Chapter Twelve

Tuesday

Never was a person less anxious to enter the Employee Entrance of the Ministry for Magic than Hermione Granger early that Tuesday morning. Despite Thorfinn sending her home at her regular time the night before, she had a fitful night's sleep. Unnerving dreams and difficulty falling asleep made for a very long night. She wondered if she had gotten used to sharing her bed with a man in just the previous two nights. It had been an easy routine to fall into after all.

She was thankful that there were very few Ministry officials wandering through the Atrium at that hour. Being the center of attention was wearing on her nerves. It brought to mind the uncomfortable weeks during her fourth year when Rita Skeeter seemed out to get her. Times may have changed. She might have been over a decade older than those days, but she was still living at the mercy of the horrid beetle animagus. How Skeeter had been able to survive the turbulent times of the Voldemort controlled Ministry was beyond Hermione's understanding. The woman was known for cultivating enemies everywhere she went and those had been dangerous, uncertain times.

The lift was empty when the doors opened. For over two weeks now she had been unable to step foot into any of the Ministry lifts without her thoughts drifting to the burly blonde wizard who had so recently wormed his way into her life. Hermione still had trouble believing how quickly their relationship had progressed. She was used to either taking an eternity for a potential mate to make their move or engaging in unsatisfactory interactions with strangers that wouldn't give her the time of day once the sun rose. Thorfinn had been unexpected and as of that morning, she still had not come to regret their new relationship.

A flying memo whizzing around her office caused Hermione to jump the moment she opened her door. She never expected the myriad of rubbish Ministry memos first thing in the morning. Very few people were even in the building. Remembering the last time she disregarded a memo, she snatched the piece of parchment out of the air the first time it buzzed by her head.

Please come to my office the moment you arrive, my girl. And don't think about pretending you're not already here. I know your schedule. –Kings

Despite Kingsley being a dear friend, she was nervous about their meeting. Every step that brought her closer to his ornate office on Level One only caused her anxiety to strengthen. She was well aware of what he would want to speak with her about. Part of her had been very surprised that Kingsley hadn't dropped by her office the day before along with just about every other man in her life. Likely his busy schedule hadn't allowed adequate opportunity for a proper chinwag. No doubt catching her right as she entered the building was his way of ensuring he would get a chance to hear all of the sordid details straight from the source.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," greeted an annoyed Gemma Farley when Hermione arrived in the reception area in front of his office. "Minister Shacklebolt is expecting you."

Hermione found the woman's behavior both puzzling and amusing. They had never gotten on, but for the life of her, Hermione didn't understand why. They were only at Hogwarts together for one year. It couldn't have been old school issues that caused the older witch to dislike her so. Kingsley specifically requested she come. It wasn't like the last time they met when she forced herself into his office without permission. Hermione filed away a mental note to ask Thorfinn what he knew about the woman. They were both Slytherins in the same year. Maybe he would have some insight in to why she hated her.

She pushed open the large door to find Kingsley seated at his desk enjoying his customary morning scones. With his mouth full of the blueberry pastry, he waved her over to join him in one of the empty chairs in front of him. As soon as he swallowed his bite of breakfast, Kingsley smiled broadly at his visitor. He at least seemed pleased to see her enter.

"I picked up a chocolate chip scone just for you," Kingsley announced as he pushed a small plate across the desk.

"Wasting no time going straight for my weaknesses, are you, Kings?"

"I have no idea what you are implying, my dear," he answered unconvincingly with a wink.

Hermione picked at the scone. Damn the wizard! He had been bribing her with chocolate in all its forms since the summer before her fifth year. After a couple of bites of the delectable treat that definitely could not be considered a proper breakfast, Hermione sighed and blurted out her thoughts.

"I'm assuming you wanted to speak to me about all of the excitement on Sunday? Get it 'straight from the horse's mouth' as the Muggles like to say."

Kingsley squirmed in his comfortable leather chair, the grin present on his handsome features only moments before completely absent.

"Partially, but mostly I'm worried about you, love," he responded with an almost condescending tone Hermione loathed. She felt almost like she used to as a Hogwarts student when he would attempt to educate her on certain aspects of wizarding culture she didn't understand. If Kingsley's heart wasn't in the right place, she would've stormed out. "You have not been yourself in… well, years."

"I've grown up, Kingsley. Weren't you the one who told me that we all grow up and we don't always become people we like?"

Kingsley sighed. Obviously this discussion was not going as he planned.

"You're depressed, Hermione. Plain and simple. No arguments. I know that we don't always address issues with our mental health quite as well as they seem to do in the Muggle world, but it seems obvious to me."

"Thanks for the diagnosis, Kings. I feel so much better."

She did not even attempt to hide her sarcasm or her eye rolls at his statement. She didn't need some Pureblood wizard with limited experience outside the protective cocoon of wizarding society explain to her how Muggles would see her problems. It was almost insulting. Coming from anyone else she might have been tempted to jinx their mouth shut.

"Don't be snarky," Kingsley replied, his tone still steady and calm. "I'm only trying to help. How long have you been stuck in your horrible job now?"

"Eight years," she muttered.

"And how many times are you going to continue to turn down a better position when I offer one?"

Hermione could feel her exasperation with the Minister begin to spike. He knew how she felt about cronyism. That had always been a serious problem within the walls of the Ministry. Hermione resolutely refused to be a part of such a system.

"I don't want to just be handed a job I didn't earn, Kingsley. I thought I'd made that clear by now."

Kingsley's frustration was evident. It was always the same every time he brought up this familiar subject. Hermione could almost hear him grinding his teeth across the desk.

"I have two things to say to you in response," he began. "One, this is how politics work. You reward those who are loyal to you, and two, you've slogged away eight years in that horrid, little office to make your subdivision more efficient and productive than it has ever been. What makes you think you haven't earned a better position?"

She had no response. Damn it, Kingsley! He was one of the most persuasive men she had ever known, and at times, she had been an eager, willing victim to his blatant manipulations. How else could she explain her permanent spot on the committee to plan St. Mungos' Children's Gala each year? Kingsley was a smooth talker, but she refused to go against her principles.

"If the office has been improved so much, why haven't you offered a better job to Matthew? He's the unit supervisor after all."

Kingsley actually groaned out loud at her question.

"Kettletoft is a boil on the arse of this Ministry," he spat. "I can't stand him. He is scheming, unscrupulous, lazy and quite frankly, a cad. I would have him fired in an instant if I could prove any wrongdoing. Sadly, he's too sneaky.

"Towler and I have discussed this issue on more than one occasion. Now, I did not tell you this, but Kenneth has been quietly digging into his work record for something he can use to get him fired. We have to be very careful in how we proceed, however. Kettletoft's mother is a Smith. One of the Hufflepuff Smiths."

Hermione was very surprised by that bit of trivia. How had she never known that about his family? It seemed the very thing he would proudly announce and use to his advantage. Despite not being very well liked, the Hufflepuff Smiths had a great deal of influence on their society. At least it finally made sense why Matthew was Sorted into Hufflepuff. He was believed to be a direct descendent of Helga Hufflepuff.

"Very powerful family," Kingsley continued. "They could prove to be difficult if this isn't handled correctly."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you as far away from him as possible! I do not trust the wizard. The head of the Ludicrous Patents Office on Level Seven is contemplating retiring soon. I would love to make you his assistant so that when the time came for him to retire, you could take over the office."

Hermione had always been fascinated by that office. Her ears definitely perked up at the offer. She had always found the Ludicrous Patents Office to be whimsical and loved all of the research that it required. Many had no desire to step in the office for that very reason, but research had never been a deterrent for Hermione.

"I promise to think it over, Kingsley. Thank you."

"Now if you will excuse me for being impertinent, could you tell me what in the buggering hell happened on Sunday?"

It was a struggle for Hermione not to laugh at his eagerness for juicy details. He was a terrible gossip.

"When I read the classified report, I was shocked. Thorfinn Rowle, Hermione? Weren't you just in here recently whinging about his parole? How does he end up naked and hexed in your flat?"

Hermione bit down another laugh at his exuberance. Kingsley wasn't angry, merely curious. There were likely to be very few allies in support of a potential relationship with a former Death Eater. Kingsley was right at the top of that short list. Hermione was half-convinced he would still believe her incapable of doing wrong if she rose to power as a Dark Lady and began marking her own murderous minions.

"I've recently discovered another side to him that I did not expect," Hermione admitted.

"Do you believe he can make you happy?"

Hermione did not hesitate to nod her head in the affirmative. Kingsley's bright, wide smile crossed his face again. He stood up from his chair, wiped the blueberry scone crumbs off the front of his robes and moved to stand in front of his visitor.

"Then I suppose I can accept and support your decision, love. I may not like it, but if he can perform a miracle and bring back the happy girl I used to know, I will learn to love him too."

Kingsley leaned down to kiss her cheek. Moments later Hermione was exiting the Minister's office. The former Slytherin prefect was still glaring in her direction. Hermione wondered once again what she could have possibly done to anger the woman so. By the time the lift deposited her onto Level Four, all thoughts of Gemma Farley disappeared from her head.

With very few of her coworkers brave enough to speak to Hermione, the rest of her Tuesday passed with little to no excitement. Matthew was in a mood, but she was determined to not let him bother her. Every time he came into her office with more work, she simply took it without complaint. She knew that he loved when she got upset. If she refused to show him how annoyed she was becoming, he would most likely leave her alone for a while. It was encouraging to know that there were others in the Ministry who were not fooled by his act. She only hoped that Kenneth would find something solid he could use against him soon.

Part of her wondered if she could submit the multiple incidents of harassment she had experienced from him in just the last few weeks alone. In the Muggle world she would have been protected from any kind of retribution for reporting that kind of behavior in the workplace. Not so with Wizarding Britain. Just like with Kenneth and his sexual harassment, she would be more likely to get into trouble for reporting Matthew's bad behavior than he would. Unfortunately, it would be a he-said, she-said situation. Pensieve memories could be doctored and the allegations were not serious enough to warrant Veritaserum.

Just before eight that evening when the department was almost completely empty, Hermione was startled by the sudden arrival of a delivery owl. Interoffice memos cut down on the need for owls through the massive underground office building, but they still were required for certain types of outside mail. During regular hours all post owls were stopped at the uppermost level and their mail delivered by a less messy process. After hours when no one was there to catch the incoming owls, the birds were free to fly around the building.

Hermione,

Please pass this note to Thorfinn as soon as you are able. It is important. Thank you again for offering to forward my notes on to him.

Reina

Surprised that Reina had not used her offered messaging services until that evening, Hermione slipped the sealed envelope into her robe pocket. There was likely no way she would be able to leave the confines of the Ministry without being stalked by Thorfinn first. Not that she minded of course. Their activity on top of Matthew's desk still made her cheeks flush and her body excited. If the horrible man only knew what was happening on that smooth surface less than twenty-four hours earlier…

She was able to distract herself from more stimulating fantasies by focusing on the last stack of parchment Matthew placed on her desk before he left. The chime marking the half hour mark gave her all the incentive she needed to stop. Thorfinn must have thought it wiser to finish his work on the Level before he spoke with her to prevent a repeat of the night before. They had been reckless. It was lucky that they hadn't been caught.

Thorfinn was waiting for her at the lifts with a welcoming grin. After a quick glance around the level to make sure there weren't any nosy coworkers still lingering about, Hermione reached up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. His hands instantly clutched her back, pulling her close enough to kiss. When they broke apart a couple of minutes later, they both took a deep breath.

"I've been looking forward to that all day," he declared, his wink making the witch blush.

"I hate that we have such different schedules," she replied. "The weekend will never get here."

She reached into her robe pocket to remove the letter from Reina. Thorfinn examined it before slipping it into his own pocket. Apparently his sister's missive could wait.

"Today any better than yesterday?" Thorfinn asked. Concern was etched across his face. He was well aware how awful the previous day had been following the damned newspaper article.

"Much. Kingsley and I had a nice chat this morning. He wants to move to the Ludicrous Patents Office to be the assistant head. If I accept, I will take over the office when the current head retires."

"That sounds like good news to me. Anything to get you out of this office, huh? Are you going to accept?"

"I promised him I would think it over."

Every moment the lift moved between Level Four to Level Three was spent in a heated snogging session. They were like teenagers again, unable to keep their hands off of the other. The excitement of the fear of getting caught was heady. Hermione kissed him firmly once more before the doors closed shut. She promised him that she would go straight home and think inappropriate thoughts of him in the bath.

Her flat felt strangely empty when she was there by herself. It had never felt that way before. She made herself a light, late dinner, eating it over the sink like she did most nights. A long, hot bath was what her strained limbs and back needed. She couldn't stop giggling at Thorfinn's order to think about him. As if she could ever look at her bathtub in the same way after their very pleasurable Sunday afternoon bath. All of her future homes would have to have a bathtub at least as large as the one she currently owned.

Once she was clean and in her pajamas, the time was past eleven. She was exhausted. Moments after her head hit the pillow that still smelled faintly of the man who used it just a couple of days earlier, Hermione was deep asleep.

A loud pounding interrupted her dreams. At first she thought she was dreaming the sound while she lay there in the dark of her bedroom. The clock on her nightstand showed a quarter past midnight. Surely no one would be knocking on her flat door. She closed her eyes, convinced she was hearing sounds that did not exist. The pounding became even louder and more frantic.

She had her wand clasped firmly in her hand when she threw open the front door. Whatever she was expecting to find on the other side of the door was certainly not Thorfinn holding a silently crying five year old little girl. Reina stood just a couple of feet behind her elder brother clutching her younger daughter. Hermione could only imagine what brought the only remaining members of the Rowle family to her doorstep in the middle of the night. A quick glance down the corridor showed a concerned Pasha standing in his pajamas watching the action. She hated that whatever was happening woke her patient neighbor.

"Thorfinn, what's going on?" she asked.

"I didn't know where else to take them. I'm sorry," he answered.

"No, it's all right."

Little Amelia Smith was clinging to her uncle's neck, her tiny body shaking with frightened sobs. Reina shifted Lucy from one hip to the other. The movement revealed a bright red mark across her tear-streaked face.

"Hermione, is there somewhere we can put the girls while we talk? I don't want them to hear," questioned an embarrassed Reina.

Pasha stepped closer to the family huddled in the corridor. He met Hermione's eye.

"I have empty bedroom," he announced.

Thorfinn turned to stare at the Russian wizard. He remembered seeing him from the dramatic Sunday afternoon events. After a cursory exam, he rotated back around to face Hermione.

"Princess?"

"I trust him with my life," she replied with no hesitation.

"That's good enough for me."

Pasha opened the door to his flat to allow his visitors entrance. Once inside the spacious home, he led the siblings to the spare bedroom he only used when his parents came to visit from Russia. Hermione stood with him just outside the door watching Thorfinn and Reina put the young girls to bed. Lucy was almost asleep when Reina removed her shoes and pulled the bedcovers up to her neck. Amelia, however, was still crying and seemed reluctant to let go of her uncle. Thorfinn whispered soothing words to his niece as he ran his hand up and down her back.

"Shh, it's all right, sweetheart," he crooned. "Uncle Finn won't let anything else happen to his girls."

Hermione fought the urge to cry right along with the poor girl. Just what in the hell had happened? She was growing anxious for an explanation. Reina was tipping a small amount of potion into Lucy's mouth. She moved over to where Thorfinn was still holding the frightened girl to coax a little of the liquid into Amelia's mouth as well. It only took a few more moments of soothing words and touches from the girl's mother and uncle before she fell asleep.

Pasha inhaled sharply and clenched his jaw when he saw Amelia's neck. Harsh, red welts covered the little witch's neck and jaw. The anger emanating off of the usually gentle wizard surprised Hermione greatly. She had never seen him so upset. Thorfinn pulled the covers up to Amelia's neck. He dropped a tender kiss on her forehead before exiting the bedroom.

"Thank you," he said, extending his hand to shake Pasha's. "It's been a difficult night."

Reina stepped out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her. Pasha smiled brightly when he got his first clear glimpse of the woman. She immediately blushed causing the large red mark on her face to stand out even more on her porcelain skin.

"Reina?" asked Pasha.

She smiled and immediately nodded.

"Have you both met before?" Hermione asked, confused by the exchange.

"Yule Ball," Pasha answered. "She wore purple dress and she was so kind to shy boy from Russia who stepped on her feet all night."

"Wait, you're Pasha? The Pasha?" Thorfinn asked with a chuckle.

Reina immediately smacked her older brother in the arm when his laughter started. Thorfinn wasn't bothered at all by the violent gesture. With a broad grin on his face, he turned back towards the Russian wizard.

"All my sister spoke about for a bleeding month that next summer was 'Pasha says this' and 'Pasha likes that'. 'Pasha says in Russia'… I got bloody sick of hearing your name, mate."

His sister was mortified by his falsetto impression of her voice. Pasha simply smiled, his own cheeks bright red. Thorfinn spun around to address his sister.

"You couldn't have married this one instead?"

Both Reina and Pasha were embarrassed by his question. Hermione hid a smile. She thought they were both adorable. Thorfinn stepped close enough to his witch that she was able to put an arm around his waist. She tried to pull him a little further away from the others when she saw Pasha point to Reina's marked face.

"Is it spell or hand?" he asked in a low voice.

She whispered 'hand', but couldn't meet the wizard's eyes. Hermione could feel Thorfinn tense at the admission. Pasha pointed his wand towards his bathroom and muttered a quiet incantation. A small jar flew across the flat straight into his hand. With more care than Hermione had ever seen anyone apply a potion, Pasha covered the mark on her face with a liberal amount of cream.

"Will sting a bit, but should go away soon."

Hermione turned towards Thorfinn to take any additional attention away from the humiliated woman.

"What happened?" She tried to keep her voice down low.

"The piece of shite she married wasn't content to just slap his wife around. Hexed his five year old daughter when she tried to stop him hurting her mum."

He didn't even try to lower his voice. His anger was too strong. Reina immediately began to cry as he explained further just what had happened that night. The note from Reina was asking him to come to a Muggle café nearby the Ministry as soon as possible. There hadn't been a lot of details, but Thorfinn wasn't an idiot. He could read between the lines that his sister was hiding with her daughters. As soon as he read the note he lied to his supervisor about feeling sick. Because the wizard was a hypochondriac, he sent Thorfinn home immediately. He cleaned all of the remaining levels of the building with a single spell.

"Proving once again my job is fucking pointless."

Finding Reina had not been hard. He had eaten at the very café she mentioned once before. His sister and nieces were huddled in a booth over a dismal dinner. It took several attempts before he was able to discern from his sister that they were needing somewhere to hide. Reina had to threaten him with a full body bind to prevent him from rushing off to find Zacharias. She had already cursed him after he hexed Amelia. He was thankful for the lesson on how the Muggle underground worked. Without it, he wouldn't have known how to get to Hermione's flat on his own.

"I didn't know where else to take them," he repeated.

"You will stay here," stated Pasha.

Reina tried to argue, but the man was determined.

"No, you and girls can stay in my extra bedroom. My flat's much bigger than Hermione's. No one would think to look for you here. You will be safe here."

The exhausted woman immediately began to cry. She thanked him between her muffled sobs. Pasha was hesitant in touching the woman. When he placed a soft touch on her arm, she visibly flinched. Hermione could see his jaw clench in sheer anger. It seemed that Thorfinn wasn't the only wizard in that flat wanting to murder the Smith scion. Only Thorfinn's request that additional wards be added to his flat broke Pasha out of his homicidal reverie. Agreeing wholeheartedly with the blonde, Pasha led them both to the front door to begin the process.

Reina shifted uncomfortably in place when she was alone with Hermione. It was apparent that neither woman knew what to say.

"I'm so sorry," apologized Reina. "This is all my fault."

"No, Reina, it's not," Hermione replied firmly. "It doesn't matter what happened. He had no right to hurt you or your daughter."

"You must think me terribly weak."

Hermione physically bit her tongue to prevent any unkind words from escaping. Yes, that was exactly what she had been thinking. She had never been able to understand why abused women stayed with their spouses. Certainly she couldn't imagine she would stay if she found herself in a similar position.

"Zacharias fancied me when we were at Hogwarts. I thought he was annoying. Didn't help that he was a year younger than me. After Thorfinn's trial, I lost all of my friends." Reina snorted. "Guess they weren't really my friends after all. I'd been working in a little shop in Diagon Alley. Zach showed up one day and was actually friendly to me. No one had been kind to me in so long that I just clung to him. A bit desperate, really.

"In the beginning he was so charming and sweet. I think a part of me fell in love with him simply because I was so lonely. It wasn't until after we got married that he changed. Started trying to prevent me from seeing Finnie. He never touched me with a firm hand until after Lucy was born. Even that started off gradually. I didn't have anywhere else to go. Zach threatened to take our girls away if I ever tried to leave. You know how influential his family is."

Hermione nodded her head. She was all too personally aware of how much sway the Hufflepuff Smiths had. It was infuriating and something she hoped would soon change. Maybe if it became known that Zacharias was nothing but a worthless wife and child abuser, they would be less respected.

"All I had was a Death Eater brother locked up for life in Azkaban and an elderly recluse of an uncle who's going to die any day now. I have no money. I didn't do very well on my N.E. except for Charms. I didn't know what else to do. I felt stuck."

Hermione wiped tears off of her cheeks. Reina's tale was horribly sad. She felt a great deal of sympathy for the older witch. Suddenly her problems didn't seem as important when she thought about Reina. Her silly little problems were just that, silly. It was a disturbing realization to her that she didn't really know what was going on in other people's lives. She felt guilty for feeling so depressed when her life really wasn't that terrible.

"Reinie, I think you should try to get some sleep," Thorfinn suggested. "It's been a long night."

She allowed her brother to pull her into a crushing hug. They broke apart moments later. With a hesitant smile to both Hermione and Pasha, Reina disappeared into the room where her girls were already fast asleep. Thorfinn extended his hand once more to the Russian wizard to thank him for all of his help.

"I will keep them safe," Pasha promised. "No man should hurt his family like that."

Thorfinn and Hermione left the wizard's flat moments later. Once inside the safety of her home, she begged Thorfinn to stay the night. The final train of the night had already left by that time and she didn't think that either of them needed to be alone. Mostly she didn't want Thorfinn to return home to find an incensed Zacharias waiting for him. The location of his flat wouldn't take much effort to find. Thorfinn didn't even bother to protest. He was content to stay there with his witch next door to the other witches we loved.

"You aren't going to go after him, are you?" Hermione asked the moment they were both settled in her cold bed.

"I really want to, Princess," Thorfinn retorted with a sigh. "But it's no use. If I didn't have to worry about what would happen to them if I was arrested, Smith would already be dead."

Hermione snuggled into his chest, relishing the feel of his muscular arm around her petite frame. She couldn't blame the man one bit. Part of her wanted to seek out the man and kill him with her bare hands. How could he hurt the ones he was supposed to protect and love the most?

"If I'm arrested, they have no one," he continued. "I can't do that to them. Smith will get his, but we will do it legally."

"I'm so glad you are thinking clearly. No one would blame you if you weren't."

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. It was extremely late. Hermione didn't even want to know what the clock said, but neither of them seemed ready just yet to go to sleep. They were both too keyed up by the night's events.

"You should go back to your flat tomorrow and pack a bag," Hermione suggested. "Come stay with me for a little while. They'll be right next door and you won't have to worry about Smith dropping by unannounced."

"Asking me to move in already, Princess?" he teased. "Aren't you concerned we're moving a bit fast?"

Hermione snorted. He could make her laugh like no one else could.

"It's temporary and there are extenuating circumstances. You annoy me too much or start leaving wet towels on the floor, you're gone."