Day Seven

The smell of breakfast cooking greeted Hermione when she stepped out of the bathroom following her morning shower. Nearly a week with a new husband and she was afraid she was getting used to seeing him moving around in the kitchen. That didn't seem normal. Would that last once the initial honeymoon period was over? She sincerely hoped so.

"Good morning."

Rabastan greeted her with a warm smile. After a nice evening together, it was starting to feel more like it had been before they had their conversation about the Longbottoms. She was going to enjoy it while she could because she knew it wasn't likely to last. Relationships always morphed and evolved as they went along even if they didn't have decades of heavy baggage to sift through. She still had high hopes that they would be happy in their own way, but knew it wasn't going to be an easy journey to get there.

"Good morning."

He stepped back from the stove long enough to pull her into his arms. Perhaps he thought he needed to make up for the kiss the day before that hadn't lasted long. If so, he more than accomplished that feat. Only Rabastan remembering he was still cooking seemed to force him to pull his sinful lips from hers. She would've rather he let the eggs burn.

"Are you going to add cooking breakfast to your diabolical plan to get me to want to keep you?"

"Why? Is it working?"

"Maybe."

"Then yes."

Hermione laughed as she took her seat at the table. A pot of tea was already waiting for her to pour. She poured them each a cup, glad that she watched him prepare his the day before and remembering how he liked it. If he could cook for them, she could fix his tea.

Breakfast was simple and easy. As they ate, he pointed out the more interesting tidbits of news in that morning's newspaper. He tried to avoid any mention of the Azkaban parole program, but she could see the headlines herself. Every day there seemed to be another article. If any of them specifically mentioned her, she didn't know. It seemed likely with Rita's grudge.

Not wanting to go downstairs, Hermione waited until the last minute. Each day it got a little bit harder to go into the shop. The thought that it would never get any easier filled her with a dread she knew she wasn't able to hide from Rabastan. When he heard her sigh as she stood up from the table, his brow furrowed.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine."

Neither of them believed her, but he didn't push her. She invited him to join her downstairs again if he wanted to learn more about how the shop worked. There was still so much she wasn't able to show him the day before even with a depressing lack of customers. Nicholas was already waiting for her behind the counter. Even just seeing his face put her on edge. She forced herself to remain calm assuming that he was probably looking for a reason to cause problems.

At the appropriate time, Hermione unlocked the front door and turned the shop sign to open. She wasn't even a couple of steps away before the bell announced a visitor. Amazed and hopeful that the customers were returning, she spun around to find a smiling Kingsley Shacklebolt. It took all of her self-control to keep from giving in to the urge to frown. No, he probably wasn't there to buy fourteen different books out of her less popular sections.

"Good morning, Kingsley. This is a surprise. What brings the Minister for Magic to my humble little book shop?"

"Official business, I'm afraid. I'm here to conduct your first interview and first inspection."

She thought he was joking at first. When she didn't see even a hint of a joking smile, she knew he wasn't.

"Surely you're far too important to do something that menial."

"Absolutely not. I'm still an official and as I'm the one who is ultimately responsible for the program, I want to make sure that it's successful."

His explanation made sense. He was the sort of Minister who preferred to be hands-on. It was a vast improvement from the previous several Ministers who enjoyed the perks of the job more than the actual work. Sometimes it seemed like Fudge or Thicknesse didn't even understand that they were expected to do something. Pius Thicknesse could be excused somewhat for being under the influence of a powerful Imperius Curse during his entire dismal term, but only just. Fudge had no excuse. He was just terrible.

"Well, then would you like to come upstairs to the flat? Rabastan was cleaning up the kitchen when I left a few minutes ago. He's probably done by now."

"Would you mind terribly if I spoke to you alone for a few minutes first?"

Even though she expected him to ask, part of Hermione wished that he wouldn't request a private audience. With Rabastan present there would have been a bit of a buffer. Kingsley wouldn't ask certain questions or make certain remarks if they weren't alone. At some point no matter what, she knew Kingsley would force her into a private conversation. Best to get it over with as soon as possible.

"All right, let's go into my office." She turned to her manager who wasn't even trying to hide the fact he had been listening in. "Nicholas, I'll just be inside if you need anything."

He nodded, but didn't say a word. Fighting once again the urge to roll her eyes and sigh, Hermione led her old friend into the shop's office. Offering up the empty desk chair simply because she was too embarrassed by the uncomfortable shabbiness of the small settee that was crammed in the corner, he gladly accepted. Nicholas was close to the office, pretending he wasn't. Irritated even more, she closed the door practically in his face.

"You seem frustrated. Is your manager still a terror?"

Kingsley tried to keep from smiling, but failed. It had been months since they last were able to have a conversation of any value. Nicholas wasn't the only frustration she vented to her friend, only the one that kept repeating itself over and over again.

"Afraid so. I would love to fire him, but I have no reason other than I just loathe his stupid face. And it seems wrong."

"There are always opportunities that present themselves with difficult employees if we're only willing to look and be a bit creative."

"I'm hoping that he'll give up soon enough and just quit to save me the trouble. Of course, if business keeps going the way that it has been, it won't matter."

His brow furrowed with concern. Not wanting to start that conversation no matter how much she thought she might benefit from venting, she cleared her throat and changed the subject.

"So we're alone. I'm sure that you must have a million questions for me. Honestly, I'm surprised that you didn't seek me out sooner to ask them. Surely you must have known that I submitted an application over a month ago to get married."

"Yes, I did, and I was a bit confused why you didn't tell me before you submitted the application. That was news I would've expected to get straight from your mouth and not by reading it unprepared during one of my morning briefings."

She felt a little bit ashamed for not telling him, especially since she knew he would likely find out just the way that he did. The details of how the program worked were a mystery, but knowing Kingsley, she knew he would be in the thick of it all.

"I didn't tell anyone except Justin Finch-Fletchley, my solicitor."

"Not even Harry or Ron?"

"Kingsley, dear, you of all people know how strained my friendship has been with them for the past few years and you know exactly how they would react to learning I wanted to marry a known Death Eater and sponsor him to get out of Azkaban."

His heavy sigh proclaimed he did indeed suspect how they would react. And knowing Harry, he probably went straight to his office the first chance he got after leaving her flat that first morning. She could only imagine what he told Kingsley about his experience.

"So, tell me, how did this come about? I just can't even begin to fathom how you ended up marrying a Lestrange brother. It quite frankly blows my mind."

She wasn't sure how much she should tell him. It was bizarre enough that they met through exchanging letters for three years. To actually admit that she didn't know his name until after she married him was madness. There was enough of an old romantic in the unapologetic gossip to assume that he might find the story's details titillating, but she wasn't sure she wanted anyone to know that yet. Based on Justin's reaction alone, it probably wouldn't be well-received.

"Luna Lovegood started that Azkaban penpal program through her father's magazine. I'd just broken up with your favorite auror."

Kingsley smirked. It was a private joke between them. When she announced years earlier she started dating one of his former colleagues in the Auror Office, he hadn't been pleased which one she chose. Though he tried to be supportive of her relationship because he was a good friend, no one celebrated harder when Hermione ended that relationship. He had always been of the opinion that she deserved better.

"I thought it might be interesting. At least it was something that I could do to kill some time. Never expected much out of it really, but I was… charmed by Rabastan."

"Clearly. Marriage is an important step, especially with the added stress of being his sponsor in this program."

"I'm aware of that. I didn't jump into this lightly without thinking, Kingsley."

Except she did a little bit. Yes, she asked questions and requested some conditions in order to agree first, but it really hadn't taken much thought for her to decide she wanted to help Rabastan get out of prison. Everything happened so quickly even if they had to wait for the proper procedures to be approved and the paperwork to be filed. Hadn't she decided the moment she read his hasty proposal that she would accept it no matter what? Of course she couldn't admit that out loud.

"I'm sure you didn't. Before we begin an official interview and inspection, I would like to continue speaking to you privately as your friend, off the record. Is that all right?"

"Of course it is. How long have we been friends? I've always enjoyed our conversations."

"Good. Are you being treated well?"

"Are you concerned that my husband is mistreating me?"

Kingsley cleared his throat, evidently not wishing to get straight to the heart of the matter. Often they could dance around the uncomfortable subjects. Hermione wasn't in the mood. Best to just get it over with.

"Well, he is a Death Eater."

"No, he was a Death Eater. No one is a Death Eater any longer. And even if Voldemort was still alive… no, Rabastan is not a Death Eater."

"He is still a member of a very pro-pureblood family. I can still be concerned that you're not being treated the way that you should be."

"Rabastan has been nothing but wonderful to me from the very first letter I received from him. There was never any secret about my blood status. He knew I was Muggle-Born from the very beginning. I made certain of that in the first letter I wrote so there was no confusion."

The Minister seemed somewhat pacified by that admission. Hermione could feel herself getting defensive and she had been known to lash out in that state. As much as she appreciated her friend for caring enough about her well-being to check on her, she didn't appreciate the implication that she might be in danger around her husband. She was a capable enough human being to choose who to spend her time with.

"I'm glad to hear that he has been wonderful to you. If that changes, you can be assured that I will stop at nothing to put him back in Azkaban."

"I appreciate your concern, Kingsley, but it really is unnecessary. I am aware of my husband's past, but I also know the man he is today. People really can change."

She said it with such conviction she had to believe it. Sometimes, usually in the dark hours of the night when she was alone in her bed, she could allow herself to worry that it was all some sort of sick performance designed to just get him out of prison no matter what. Of course she understood why there were so many skeptics about the program. If she didn't know Rabastan and wasn't intimately involved in the program herself, she might even be one of them. With her unfortunate history with Death Eaters, it wasn't irrational for there to be fear and concern about the formerly violent criminals getting out of their prison cells.

"Good. Now I suppose we can begin the formal part of the inspection."

Before he could go into any further explanation, they were interrupted by a loud knock on the office door. Hermione stood up from the settee to see who it was. On the other side stood a very confused looking Rabastan. There was the tiniest hint of pink in his cheeks, like he was trying very hard not to be upset. Over his shoulder she could see Nicholas' smirking face. She could only imagine what her manager told her husband when he came downstairs. He was the type to want to cause problems.

"There you are, darling. I was just about to come and get you. Kingsley is here to conduct our first inspection, but before he met with both of us, he wanted to make certain I was all right."

He seemed to be comforted by her explanation. Inviting him inside, she narrowed her eyes in Nicholas' direction as she closed the office door. The horrible man only smirked harder. Yes, perhaps she would have to take Kingsley's advice to find a creative way to get rid of him. She had to be careful that he didn't go running to the press to claim she was being unfair.

After Kingsley stood to shake Rabastan's hand, a gesture Hermione appreciated immensely, she led her husband over to the small settee that was just barely big enough for both of them to sit next to each other. From that moment on, the interview was all business. The Minister had a number of standard questions from the pair about how the previous nearly a week had gone. Because he had been a guest to her flat before, a fact that earned her a curious look from Rabastan, Kingsley didn't ask to be taken upstairs to inspect the living arrangements.

"Now, that is all done. Likely one of the other Ministry officials will be tasked with coming for future follow-up visits, but I'll try to take over as many of those as I can."

"That's not necessary, Kingsley. You're a very busy man."

"Not too busy for you."

He offered her a warm smile that made her husband tense. Realizing that Rabastan was possibly getting an entirely wrong idea about her relationship with the Minister, she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile before lacing her fingers through his. That seemed to help somewhat. The gesture also didn't go unnoticed by Kingsley who struggled to keep from smiling again.

"You must understand, Mr. Lestrange, that I care very deeply for Hermione. We have been dear friends for many years and I will always have her best interests at heart."

"I hope that you can trust that I feel the same way, Minister Shacklebolt. There's nothing that I wouldn't do to keep her protected."

"I appreciate that and I think I'm finally beginning to understand that. Now, before I go, tell me honestly, how has the reception been?"

Hermione didn't want to answer that question. Avoiding the newspapers and either staying safely cocooned in her shop or sneaking out to Muggle London where they could be anonymous, the only real negative reactions had come from her manager and the few friends that dropped by to see if it was true.

"I'm afraid that my presence here is negatively affecting my wife's sales. There doesn't seem to be that many customers who are interested in buying books from her now."

Rabastan's sigh was one of helpless frustration. She hadn't expected him to say anything at all to Kingsley's question. Turning her whole body in his direction, she knew that her confusion was obvious across her face. Her husband gave her a sad smile.

"I can hear the shop bell from the flat. I know you haven't had any customers. Honestly, that's not terribly surprising considering every article that mentions this program has mentioned both of our names and the fact that you own Flourish and Blotts. It's like they're purposefully cramming that fact into everyone's faces to keep them from shopping here."

Though she wasn't surprised at all to hear about the subtle references to her shop in the newspaper, Hermione was embarrassed to admit to herself that she hadn't even considered the shop bell. Of course Rabastan would know that whole hours had gone by without the front door opening. It was surprising that he hadn't mentioned it before. Was he aware that she was trying to shield him from it? They really were going to need to learn how to communicate in a more productive way. Or at the very least stop trying to shield the other from what might be unpleasant. He promised her that he wouldn't lie to her. She should do the same. Lying by omission was just as harmful, especially in the beginning of a relationship.

As much as Kingsley might have liked to linger in the book shop catching up and perhaps learning more gossip that was sure to make him happy, his position did indeed mean he was needed back at the Ministry. When Hermione stood up to walk him out, he kindly gestured for her to sit back down.

"I know the way out, thank you, and maybe you two would like to speak privately for a few minutes."

He was a perceptive man. Closing the door behind him as he left, they were alone again for the first time since their good morning kiss. Remembering how he looked when she opened the office door, Hermione was curious.

"Why were you so upset when you knocked on the door?"

Rabastan clenched his jaw.

"Because Nicholas was a little too happy to tell me that my wife was alone in the office with the Minister who according to him, has been a frequent guest of yours since you bought the shop. He told me that usually you take him upstairs into the flat where he's been known to spend hours at a time."

It took everything she had not to smile. Rabastan was jealous. She found it positively adorable, but knew that she couldn't tell him that. Men could be so sensitive. Instead, she reached for his hand again and gently squeezed it.

"Nicholas was just trying to stir up trouble. Maybe he was hoping you would get angry enough to physically attack the Minister. That would certainly be a violation of your parole, wouldn't it?"

"I know it's not really any of my business what happened before we married, but… has there ever been anything between you and Shacklebolt?"

That time she did chuckle.

"Other than an embarrassing crush I had on him for a short time when I was fifteen, he has only ever been a very dear friend of mine. He can be a bit protective of me because he feels some responsibility about what happened to my parents…"

She stopped herself before she went any further. Any mention of her parents was still difficult even over a decade later. It was Rabastan's turn to squeeze her hand in encouragement when she needed it. She was thankful that he didn't immediately start asking questions she wasn't ready to answer.

"And the hours that Kingsley spent up in my flat that one time was because the dear man can be frustratingly tenacious. I made one comment about my kitchen faucet dripping and he insisted on seeing it for himself. Before I could finally push him out of the flat, he'd insisted on fixing every tiny little problem he could find. Apparently, he didn't want to worry about me living in a potential death trap."

"Oh."

He relaxed his jaw and the smallest embarrassed smile popped up on his lips. She had to fight the urge to lean over and kiss him right then.

"So you fancied the Minister when you were a teenager?"

"No, I fancied him when he was just an auror. He seemed very interesting and exciting."

"You know he's my age, right?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"I've always been attracted to older men."

His smile widened.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to send that obnoxious arsehole home early today. Don't need him if we don't have any customers."

She could hear her husband chuckling as she exited in the office with a clear purpose on her mind. Finding Nicholas wasn't difficult. He hadn't strayed far from the office. No doubt he was hoping he would be able to overhear something fascinating. Likely he stood with his ear pressed against the door when Kingsley was inside. For the first time she was really glad that she had the presence of mind to cast silencing charms on the office when the door was shut. There wasn't often top-secret private business going on inside the walls, but she wanted to be prepared.

"Thank you for minding the shop while Minister Shacklebolt was here, Nicholas, but I don't think I'll need you for the rest of the day. I can handle what customers come in."

The loathsome man scoffed, but didn't say a word. Just walked out of the door with a satisfied smirk on his face. She didn't understand how he could find joy in her misfortune. As she stared at the front door he just disappeared through, she sighed. Instantly, she felt Rabastan's arms wrap around her shoulders and gently pull her back against his chest. She sighed again, more from contentment than anything.

"You promised me you wouldn't lie to me, Rabastan, so I won't lie to you either. The shop isn't doing well. If this boycott continues much longer and customers don't start coming back, I may have to close or sell the shop."

Rabastan brushed his lips against the top of her head. It was a sweet gesture that only helped calm her even more.

"We will figure it all out together, my darling. I promise."

Having her husband downstairs for the rest of the day helped the time move a little faster. There were still no customers, but being able to show him how the shop operated in even more detail helped to keep her mind from that depressing reality.