Hermione returned to her office at the Ministry with a sigh. What had she done to deserve such a rotten assignment? She had been against the whole thing from the beginning. It was such a ludicrous idea, getting him to spill his secrets in the vain hope that it would give them new information on the location of fugitive death eaters. It stank of letting him off with nothing more than a slapped wrist and that was it. Alright, so he wasn't free to roam where he wanted to, nor was he able to see whomever he liked or even cast very much magic without it being monitored but she had her doubts. He was cunning and if there was a way around it, he was bound to find it.
How she had been lumbered with him was beyond her. She picked up a piece of paper from her desk and began screwing it up. "Was it that bad?" A familiar voice called from across the way and she looked up.
"I didn't want to go in the first place Harry," she scowled.
"Was he rude to you?"
"No," she said shaking her head.
"Did he threaten you?" Harry asked as he walked over to lean on her desk.
"No, not at all," she said. She scrunched the piece of paper up and threw it at the bin. She missed.
"Then I don't understand what the problem is." Harry said.
"You don't see the problem?" Hermione snorted. Harry stooped up and picked up the piece of paper, unfurling it again. "His wife tortured me, he just stood there and watched it happen! He said nothing! Now they expect me to just accept that he is free and I've got to help him," Hermione said, knowing her words were becoming heated but unable to stop herself. Harry remained silent on the matter, merely playing with the scrap of paper, which only infuriated her more, "It's just not on!" she snapped.
"I don't think there's any getting out of it," Harry said. She caught his green eyes with hers and sighed, she knew he'd never fully understand why she was so opposed to it; he would never wear a scar on his arm that had been carved into it with another's wand. He had never been the victim of such racial crimes; he was a pure blood after all! She didn't say anything, that was uncharitable and she knew it.
"I know, I'm just moaning," she said.
"You never know, something decent might come out of it, hear he had a decent library so at least you can read!" Harry said, trying to laugh.
"The whole place is coming down around his ears," Hermione said, "There was a library, I saw it this morning but it's in a terrible mess, I don't even know whether he can salvage it or not."
"I see you offered to help," Harry said before ditching the paper back into the bin where it belonged. She opened her mouth to protest at that but found words wouldn't leave her mouth. He hadn't asked her for any help and she doubted whether she was the sort of person he would want help from… which was all the more reason to do it.
"Do you think I should have done?" she asked. Harry shrugged.
"That's up to you Hermione, only you will feel the guilt of letting all those books rot when you could have done something about it," he said. She flushed at that, aware of what he was doing put powerless to stop it. She let out a huff.
"Very well, as soon as I have had lunch, I'll go back and see if I can do anything," she muttered.
"Don't do it on my count," Harry said, "Do it because you want to." With that, his name was called from the other side of the office and he shrugged, "Duty calls," he said. Hermione let out a deep sigh and knew what Harry was saying. Knowing that there was a library in dire need of assistance and doing nothing about it was a crime in her mind. It didn't matter who it belonged to. She'd never be able to let the thought go until she did something about it. Yes, it would mean seeing him again but so long as he was mild mannered towards her, she thought she would be able to stomach it. After a hastily scoffed lunch, she informed Shacklebolt what she was doing, he just gave her a smile that made her wonder a few things. Making sure she had everything she needed, she let out a final sigh before apparating back to the Lestrange Manor.