Chapter Four

The Woes of Mrs Granger-Weasley

'Please sit, Mr Potter will come soon,' said Eleanor.

It was the end of the day and the Auror Office was almost empty. Only half a dozen cubicles were occupied when Hermione entered the quarters to meet Harry. Usually, lack of familiar faces did not disturb her, but that was not the day. She looked around like a hunted animal and with nowhere to run Hermione followed the offer of a young assistant and settled down in an armchair near the door to Harry's office. Calm down, perhaps, he asked you to discuss the case.

Hermione was nervously tapping her knees. With Ron already at home and Harry busy, Hermione did not feel welcome there. Aurors were not a smiling, easy-going lot. Some of them even cast unpleasant glances at her. Members of Security team, I suppose.

Three days ago Kingsley and Robards broke the news about the latter's retirement. And Harry's promotion. As she expected, Gaunt took it hard but still professionally. On Monday's evening Ron came home and, roaring with laughter, imitated Gaunt's red face. Blimey, Mione, I thought he would blow up! Although Gaunt never showed his true feelings on the matter, Hermione suspected that within his team he was more open with anger as they all now looked daggers at her. Imagine how they treat Harry.

Guilt again stirred in her mind. I am the reason he agreed. Memories of the last Sunday pursued her and she did not know how to evade them. While they were in that cursed outhouse, Hermione banished any thoughts and feelings she may have had on the matter. But once she and Ron opened the door to their flat she could no longer hold back her emotions and almost ran to the bedroom, where, curled up, released her tears. I've done nothing wrong. But still they treat me not better than a Death Eater.

People always called her smart but now her brain failed her. Hermione did not understand. Two years ago when everything was still fine she had lunch with Harry. Back then he asked her a very simple but yet a tricky question. What is evil, Hermione? And now, feeling unkind looks of Aurors and remembering cruel words from Ginny, she was thinking that her concept of evil did not correspond with reality anymore. Am I the devil in the room?

Luckily for her, the door to the next office burst open and she could not answer her question. Hermione saw Tiberius McLaggen, his whole composure alight with malice. Like his nephew, Tiberius was a high, broad-shouldered man whose sizes and intimidating eyes could force everyone flee from his way. Hermione knew that he wanted to run for the Minister in seven years and for a second she was frightened by the prospect of crossing him. Yet she was not the type. On the contrary, one of the many things Hermione learnt back at school or even earlier was that whenever she would face resistance, she would have to push harder. Until they step back.

McLaggen noticed her and with a nasty smile walked to Hermione.

'Mrs Granger… or, sorry, Mrs Granger-Weasley,' he mentioned her second surname with a smirk. 'Although it is always a pleasure, but what are you doing here?'

Hermione raised and with a polite smile said, 'I need to discuss the Mould attack with Potter.'

It was another trouble that bothered her. Two days ago they learnt about the first werewolf attack in what seemed like five years. Two children were bitten during the full moon and brought to St Mungo. Harry who was in charge of this investigation requested information on all registered werewolves from her. McLaggen's face twitched in sadness.

'A complete disaster! Hopefully, Wizengamot will reconsider the Magical Origin Act,' his face grew stern then. 'We should have known better than grant these beasts the right to live among us freely...'

'Although it is very unfortunate, Tiberius, I don't think that the actions of one werewolf must cast a shadow over all of them.'

'And this is where I had to disagree. Your concept of… greater good, lacks empathy, I must say. Good words but nothing behind. Tell this to the parents of the boys. You will certainly learn a lot of new things about you,' Hermione wanted to contradict but Tiberius was not a huge fan of discussion. 'I would gladly chat with you but, unfortunately, have to run. Send my regards to your husband.'

And with a spiteful smile he made his exit. Hermione watched his back for a second. Perhaps, he is right. Two broken lives. Magical Origin Act, which she drafted and proposed in first place, guaranteed that every magical being had equal fundamental rights. One of these rights was the freedom to choose the place of residence. Hermione knew that many wizards were appalled to the idea of equality between 'healthy', as they called themselves, and werewolves. But she believed that the time was all they needed to get on terms with this. Hermione believed that what she was doing was a good thing, but this brief encounter with McLaggen made her doubt it.

'Oh, I see you had the pleasure of meeting our most noble Head of DMLE,' chuckled somebody near her. She turned her head and saw Harry who emerged from Robards' office.

'Nothing but charming,' said Hermione silently. Harry nodded and addressed Eleanor.

'Could you please send this memo to Arthur? And please remind him that we need his statement by tomorrow.'

Eleanor, a young assistant of the Investigative Division, nodded solemnly and took the files from Harry without any question. Harry opened the door to his office and with a wave of his hand and a smiled 'please' invited Hermione inside.

She had not been there for almost a year and from the first glance nothing changed. The very same wooden desk which all Aurors had. Ron once told Hermione that all Aurors had the similar one but nobody, apart Aurors, of course, knew that every each of them was enchanted. The drawers will open only to the owner of the desk or his partner. So mine will open only to me and Harry. Hermione personally found it useful. All Aurors kept piles of classified information on suspects, their location, evidence and informants and it would be quite unfortunate if these documents appeared in the wrong hands.

The very same low window sill behind Harry. Magical Maintenance found it appropriate to set up a sunny pinewood landscape and for a second Hermione thought that they were in the Forest of Dean. Harry captured her gaze and said. 'Yes, it is. Privilege of choosing your own view,' he smirked.

Hermione was puzzled. Harry grasped an unspoken question and replied after lowering in his desk chair.

'Dunno,' he took the time to think. 'My wand broken … We are completely alone and forgotten … Skeeter's book about Dumbledore … Nowhere near to find the next Horcrux or how to destroy it,' Harry swallowed and went on. 'But then Ron comes and the doe… the sword,' Harry shrugged again and smiled at her warmly. 'This forest was a breaking point in some sort of ways…'

His words almost punched her. And here we are, ignoring each other for a year. Something deep inside her wanted to speak with Harry freely. She almost fell into his words like in a trap. Do not make life more complex. Coldness and distance.

'I see they took it bad,' she said matter-of-factly while sitting down in the comfortable chair in front of his desk. If Harry was surprised by the topic change, he did not show it.

'Oddly enough, no. All congratulated me, even Jeremy's team. And you know them. A couple of words is already an achievement. John's men seem more restrained but still they accepted it.'

Hermione looked back.

'It seems they do not like me.'

Harry chuckled.

'I forget you are not used to common Aurors' arrogance. Some of them still remember 'there are more ways to do the difference in the world than being just an Auror'. You hit the nerve, I'm afraid. Punched us in our pride.'

Hermione relaxed and grinned.

'Yes, you, Aurors, have a long memory.'

Harry's face widened in a grin and he looked like he wanted to say something but Hermione did not want this casual talk to continue.

'And yet you forget that you asked for the werewolves files.'

Harry's face was blank and she could not see any emotions there. She wordlessly handed the folder to Harry. With one brief nod Harry started analysing the information.

Ignoring the problems, playing out the situation as nothing really happened was something she never was good at. When facing the issue she always tried to crack a nut… but this awkward silence, on the contrary, seemed to only enlarge this nut. He doesn't want to talk about it. He hasn't discussed it for years.

Hermione was listening to noises of turned pages. As Deputy Head Hermione supervised the Being Division. Twelve nights a year cannot make a human being a beast, Preston. Her Department's Head, Preston Greengrass, agreed with her reasoning and now all werewolves were controlled by the Being Division instead of the Beast Division as it used to be for centuries. Hermione had to implement a huge number of precautions to make her aim come true - to grant all those inflicted with lycanthropy the right to live freely among other wizards and to prohibit discrimination based on their decease. Enjoyment of these rights and freedoms was put under the condition of registering with the Werewolf Support Office. Once entered into the register a werewolf was obliged to take a portion of Wolfsbane potion once a month. The potion itself was provided by the WSO for free. Additionally, the WSO officials inspected the living conditions of each werewolf and could request every one, who did not have a protected room at their homes, to spend the full moon in the special WSO facility. Those who preferred to stay at home, lying in their beds in the wolf form, had to extract memories of the night and send them to the WSO the following morning. This was the guarantee that no one would ever become inflicted. Hermione secretly dreamed that theirs would be the last generation who would see a living werewolf in Britain. And here we are. Two little boys.

When they introduced the draft Magical Origin Act to Wizengamot, Tiberius McLaggen was strongly against their initiative. What makes you think, that they all will be willing to register with the Ministry? For ages they wanted to stay hidden. And now you claim we will all live together like one big family. And that was when she saw a lot of heads nodding. Mr McLaggen, when they have nothing to fear, they have no reason to hide. Her appeal to experience of Muggle-borns was decisive. The majority spoke and the Magical Origin Act was enacted. Now all werewolves had decent jobs, they were even admitted to the Ministry and she personally had two of them in her department. One of my greatest triumphs.

Her chain of thoughts was interrupted by Harry.

'So, no one could do this,' he said matter-of-factly. 'But somehow these boys were bitten.'

Hermione inhaled deeply. Yes, no one could. And that was the problem. On Monday night during the full moon seven werewolves stayed at the WSO facility and could not attack the boys in Mould-on-the-Wold. Others were at homes. All were provided with Wolfsbane potion in advance and all sent their memories as usual. After the inspection was over, the WSO concluded that there was nothing suspicious.

'Then we must face the reality,' muttered Hermione grievously. 'Somewhere lives an unregistered werewolf.'

Harry raised his eyes and Hermione for the first time noticed something glinting there. Is it the prospect of hunting down a werewolf that causes this enthusiasm?

'My team has questioned everyone in the town. No one noticed anything.'

'Who have you assigned to this case?'

'Phil and Stewart. Phil once served in Werewolf Capture Unit, he is in charge.'

Hermione nodded. With all the recent changes and lack of attacks, Werewolf Capture Unit was for long unused and eventually closed down a couple of years ago. Some of its ex-employees went for the Aurors as there was nowhere else for them to go. They have profound experience in capturing dangerous species and, frankly speaking, either could not or simply did not want to do anything else. Being an Auror was their only chance to remain in the profession. Yet now they captured not werewolves but smugglers, fraudsters and some other minor criminals.

'What have they found out so far?' asked Hermione politely.

'Nothing,' said Harry bitterly. 'They questioned parents, boys and neighbours. I can send their yesterday's report to your office,' Hermione nodded and muttered 'thanks'. Harry went on.

'Nobody heard or saw anything. At the moment we do not know who it was and, which is more important, have no lead.'

'What are you going to do next?'

'Go there myself,' said Harry and looked at her. His eyes almost asked her, whether she wanted to go with him. They almost pleaded with her to accompany him. Hermione personally wanted nothing more to go with him. But… She already has Ron wrapped around her finger. Surprisingly for herself Hermione nodded. Boundaries. Know your boundaries.

'Keep me informed.'

She raised and with one brief stolen glance at Harry left for the door. Hermione grasped the handle when she heard a cough. She looked around and saw him still sitting and piercing her with his gaze.

'Would you like to go with me? You are the best person I know… in this werewolf thing.'

Actually, he asked. This is different.

'When do you want to go?'

'I need to finish my paperwork on Peasegood. Tomorrow morning, I suppose.'

'Good. Meet you there. Send a patronus before you go.'

'I can fetch you, you know,' he smiled. Hermione almost sweared. This overcomplicates everything. But yet if she declined it would be extra rudeness and she was not ready for it.

'Fine.'

And then she left. While she was making her way to her department, Hermione thought hard. It was easy to blame Ginny. At least she made it open. Previously Hermione pitied her sister-in-law. Her perfect life turned out as imperfect - no career prospects, no harmony with Harry, no way to go. Previously Hermione thought that Ginny was strong enough to overcome these difficulties. But with time the difficulties became problems. Being the only daughter in the family and being Harry's wife put Ginny under enormous pressure. Ginny was a strong person and strong people … They don't change, they break. Ginny knew that she was broken as she tried to varnish her life as though it was a shattered vase.

It was also easy to blame Mrs Weasley. The latter invaded her marriage thick and fast and Hermione was close to beg for mercy. She did not know how to defend herself in such matters. 'Do not pay attention' did not work anymore. Comments, opinions, looks attacked Hermione's values and ideas regularly. Even Ron despite his anger and infuriation could not help. His mother attacked his wife. His wife thought low of his mother. And he was in the middle. Hermione saw that this rivalry tore him apart and tried not to deteriorate his position. But in the while Hermione was like a besieged fortress and her food and water supply ran short. I must be better than this.

When she stepped from the lift on the fourth level she appeared in a vast square sunlit hall. Golden streams coming from enchanted windows reflected in yellow and sandy tile, so Hermione's department looked like a greenhouse. Perhaps it suits the place.

They truly welcomed everyone. Every creature, every passerby. Wizards, goblins even a couple of house-elves and werewolves worked there to keep the peace among all of the dwellers of wizarding Britain. But this peacekeeping was closer to Hermione than the one of her husband. That was peacemaking by action. Like McLaggen said … One big family.

She walked past half a dozen counters with witches and wizards welcoming visitors. Behind them were lines of benches divided by long and arched flowered beds. Hermione noticed little yellow birds flying around.

The hall was a waiting and sitting area for all the visitors they had during the day. And Hermione's department dealt with dozens of visitors every day. The welcoming witches and wizards inquired them on the purpose of their visit and the division they needed. Once the purpose had been clarified the visitor went to one of the four sides of the hall lined with french doors. The left side was occupied by the Being Division. This was the place for the WSO, Goblin Liaison Office and House-Elves Bureau. The front side was taken by the Beast Division headed by Amos Diggory. There were doors to Centaur Liaison Office, Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau, Ghoul Task Force, Troll Patrol and Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. And the right side was a place for the Spirit Division, Pest Advisory Board and Office of Misinformation.

While Hermione was crossing the hall everyone looked at her. She wanted to hide behind the WSO doors before everybody would start to stare at her and her downtrodden mood reflected on her face. It was me who made this attack possible. Her colleagues at WSO was adamant to find the attacker, they checked all the memories, records they kept on all werewolves. Everybody knew that time was working against them. This attack enjoyed vast Prophet's coverage and was a topic of the week. The more time went, the more inhabitants of Ministry of Magic believed that the regulation of werewolves had to be stricter. Amos Diggory already suggested relocation of WSO back to his division. Hermione wanted to think that her employees shared her beliefs and did not do their job just because they needed to. Sometimes when she was sitting in her office, a wily thought penetrated her head. What if all they do, they do because I ask them to? What if they do not believe in it? What if they secretly despise my course? Hermione had good work relations with all of them, but still she had no friends. And having no friends meant having no guarantees.

With a couple of nods and brief encounters with some of her colleagues, Hermione entered the WSO open area and set directly to Selina. Selina Fawcett was two year older than Hermione and worked in the department after her graduation from Hogwarts. She entered the former Werewolf Registry Office per recommendation of Amos Diggory himself who she knew as a good neighbour since childhood. Now with the transfer of all werewolves-related offices to the Being Division, Selina was responsible for maintaining the records on werewolves living in Britain. Hermione personally found Selina quite good at her job and despite the latter's very odd sense of humour was satisfied with her performance.

'Selina!' called Hermione. Selina, who was idly wandering the office with her eyes, turned her head and noticed Hermione's gesture towards conference rooms at the back of WSO. Selina nodded and followed Hermione. When the door closed both women sat at the round table. Hermione summoned a bottle of water from the buffet.

'Have they found him?' asked Selina while Hermione was drinking. She only shook her head in answer.

'Shit… Sorry,' she murmured to Hermione.

'Leave it. Harry and I will go to Mould tomorrow but I guess we will achieve nothing, … I had a thought,' Selina nodded and Hermione went on. 'Werewolves just do not fall to us from clouds, do they? They are bitten. And if we have a werewolf out there, then there must be someone who turned him in.'

Selina got her point quickly.

'So, you want to know of any attacks and victims?'

'Yes and no,' said Hermione. 'If we have known about the attack, the victim would have been in the Register. But he … or she is not. What we must do is to collect information on attacks for the period prior to the Act. As unfortunate as it can be, but some of them did really bite him … or she.'

In the WSO it was an unspoken belief that women could not be werewolves as they were not aware of any female being bitten and transformed. Personally, Hermione did not like the idea of a woman being a werewolf. The life of inflicted with lycanthropy is a severe one and she did not want this fate fallen on woman's shoulders. But yet the possibility remained and Hermione did not exclude it. Even if nobody has done it before, it doesn't mean it won't happen in the future.

Selina thought about Hermione's words. And when she realised what Hermione implied, Selina shook her head in resistance.

'But you know, he could be bitten twenty years ago. Or fifty. He could live in shadows up to now. How do we know what we look for? He could be bitten by Greyback himself.'

Hermione exhaled.

'Yes, there is still the chance of it. But think about it! Even if they were bitten many years ago, why nobody noticed? Why nobody sent a word to us about strange behaviour of their neighbour? Did they take the Wolfsbane Potion? Then they must be quite talented at potions and must be rich as the ingredients are expensive.'

Selina sat in a chair and was thinking almost loudly.

'But he could live even without the potion. For centuries werewolves had managed without it. He could live in isolation.'

Yes, that's possible. There was a chance that some of them preferred hiding to living openly. After the Act was enacted they had to persuade a lot of werewolves to come to the Ministry. Hermione personally had to speak with dozens of them. Fears are easy to create and hard to dissolve. It took almost a year to make them enter the Register. Years of wandering around the country with this ridiculous Auror protection Ron insisted upon. They must see I'm not afraid of them, Ron. Only then they will walk with me freely. They had a lot of heated discussions about the issue. And what if they attack you? What if they think that they're trapped and have nothing to lose? No way, Mione! Eventually, Hermione had to go to John Gaunt who was in charge of security measures. Thankfully, he agreed with her reasoning. Ron was furious with her and Gaunt but the job was done. And that was the only thing that counted at the end of the day.

'Perhaps, we can ask other werewolves. They used to live in packs. They know each other. They hold for each other. Perhaps, some of them know about their brother out there. Tell them that they must speak to us or it will be Aurors. And Aurors are not so friendly.'

Hermione shivered at the thought of Phil Barter, ex-Werewolf Capture Unit officer, questioning one of the werewolves. She knew that Harry made it his mission to change the Aurors' interrogation techniques but some old habits, Hermione knew it very well, lay too deeply to be extracted. Judging by Selina's face, her colleague agreed with Hermione. She had first-hand experience with Aurors' manners. During Scrimgeour's times Selina witnessed how they dealt with werewolves back then.

'Yeah, these idiots would ruin everything we've done here with one interview. No offence to Potter, he's mild, but Barter? He came here this morning, you know?'

Hermione was surprised.

'Why?'

'Requested the records,' Hermione raised her eyebrow at that. 'Don't worry, I told him you took it and would deliver to Potter today. He got mad at first,' Selena grimaced. 'This is our investigation. We don't need your help', and so on. Only when I slipped that it was Potter's request, he shut his mouth.'

Hermione was relaxed. Back to the times when Hermione was looking for werewolves, Harry stepped back and said that the issue of her security was between her and Ron. Harry claimed that he would not overstep his boundaries and therefore never pushed her. Hermione knew that he secretly supported her in her choice of actions but could never show it openly because of Ron. Harry remembered Remus's shabby clothes and fears about Teddy's future all too well. That made him always support the new attitude towards werewolves.

'Harry will cover us for it, but he won't be able to do it in the future. We need to do our part quickly before Auror Office steps in. Would you manage to speak with all of them by Monday evening?'

Selina considered the tight time range for a moment.

'I would need to engage Ethan and perhaps Helen. With them I think we manage.'

Hermione nodded.

'Fine. Then take them. But keep your actions low. The last thing we want now is the Prophet to know about it,' Hermione got angry at the memory. They already make a show of this case. 'And considering their attacks against the bill, we don't want to strengthen their grip.'

The reception her House-Elves Rights Bill got from the Prophet the other week was another issue Hermione did not want to think about.

'Of course. I'll tell you tomorrow where we are.'

Hermione nodded and they left the conference room. Hopefully, some of them speak. Unfortunately, Hermione knew that werewolves were not so eager to name their brothers. They are still afraid. There was no point in denying it. Hermione herself was frightened that one day grim-looking men would appear and take everything she had created so far.

Hermione left the WSO and moved to her office located between the House-Elves Bureau and Goblin Liaison Office. She walked to her assistant, Jacob, who was busy with lots of scrolls, memos and letters lying around his desk. Having checked that everything was in order, Hermione took her correspondence and entered her office. She did not have either a low window or an enchanted table but still she found her place rather comfortable for her and respectable for visitors. Everything was made from light wood and bore an imprint of gracefulness and elegance. When she just got the position she asked Magical Maintenance to remove old-fashioned dark wooden heavy table, high leathered chair and other staff that had more in common with a sweaty balding man than with a twenty two year old woman with no heavy sense of self-importance. The only sign of her status her office held was the framed Order of the Merlin hanging behind her. Hermione, Ron and Harry received theirs two years ago on the Fifth Anniversary. Ron's was at home, Hermione had hers there and Harry's… Only Merlin knows where Harry keeps it.

Once Hermione sat down at her desk, she touched a small harp standing on the surface and the harp started its sad and calm melody. Now everything is tuned. Time flew fast while she was reading the memos, reports and other correspondence. So when Hermione heard the knock at the door she briefly glanced at the watch she panicked. Oh, Merlin, it's already eight!

Interested in who it could be, Hermione welcomed the visitor in. She was surprised to see Harry.

'Decided to drop the report in person,' said Harry and Hermione saw the folder in his arms.

'Thanks,' said Hermione and grinned. Unnecessary visits… Almost like in good old times.

'Are you done for today?'

Hermione looked at the enormous pile of documents all over her table and considered the tomorrow's trip to Mould-on-the-Wold which would take half of the day.

'Need to finish the last letter,' said Hermione. 'Care to wait for me?'

Harry grinned.

'Absolutely.'

Hermione returned to her parchment, smile covering her face. One more moment like this and… She did not know exactly what she would do. Or what she would not do. She did not know anymore. And that was something that really troubled her. Why have you said this? But one walk won't do any harm.

Yet uncertain about her own words Hermione returned to the response she started to write before Harry went in. Still she like many other women and unlike many other men could do two things at a time. Therefore while she was writing a polite yet stern refusal, Hermione could notice that Harry was eyeing her office. How come we became this type of friends who have to cover the changes in each other's lives instead of starting where we left? Hermione did not like the answer. It was hard to blame herself or Harry. It was the circumstances, she continued to convince herself. Yet her brain was much sharper than this.

Harry did not move his head and Hermione knew what he lingered on. There was a big frame on one of the walls containing a front page of Daily Prophet issued seven years ago. The headline said: THE BRAVEST MAN I KNEW: In Memoriam of Severus Snape by Harry Potter.

Hermione knew what made Harry write this article in the first place. It kills me to think that everyone will remember him as a murderer and a coward. Hermione was nothing but proud of Harry for this gesture. She knew how difficult it was for him to go into public and yet he did it for the man he loathed for years. Professor Snape would be happy about it. Especially coming from Lily's son.

When Hermione heard the full story of Severus Snape, she was shocked. The bravery he was capable of was something that amazed her to the day. Everyone despised him. And yet he went on. Even despite knowing that he would never see Lily Evans again. The kind of bravery she was jealous of.

Somehow Harry became the very synonym of her fears. There was a lot hidden behind the surface and their friendship endangered this heavy yet peaceful silence hanging over Hermione's life as an axe. She used to be discreet and open with her best friend and deep inside she knew that Harry would understand her fears and would help her give them the last decisive battle. And she was afraid that in this battle a losing side could be her life and her accomplishments. And she postponed.

Hermione put a period in her response, looked it through and pleased with the result raised her head. Harry was still looking at the frame, almost bewitched by the words he had once written.

'I'm ready,' said Hermione firmly but her words had no effect on Harry.

'You know, I always question myself,' he said deeply in thought. 'Why has he never told anyone? Why keeping this to himself? It would have been much different. Everything could have been much different.'

Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

'Perhaps, he was so deep in his role that he could not open his mind anymore. And by the way, he did not do it for you or any of us. He did it for her. She was not there to listen. Why bothering yourself with opening your soul if we are not Lily?'

Hermione could notice tears standing in Harry's eyes. She averted her gaze as she felt awkward to witness raw emotions of her best friend. How come we became this type of friends? Harry turned his head to her and Hermione was startled by the pain in the eyes.

'I don't want to write the same obituary for you, Hermione.'

His straightforwardness was something she was not prepared for.

'If you continue to be so thrilled about hunting down a werewolf, perhaps, it will be me who will write an obituary.'

Harry laughed bitterly.

'You know, I like this game. The game when you play dumb, but you know that I know and I know that you know that I know,' Harry's smile vanished.

'And what is that you know?' asked Hermione with a faint lightness in her voice. No way Ron has told him. Ginny wouldn't either.

'That people who used to be close to me as brother and sister are now strangers.'

Hermione took her time. That was your doing after all.

'I understand you, Harry. But that's life. Things change. We grow up…'

Harry pierced her with a gaze.

'Funny that of all people it is you, Hermione Granger, who tells me to take the life as it is.'

I'm Granger-Weasley now.

'I don't tell you to take it. I only urge you to see that it's not as it used to be. And perhaps we should not wait for our childhood to return. Perhaps, we must find the comfort in what we have now.'

'Perhaps,' Harry swallowed. 'There will come a day, Hermione, when we are so deep in our roles of busy, estranged adults living in parallel worlds that we will not be able to open our minds to each other anymore.'

Tell me something I don't know.

'It was not me who started this. And I can't say it was you. Circumstances, Harry. We don't spend our evenings in the common room in front of the fireplace, we don't go to the same classes. So, yes. That's life, Harry.'

'It was not the circumstances…'

Then name it… and be done with this farce. Looking at Harry was enough to understand that he was contemplating speaking out his mind and his loyalty. Hermione saw his struggle but did not want to make it easier. All in all, it was hard to blame Harry. Apparently he did not do anything. He tried to keep the peace at all costs and remained silent. But at the same time, his lack of action was something to hold him responsible for. Harry did not set up his boundaries and this made Hermione exposed. He did not defend himself and now Hermione had to pay for it. Never in her worst nightmare she could have imagined that it would be Ginny she would be most afraid of. So, Hermione watched him and kept her mouth shut.

'What is evil, Hermione?' he asked innocently. And yet his simple question hit Hermione as though she was caught red-handed with ten bodies lying around her.

'Harry, I'm a bit tired for riddles. If you want to say something, then say it for Merlin's sake.'

Harry pursed his lips and raised up.

'Fine. Then I'll go. Sorry for the disturbance,' he said so quickly that Hermione had to take a moment to comprehend all his words. And when she grasped it properly, she became infuriated. She also stood up and pointed her finger at him.

'No way! No way you coming here again and doing this! No way you ever cry like a little boy for our good time in the past and throw your accusations at me!'

'Hermione, I never…'

'Never what, Harry? Never shunning your friends who… how you put it? Ah, yes! 'Used to be like brother and sister'! Never explaining yourself? I'm tired of being the devil in the room! I'm sick of it! All these years I kept silence for you! I thought you were not ready. But then again, how comfortable it is, I presume… you come here and accuse of being distant with you! How dare you, Harry?'

Harry raised an eyebrow.

'If you have any problems with guilt don't put in on me. I never accused you of anything. For all I know it's me who should ask for forgiveness. All I wanted was to speak openly. And for that I'm sorry.'

Hermione calmed down a bit. Why now? Why inviting me to go with him? Why this talk? We lived in peace.

'Perhaps, we don't need to discuss anything. Some things are beyond repair. And we must accommodate to them.'

That was everything she could think of since Sunday. She did not know how to make her peace with Ginny after everything she heard and she did not know how to treat Harry after everything he could have done and did not do. Perhaps, this promotion was a mistake. Perhaps, everything is a mistake. Perhaps, I should have agreed to Minerva's offer and just work at Hogwarts.

'No way,' smiled Harry humbly. 'As Kingsley said, I'm the one who can do what is right in dire times. It's time I fit this description.'

Hermione looked at him and for the first time saw a torn boy and not a Senior Auror afraid of his wife. She almost pitied him.

'Unfortunately, Harry, I'm not ready for this. Now is not the time. I'm not ready to open the wounds and look into them. There will be no answers there. Only pain.'

'Funny that of all people it is you, Hermione Granger, who tells me to avoid the truth.'

'I'm Granger-Weasley now.'

Harry regarded her for a second.

'Yes, you are,' he nodded and turned away. 'See you tomorrow.'

When comes the proper moment? After all, I need to tell him. I can't tell him I was there. Why? It's ridiculous. Harry is hurt. Yes, he is the one to blame for it. But he is my friend. When Hermione dived out from her thoughts, she understood that she was alone in her office. She opened the door and found the deserted dark hall. No one.

When she returned to her desk, Hermione immediately touched the harp and relaxed when she heard its usual sad melody. Some years ago Hermione understood that she was afraid of silence. The silence which came when she returned from her thoughts, plans and dreams. The silence which came at home when they had nothing to discuss with Ron. The silence which entered meetings with colleagues when no one seemed to say a word after her proposals. The silence which lived in her office and never left.

What if I fail? I put a lot of things at risk. My marriage. Ron never complains about my schedule but now we almost a have a wall between our worlds. Good relations with my mother-in-law. I know that whatever I'll do I'll be criticised. My friendship with Ginny. It has been dying for seven years now and after Sunday… I believe that was a fatal blow.

Hermione remembered Harry's face when he was leaving the office. Emotionless. Just like me. Hermione was afraid of silence and somehow it was silence which served her as solitude from her fears.

I'm evil. Molly is unhappy because of me. Ron is secretly unhappy because of me. Ginny is openly unhappy because of me. Those two boys were bitten because of me. A lot of people lost their job because of me. What if I'm wrong? What if everything I do creates more problems than it solves? What if I don't differ from Grindelwald who fought for the greater good? Oh no! No, no, no …

She hated Harry for the question he asked as his question was the reminder of what everybody thought of her. Evil. Unfitting. Harmful.

Hermione took the special parchment for inter-departmental mail, scribbled a couple of words and with a flick of her wand a paper aeroplane swooped into the air in direction of Auror Headquarters. Hopefully, Harry will come in his office before he sets off.

Yes, Hermione Granger-Weasley was afraid of silence. But what she did not fully admit to herself yet was that she was most afraid of things standing behind this silence. That is why she would never go to Mould-on-the-Wold with Harry Potter. No way, Harry. No way…