That arrogant prat! The nerve! He is such an arse -

On the other hand, it was really kind of him to go out of his way to help me get a job -

NO! He must think so little of me! He must think I'm incapable of getting a job on my own. I'll show him! The little prick -

But what if this is the start of something amazing? Maybe I should be grateful -

NO!

Hermione mentally battled with herself, unsure of whether to thank him or to strangle him. She could always do both; just grab hold of his neck, and scream her gratitude in his face. Whatever works.

One thing she knew for sure, however, was that she was going to push her pride, which was currently having a seizure, aside, and take the interview.

In the midst of her thoughts, she failed to notice the new letter slipping through her mail slot until it had slid over to her feet.

Hermione curiously picked up the envelope, noting the lack of the Ministry seal. Pulling out the piece of parchment, however, she recognized Ginny's handwriting. Opening it up, she began to read.

Hermione,

Come quick! I've found your bridesmaid dress! I need you to try it on to make sure it looks okay.

Ginny

Momentarily forgetting all about Malfoy and the job, she disapparated to Ginny and Harry's house with a loud pop.

When she arrived, she instantly recognized a certain Ravenclaw's wavy blonde locks.

"Luna!" she exclaimed, running up to hug her friend. "Oh, it's so great to see you! How is everything?"

Luna smiled dreamily at her. "Hello, Hermione. Hogwarts is fine, but everyone in Ravenclaw has been infested with Wrackspurts! I keep trying to tell them to think positive thoughts, but no one will listen to me! I attempted to inform Headmaster McGonagall, but I'm not quite sure if she received the message."

Hermione nodded in fake understanding. "Oh, that's horrible. Wrackspurts, is it? My father's house once got infested with them," she said, trying to humor her imaginative friend.

Luna scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion. "That's rather odd, don't you think? Wrackspurts can't survive in a non-living environment; they live inside people's ears and make their brains go fuzzy. You should ask your father about that; it would make for an interesting article in the Quibbler, I think."

Hermione awkwardly agreed, before shuffling off to see Ginny, who was making a joke to Harry as he laughed.

"Hello, hello, hello!" Hermione greeted cheerfully. "I see you found dresses!" she said, gesturing to the gowns still zipped up in the dress cover.

"I did!" Ginny squealed, hugging her tightly.

"Ooh, I can't wait! But where's Angelina?" she questioned.

Ginny put her hand on her shoulder, looking at her like she was five. "Hermione, love, some people, like Angelina, have this thing called a job. She gets off around two, so she'll be here then."

Hermione shoved Ginny's arm away, scowling playfully. "I know that! Oh, that reminds me! Guess what?"

"What?" Ginny asked.

"I just got offered an interview as the assistant head with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, Hermione, that's great!" Ginny screeched, hugging her friend excitedly.

"Hermione, that's wonderful," Harry added, giving her a hug of his own.

Luna just nodded in agreement before going back to inspecting the pictures that were hanging on the cream-colored walls.

Hermione left out the fact that she was pretty sure that Malfoy had set the entire thing up after she had specifically told him not to because she really just wanted to see the bridesmaid dresses. Now, Hermione was certainly not the most girly person, far from it, in fact, but sometimes it was just fun to dress up, and feel pretty, and such.

"Ok, enough about that," she pressed. "I want to try on some dresses!"

That snapped Ginny back into reality. "Oh. Right. Luna, come here," she said, motioning towards their dreamy blonde friend.

As the three of them gathered around the gowns, and Harry excused himself to... well, not be around three girls as they tried on clothes, Ginny handed them both a covered dress to try on. Hermione ran off to the nearest empty room, while Luna just swayed dreamily, her mind miles away from her physical self.

Hermione quickly shut the door to the guest bedroom, not bothering to lock the door, as it would have been pointless. She tossed the dress on the bed, and began to fumble with the zipper. About halfway down, of course, it got stuck. Biting back a few curses, Hermione tried to yank the zipper back up, seeing as it wouldn't be going down any further. Once she was successful in doing that, she slowly tried to ease the piece-of-crap zipper down. Unfortunately for her, it proceeded to catch in the same place as before. Huffing over the fact that she was defeated by a zipper, she reached through the gap that was already present, and pulled the dress out.

She quickly stripped off her pajamas that she still hadn't had time to change out of, and slipped into the bridesmaid dress. After zipping it up, this time with little struggle, Hermione looked in the mirror and let out a small gasp. The dress was absolutely stunning.

Falling just above the knee, the red dress gripped snugly at the waist, embroidered with a beaded motif. The inch-wide straps rested near the edge of her shoulders, and formed a v-neck that was very flattering. Hermione was in love with the gown.

Giving an excited twirl, she watched in awe as the dress flared out, but not too much. It was perfect for dancing in.

Hermione quickly ran out of the room, to see Luna in the exact same dress, only hers was blue. The two of them smiled at each other, before walking out to Ginny, who was "patiently" waiting for them in the living room.

When Ginny caught sight of her two friends, she loudly squealed and engulfed them in a rather large hug.

"You guys look amazing!" she exclaimed, breaking the hug and looking them over.

"You have a great eye for dresses, Gin," Hermione said, admiring the gowns.

"These dresses are quite lovely," Luna agreed distantly.

"I can't wait until Angelina gets here!" Ginny continued with an enthusiastic bounce. "This is all going to be so perfect!"

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling great. She had finally broken down and taken the Dreamless Sleep potion, and it had worked like a charm. As she stretched her back, an owl landed on her windowsill and began to tap on the glass.

They were always conveniently there whenever she woke up, and Hermione found that thought quite amusing.

Heaving herself off of her warm bed with a grunt, she walked over to the window that the owl was sitting impatiently outside of, and propped it open. In a flash, the owl dropped the letter and flew out of sight.

"Ok then," Hermione muttered to herself as she opened the Ministry-sealed envelope.

Ms. Granger,

We are delighted that you have taken the time to interview with us. Would next Thursday at four o'clock work for you? Please write back and let us know if this time would be inconvenient for you.

Best of wishes,

Dahlia Raymond, head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures

Hermione excitedly squealed, and as she jumped around the room, her wild hair went flying in all different directions.

Five days; she had five days to prepare for this interview. Surely that was enough time, wasn't it?

At the moment, however, Hermione couldn't have cared less; she was eager for this opportunity, and that was all that mattered.

She had contemplated whether or not to write Draco, thanking him, but decided against it; she could express gratitude at the wedding, assuming she got the job.

She honestly couldn't wait!

Five days of wedding plans and calming a nervous bride later, Hermione was sitting in her undergarments, struggling with what to wear. She had one hour until the interview, and she had already discarded everything she had tried on. It wasn't as if she had many clothes to choose from, but first impressions were key, and she wanted to do well in that aspect.

Finally, she decided on her favorite black muggle skirt that was so tight that she could barely walk, but made her look like a professional. She matched it with the floral blouse that she had borrowed (and not given back to) from Ginny. As for shoes, she slipped on a pair of plain black flats that complimented the outfit nicely, but weren't impossible to walk in.

And then there was her hair.

She had wanted to do a tight bun of sorts that would make her look like she meant business, but her hair had decided to be difficult that day, so Hermione eventually just settled for a ponytail, leaving a few strands down to frame her face.

Makeup? Hermione didn't need makeup, but she supposed a little wouldn't hurt. She wanted to look nice, but not like she was trying too hard. Mascara and foundation, she decided, was all that she was going to use.

Finally satisfied, she looked back at her clock.

3:10

Wait, she had done all of that in ten minutes? That left her with fifty minutes left, thirty-five if she wanted to get there early (which she did). Thirty-five minutes to stress and change her mind and lose her sanity. She supposed she could get something to eat. Or she could read. Or she could sit around in her flat in absolute dread. That last one sounded good to her, so she sat on her couch, and began to make dying-whale noises as she looked through her resume and her notes, and found every little flaw or detail that she wished she could change.

Twirling her small, curly strands of hair that hung loosely on her cheeks, she began to pace as fast as she could in her abnormally tight skirt.

She wasn't ready.

She was not ready.

This one interview could shape the rest of her entire life; she wasn't ready for that kind of pressure! Granted, Hermione always did well under pressure, but it was the moments leading up to that one big, pressure-filled event that really made her lose it.

And Hermione was losing it.

3:20

She swore that clock was just taunting her, and the slow ticking began to drive her into insanity. She needed to get out. She needed to leave her stuffy flat and take a walk, or just get some air, but she needed to do something.

Hermione grabbed her professional-looking briefcase, lifted her wand, and apparated to a street that was roughly a twenty minute walk from the ministry. Anxiously sighing, she began the journey to either her impending doom, or a new land of opportunity.

Ten minutes into the walk, she was almost tempted to turn back the way she had come, and run, but she finally just mentally slapped herself, muttering "I'm an idiot," under her breath.

She was being ridiculous; what was the worst that could happen? Wait - no, don't think that. If that thought popped up in her mind, something was bound to go wrong. They'd tell her that they had sent the letters to her by mistake, and that they had meant to interview a different Ms. Granger, or she would end up tripping down the stairs, and crush her skull in, or - No, positive thoughts, Hermione. Positive thoughts.

Everything was going to go smoothly. She had prepared for every single question they could throw at her, and had even practiced the interview with Ginny's help. She looked professional, and she knew how to hide her nervousness well. She would be fine.

She stopped walking, and looked up. There it was, the Ministry, towering over her head in a way that felt mocking, almost threatening, and her panic returned.

She cautiously walked up to the visitor's entrance, each step sending a shiver up her spine. She could hear her own breath louder than any of the busy ministry workers, and it took all that she had to calm herself down.

"You can do this, Hermione," she whispered under her breath, before opening the large and heavy door, and stepping inside.

It took her roughly five minutes to navigate the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and another three minutes to find Dahlia Raymond's office. As she was about ten minutes early, Hermione stiffly took a seat in one of the hard, wooden benches sitting outside of the room.

Ten minutes later, as she was quickly running over the questions once more to distract herself from the fact that Dahlia would be coming out any minute, the door opened, and out walked a woman that Hermione presumed to be Mrs. Raymond.

The woman, in her mid-twenties, was at least 5"8, with long, straight brown hair that ended right above her waist. She was thin, wearing an outfit similar to Hermione, and she had a friendly face that made her look approachable. She was very pretty in Hermione's opinion.

"Ms. Granger!" she called in a friendly tone, and Hermione's anxiety quickly vanished. "I am so glad you could make it! Come in, come in," she said, gesturing to her office with her arm.

As Hermione walked in, she took a moment to look around the office. It was small, but not too small. There was a medium-sized desk on one side which took up most of the room, and had a chair on either side of it. On top of the desk were scattered papers, and a picture of Dahlia and a man who was most likely her husband, and they were both smiling and laughing at a little boy about two years old. The rest of the room was filled with papers, file cabinets, and books. Assuming Hermione got the job, this was probably what her office would look like.

"Oh, have a seat," Mrs. Raymond said, pointing at one of the chairs. "Pumpkin juice?" she asked as Hermione sat down. She was a bit surprised at how comfortable the seats were.

"Yes, please," Hermione responded, and the woman opened up a miniature fridge stored underneath her desk, grabbed a container of juice, and poured them both a glass, which Hermione accepted graciously.

"So," Dahlia started as she took a seat, and sipped from her drink. "I am very excited to meet you! Of course, I've heard all about your adventures in the papers when you were on the run with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, and then when Mr. Malfoy told me all about you - although, he failed to mention how beautiful you are! Anyways, it's an honor."

Hermione was at a loss for words. She had assumed that Draco had just called one of his connections and asked for an interview, but he had actually talked her up to, quite possibly, her future boss? How was she ever going to repay him for that? "Malfoy - um - what?"

"Mr. Malfoy, your fiance? As soon as there was an open position, he was in my office, talking about his fiancee, Hermione Granger, and how she would be absolutely perfect for the job. Let me tell you," she continued with a more serious tone of voice. "I don't know if you two are together because of love, or because of the new law, but it's hard to find someone who will go the distance for you. Mr. Malfoy is a keeper, and don't you forget it. And he's quite handsome, too," she added with a wink.

Hermione couldn't help but blush. Malfoy had done all of this... for her? She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear Mrs. Raymond ask her a question. When Hermione glanced up to see her staring expectantly at her, however, she snapped back into reality. "What?" she asked. "I mean, could you repeat the question?"

Dahlia laughed in a way that Hermione found just a bit too perky. "I asked you why you would like to work here," she answered with a smile.

As Mrs. Raymond asked her all of the normal interview questions that she had expected, and Hermione responded with perfectly-scripted answers, she began to feel more and more comfortable in the genuinely kind woman's presence.

"So, do you know exactly what this job entails, Ms. Granger?" she asked half an hour later.

"Not exactly," Hermione replied, finishing off the contents of her cup. "I think I know the basic idea, but I'm not one hundred percent sure."

Dahlia rested her elbows on the desk, clasping her hands together. "Ok, so what you would be doing as my assistant is very similar to what I do. You will be giving out orders, going through paperwork, researching certain creatures, and taking my place if I am absent. You will be in charge of pretty much running the department alongside me. Does that sound good?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds wonderful, Mrs. Raymond."

Dahlia smiled, returning her hands to her lap before standing up. "Well, I think that's all for today," she said, extending a hand to Hermione, which she shook. "It's been a pleasure, Ms. Granger, and I will be in contact within the week."

Hermione smiled gratefully. "Take care," she said as she began to head out of the office.

"You too," Mrs. Raymond replied. "And have fun with that fiance of yours!"

Hermione blushed before giving her a swift nod, leaving the room. As soon as the door shut behind her, she let out a sigh of relief. That had gone way better than she had expected, and she felt pretty confident in herself as she walked towards the exit, head held high.

The Monday after her interview with Dahlia Raymond, two days before Ginny's wedding, Hermione found herself dressed in her bridesmaid dress and admiring it in the mirror. She was mid-twirl when a rapping on glass outside caused her to falter in her steps. Right outside her window was a large white owl with a letter clasped in its beak.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat, and she was pretty sure her stomach had swallowed itself whole. If this was the letter she thought it was... Sure enough, as she walked closer, she could just make out the Ministry of Magic seal. Her steps began to slow, though part of her wanted to just run up to the owl and rip open the envelope.

Finally, she reached the wall, and pushed the heavy, old window up with a grunt, allowing the owl access to her living room. Following suit of its predecessor, the owl dropped the letter and flew off in the blink of an eye.

As she picked up the envelope, her mind grappled over the decision of whether to open it in lightning speed, or to slowly tear it open, building up the anticipation.

She finally decided to just open it as if it were a normal letter, and she pulled out the parchment, carefully unfolding it as if it were the most important and delicate item in the world. Though, in Hermione's case, perhaps it was. Taking a deep breath, she began to scan the contents.

Ms. Granger,

We are pleased to offer you the position as assistant head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and we hope you will accept.

Have a lovely day,

Dahlia Raymond, head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures

Two days later, Hermione was once again in her beautiful red bridesmaid dress, but it wasn't for the purpose of admiring the gown in the mirror; it was the day of Ginny's wedding. Her hair was in a beautiful and tight bun, with a few loose strands that framed her face.

Hermione hadn't told anyone about the job yet, because she didn't want to butt in during Ginny's time to shine, so she was planning to announce the news after the wedding.

At that current moment in time, Ginny was throwing up everything that was in her stomach, and it wasn't all from nerves; Hermione was holding her friend's hair back from her face.

At that moment, Mrs. Weasley bustled in, positively beaming; that is, however, until she saw the state of her daughter. Her radiant smile turned into a disapproving expression. "Ginevra Weasley-" she shouted, but lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. "Are you... are you pregnant?"

Ginny slowly raised her head, wobbling on her knees, and offered her mother a weak smile. "A bit," she rasped.

Molly looked up to the ceiling in disbelief. "Oh!" she cried out sarcastically. "That's just... that's just lovely!" Her exasperation quickly turned into defeat, and she pulled out a small vial from her handbag, handing it to her daughter. "Here, take this. It will stop the 'morning' sickness for the time being, so you'll be fine for the duration of the wedding."

While Hermione rubbed circles into Ginny's back as she drank the contents of the vial, she turned back to Mrs. Weasley with her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Why have you been keeping that with you if you didn't know that Ginny was pregnant?" she asked.

"Oh, well I had my suspicions," Molly responded. "Plus, with this new law, I figured that someone around here would be with-child eventually, and thought that it might be useful to keep the potion around."

Hermione nodded in agreement as Ginny began to rise from the porcelain throne, looking much better than she had five minutes previous.

"Now," she continued, reaching for Ginny's arm and pulling her over to the nearest sink, towel in hand. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Smile!"

Suddenly, a bright white flash appeared directly in front of Hermione's eyes, and she stumbled, momentarily blinded. As she regained her balance, she squinted, making out the shape of a large wizarding camera.

"Dennis!" Hermione exclaimed as the young boy lowered his gadget. "What are you doing here?"

The Creevey tilted his head in confusion. "Didn't Ginny tell you? I'm the photographer for her wedding! Well, one of them, at least. I wanted to get some pictures before the ceremony started; I already got some of Harry earlier. Let me tell you, he is a nervous wreck."

As he babbled on about the wedding and his photography, Hermione looked around. Everyone was bustling around the dressing room in excitement.

Today was going to be magical.

"Is everybody decent?" Arthur Weasley called as he walked into the room, his hand covering his eyes.

Mrs. Weasley swatted his hand away. "Of course everyone is decent!" she reprimanded. "The wedding is started in-" she paused to look at the clock, "five minutes! How irresponsible would it be if everyone weren't at least dressed by now?!"

Arthur ignored his stressed wife to open his arms to his stressed daughter, who was literally shaking. "Oh, Ginny, you look positively beautiful! Harry is a lucky man!" At this, Ginny turned to him, letting herself get lost in his arms.

Hermione turned back to Molly. "Is everyone ready? Is everything in place?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "It's as good as it will ever be."

"I probably should have asked this before, but what is the difference between a muggle wedding ceremony and a magic one?" Hermione questioned.

Molly shrugged. "I don't believe I'm the correct one to answer that, seeing as Arthur is the one who understands muggles better than I, but I'm guessing that muggles don't ride away after the wedding on a broom."

Flying? She would have to fly? Boy did that sound... awful. Hermione laughed nervously. "Yes, I suppose one could assume that. But," she continued. "What if neither of the people getting married knew how to fly? And what if something went wrong?" Hermione knew that Draco could fly, but she was just downright curious.

"Well, the brooms are charmed, of course!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed in a matter-of-fact tone. "They make special brooms in the Ministry that you can set a destination for, and then it flies you there automatically. And there's a special shield on the broom that prevents anyone riding it from falling off."

"Oh," was all Hermione responded with. Well, that made her feel a little bit better. But only a little bit.

"Oh my!" Molly exclaimed. "It's time to start! Positions, everyone!" With that, the excited woman rushed off to the hall outside.

Hey, sorry, I know I said the wedding was going to be this chapter, but then I started writing about everything BUT the wedding, and I didn't want to wait too long. I promise you, there is no way I can avoid the wedding chapter now.

Leave a review!

Until next time,

Aubreena