Hermione nearly collided with several Ministry workers in her mad dash back to the lobby. She skidded to a stop at their table and shouted, "I found us a job!"

Out of breath, she bent over to rest her hands on her knees. Snape merely stared at her for a moment and then replied, "We have jobs, or have you come to love sitting at this table so much you consider it a hobby?"

"No! Different jobs, better jobs! Come see!"

He glanced around her, saw no approaching visitors, and shrugged. "Very well. Lead the way."

Hermione scurried back towards the hallway where she'd just come from. In her attempt to get over her embarrassment, she'd ventured deeper into the labyrinth than she ever had before. Their destination was several levels down, in a twisty-turny hallway that tapered down to single-file width. Behind her, Snape kept pace. Finally she found the notice board that had caught her attention on her earlier exploration. She jabbed the paper with her finger and said, "Look!"

Snape leaned in to read it, and Hermione bounced on her toes. This could be the solution they needed! A way to pay off their debt while putting their minds to better use than welcoming visitors.

"'Volunteers needed for experimental potion testing'—are you deranged? That's a terrible idea," he said after a moment.

"Not that one! This one!" She pointed to the plain gray flyer just next to it.

Hiring: Intelligent, discreet witch or wizard for classified work in undisclosed locations. Applicants must have earned an O in a minimum of six NEWT courses and be in good standing with all local laws, regulations, statues, etc. Lack of spouse, children, and/or other living relatives a plus. Available to start immediately upon hire. Inquire with Dr. Hinklespar, Level Nine.

"See? It's perfect!" Hermione clapped her hands together and beamed at him.

For his part, Snape seemed reserved. "This is the vaguest and most alarming job post I've seen in my lifetime," he murmured. He looked at her. "Level Nine is the Unspeakables, Hermione."

"I know. Just think—I bet they're looking for people to hunt down rare artifacts and apprehend evil wizards!"

"Have you been reading adventure novels again? They're more likely looking for test subjects for—whatever it is they test in the Department of Mysteries." He shuddered, then pointed to the page. "Lack of living relatives—use your brain, Granger. Why else would they have listed that?"

Hermione sniffed and lifted her chin into the air. "You don't know that's what they mean."

"You don't know it's not."

"But—"

"And did you fail to notice the line that reads 'in good standing'?"

Hermione could feel her enthusiasm deflating as his unfailing logic set in. "Yes, well, I mean, we are in good standing, except for the whole debt-to-society part." He raised his eyebrows at her. "I saved Harry's arse a bazillion times, that should count for something," she muttered, defeated. She crossed her arms. "Fine. It was a terrible idea. Forgive me for not wanting to spend two and a half more years at that stupid little table!"

She intended to brush past him and storm off, but the narrowness of the hallway meant that she had to turn sideways to get past him. Even then, with both of them sideways, they were mashed together from shoulder to knee as she wriggled and tried to shove her way through. Her aggravation only escalated when she looked up and saw that he was definitely trying not to laugh at her.

She got free of him with a sudden pop and would have fallen if he hadn't grabbed her elbow to steady her, a kindness which ironically only brought tears to her eyes. She took off at a jog as the tears started to gather, leaving him behind in the gloom.

Hermione continued staring blankly ahead as Snape rejoined her in the Atrium some twenty minutes later. Her tears had dried but her roiling emotions remained. He took his seat next to her, his movements utterly familiar to her by now.

"It's just that this isn't exactly what I'd envisioned when they said I'd be 'the face of the Ministry'," she said softly by way of explanation.

"I'm just grateful they didn't spell my face onto a statue to greet people," he muttered.

Hermione could only muster up a half-smile at that. "Look at you, with an attitude of gratitude. How refreshing."

He snorted and tapped his fingers on the tabletop. "I certainly don't wish to fritter away the next few years dealing with every dunderhead who walks through these doors. However, I am skeptical of any job having to do with the Department of Mysteries. I apologize if my reluctance has dampened your spirits."

"No, you're right, of course. It's just the first posting I've seen in this place that didn't seem like trading one bit of drudgery for another, you know?" She slumped back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. "Maybe I can take up a second job writing for the Prophet, or something."

"Horrifying. You'd be better suited volunteering as that potions test subject."

Hermione grinned and started to get into the spirit of things. "I could open an apothecary."

"Too much liability."

"Go back to Hogwarts as a professor."

"Too many children."

"Become a world-renowned potions master!"

"Not as satisfying as it sounds."

"Take up dancing in Madam Rosmerta's hush-hush upstairs afterhours?"

"How do you know—never mind." He grimaced. "Why not, oh, I don't know, present yourself to the Aurory and show them your abilities?"

Now it was Hermione who grimaced. "And have them quiz me on when and how and why? I don't think so."

Snape turned to study her. "Being a strong witch with exceptional talent isn't a fault, you know."

She turned her head away from the ceiling to stare back at him. "It's not exactly lauded, either."

Snape acknowledged that with a slight head tilt. "Be that as it may. I should think that with Potter and Weasley's support, you could easily find a role within the Magical Law Enforcement department, or yes, Hogwarts."

Hermione considered this, then shook her head. "Thank you. But I'd rather stay out of the public eye for a good long while. The boys are still being sent on random public appearances whenever the Ministry deems it beneficial, and I can't imagine being able to curb my tongue as much as they'd want me to if someone started in."

"Well, good thing you're hidden away from the general public now," Snape deadpanned.

Hermione laughed, and she felt her tension ease. He had a way of soothing her—not by sugarcoating her situation, but by being bluntly realistic. She couldn't put her finger on why it helped her so much, simply that it did. And for that, she was grateful for this particular desk assignment. She was on the verge of telling him just that when he spoke again.

"So, if you won't tell the Ministry, might you at least tell me how to wrangle a wand?" he asked hopefully.

Slowly, she sat up and turned to face him fully. She quirked one eyebrow when she asked him, "You want me to teach you how to wrangle your wand?"

He flushed and pinched his lips together in embarrassment. Hermione started laughing and had to gasp for air, but she finally managed, "Surely you received plenty of practice as an adolescent!" before falling into more fits of laughter. Tears were running down her face, and every time she glanced at him, she started laughing again. Snape was glaring at her but she couldn't help it. Eventually she trailed off into a few chuckles interspersed with hiccups. She wiped her eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Are you finished?"

"Wrangling your wand? I haven't even started." At his fulminating scowl, she broke down into hysterical laughter all over again. She was still laughing when a stream of visitors came through, and it was up to Snape to check them all in and direct them. A few gave her odd looks but most seemed reluctant to make eye contact, which only served to make her laugh some more.

By the time their guests had dwindled down, Hermione had more or less regained her composure. Snape was mutely ignoring her as they cleaned up their table for the day. They walked together to the lift, Hermione still pleased with herself and Snape still silent. It wasn't until they were exiting to the street that he leaned close to her and said, "At least now we're even. And for what it's worth, should you ever have the opportunity to wrangle my wand, I can guarantee that your knickers will Once. Again. Be. Damp."

Her jaw dropped open and she watched in utter shock as he strolled away, chuckling to himself.

A/N: Thanks to FrancineHibiscus for the 'wrangle the wands' comment!