'Scourgify.'

The coffee stain disappeared to reveal the latest issue of the Daily Prophet, emblazoned with the headline: HOUSE-ELVES CHOOSE FREEDOM. It had taken several years for Harry to buy a copy of the newspaper again, once the hateful bile that had previously characterised its pages had finally been replaced with the truth. After the war, people had grown tired of lies. After the war, people had demanded change.

Harry signed the last of his numerous reports on yesterday's 'Muggle-born Pride Rally', before clearing away his desk with a flourish of his wand and venturing through the Ministry's deserted corridors to Hermione's office. He let out a light chuckle when he found her, asleep on top of a stack of parchment, with several owls fluttering above her head and the S.P.E.W badge clutched in her hand. In that moment, Hermione was fourteen again and inviting him to knit hats for house-elves and Harry suddenly found himself wishing that he'd said yes. Ten years later, not much had changed; they still had friendship and bravery and all the spaces in between. Perhaps time would come to let those spaces unfurl completely.

Careful not to wake her, Harry dropped the Prophet onto Hermione's desk and scrawled a note just below the headline: What's next?