A package arrived at her London flat containing Godric knows what on a Thursday evening.
Hermione was hesitant looking at the box on her doorstep. Debating on whether or not she should even be near it let alone inspect it, considering the war had ended two years prior and she on the prevailing side, she stared at it.
Ms. Hermione Granger
63 St Margret's Rd
London, England
No return address. She continued to stare at the curious package. Looking for a nail scratch, a dent, a rip, a tooth mark, any signs of rough handling. She tried to sense any sign of dark magic with her gut, her head, her heart, her entire magical being. Nothing.
With a soft flick of her wand, she levitated the package into the living room and set it on the coffee table closing the door behind her, already nervous about what could be inside. Inhaling through her nose filling her lungs slowly, she took a couple steps back behind a wall and cast a charm to rip the tape off the package from a distance, hoping nothing would explode and destroy her home.
She counted to ten as she hid behind a wall and after no explosion or one of the Unforgivables, she took slow steps toward the package and peered inside. A heap of letters. Confused, she took a seat on her couch and started to scatter through the letters within the box, noticing there was no returning address on any of them.
February, 1997
To Her
December, 1996
To Her
May, 1998
To Her
She assumed that these were the dates that they were written, but never sent. She searched for the earliest date she could find through the hundreds within the box.
June, 1996
To Her
She stared at the letter as she did the entire package before, curiously and intriguingly. Who would have written her letters during these years at Hogwarts? Who were her friends during these years? Of course that list didn't change, she's had the same group of friends since her early years. Who were enemies during that year?
She snorted. There were too many to count. Umbridge, Snape, the entire Slytherin house, maybe Ron, but that was a one-sided sort of hate on her own end.
With reluctance, and as always curiosity, she opened the letter and pulled the written words out of the envelope.
To Her,
After all these years in a monument of magic I thought to be my home, I find myself in a box car of the train of my youth, heading back to the house (NOT home) of my youth.
I remember being on this train in my first year. It was the first year I was able to leave the abundance of hoverers that was my family, relatives, and house elves. In a box car surrounded by my childhood acquaintances, I had more bloody freedom than I'd ever had in my entire life. I gorged in many chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties until I felt sick, and it was the happiest I had ever felt.
I am unsure why I find myself telling you such personal anecdotes of my childhood. I have never done that with anyone, even my own mother. She would Avada me if she found out how many sweets I would indulge in.
I had always watched you with amazement. Knowing you were muggle-born and could outsmart any witch or wizard here annoyed me beyond infinity because I was overflowing with envy. I knew my family's prejudices had been weaved into my opinions and beliefs in my earlier years, but I merely ignored it because I didn't know better. But during this past year, it become clear to me.
I guess what I am attempting to say, poorly I might add, is that I sincerely apologize for any and all insults or discriminatory comments I made in my youth. You are no different than I am, and the very fact that I had entirely magical education my whole life prior to attending Hogwarts and you none just makes it that much clearer.
You are a much better person and wizard than I will ever be and I hope the future rests in your favour.
This is for my peace of mind and I have no intention on sending it, because after this summer I know I will never be able send a letter freely anymore.
Sincerely,
It ended there. No signature, no name, nothing to clue her into who sent this letter to her. She read the letter over and over most likely a hundred times before she set it down.
She thought and thought, her mind burned a hole in her own mind trying to think of at least 10 people who would have sent this letter in addition to hundreds more.
She stood and sighed, staring at the box of letters. She rushed toward the kitchen and poured herself a glass of fire whiskey. Who would send her such letters? Not of hate but of acknowledgment and admiration? This puzzle just became even harder.
Her floo roared with green flames and a tall, familiar ginger swept through.
"Ron!" She gasped and squealed excitedly dropping her glass onto the counter, running towards him and jumping into his arms. He had been away helping his brother Charlie with taming dragons temporarily here and there and it had been at about 3 weeks since they last saw each other.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and snuggled against her and she almost strangled his neck in a hug, inhaling his natural cinnamon-y, musky scent.
She giggled with near tears filling her eyes. "I thought you weren't arriving until this weekend." She breathed into his hold.
He separated enough to look at her, with his infamous smirk, "I thought I'd surprise you."
"Well done, I'm utterly surprised." She smiled. They gave each other a small peck before they let go and immediately missed each other's warmth.
"Would you like a drink?" She asked as she hurried into the kitchen, searching her fridge for a butterbeer.
He took a seat at the bar and rest his arms on it, "Would I ever."
She handed him the drink and sat beside him, grabbing the freshly poured fire whiskey in her hand, "How has it been with Charlie?"
He took a sip, "It's been challenging as usual, of course I'm just a trainee. But it has been interesting, learning the mannerisms of them, I suppose."
They had been together since the War, their interests in different careers separating them from time to time. However, they spent as much time as they were able to together.
"How's the ministry? And the S.P.E.W.?" He wondered while gazing at her, missing how undoubtedly wondrous she looked right in front of him.
She pondered back to the recent work she's been doing with the ministry and her work with house elves. She used her heroism during the war to her advantage to start up a new department in the Magic of Ministry after the War, pertaining to the unfair treatment of house elves. A passion she'd held closely to her heart.
"It's been getting on well, we've been working on a law where elves can resist commands from their masters if they think it is unethical or inhuman." She blushed, thinking of all the elves that have visited her in her office to give her thanks, "It's nothing as big as giving them complete freedom, but it's something."
"That's great news, 'Mione." Ron smiled into his butterbeer.
"Have you heard from Harry recently? I owled him a couple times but I didn't want to bother him too much." Hermione inquired. Harry hadn't replied to her owls in about two weeks, she began to worry slightly but rationalized with herself that he was busy doing his job as an Auror.
"Yeah, he's been off casting wards and keeping watch on peculiar people. The Ministry sends him along with other Aurors a list of previous Death Eaters on probation and those who were on the dark side but didn't commit anything obscene." Ron nodded, "he's been fairly busy, I'm sorry he wasn't able to owl you."
"No, it's fine. I'm just glad to hear he's alright," she took a gulp of her fire whiskey. She only really kept in touch with Ron and Ginny recently, other than that she's been too caught up in her work. She looked at Ron with deep admiration, "I've missed you."
Ron looked up at her after sipping his butterbeer, "I've missed you too, 'Mione. It has been extremely stressful trying to get used to taming the dragons on top of Charlie yelling at me constantly." He laughed, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.
She blushed. They haven't had any kind of intimate contact for 3 weeks, and hadn't had sex for at least a month and half.
She gasped and got out of her seat, half panicking, "Merlin, I didn't even offer you something to eat," she turned to the fridge and searched through it before she scavenged her cabinets, "What did you want? I have some leftovers or some muggle snacks here."
Ron stood, letting a giggle slip out of him, "Dont worry, 'Mione, I ate at the Burrow before I came." He began to wonder about her place. Of course he visited his family first, she inwardly cringed at herself.
He inhaled the room as his eyes roamed her flat and Hermione almost forgot about the package she had just received until his eyes landed on it. "What's this?" He asked as he travelled slowly towards it with furrowed brows.
She became nervous and hesitant to tell him, as he was always overly protective of her and she knew he would find her daft if he knew she accepted a package that didn't have a return address on it
"I-It's a package I received not long ago. I wasn't expecting it so I-I thoroughly inspected it, just in case, you know," she panicked, "but I didn't find a-any traces of dark magic or anything, so." She stuttered, internally hitting her forehead for sounding so stupid.
He steadily stared at the package, cowering over it and curling his face as if touching it would give him a disease.
"I looked through it and it's just letters upon letters. I had opened the first one and it was quite curious and unexpec–"
"You cannot just accept packages from completely random people, Hermione," he glared back at her with a fire close to explosion in his eyes, "do you have any idea who this could be from?!" He yelled.
She looked at her feet. She knew it was a dumb idea, but she can't help her curiosity. Additionally she had searched the package for any sign of threat. She wasn't deemed the Brightest Witch of Her Age for nothing. Did he actually assume that she had brought an unaddressed, unexpected package into her home without thoroughly inspecting it after all that she had been through?
"You act as if I don't know how to handle myself and take precautions." She growled, still looking at the floor.
Ron walked closer to her, letting an breath out before he took her by the wrists, "I know you how to handle yourself. I just wish your curiosity of unknown things would decrease in such circumstances." He rubbed her arm up and down.
The night went on, ending with them curling up together on the couch, intertwining their fire whiskey and butterbeer breaths sharing a longing, magical intimate moment, in front of Hermione's TV watching a program that she'd forced him to watch.
•••
She'd woke to the sound of her own Crookshanks annoyingly meowing at her that it's 6:45 am and she must get ready for work. She looked over at Ron who was still beside her asleep in her bed and kissed his cheek before she got up to get ready.
As she emerged from the bathroom, Ron was sitting up in bed waking up. She smiled and her heart warmed, "Good morning, you."
He turned around to face her and smiled back, his stare sliding down her body to admire her fitted work clothes. "Bloody hell, you go to work like that?"
She giggled and blushed, "It's not an inappropriate fit, you just think filthily." She looked up through her eyelashes.
He walked over in just his pants and kissed her rather passionately. "Can you be a little late to work today?" He asked as he took his lips away.
"If I wasn't so busy then I would make an excuse."
She craved his touch, skin to skin contact, a passionate connection that only she and Ron shared and the one she achingly missed. But work awaited.
With a clean pencil skirt, a proper white oxford, appropriate pumps, and of course calming her curls into a small low bun, she was on her way to the ministry.
She made her way to her office, and sat comfortably in her chair intending to go over the work she explained to Ron the previous night when her assistant rushed into her office, closing the door behind her.
Hermione was surprised, "Taura, what's the matter?"
The witch made her way to Hermione's chairs in front of her desk and took a seat. "I'd just come from a meeting. Some former Death Eaters have been offered jobs here to settle the rest of their debt, due to their good behaviour. Either that or choose to stay where they're at."
This surprised the Golden witch and her stomach dropped, "What?! And when did they decide to do this?!" She stood, coming around her desk to face her assistant.
"I believe it's been in the works for some time now, at least that's what I've heard. I mean, some Death Eaters aren't as guilty as others so I assume their sentence shouldn't be as lengthy. Even their probation. And I'm sure they should get a chance at redeeming themselves. I'm not sure. I'm sorry, for bursting in here. I was just somewhat startled by the news and thought you should know." Taura rambled, still sitting in the chair now in front of Hermione.
Taura was a half-blood Ravenclaw who was 4 years her senior. She'd worked with the Ministry while it had been corrupted but managed to escape to her muggle family in Canada before she was captured or enslaved by Death Eaters. Her and Hermione had begun working together when the Ministry was returned to the Order and had built a close relationship.
Hermione stood, unsure of how to take this news. Some of them tortured her, some of them hexed her, some of them watched others torture and hex her. How was she supposed to think that they would be productive employees despite being in support of those trying to take over the very Ministry that she worked in just two or three years prior?
Hermione was panicking, but showed nothing on the outside. "And where does Kingsley just expect to drop them?" She asked as calmly as she could, but it came out more annoyed and worried.
Taura shrugged, "T-They just informed me that they would give them the positions in various departments that have yet to be filled." Her voice still shaking.
Hermione leaned against back her desk, both hands gripping the ends of it. She was lost in thought. Death Eaters were supposed to rot in Azkaban along with their older Death Eater relatives. They're not to be privileged with the life of a normal witch or wizard. They, along with those who chose the dark side, have caused enough chaos in this world.
"Do you know when they're supposed to start contributing to the society that they previously hated and tried to reform?" She snarled, not even looking at her assistant.
"This coming Monday. The Ministry plans to spend today randomly distributing them into departments to fill gaps and place them to start working in different departments and sectors on Monday." Taura breathed, still seeming panicked.
Hermione's blood boiled as she faced her assistant, "And what? We're just supposed to work with them as if the War hadn't happened? As if they hadn't tortured my friends? My professors? As if–" her voice broke as she approached her last sentence, "as if they didn't torture me?!"
Taura sat silent, completely speechless, a glint of sympathy showing in her eyes.
Hermione stormed out of her office to Kingsley's office with long strides, making some of her hair fall out of her bun and glide aside her face.
Without even knocking or asking his assistant if she could enter, she barged in with anger in her eyes and purpose in her strut.
"What is the purpose of this Kingsley?!" She somewhat yelled unbeknownst to the company he was holding.