"You need Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Level Three. And, er, best of luck with—that," Hermione stammered, gesturing at the giant Venus fly trap that had sprouted out of the man's forehead. She made a notation on the blotter in front of her and then glanced up at the next person in line. "Good morning, welcome to the Ministry of Magic! How may I direct you today?"
So went the rest of the day, until twenty-seven after five rolled around and Hermione clocked out. She rode the lift up to Whitehall and merged seamlessly with the streams of Muggles on their way home. While she walked, she contemplated what she would do for supper tonight. She'd had Thai takeaway last night, and Greek the night before that. Perhaps tonight would shift back to Italian? Not that she had a schedule, per se, simply... Well, simply that cooking for one was a bit depressing, and pointless to boot. Why bother when there were so very many delightful little restaurants on her way home?
Except, did it make her pathetic if she was resorting to takeaway every night? "No, it doesn't matter," she said sternly to herself, ignoring the woman next to her who looked appalled at her sudden outburst. Sighing, she turned and navigated towards Grimmauld Place, instead.
"Harry? Ginny? Kreacher? Anyone home?" Hermione called as she entered Number Twelve. She hung her jacket on a hook near the door and headed for the stairs. Entering the kitchen, she saw Luna sitting on the table, meditating.
Since she'd learned long ago to leave Luna to her zen, Hermione busied herself with making tea. She sat at the far end of the table and idly flipped through a few horticulture journals while she sipped. Eventually, Luna straightened and her gaze focused on Hermione.
"Hello," Luna said, unfolding her legs and hopping off the table to fix herself a cup of tea as well.
"Hi, Luna," Hermione answered. "Is anyone else home tonight?"
"I'm afraid it's just me," Luna replied, settling down next to Hermione. Too close, if Hermione was being brutally honest, but then again Luna didn't seem to understand personal space and Hermione was too tired to remind her.
"Another public appearance?" Hermione guessed.
"What else?" Luna replied, somewhat grumpily. Hermione smiled. Ron's constant absences left Luna all out of sorts, now that they were dating. "At least I hear Constantinople is miserable this time of year."
Hermione seriously doubted that was true, but she knew better than to argue. Ever since the end of the war, the Ministry had been demanding more and more of Ron and Harry's time. While Hermione did not precisely love her current role, she still thanked her lucky stars that she hadn't been assigned public appearance duty like the boys.
"...and a niffler a day, I always say," Luna finished. Then she sighed and turned to Hermione. "But enough about me. Is your job going any better since you started taking the crushed anemone supplement I gave you?"
"Er—no. I mean, yes. The supplement has helped immensely, Luna, thank you." Hermione schooled her expression into one that she hoped looked genuine. She had learned the hard way never to ingest anything Luna provided.
"It's certainly improved your complexion," Luna noted.
Hermione forced her smile to remain as she gritted out "Thank you." Then she exhaled sharply. "I don't know, Luna. It's just that I'd imagined doing more, being more. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."
Luna nodded sympathetically. "I'm sure they'll relent soon. It's been nearly three years, that certainly ought to be enough of this nonsense."
Hermione hummed her agreement, but inwardly, she doubted the Ministry would let her off the hook that soon. She had destroyed Gringotts, after all, among other...indiscretions. Filling in as the official greeter at the Ministry seemed like a relatively small price to pay, all things considered.
Luna stood and gathered her tea things. "Oh well. At least your assistant will begin soon, and then you'll have someone with which to pass the time."
Hermione spewed out the sip of tea she'd just taken. "Assistant? What?"
"Didn't they tell you?" Luna asked. Hermione glared while she mopped up the table. "I take it from your face that's a no. How typical. I'm sure it was merely an oversight..." She trailed off and glanced around, clearly looking for escape.
"Who?" Hermione whispered.
"I'm sure I don't know," Luna replied, scooting towards the door.
"Who?" Hermione repeated, standing now.
"I'm probably wrong—there's no reason you would need a protégé—this has all just been a misunderstanding!" Luna called as she bolted out of the kitchen and fled up the stairs.
Hermione pressed her fingers to her temples. Maybe she did need that crushed anemone after all.
A/N: This was an abandoned sshg_giftfest 2019 fic for madeleone...I regret that I didn't finish it then, but inspiration is coming back to me now!
prompt: 6-Severus and Hermione both work at ministry (doing whatever you like) and both hates his/her job. The two run into each other and start venting about their jobs. They decide to start their own business together, romance ensues. Would prefer it be something different, ie: not potions or teaching.