Chapter 7

In which Hermione talks to her boss.

A/N- We're about halfway done, and remember...I don't own any of this and make no money from it. Thanks for the reviews so far, I like to hear what you think.

Hermione had money. After the War, the Ministry had quietly offered her, Harry, and Ron, a large lump sum of Galleons that represented how thankful they were that Voldemort was finally dead. Hermione knew that Kingsley was being kind and fair, but she also knew the money came from the coffers of old Pureblood families that had backed the wrong side. She resented getting money this way, and left it virtually untouched in the vaults that Gringotts was rebuilding. When she left, she had the Galleons converted into Pounds Sterling and transferred to a Muggle account in HSBC. She spent a little of the money on her University, and afterwards on a nice flat in Number Ten, Bloomsbury Square. It was close enough to her new job at the British Museum, and overlooked a charming park in a completely Muggle-infused part of London.

What she didn't plan on was the loneliness. She spent her formative years out of Muggle society, and found that she had few commonalities with people around her. The boys she met in school didn't quite fit, although a few of them turned out to be tireless lovers that helped her forget her past for a few hours. Since she graduated however, she was essentially alone. She lived alone, researched alone in the archives of the Museum, and attended fundraising events alone. It was this never-ending loneliness that drove her into the arms of her boss, one of the Directors of the European Gallery. It was a terrible mistake from the beginning. She wasn't sure if he was ever charming, but he was persistent, attractive, and unfortunately…married.

After months of working with Nigel, she finally broke down and let him take her to dinner. They had a few drinks, and the next thing she knew, they were snogging like mad, and he had her pressed up against the door of her flat. She fumbled for her keys, opened the door without missing a beat, and they fell together on the couch. They spent the next two hours engaging in some extremely consensual sex. When she caught him trying to sneak out hours later, he confessed that he had to go home to his wife and brand new baby. He barely escaped before she could hit him with a shoe.

In the three years that followed, Hermione had proved herself to be a fantastic Assistant Curator, who was promoted to a wonderful Assistant Director. She also proved to be a fool. She couldn't stop seeing Nigel. The sex was good though the guilt Hermione felt was terrible. However, at least there was someone in her life. She just couldn't seem to connect with anyone in the Muggle world, and at least the physical connection with Nigel, no matter how awful it made her feel, was better than nothing. Lately, Nigel had started to feel threatened by her rise within the Museum's hierarchy. She didn't need him anymore, and he showed his displeasure by acting like a petulant child. This was one of the things that concerned her about her exhibition. As perfectly planned as it was, it could be crushed by Nigel in a moment. She knew that breaking it off with Nigel should be at the top of her to-do list, but ending her relationship without ending her career was going to be a difficult task.

Hermione opened the door to her flat, and hung her coat on the rack by the door. She reached into her briefcase and pulled out her old beaded bag, the one that had supported her when she, Harry and Ron were on the run. She reached deep inside and extracted the Krum painting for her show. As Hermione walked over to the dining room table to place it on a portable easel, she reflected on the fact that after living here for years, it still looked like she hadn't finished moving in. There were a few boring pictures on the wall, no "interesting" pieces of art, not even any framed snapshots of her friends and family. It looked like a decorator had been hired to stage the entire place, with no input from its owner…which is exactly what had happened.

"Well, that's done," Hermione said to herself. She went into her kitchen, turned on the electric kettle, and selected a tea. While the water was heating, she turned to look at the painting and admired it again. She looked around her apartment and said, "One day I really have to get some better art in this place."

Hermione was sipping her tea and looking through her mail when the bell rang. It wasn't late, but late enough that she was surprised that she had a caller. She pushed the intercom and said a tentative, "Yes?"

"Hermione, let me up. I've got to see you." Nigel slurred into the speaker.

"Nigel, what are you doing here? It's late."

"Come on love, let me up."

Hermione let her finger hover above the intercom button, and tilted her head to the side questioningly for a moment. Nigel had not been to see her for months. He had never called her "love"; never mentioned anything about love; and never came over without planning ahead so that his wife wouldn't suspect anything. He had been distant and unapproachable for the past several weeks, so his showing up drunk tonight at her doorstep was a bad sign. She couldn't have him causing a scene in front of her neighbors, but she didn't want to see him. As her thoughts raced about what to do, she realized that this might be the leverage she needed to get her exhibit finally approved. Brushing her unruly locks back anxiously, she buzzed him in and slipped her wand into the sleeve of her jumper.

Nigel smiled charmingly as he entered Hermione's flat. He collapsed onto the couch and said, "Come here, come here, sit next to me."

"Nigel, how much have you had to drink?"

"All of it," he laughed. "I've made a very important decision tonight, and I'm ready to celebrate."

"What are you going on about?"

"Babe, I've decided to ask you to marry me; I'm going to tell my wife about us, and leave her. Well, maybe not really in that order," he said, falling back on the couch.

"You want to leave your wife for me, and get married?" Hermione asked, shocked. "This is a terrible decision. You haven't spoken to me in weeks, you're my boss, we've been having an affair, you are married with a baby, and I'm just an awful person to get involved in all of this," she realized aloud.

"It's not so bad, we can be happy. You have a nice place here. We can live together and you can keep working for me."

That sounded like a truly dreadful plan to Hermione. "Oh, no. Seriously, we need to sober you up. I'm going to make you some coffee," Hermione said, walking into the kitchen.

"Don't be angry, let's celebrate. Come back in here. How about one little kiss?"

Hermione leaned on the counter in frustration. This was it; she needed to get out of this relationship now. "No. You need to straighten up and get out of here. This can't go on any longer."

"What? Are you calling this off now?" Nigel called out from the living room. "I thought you had a show you wanted to put on?"

Hermione stopped making coffee and walked slowly back into the living room. Nigel was sitting up on the couch now, looking at her with a smug expression, and behind the mask of his drunkenness, she could see the anger that was boiling within him. How could I have been so stupid to get involved with a man like this, she thought. "Nigel, I do have a show that I will put on, and you are going to agree to it. It is perfect and you know it. You also know that this," she said, motioning to the two of them, "is over. Right now."

"If you think that you stand a chance to put on a show without me, you are dead wrong. I own you. Maybe you do have some good ideas but you are just a little…whore." Nigel stood uncertainly, and started walking over to Hermione looking as though he intended to attack her. He was tall, with lean muscles and certainly a threat.

Hermione, with tears welling up in her eyes, whipped out her seldom-used wand from her jumper sleeve and said, "Petrificus Totalus!" Nigel froze in mid-stride while his arms and legs snapped together; he stayed upright for just a second, and then slowly fell to the floor like a Christmas tree on a weak stand. "You bastard," Hermione said, wiping the tears away. She looked down at her wand, and thought about how good it felt casting a spell. It had been a long time since she used her wand for anything other than the simplest cleaning charms. The power coursed through her again, and buoyed her up for what she knew had to come next. "Nigel, unfortunately, you have turned into one of my worst mistakes. Not the top of the list, mind you, but a big mistake nonetheless. Right now, I have placed you in a Full Body-Bind Curse. I learned it when I was enrolled in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm a witch, and a pretty accomplished one at that. I'm a little out of practice, but I think I can handle you." Hermione smiled and waved her wand about, enjoying the feel again. "Normally, I couldn't tell you any of this, but you won't remember it for long." She carefully pointed her wand at Nigel, who lay frozen and wide-eyed with terror on the floor. This time she spoke no incantation, and used the same spell that altered her parents' memories, making them think they were Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that they wanted to move to Australia. "Nigel," Hermione said as a soft light emitted from the tip of her wand, "you and I have never had an affair of any kind. Our relationship is purely professional. You love your wife and daughter very much, and have no plans to leave them. In fact, you can't wait to see them both. You want to treat everyone with respect, and you are looking forward to helping me stage my exhibition. The only reason you are here tonight is to tell me the good news that you just approved it. You fainted from excitement, and are slightly embarrassed and anxious to leave. You remember nothing about my magic or that I am giving you these instructions."

Hermione stopped the incantation and the Body-Bind Curse, and put her wand back in her sleeve. Nigel started to rouse, and she helped him to his feet. "Oh Nigel, you fainted. Is everything ok?"

Nigel was disoriented and looked around the room. "I don't know," he said. "I better be getting home to my family, I don't feel so good."

Hermione smiled, "That sounds like a good idea, let me get the door for you."

"Ok," Nigel said softly. "Congratulations again on your show. When are you scheduling it to debut?"

Hermione paused for a second, thought, then said, "Next month, April 24th."

"Brilliant, let me know how I can help," Nigel said, shaking her hand professionally. "Good night."

"Good night, Nigel, thank you," Hermione responded, and closed the door quietly behind him. "Wow," she said to herself when she heard the outside door close. "That felt good."