Hello readers,
Welcome! This is going to be a shorter, more light-hearted fic surrounding our favs—Ron and Hermione. It is slightly AU and should have plenty of fluff in the upcoming chapters. I hope you enjoy it!
~Dot
It had been another fatiguing day at the Ministry. As usual, it was well past the end of the working day and Hermione could be found toiling along, working furiously on her proposals. This week she was focusing on reforming a law that disallowed centaurs from owning property. It was ridiculous that such biased—and frankly racist—laws were still on the books, but it no longer surprised Hermione. For the last four years she had been working at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and had dealt with archaic laws affecting magical creatures almost daily.
With her last full stop, Hermione stretched, realising she hadn't moved for hours. She looked outside through her tiny half-window and saw that it was pitch-black out and decided it was time to head home. She started to pack her things, though she dawdled, not in a rush to head home anytime soon. It's not as if her home wasn't nice; she lived in a small flat in the posh part of town and could walk to work. It was cosy, but just the right size for her. Perhaps that was the problem—it was the right size for her, and only her. After years of sharing a room, and being surrounded by others, she was now alone. She didn't like the quietness and emptiness of it; it was unsettling. Though it hadn't always been the case.
After returning to Hogwarts for her 7th (really 8th) year, she was offered a position at the Ministry the second she graduated. She took it without hesitation and went on the hunt for a place to live. Though at that time, she wasn't alone in her pursuits. Since the Auror's office was housed in the Ministry, and she was working at the Ministry, it made sense to move to London. After realising the cost, she and Ron decided to move to a flat just outside of the city limits. It was a small flat, even smaller than the one-bedroom she has now, but it was somehow perfect for the two of them...until it wasn't. When they decided to amicably (or at least that's what they told everyone) split, Ron offered Hermione the flat. It made sense, especially since Ron was constantly gone on Auror missions. But, Hermione couldn't stand to be there. She felt consumed by their past, by all of the fantastic memories, and the happiness; she had to move.
It was a hard transition, trying to figure out their new-but-old roles as "just" friends. At first, Hermione avoided the burrow, but was quickly admonished. She was still family and she was coming to Sunday dinners, if Molly had anything to say about it. Ron was often gone anyway, and when he wasn't… well, they were cordial. They had matured, at least somewhat, over the past three years. It almost felt normal now, just being friends with him. But, there was something—something she couldn't quite put her finger on, that was off. They were nice to each other; too nice. They hadn't fought since their blowout-turned-break up. It was as if they were afraid to show too much emotion, too much passion, towards one another.
Hermione sighed; there was no use thinking about the past. She was here, now, and she was doing pretty well. She had been seeing a new man, Andrew, for the last few months. He was okay, he also worked in the Ministry and was almost as passionate about elves rights as she was. But, there was something that was not quite right. There wasn't a spark; she liked him, but she didn't have feelings for him. Though Hermione brushed off her emotions, (or lack thereof) chalking them up to it being a new relationship. After all, she was fairly sure that she was slow-to-warm-up in romantic relationships. None of her short-lived relationships were fiery or love-filled. No, she was pretty sure it took her years to fall in love with someone. At least according to her track record.
She made her way to the corridor leading to the atrium; she was going to floo home because it was too late to walk home alone. Suddenly, the lights went out. She was startled at first but quickly went to grab her wand to illuminate the room. The Ministry, especially this floor, had been having trouble on and off with the lights, the temperature, the weather, you name it. So it wasn't strange for the lights to stop working, though it was a bit eerie, as most workers had gone home long ago. As far as she knew, she was alone. But she was wrong. Before she could get her wand, hands wrapped around her waist and covered her mouth and she was pulled into the ether via apparation.
The second Hermione's feet landed on the ground, she elbowed her assailant in the gut and escaped from his arms. She turned to face him, pulling her wand out of her bag as she did. The lighting was dim, but she could just make out who he was.
"Ron?", she asked incredulously. Ron was lent over nursing his stomach with one arm and raising his other in surrender. "What the–," she stopped mid-sentence, realising it might be a trap. "Prove yourself," she demanded.
"I—erm," he stuttered. "On our second anniversary I tried to propose, but you wouldn't let me."
Hermione lowered her wand. They had agreed not to tell anyone of their disastrous anniversary. Though why he decided to use that antidote to prove his identity was beyond her.
"What is going on?" she screeched. "Why on Earth did you grab me like that? I was sure you were a death eater. And where are we? What is going on Ronald?" She asked all of her questions in quick succession, not allowing Ron to answer.
"I'm sorry for grabbing you like that; it's protocol," he said.
"Protocol?", Hermione questioned. "You could have just asked me to come, you didn't need to kidnap me. And you didn't answer my questions; where are we?"
"I had to be sure no one saw, and there wasn't time to brief you. As it is," he said, looking down at his watch, "we're running late. If you just follow me, I promise everything will be explained. We need to get a move on."
Hermione huffed but nonetheless followed Ron down the dark, dingy corridor. After a few twists and turns they made it to an unmarked door. Ron waved his wand over the doorknob, saying a spell that Hermione didn't recognise but was sure wasn't alohomora, and the door swung open.
"Auror Weasley," a voice said as they entered the small office, "and Miss Granger."
Under the faint light of a desk lamp, Hermione could see a middle-aged man sitting on a chair in the cramped room which Hermione assumed was an office. His hair was greying and his skin reminded Hermione of leather, but other than that, he was unremarkable.
"You're late," he said, looking at Ron. "Please sit," he said to Hermione, motioning to the single chair facing his desk.
"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Miss Granger, and I will do my best to answer them if you allow me some patience," the man said. "My name is Rowan Chase, and I am the head of the Department of Witness Relocation in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"I've never heard of that department," Hermione said with a raised eyebrow, feeling more suspicious of her newfound situation.
"Then I am doing my job," Rowan said with a smirk. "It has come to our attention that you may be requiring our services."
"Requiring your services?" Hermione asked. She racked her brain for anything she could have seen, or any particularly dangerous cases she was on, but came up short. "But I haven't witnessed anything."
"No, no," Rowan said. "Our name can be somewhat deceiving. We do not only work with witnesses; sometimes we work with individuals who are in need of protection." Hermione stared at him blankly, so he continued: "The Auror department has alerted me to a potentially dangerous underground network of dark wizards. They have flagged you as someone who may be targeted. Because of this, we strongly recommend that you proceed with our programme, for your safety as well as for those around you."
"I haven't heard of any underground terrorist group," Hermione said.
"Do you recall the explosion in central London last week?"
"Yes," Hermione responded. "It was due to a gas leak."
"It was found to be a purposeful attack by this group," Rowan said. "And it doesn't seem to be the first, by any means."
"But what makes you think they are targeting me?", she asked.
"They are made up of former death eaters," Ron piped up. "They have made direct threats against you, Hermione. This is serious."
Hermione stared at Ron, trying to take in what he was saying. It had taken years, but Hermione was finally starting to feel normal. The press had died down, especially after she and Ron broke up. There was no more danger, no more battles to be won. She was just a normal witch, in a normal Ministry job, living a normal life. And she liked it that way. The thought of it all happening again—of her being thrust back into danger—terrified her. And the resolute look on Ron's face convinced her that this was no laughing matter.
"What exactly is this programme?", she asked, noticing a slight shake in her voice
"It is the best way to protect you," Rowan said. "No one who has followed our rules, has been found." He picked up a large Manila folder and plopped it on his desk. "You will be taking a new identity, a new life. Some witnesses look at it as a fresh start." He opened the folder which was filled to the rim with official-looking documents.
"Typically, we prefer witnesses to keep their first name, as it is an easier transition. But, with your...recognisability, we have created a new name for you." Hermione picked up an ID card from the pile of documents, it had her picture, her birthdate, and her height, but said the name Heloise Derne.
"We have set up lodgings for you. You will not be in hiding, instead, you will be able to live a normal life. We have created a CV for you, and have set up an interview for you to work at a local library. Auror Weasley suggested that that would be a good fit for you."
She looked over at Ron, who seemed to be avoiding her gaze. It was hard to focus on what Rowan was saying; there was just too much information. She wished desperately that someone would take her hand and tell her that everything would be okay. But no one did. So, instead, she listened to Rowan ramble on.
"Of course, you will have to live a muggle life. You can't have any ties to your life now, which includes your work. You also will not be able to use magic, unless you are in danger, which I understand will be challenging. However, we have reason to believe that the people looking for you have access to magical records, including when and where magic is used. It would be too easy to find you, since you will be relocating to a muggle village."
Hermione felt numb. No magic? How in Merlin's name would she be able to manage that? She had relied so heavily on magic in the last few years, she wasn't even sure if she could make a piece of toast without it.
"I realise this is a lot to take in, and I will visit you soon to answer any questions you may have. Aside from this," Rowan pointed at the papers, "there is a guidebook in your new home. And I'm sure Weasley will be able to assist you, as well."
"Weasley?", Hermione asked.
"Yes," Rowan said. "Auror Weasley is assigned to protect you, and he will be living with you."
"But–," Hermione started, "surely if I am in danger, he is too. As is Harry and Ginny."
"While I can't comment on the others' situation, I can say that Auror Weasley is one of the best Aurors we have, and we do not doubt that he can protect you and himself."
"What about my job, my life?", Hermione asked.
"I'm afraid you will have to leave that all behind. I have an associate at your flat at this moment, getting anything that might be necessary for you, and you can give us a specific list of anything else you may need. Though you cannot take anything that ties you to your life now; pictures, mementoes, etcetera. As for your job, it is the official story that you have been sent away to research the life of dragons and are on indefinite leave."
"I–I," Hermione stuttered, feeling shell-shocked. "I have a boyfriend," she said.
"I was unaware of that," Rowan said, eyeing Ron. "Would you like him to come into the programme with you?"
"No," Hermione said, after barely any thought. She and Andrew weren't living together and there was no way she could ask him to give up his entire life for her.
"Well, we can have you pen a letter," Rowan said. "You can't tell him about the programme, but you can say goodbye and tell him you'll be on a work trip. But, I'm afraid you cannot have contact with him after that."
Hermione nodded her head. She hated that she felt relieved, but the idea of ending it with Andrew helped her to breathe a bit easier.
"It's getting late," Rowan said. "I know you must have a tonne of questions, but a good night's sleep may help ease your anxiety. Here are your keys," he picked out a set of keys from his drawer and handed them to Hermione. "We have a driver ready to take you to your home, since you can't apparate."
Hermione nodded her head, still feeling dazed, and Ron stood to go.
"Oh," Rowan said. "I nearly forgot. These," He rummaged through his desk drawer and picked up two small items, "are for you."
Hermione went to take them and saw that they were rings.
"Welcome to your new lives, Mr and Mrs Derne."