to Ginny, Bill!" said Hermione urgently. "If she comes to you for advice, then you can tell her all this but don't let her know it came from me. She won't appreciate knowing I was talking about her relationship with Harry. She already finds it hard that I know Harry so much better than she does, and this wouldn't help."

"I won't say anything to her," Bill promised. "I didn't realise Harry had self-esteem issues, though. I know Ron does but I wasn't aware that Harry does too."

Hermione snorted. "Bill, Harry was raised by people who hated him. He was told by them all his life that he was a freak and a waste of space. They resented his very existence and made sure he knew it. Then Harry entered the wizarding world and spent his entire school years being both revered and reviled, famous—or infamous—for something he didn't remember and which was probably actually his mother's doing. He's inclined to believe that the wizarding world is only interested in the Boy-Who-Lived because that's all that most of them really are interested in, and he's now trying to tell himself that he hasn't been discarded because the Boy-Who-Lived has become a liability."

"Well, you're right that he could be a good curse-breaker. It might actually help him. Even though choosing to become an Auror was largely because that's what his father was, most people associate it with the Boy-Who-Lived aspect of Harry, not with the son of James Potter. As a curse-breaker, he would doing something apart from that. Plus, he would probably be working on projects outside Britain, so that would give him a break from the public attention."

"Yes," said Hermione softly. "You get it."

"And Ginny and Ron don't."

"It's not because they don't care or don't want to get it," Hermione hastened to say. "It's more that they tend not to look beneath the surface, especially Ron. They're the youngest children in a large and loving family, which has made them quite immature in some ways. They both still have some growing up to do, I think. Megan's helping Ron with that, but Ginny doesn't have a Megan to help her, and Harry certainly isn't the right person for that; he may be more sensitive than Ron, but he doesn't believe in himself enough to stand up for his own feelings."

That was when Victoire came running over to dance with her Daddy and Hermione graciously ceded the floor to the enchanting little girl. Looking around as she left the dance floor, Hermione noticed that Professor McGonagall was on her own and went over to talk to her.

"Hermione! It's good to see you, child. Come over and tell me all about your life," Minerva said encouragingly upon seeing her favourite Gryffindor.

"Well, I can't tell you about my job, I'm afraid, but I can tell you that it's challenging, important and I'm enjoying it very much. I've made friends in the local wizarding community and I'm happy."

"And do you have a young man there?"

"I'm afraid not. I've been so busy that dating hasn't been much of a priority."

"Don't get so caught up in work that life passes you by, Hermione," said Minerva looking sad. She had not married until she was forty-seven and her husband had passed away only three years later. Minerva's life had been fulfilling but she regretted that she had wasted so much time before finally marrying the man who had wanted to marry her for many years—it had taken a long time until she had eventually accepted his repeated proposals.

"I'll do my best," Hermione promised. "Talking of work, though…"

"Oh, Hermione," Minerva groaned. "You're on holiday, child. Take advantage of it."

Hermione grinned. "It's not really work. It's more for a private project. I was wondering if I could come to Hogwarts and have a word with Professor Dumbledore's portrait while I'm here. I go back to the States at the end of the week and I'd really like to talk to him before I go, if it won't be too much trouble?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No, not exactly. I just need to ask him some questions. You'd be welcome to sit in on the conversation."

"Very well, then. Why don't you come tomorrow around two o'clock?"

"Thank you, Minerva. I'll see you then."