"Hermy-own," Scott grinned cheesily as he reached her desk. "I have a task for you."
"If it involves me writing notes to your mother or giving you a back massage, then no." Is that what Hermione's life had come to?
"No, it's a job for you." He said.
"A job that normal receptionists have to do, or me?" She asked sternly.
"A job clever receptionists get to do." He said. "As you know, dragon pox has been going around the Daily Prophet workers."
"Yes, I know." Hermione said. This case of dragon pox was more of an epidemic. It seemed at least half the Daily Prophet journalists were out sick, leaving the other half to work overtime.
"The Daily Prophet was wondering, as a favor, if I could get someone from my department to do the story on tonight's Quidditch game. I chose you, because you don't have much to do, and you're a very bright young witch that I know can whipp up a great story together."
"Really? Oh, thank you, Scott!" Hermione said excitedly.
"Yep, so bring a quill and few pieces of parchment, oh, and a guest, because you have two tickets!" He said, handing them to her.
"Who knew dragon pox could be so rewarding?" She said happily. "I'll have to ask Jerry!"
"Well, you better hurry up, because you're leaving in about an hour." Scott told her.
"Writing a story for the Daily Prophet, and leaving work early, this is my lucky day!" She squealed, and scribbled at note to Jerry, which zoomed out of the room on it's own accord.
A half hour later, Hermione still bouncing in her seat with excitement, she received a reply from Jerry.
Hermy,
I'd love to go to the game, but I have to much work to do! I can't just leave early whenever I want, this is much more rigorous then the Daily Prophet sales department! I'm very excited for you all the same, and can't wait to see your story in the paper!
Love,
Jerry
Hermione sighed. Going to the Quidditch game with her fiancee would be the icing on the cake to her day, and now, she didn't know who to invite. Truth be told, she didn't have many friends. She supposed the Maid of Honor at her wedding (when it finally came around) would be Jerry's sister, Abigail, and although she and Abigail got along fairly well, she wouldn't call them best friends. She also needed someone who understood Quidditch. Although excited about the story, Hermione realized she didn't understand Quidditch enough to write a satisfying piece.
"So, word on the street is you've got tickets to the game tonight," Ron said casually, leaning over her desk.
"Yep," Hermione smiled smugly.
"I bet you don't even know who's playing." He challenged.
"I do so! It's...two Quidditch teams." She said.
"Not just two Quidditch teams, the Chudley Cannons!" Ron said, looking offened about how casual she thought this was.
"The Chudley Cannons? Isn't that your favorite Quidditch team?" Hermione asked.
"Well, according to all the posters of them on my desk...no." He said sarcastically.
"Ron, would you like to accompany me to the game?" She asked suddenly.
"Really?" He said, eyes wide.
"Yes, I have two tickets and no one to go with me. We have to leave work in about twenty minutes." Hermione told him.
"Can this day get any better?" Ron asked.
"Alright, where are our seats?" Ron said excitedly once he had bought himself a new Chudley Cannons hat, and one for Hermione.
"You know I'm never going to wear this again." Hermione said, putting her hat on. "It's so cheesy."
"It's fun, Hermione." Ron sighed, "Now, where to, Rita Skeeter?"
"Oooh, we're supposed to go to the special Daily Prophet box seats."
"Wicked!" Ron said, grabbing her arm and leading her up the stairs.
"Bloody Hell!" Ron said once he and Hermione entered the room. It had squashy armchairs, a great view of the Quidditch Pitch, and best of all, a whole cart full of treats like Pumpkin Pasties and foaming butterbeer.
"Hermione, you should think of doing this for a living!" Ron said, helping himself to a pastie.
"I'd have to invite you to every game." Hermione said as she took a seat. "I don't understand Quidditch."
"Ever been to a game before, besides the Hogwarts ones?" He asked.
"Of course! Jerry's a big Tornadoes fan." Hermione told him, and Ron scowled.
"Tornadoes." He mumbled. Just another reason to hate Jerry.
"He gets great seats, Ministry connections." Hermione bragged.
"Yeah, well I went to the Quidditch World Cup!" Ron boasted, "And you've never seen anything like it! Ireland won, but Krum got the snitch!"
"Krum? Like Vicktor Krum? Hermione confirmed.
"Is there any other Krum?" Ron said, like Hermione was crazy.
"I dated him." She said simply.
"WHAT?" Ron gawked. "You dated...you and him...you...KRUM?"
"Yes." Hermione laughed. "Vicktor Krum."
"When?"
"The year of the Triwizard Tournement. I went to the Yule Ball with him. It was nothing too serious, although I did spent the summer in Bulgaria with him." She said casually.
"Wow...this is...wow." Ron said, still amazed. "I'm going to have to take a few minutes to process this. Hey, do you think you could get me an autograph?"
Hermione laughed. "I'll see what I can do. Oh, look, the game's about to start!"
And so it began. Fourteen players flew up into the air, the Chudley Cannons vs. Puddlemere United. Ron was screaming his names of his favorite players, and Hermione was scribbling every dodge, swerve, and curve on her parchment.
"Finley's going for it..." He commentated, "Oh, Wood saved it! Oliver Wood, you know."
Hermione wrote away, asking Ron a fair amount of questions, and by the end of the game, even she was getting into it, rooting for the Cannons almost as loud as Ron, although there wasn't much to cheer for, as the Cannons were loosing 140 to 0.
"Ron," Hermione asked, "What does-"
"Not now, not now! Look, look, they're going for the snitch!" Ron said eagerly, and Hermione stood up from her chair, dropping her quill and joining Ron.
"C'mon, c'mon, don't let us fail miserably..." Ron said anxiously.
"You can do it!" Hermione attempted, and Ron laughed.
It turned out, he could. The Cannons caught the snitch, making the score 150 to 140.
"Yes! Yes! YES!" Ron and Hermione screamed, and Ron hugged her, lifting her up off her feet and spinning her around.
"Ron, put me down! Put me down!" She laughed. "Ron! Ron! No, seriously, Ron." She snapped, and Ron dropped her in an instant.
There was a silence that followed. Ron cleared his throat and said awkwardly, "So, how 'bout them Chudley Cannons?" Hermione smiled.
"Guess who made the paper!" Ron said in a sing-song voice as he entered the office the next morning.
"Where is it?" Hermione said hastily, grabbing the Daily Prophet from his hands. "What page?"
"Don't tell me you haven't read it yet?" Ron asked.
"No, I haven't, actually, I've been too nervous." Hermione confessed.
"Well, there's nothing to be nervous about, I thought it was amazing! You made it sound like I was actually at the game, which I was, but, you get the idea." Ron laughed, and Hermione began to read.
"Hermione, can I see you in my office?" Scott asked.
Hermione followed Scott, with a nervous glance at Ron, who shrugged.
"Hermione," Scott sighed once she had sat down, "It gives me no pleasure in saying that...you're fired."
"What?" Hermione gasped. It was so unheard of, so sudden. She hated the Daily Prophet sales department, she hated being a receptionist, but getting fired? And so sudden? She was almost starting to enjoy work, well, at least having fun with Ron. And Ron! What if she never saw him again?
"I don't see how this could happen!" Hermione said in a high voice. "I've always done my job well, and I come in early, and-"
"And that's why," Scott said, smiling, "You're being promoted."
"What?" Hermione screamed, out of excitement an anger and Scott's crude joke.
"The Daily Prophet loved your article! They want you to work for them." Scott informed her, and Hermione's spirits lifted. "Except, it's not a real job. You'd be an intern, but it would be a great thing to do if you want to be a journalist. Although, you don't get paid, and you'd have to quit your job now. You have until tomorrow to decide.
Hermione didn't need another day to decide. So what if she didn't get paid? In no time, she'd be a Daily Prophet reporter! Hermione thanked Scott before running out the door, who surprised Ron by flinging her arms around his neck while he worked.
"Whoa, what's the excitement, Granger?" Ron said, swiveling his chair around.
"I'm going to be a Daily Prophet reporter!" She squealed.
So what if he never worked with her again? So what if they never saw each other again? Because the moment Ron saw Hermione's excited face, he could do nothing but be happy for her. This was all she had dreamed for, a real job, and he didn't want to keep her from it.
"No way!" Ron got up and hugged her. Hermione then explained the dilemma about how she was actually an intern, before going to her desk and scribbling a memo to Jerry, which flew out the office.
"Alright, alright, this better be good, Hermy, because the letter sounded urgent and I left work for this, you've got five minutes." Jerry said impatiently when Hermione pulled him into the break room.
"I've been promoted!" Hermione said.
"You have! Hermione, that's amazing!" He said, kissing her.
"Well, I've been offered an internship with the Daily Prophet.It doesn't pay, but I'll get hands on experience and it will bring me one step closer to being a journalist. I also have to quit my job, but what do you think?" She explained, and Jerry frowned.
"Well, I hope you didn't tell them you'd do it." He scoffed.
"Why...why not?" Hermione said, slightly crestfallen.
"Because! It's an internship! No pay, no job, and you have to quit the one you have!" He informed her.
"But I don't like the one I have! This is great!" Hermione rebutted.
"No, no, no, you can't do this! Twenty-three year olds can't be interns, that sort of crap is for teens fresh out of Hogwarts!" He yelled.
"But, Jerry, if I do this, I'll be one step closer to being a reporter!"
"But you're settling for a reporter! That's not what you really want!"
"I'm settling for a receptionist at the moment!" Hermione replied smartly. "And that's not much better!"
"If you wait, I can get you a job in what you really want, helping house elves or other magical creatures." He said soothingly, "I have connections. Now isn't that worth the wait?"
"I've waited three years," Hermione said, her voice quavering, "And I can't wait much longer."
With fifteen minutes of more yelling, Hermione and Jerry came to the conclusion that taking the internship was a stupid idea, and Hermione should wait for the 'perfect offer'.
"Are you okay?" Ron said and he came to the break room, and found Hermione alone in the corner.
"Yeah," She sniffled, "I'll be fine."
"You wanted that internship, didn't you?" Ron said wisely.
Hermione stared at him, and said quietly, "Yes. Yes I did. But Jerry says, and I guess he's right, that I shouldn't settle for being an intern."
"But that could turn you into a reporter!"
"And if it didn't? Then I'd be an intern forever! But, I could wait and become something I really want."
"But what if that never happens?" Ron asked harshly, "Jerry talks all about these 'connections' but has never once offered you a job. He's kept you from what you could be. He's kept you from what you really want. You have to take a risk sometime, Hermione. Do you really expect to be a receptionist your whole life?" Ron handed his grape Sparkle to Hermione, and left without another word, leaving Hermione lost in her thoughts and woes.