Hermione caught the balled up top that was launched in her direction and set about folding it correctly before adding it to her growing pile of clothes. The last few weeks had melted away in a flurry of deadlines, extra reading and early revision and now they were packing again, preparing to catch the Express back to London the next day.
Pansy was sat on the end of her bed, carefully placing her uniquely ordered lipsticks inside their designated travel holsters, entirely ignoring the escalating chaos around her. Ginny was bouncing from foot to foot as she gleefully shouted lines from the training camp brochure she had received in the post earlier that week. After a few days at Grimmauld Place, Hermione's friend would be off to get to know her fellow Holyhead Harpies at a camp in Gibraltar, ahead of joining their starting line up at the end of the school year.
Hermione packed her trunk with a heavy heart; her movements weighed down with the knowledge that this was their last ever break. When the next term came to a close, they would be leaving, this time permanently.
Luna was sitting on the floor in front of her own incredibly disorganised case, singing to herself as she tried to pair up socks that Hermione was sure had ever been matching. The blonde was going away for a few days with her father, and would barely be in London a full day before she travelled to the destination he had yet to disclose. Hermione imagined Luna was determined to spend quality time with Xeno before Rolf swept her away.
As Luna's possessions reached the top of her case she gently placed in the new magical camera that had arrived for her - a gift from Rolf - sent for her to get accustomed to ahead of their trip. His accompanying note had been hugely entertaining - though, thankfully, this time not posted with any erotic supplement - as he sent love to them all from some far-flung place.
Hermione had no plans to travel, though she would not be on her own. After the article in the Daily Prophet - that the girls no longer spoke about - Pansy had declared her intention to return with her for a few days of this break. 'As a trial run,' she had said, before implying it was so she could instil any changes that were necessary before she took up residence. Hermione saw through her. Pansy didn't want her to be alone, didn't want her to be still lingering on the negative thoughts that had been stirred up inside her. There would have been a time, not long ago, when Hermione would have challenged the assumption that she couldn't cope, she would have hated anyone doubting her independence in any way. Now though she found she was grateful for the promise of company.
As an argument broke out over spilt candle wax on a silk cami, and Hermione pressed the last of her books back into her trunk and surveyed her empty area with a wry smile. One more term.
As the Express finally pulled into King's Cross, the girls exited the train compartment in a flurry of limbs before the steady chugging of wheels had even come to a complete halt. The journey had felt longer than usual, and Hermione - like the others - longed for some fresh air, and something to eat that wasn't wrapped in thick, tasteless pastry.
Hermione was the last to make her way out of the carriage, cleaning up their wrappers as she moved into the confined hallway. Now that they could legally apparate the hours cooped up seemed even more pointless than they had before, and Hermione had spent a large part of the journey cursing her earlier belief that to take the train was a somewhat romantic upholding of tradition.
When she made it onto the platform, her trunk hovering at her heels, Hermione gulped in a huge breath and waved at Harry who had an excitable Ginny plastered to his front, much to the horror of Ron. Ron was standing just to his left with a comical look of disgust on his face as he prodded his sister in her side, trying to dislodge her from her position in Harry's arms.
Hermione stood away from all of the reuniting families, twiddling her fingers in her coat sleeve as Pansy and Luna said goodbye to each other. Thankfully, she wasn't left to ponder her orphan status for too long as Xeno Lovegood approached - wearing robes as eccentric and bright as ever - and he pulled her into a warm embrace.
"Hello, Mr Lovegood, how are you?" she greeted kindly, pleased to see a familiar face.
"Well, Hermione, my dear, I am very well. Looking forward to some time with my girl before she goes off on her travels." His eyes crinkled delightfully as he looked down at her and Hermione couldn't help her grin. Much like his daughter, Xeno was one of life's truly good people, the Lovegood's could make any situation better just by being there. It was an incredibly rare trait and something that Hermione cherished.
"Luna too," she chimed in response, "she was speculating over what you might have planned over dinner last night. She's very excited."
"And I am thrilled to hear it," Xeno answered softly and he began to speak again, no doubt to ask about Hermione's plans for the holidays when their conversation was interrupted. An exuberant mother a couple of steps down the platform screeched as she greeted her son, who had grown more than she had expected while they were apart.
Hermione watched the young boy's face flush as his mother continued to loudly dote on him, before the woman turned and gestured at her husband, apparently seeking his agreement with her overzealous findings. Despite her amusement, Hermione felt an uncomfortable weight pressing against her chest, and she looked away to find Xeno turned from the same scene, regarding his daughter who was now approaching them, the pain of impending separation visible in his too blue gaze.
"I'll visit, while she is away," Hermione whispered before the girls reached them and Xeno covered her hand with his much larger one.
"I would like that, Hermione," he replied earnestly, tightening his grip. "I would like that a great deal."
Hermione nodded and moved her hand away as Pansy stepped beside her. "And you, Pansy," he continued, nodding at the most recent addition to their group of friends. "You would be most welcome to.".
"I…" Pansy faltered for a moment before her neck straightened and she regained her usual poise. "Yes, Mr Lovegood, I'll be there."
When Hermione opened the door to her flat, she just resisted the urge to collapse against the hallway wall, and instead dropped her bags to the floor. Xeno had insisted that she and Pansy join them for lunch, and as much as both girls had tried to get out of it - not wanting to infringe on Luna's time with her father - they were very plainly, though inexplicably kindly, overruled.
Hermione gripped her strained fingers tightly in her other hand as the feeling came back after lugging her bags and promptly spun on her heels to properly welcome a decidedly unimpressed looking Pansy.
"It's smaller than I remembered," Pansy said dismissively as she glanced around and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"It's a central London flat Pansy, not a country estate."
She brushed back past her static friend and shut the door that Pansy had left wide open. Hermione resisted the urge to ask whether she had been born in a barn. For one, Pansy would not understand the Muggle reference, and for two she knew that it was less the agricultural origins of the house Pansy had grown up in, and more that it had come with ample servants that affected her behaviour now.
"Come on," she scolded, huffing to move Pansy's weightier belongings next to hers, "let's get a cup of tea and then we can get you unpacked."
Hermione had only moved a couple of steps when Kreacher appeared, right in front of her, and she stopped on reflex, narrowly avoiding a small pile-up of bodies.
"Kreacher," Hermione shouted as she attempted to right herself without injury, "you scared me-"
"Sorry, Miss," Kreacher replied with a low, somewhat shaky bow.
"- I didn't expect to see you," Hermione continued, and bit her lip as Kreacher regarded her with interest. "Outside of Hogwarts," she eventually qualified, after deciding that 'in my home' didn't sound particularly polite.
Kreacher rocked on his heels with his arms held behind his back, a movement that seemed far too contented for the typically taciturn elf. "Not needed there, Miss, needed here," he said with the air of one explaining a fundamental fact to a small child. "Hello other Miss," he greeted Pansy before scuttling towards the door to grab their bags.
"Kreacher, there is no need, I'm sure you have other things to be doing," Hermione protested, unsuccessfully attempting to prize the trunks out of Kreacher's grasp. For such a tiny thing, he was decidedly strong.
Kreacher shook his head and wrenched the bag back towards his body. "Needed here," he repeated. "Master not moving into a new home till next week."
Hermione's fingers lost purchase on the handle she had grabbed when Kreacher spoke, though her arm remained static in the air, stretched out between them. "Regulus… is moving?" she asked softly.
"Yes," Kreacher confirmed, grinning widely, apparently oblivious to the warring emotions that were making themselves known in Hermione's stomach, and no doubt on her face. "Opening another great house belonging to the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Kreacher will leave Hogwarts to look after Master there."
Hermione straightened and resisted the urge to grip her middle, lest she reveal how winded she felt. Logically she knew she was overreacting and yet she was powerless to stop it. Since their last meeting, Hermione had carried on more aware of the void Regulus' continued absence left than ever. Hermione had wondered whether it was further soulmate magic, but she had refused to look it up. Regulus had disappeared, so it didn't need to be explained, or so she had told herself. Then there had been the article, and she had forcibly attempted to banish all thoughts of him, to have them appear more fiercely than ever. Now information was falling in her lap without her seeking it. It was like consuming a sumptuous meal after months of starvation, she knew she should stop herself in case it made her sick, but the calm voice in her mind couldn't dampen the explosion of taste on her famished palate.
Against the advice of multiple voices, all screaming in her mind, Hermione couldn't help but press. "What is it like? His house, I mean."
"I'm sure the young Miss will see it soon."
Hermione had no idea why Kreacher would think such a thing, in her estimation, it didn't seem likely that she would ever see Regulus again, much less his reopened pure blood manor. If anything, he appeared further beyond her reach than ever.
She had at least stopped herself from asking where it was, thank heaven for small mercies. Not that Hermione was a 'turn up without invite' kind of girl, but somehow she knew it would be worse if she found out. It was more information to torture herself with. She imagined him with Daphne Greengrass enough without picturing what their perfect mansion would look like.
Her unhappy musings were cut short when a firm hand wrapped around her upper arm and dug into her flesh. "I believe you promised tea," Pansy said, but all traces of her earlier ill humour were gone as she pulled Hermione down the corridor.
Hermione nodded. "I did, sorry I…" she glanced back at Kreacher who was stacking boxes, "I got distracted," she finished, and Pansy nodded.
As Kreacher produced a duster from who knew where and began polishing up the hallway unit, Hermione made one last attempt to discourage him. "You don't need to do that now Kreacher; why don't you come and have a drink?"
"Shut up he wants to help," Pansy interjected, pulling on her arm more insistently, "Merlin knows this place could do with it."
"Fine," Hermione grumbled, walking away from them both and heading into the kitchen. "Do excuse my plebeian Muggle etiquette."
A short while later, when they had finished up their tea and Hermione had got sick of Pansy eyeing her as if she was about to have a total breakdown, they went in search of Kreacher to find that the elf had left without a by your leave. Not that Hermione was particularly put out, only slightly distressed that it was likely not the end of Kreacher popping up at all hours, noticed or not.
The girls continued down the corridor to Pansy's room, which at one time been Hermione's library come study. After she and Pansy had agreed that she would move in at the end of the year, she had done all she could to ready the room.
"Here," she said as she opened the door, "I'm sure Kreacher has put all of your stuff away."
Hermione walked in with Pansy right behind her. The room was smaller than hers, though only just, and the decoration was somewhat different. It had taken a little while, but Hermione had eventually settled on a dark purple for the walls, with the same colour in softer hues for the bedding and darkest wood for all of the furnishings. The room was cosy, elegant and most of all, expensive looking. The pièce de résistance, at least in Hermione's opinion, was the makeup unit she had built, located on the wall behind the carved dressing table. Hermione had taken a small, old bookcase she no longer used and added a series of shorter shelves and hooks to it before mounting it on the wall, giving Pansy ample room for her sacred lipsticks and stupidly expensive brushes. The last order of business had been to install all of the additional things Pansy had purchased during their trip to London, though Hermione did not doubt that her new housemate would want to move everything around to suit her.
"Do you know what I think, Granger?" Pansy asked as she laid a hand on one of the throws at the end of the bed and glanced around at all of the new additions.
"What's that?" Hermione replied idly.
"I think you have more taste than your general appearance would lead anyone to imagine."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "There was a compliment buried in their somewhere wasn't there?"
Pansy grinned, "Maybe."
Hermione had just stuck a couple of hastily purchased pizzas in the oven when there was a knock at the door. Pansy eyed her expectantly, but she merely shrugged, she had no more idea who it might be than her guest. Well, she supposed as she walked towards the door, she should probably stop thinking of Pansy as a guest, as she was going to be living there permanently soon enough.
Hermione wrenched the door open and found Ron huddled up on the top step looking at her pleadingly. "Hey 'Mione," he began as he brushed past her into the flat, "sorry to barge in, but Ginny's at Grimmauld and well," he stumbled as heat rose up his pale neck. "Her and Harry haven't seen each other since-"
Hermione instantly raised her hands in front of herself, knowing exactly where this was going. "Please just stop and come inside," she commanded, pointing her blushing friend in the direction of the kitchen.
Hermione wasn't a prude, at least she didn't think she was, but that didn't mean she was happy to talk about Harry's sex life, least of all with Ron. She knew that some people talked about that kind of thing happily, but she wasn't one of them. Firstly, she had no sex life to speak of; secondly, the opposite sex had never been much of a consideration for her or her friends while at school, sadly they'd had more to be contending with.
At her easy acceptance, Ron brightened and sniffed the air, "What are you having?"
"Pizza."
"That take away stuff?" he asked excitedly.
"No," Hermione replied, stepping around him as the timer in the kitchen started to beep shrilly.
Ron eyed her with concern. "You didn't make it, did you?"
"Its premade, from the local supermarket," Hermione sniffed and then glared when he dared to look relieved. "I'll have you know I'm not a bad cook Ronald."
"If you say so, 'Mione."
Any thoughts of food were quickly replaced in Ron's brain when he entered the kitchen and spotted Pansy, sitting on the other side of the breakfast bar as she leisurely flipped through a thick looking magazine.
"What's she doing here?" he demanded hotly, and Hermione ignored him, heading instead to the oven where she whacked the timer a little too harshly. They can put a man on the moon, but they can't invent a timer that goes off with a cute tune? Something that welcomed you into the kitchen to collect your meal rather than demand your presence and scare the crap out of you at the same time.
"I could say the same about you, Weasley," Pansy responded airily, though her eyes retracted to slits.
"I've got every right to be here!"
"Not anymore."
"Both of you stop it," Hermione tiredly chastised as she attacked the slightly overcooked pizzas with a cutter that was a little past fit for purpose. "Ron, Pansy is living here now," she explained, and Ron gaped.
"But I thought you said that wasn't until the end of next term."
"Yes, well, we thought it would be a good idea to have a trial run, to get used to each other."
"You could have said something."
"If you hadn't just barged in she probably would have had a chance to," Pansy sneered, and Hermione sighed.
"This is ridiculous; Pansy get some plates, Ron the glasses, I am sure we can get through one meal without killing each other."
Hermione dropped the pizzas in the middle of her friends and reached out to grab the first wine glass that Ron had retrieved. Ron and Pansy were eyeing each other as if a meal in the others company was a fate worse than a grim death and Hermione knew everything would feel a million times better after the second glass of wine. At least, temporarily.
Hermione advanced through the steadily growing crush leading up to the ministry atrium, all the while revelling in the sound her new heels made against the heavily lacquered floor. Pansy had helped her get dressed that morning, and despite everything Hermione had ever said about clothes being a waste of time, she couldn't deny that she felt more commanding dressed up, and older too, which, given her overgrown schoolgirl status, was no bad thing.
Monday, the first day of her new internship and in many ways, what felt like the real beginning of her adult life. Hermione had eventually agreed to commit a week and a half of her two week holiday to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She could have almost floated away in excitement - if it wasn't for the rolling nausea she had been experiencing on and off since she had woken up keeping her grounded.
As Hermione stepped away from the main reception with a newly printed access card pressed into her palm, a familiar figure stepped out to block her path. "Kingsley," she greeted happily, "I didn't expect a welcome committee, let alone such an important one."
Minister Shacklebolt smiled and tilted his head, indicating the direction of her onward journey, encouraging her to continue walking. "I thought, as I was the one to bully you into it, the least I could do would be to come here and give you this," he explained as he handed over a styrofoam cup with a fancy logo that Hermione didn't recognise that smelt amazing. "And to take the opportunity to warn you to never drink the coffee from the canteen, especially in the morning. The food is alright, but the coffee is terrible."
"I never took you for a java snob Kingsley, this is all very illuminating," Hermione remarked as she took her first sip, delighted that the coffee tasted every bit as good as it smelled.
"You never heard it from me," he said as he tapped the side of his nose, "the ladies down there would have my hide."
Hermione laughed and fell into step with Kingsley until they reached the lifts. "May I escort you?" he asked politely, and Hermione was only too happy to agree.
"That would be wonderful."
-/-/-/-
When they exited the near groaning lift on the seventh floor, Hermione followed Kingsley through a rabbit warren of messy desks and file units until he came to an abrupt stop in front of a tatty looking door in the back corner that wasn't particularly well illuminated. After a brisk knock, a muffled summons came from within, and Kingsley turned to give Hermione a reassuring smile before he opened the door and marched inside with his casual yet commanding demeanour set thoroughly in place.
"Finola," he began kindly, and the witch sat behind the overburdened desk looked up with some surprise.
"Kingsley, I didn't expect you."
"I should imagine not," Kingsley replied, waving his arm to encourage Hermione forward. "If you see my assistant, I was never here, but I wanted to bring down your new intern. Hermione Granger this is Fiona -"
"Finola Arista Bateson," Hermione supplied gripping her now empty cup a little harder than she intended. "I read your paper advocating for the social benefits of free Wolfsbane distribution. It's an honour."
Miss Bateson looked quietly pleased before she stood and straightened her robes. Hermione tried to keep herself from fidgeting as the witch moved closer. She was, in a word, immaculate. Her soft blonde hair fell neatly to her shoulders, with a subtle sweeping wave at the front that looked as if it was natural. She wore minimal makeup, and her expression was both warm and cold all at once. Miss Bateson appeared reserved and not expressly friendly, and yet not unkind. Her eyebrows pinched, making her look assessing, but there were no hard lines around her mouth, no sneer. Hermione instantly wanted this witch to think well of her, even more than she had before she entered her office.
The Head of Department sat on the front of her desk and pushed her large, tortoiseshell framed glasses onto her head before placing her hands in the pockets of her cream, wide leg trousers. "Finola will do," she began while openly regarding Hermione. "My mother was more… floral in her name choices than I would have probably been. We are pleased to have you, Hermione."
"Thank you… ah, Finola, I am pleased to be here."
Finola gave her another slight smile and shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I have read your Hogwarts transcript and can see how accomplished you are, I am sure you will receive many offers at the end of your schooling though Kingsley assures me that this is a particular passion of yours."
"It is," Hermione replied, getting the distinct impression she was being tested. "I am not yet decided on what I want to do after leaving education; however, I have always wanted to do some good, where I can."
Whether Finola was pleased with her answer or not was a mystery, she merely looked over a document next to her for a moment before she folded her arms across her chest. "I wanted to warn you before you begin - as I tell everyone that comes to work within this department - this job is far from glamorous. I shouldn't say as much in front of our excellent Minister here, but we are underfunded, understaffed, and lacking in buy-in for our policies from the Wizengamot."
"All things we are trying to rectify," Kingsley chimed in, and Finola tilted her head in acknowledgement.
"As to what you will be doing, most of the team concentrate on assigned projects and part of my role is to review what is coming in and decide what we can and can't focus on. Matty, who you will meet shortly, helps with that. I hear you have a natural aptitude for research?"
"I have," Hermione answered, forcing herself to do so without adding a qualifier.
"Excellent," Finola responded crisply, standing from the edge of her desk and moving towards a haphazard stack of files on the end of it. "Today I want you to review existing legislation, familiarise yourself with the current landscape and what we are up against so you will be more useful in the next week."
Hermione nodded, and Finola reached to press her fingers on the end of the desk, which must have sent a signal somewhere as a couple of moments later the still open office door was knocked on twice before a smiling face poked around it.
"Matty, this is Hermione Granger she will be joining us," Finola introduced, "could you show her around?"
The newly entered Matty nodded before stepping in and opening the door wider, inviting Hermione to exit before him.
"Minister while I have you," Finola requested, and Kingsley mock sighed.
"Of course," he replied, moving to sit in one of the batted looking armchairs. "Hermione, good luck."
"Thank you," she murmured before heading out of the door.
-/-/-/-
As 'Matty' closed the office door behind them, Hermione felt her awkwardness returning; she suddenly started doubting all of her clothing choices and the ridiculous amount of materials she had brought in her bag and struggled to meet the eyes of the new person in front of her with any degree of confidence.
"So," Matty began eyeing her kindly, either not noticing or ignoring her awkwardness, "let's show you around."
At first, Hermione was slightly taken aback by his American twang, but she stopped herself from asking about it, chiding herself that of course it made sense that the ministry would hire people internationally.
"Great," she murmured and hiked her bag upon her shoulder.
"It will be over quickly," Matty said with a grin before cupping his hand around his mouth and making a show of looking left and right, "there isn't much to see."
Hermione laughed and allowed him to take her bag when he offered, grateful that it wasn't Finola showing her the ropes. She liked her new boss, but she was intimidated by her, and her nerves didn't need that on top of her existing anxiety.
Matty was by no means lying. As it turned out, the entire department seemed to comprise of the twenty or so desks that were lined up in front of Finola's office, and many of the staff were not present as they were out on assignments. Hermione shook hands with the five or so witches and wizards that were remaining in the office and took heart in how happy they all seemed to meet her when Matty explained that she was the 'extra pair of hands' Finola had mentioned in the team meeting the previous week.
He took her to get another cup of coffee, from the small kitchenette behind a faux wall and Hermione asked about the skeleton crew manning the desks.
"Finola believes that to appreciate what it is we do fully, and to truly make a difference, we have to understand the creatures and beings that the legislation we enforce and adapt protects. In my first two years here, I was sent out often to meet delegates and build a name for myself with different clans."
"How long have you worked here?"
"Six years," Matty answered with a grin, "it's not easy, but it's what I always wanted to do so…" he finished with a shrug as they walked back into the bullpen.
Hermione listened attentively as Matty continued explaining some of the more tedious elements of office life, where to get her stationary and what time was best to take a lunch break and when he finished Hermione quietly revelled in the soft murmur of quills on parchment and interoffice memos flapping around. For all that the department was shabby and littered with ink stains, it awoke something in her, a dream that she had been working towards since she was little more than a child.
"It's so lovely," she murmured, and Matty smiled indulgently at her.
"It's not much, but it is home," he said before shaking himself, "I just realised, what an idiot, I didn't even introduce myself properly." He extended his hand to her, "Matty Cooper, Muggle-born, American, Joker - in that order," he finished as waved his hands like finger guns, making Hermione laugh. She liked him instantly, there was something familiar in his half untucked shirt and ruffled hair, even though he was from an entirely different continent to her. He showed Hermione to her designated cubicle and passed over the tome of current legislation, explaining the indexing system before he ran off to complete a report, promising he would check on her later.
Hermione pulled off her coat and let her bag hit the floor before she pulled the considerable file towards herself; it was time to do what she did best.
-/-/-/-
Hermione hadn't expected her day to be fascinating, she had doubted life as an intern would mean access to the most exciting work, but she had been pleasantly surprised while leafing through the legislature archives. While the laws themselves were often written in such antiquated speech that they were almost unintelligible, and in such demeaning terms to make her blood boil, she noted quickly that her reading material - in most cases - comprised of original copies, and as such had all of the argued terms and previously suggested amendments notarised within their pages. It was engrossing and gave considerable insight into not only the legal process within the wizarding world but also the difficulties the department was facing with regard to change. Finola had been right; the Wizengamot was not looking to make their lives easier.
As she turned the next page over and her eyes skimmed the prefacing section notes on Merpeople and their status in law she was interrupted by a large hand falling on her shoulder.
"Come on, Granger," Matty said, using his grip to pull her away from the desk, "time to go."
He had his coat on she realised, and a glance over to the charmed window showed that somehow it had got to the end of the day without her noticing.
Hermione glanced back to her half-completed file and grimaced. "But I've not-"
"You've not moved for six hours," Matty interrupted, "no one was expecting you to finish all of that today. Frankly, it's a miracle you've stayed awake. In any case, an internship is about more than just the work, it's about working life, and one of the most important things you learn about office life is that when the boss declares it's time for the pub you get your coat."
Hermione spied Finola over Matty's shoulder, locking the door to her office as she shouted over to the back of the room to 'rally the troops', and nearly fell over him in her haste to not be left behind.
Hermione had happily chatted with Matty the whole way to the departments preferred pub, not paying much attention to where she was going after they took a side street off Diagon Alley. 'The Sherlock Holmes Tavern' was loud, cramped and decidedly Muggle. She raised an eyebrow at Matty who merely shrugged. "A favourite with the team, Finola likes to avoid other ministry types when she is out of the office."
Hermione pulled off her coat and set about zigzagging her way through the Monday night drinkers. "Understood."
-/-/-/-
Hermione spent most of the evening chatting to a wizard named Howard, who she imagined was around the same age as Arthur Weasley. He had been working in the ministry for most of his career, in many different departments, and while he was not the most dynamic man she had ever met, beneath his slightly bumbling delivery, she found him to be well informed with a very dry sense of humour. He also asked her about helping out with some research he was completing on house elves the next day, which got her genial agreement.
After a couple of hours, Hermione could feel the fizz that she had been handed warm her chest and fuzz her brain, and despite the good time she was having she decided it was best to call it a night and sought out Finola and Matty who were standing propped up against the bar.
"I'm going to head off," she said, having to shout over the rowdy crowd making orders, "thank you for everything today."
Finola emptied the remaining dregs from the latest bottle of prosecco into her glass, "A wise choice."
"I'm looking forward to being back tomorrow!" Hermione said excitedly as she dove into the pile they had made of their belongings, smiling in thanks when Matty stepped over to help her into her jacket.
"Would you like me to walk you?" he offered but Hermione shook her head, she was looking forward to decompressing after her first day.
"No, I'll be fine," she replied, "thank you, though."
Hermione left the pub and glanced around to get her bearings, stepping carefully over the cobbles in her new shoes until she reached the bright lights of the main street. In spite of the late hour, or the way her feet pinched or how tired she felt she was smiling. She couldn't believe that she had done it, she had done her first day, and it wasn't horrible, and even the broader team seemed to like her. She never fitted in, not at first, not ever, it was likely the best first impression she had ever made.
Hermione was looking forward to closing her front door and having a cup of tea, hopefully catching Pansy before she went to bed so she could reassure her friend that she was fine. She had left in a bit of a tizzy that morning, wound up and convinced she was going to fail, for once it would be lovely to admit - out loud no less - just how wrong she had been.
It was as if the universe knew she was elated beyond reason as it was at that precise moment, as she turned a corner that there, regarding a dimming shop window on the other side of Diagon Alley, was Regulus Black.
Hermione's feet reacted first as she came to a complete standstill as her brain raced to catch up and decide what to do. Her initial impulse was to ignore him completely, and it was probably what she would have done without the two glasses of bubbles and general happiness coursing through her system. Instead, a paltry greeting fell through her lips unchecked.
"Regulus?"
His dark figure span and faced her, chasing away the little prayer Hermione had been clutching - that she had been mistaken - that it might have been some other tall, dark, dangerous, impossibly chiselled wizard. No such luck.
His shoulders seemed to tense, just the slightest of fractions before he was facing her, both of them remaining stuck still, ten feet apart. If it had been daytime, they would have had a river of people flowing between them, masking all of the reactions on their faces, but it was dark, and there was no one. No one but them.
"Miss Granger," Regulus replied eventually, and Hermione was struck by the impression he was holding himself back from bowing which would have made her laugh if it hadn't made her wonder if he had stopped himself to avoid offending her sensibilities, or because he didn't think she was worth it.
She didn't know what to do, walking away seemed rude, and she knew she didn't have the self-possession to do so in a way that would make her look unaffected and aloof. The oppressive silence and distance continued, and Hermione pulled her coat around her chest tighter, as her brain wired.
"Is everything…" Regulus finally said before he paused and changed tack. "Are you well?"
Hermione hated him for a moment, a sharp barb of white-hot fury lanced through her core so unexpectedly it was all she could do to hold in a gasp. She hadn't seen him since he demanded to walk her back to the castle after his insisting she helped him with a task that hadn't allowed her to sleep for a week. Guilt, the kind that she had suppressed enough to carry on after the war had leaked back to the front of her mind as she had regarded Professor Snape's portrait and Regulus hadn't even sent a bloody note.
"Yes, I am well," she replied, biting back her almost automatic thank you.
His head tilted as he regarded her and Hermione imagined her static conversation was something of a surprise. She was never one for holding a thought in her head, especially with the wizard in front of her. He made her trip over herself and speak even more than was standard for her.
"That's good," he replied stiffly and adjusted his stance, straightening his legs a little. "You look… different."
Hermione looked down at herself, regarding her medium height heels and a dark blue dress covered by a military-esque coat with large brass buttons. "Not in school uniform I suppose," she murmured, and Regulus took a step forward.
"That would be it," he replied though he didn't seem to mean it.
Hermione's jangled nerves had lasted as long as they could, and grace or no grace she knew she needed to exit. So much of their interactions up to this point had been on his terms, and while it was hardly Regulus' fault that they had bumped into each other, Hermione didn't want to wait until he retook control.
"Well, nice seeing you," she said weakly, "I should be-"
"Are you heading somewhere?" Regulus interrupted, taking another step across the width of the empty street. "I could take you-"
"It's fine," Hermione said quickly, "I wouldn't want to impose on you, no doubt you have many things of your own to attend to."
A ghost of a smile pulled at Regulus' lips, and Hermione tried to pretend that the effect wasn't devastating. Damn him.
"You couldn't impose Miss Granger," he said in a low voice before he looked around the deserted alley. "I wanted to come and speak to you. I did wonder if you may have-"
Though whatever topic Regulus had planned was cut off.
"Hermione? What are you still doing out here? It's getting late."
Finola's heels clicked over the uneven cobbles as she walked across to Hermione's side and eyed Regulus warily for a moment. "Come on," she instructed softly, "I'll walk with you to the Leaky Cauldron, you can get the Floo from there. It's not safe out at night."
Hermione looked over her new bosses shoulder and locked eyes with an impassive-looking Regulus. There was a tension between them, a different kind than what had been there before and Hermione didn't have a name for it.
Keeping her unspoken promise to herself not to apologise during their latest surprise encounter, she raised a hand and gave him a slight wave. "Goodbye, Regulus," she said as Finola began walking away, "good luck with the move."
If Regulus was shocked by her good information he didn't show it, he didn't show much of anything. He regarded her quietly for a moment before he replied.
"Goodbye, Hermione."
She couldn't remember if it was the first time he had used her given name. Then he was gone.
-/-/-/-
Hermione almost had to skip to catch up with Finola, though she wasn't hard to miss in her dark pink cloak. When she finally fell into step behind her, Miss Bateson looked down and shook her head, though she seemed faintly amused. "And here I thought I would be restricted to teaching you about the potential perils of life in the ministry."
"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked bemusedly.
Finola sighed, "Hermione, there is nothing on this earth more dangerous than a young boy as attractive as that, especially when they are looking at you the way he was."
Hermione didn't make a reply, mainly as she didn't know what to say. She hoped Pansy was still up; there was going to be a lot for her to fill her in on from the day. Hopefully, her friend would be able to help her interpret what the hell Regulus had been about.
Finola glanced back behind them at the now empty alley, and her eyebrows pinched. "Hungry that's what I would have called it, the expression on his face," she mused. "Say, he's not a vampire, is he? Only an in with a London based representative would be advantageous for a bill we are passing just now."
Hermione's mouth opened and closed for a moment, unsure whether or not she should laugh until it became clear that Finola was in no way joking. "No," she replied once she regained her voice, "not a vampire, just dark and elusive is all."
"Ah, well," Finola sighed, "you can't win them all."
No, Hermione thought, you really can't.
A/N: Hello lovely people. Sorry for the delay, I was on holiday and then sick (yadda yadda yadda). I hope you have all had excellent starts to the Holiday Season! Not long till this bloody year is over!
Fancasts: Finola Arista Bateson - Gillian Anderson / Matty Cooper - Andy Samberg
