Author's note : Hey guys. This story is going to update every Tuesday and Thursday. It will be a one-shot, because most of my time is taken up by studying or working, and I don't have time to catch misspellings or grammar errors (plus, my eyes are awful so...). Anyways, hope you all enjoy.
Chapter 1
"I can't believe this!" Hermione yelled slamming her newspaper down on the table.
Ron stopped munching on his breakfast and stared at her waiting for her to continue. "What?"
"'In an interview, Pansy Parkinson stated that Ms. Hermione Granger would not make a good fit as Minister of Magic as she was a very troubled and malicious soul during the time Pansy knew her at Hogwarts,'" Hermione read, "This is ridiculous!" She stood up and began to pace around the kitchen angrily.
"'Mione, nobody with half a brain is going to believe any of that hogwash. Pansy is just-" Ron started.
She turned on her heels. "No! No, that's the point!" she yelled getting into Ron's face though she looked far less angry, "She's acting childish. She can't just… move on with her life. She has to go and spread rumours and continue living out her days as though we were still immature children who didn't like each other in Hogwarts."
In confusion, Ron's brows furrowed. "You-... you don't… not like her?"
"I don't see a point in holding some stupid grudge over something that happened years ago," she grumbled before folding her arms and sinking back into her chair.
Slowly, Ron offered her one of the muffins from her plate.
She smiled weakly at him before accepting the muffin.
"I think you're just letting the stress get to you," he confided, "We hate Pansy. Pansy was awful. You shouldn't be moving on like this else you'll start forgiving every low life Slytherin including Malfoy."
Hermione watched Ron for a moment before her eyes fell to the floor, and she took a bite out of the muffin.
"Well, hey now!" he yelled, "Don't tell me you've forgiven that bloke. Hermione, have you forgotten everything he did to you… and- and me… and Harry!"
"No, of course, I haven't, Ronald," she replied, "But… it was almost a full decade ago. You don't think that maybe we should bury the hatchet-"
"No, I don't! I think I should take the hatchet and see if I can manage a few blows to his head!"
Crookshanks began to rub his head against her leg, and Hermione stroked his fur not wanting to reply to Ron.
"C'mon, Hermione. You can't tell me that I'm wrong," Ron argued.
"You don't think you're being just a little prejudice?" she asked.
"Not at all! He was a stuck-up, arrogant pureblood who thought he could get away with everything!"
"Ronald, people do change. I mean… Professor Snape wasn't as bad as we first thought. You remember what Harry said about him-"
"I remember and what's more, I don't care. It doesn't excuse anything Snape did. He still treated Neville like the scum of the earth and didn't even care when Malfoy hit you with that curse, and your teeth grew."
Hermione lightly touched her mouth. Although she wanted to think of Snape in a kinder light, she knew Ron was right. However, it was in her nature to believe that people could change if they truly wanted to.
"Maybe, Snape was not an ideal example. But, Ron, people change. You changed." she pointed out.
At her words, he seemed slightly taken aback. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh I don't know. I recall someone not having the courage to ask me out on a simple date for several years," she retorted.
His ears turned red. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.
"The Yule Ball? Viktor Krum? Lavender-" Hermione started before Ron put both of his large hands over her mouth.
"Alright, alright. I get it. So maybe…" he began obviously struggling, "... maybe people can kind of change."
She smiled behind his hands.
"But" he yelled, "Slytherins are not capable of change."
Sighing, Hermione glared at Ron and removed his hands from her mouth. "Really?"
"Yes," he affirmed.
"Because I saw Blaise Zabini the other day in Diagon Alley. You know? The Slytherin who hated Muggleborns and 'blood traitors?' We had a lovely conversation."
"About what?"
"Well, we talked about our personal lives. He's working at Flourish and Blotts now. He's married to a Muggleborn witch too. He mostly wanted to apologize for his behavior back in our school years."
"You're making all that up, Hermione Granger," Ron said as he stood up and picked up his now empty plate.
She groaned and slammed her open palms on the table scaring poor Pigwidgeon. "Ronald, why do you have to be so stubborn?"
Although he attempted to glare back, he had stuffed another muffin in his mouth and looked quite ridiculous. He tried to say something, but it was muffled by his full mouth.
"Swallow, Ron," Hermione commanded trying to refrain from smiling.
After swallowing, he uttered only one word, "Because."
"That's no excuse!" she hollered.
"'Mione, I really don't have time for this. I have work soon. We both do. Can't we just talk about this after?"
While it could not have been more than a few moments, she felt like she was staring at him for an eternity. "Alright, fine. But I expect you to be more open-minded when we do."
Ron opened his mouth before shutting it and looking a little upset. However, he nodded. "I'll try," he answered.
He would not. Knowing him, Hermione could imagine that he would claim to never have made any such promise when they eventually did talk about it later that night.
"I'm going to brush my teeth," he muttered before pressing a kiss against her temple.
Smiling lightly, she watched him leave the room before her gaze returned to her newspaper. Slowly, Hermione took it back in her hands and opened it in search of some more appealing news. To her dismay, there was nothing quite so interesting or happy. Most stories revolved around some werewolf rampages or some poor decisions made on behalf of the ministry.
At the moment, Hermione was not entirely sure whether she was up for the Minister position because of her ability or because the ministry's recent failures and misdemeanors would fall on her shoulders. She could only hope that she was not merely a scapegoat.
Beginning to set down the paper, an ad suddenly caught her eye.
On the ad was a picture of a potion bottle. The contents sloshed back and forth as the picture danced on the paper.
'Malfoy Manor seeking skilled potioneer. Pay negotiable. Send letter by owl for further information.'
The Malfoy's were looking for a potioneer.
It was quite puzzling. She wondered why the Malfoy's would have a need for a potioneer to begin with. Another question was what they might ask of a potioneer. They may very well ask for intricate, deadly potions.
She stopped herself. That was her own prejudice speaking.
Hermione did not like the Malfoy's especially considering that Narcissa's sister, Bellatrix, had tortured her violently in the manor or that Draco had bullied her relentlessly for years. However, she had just made a speech to Ron about forgiveness and putting aside past grudges. She was not about to be a hypocrite.
Taking out her wand, she cast a spell and cut the ad out tucking it neatly in her pocket. She had time on her hands and applying to be a potioneer might not be too bad. It would be especially exceptional if the Malfoy's had truly changed, and she could rub it in Ron's face that she had been right.
In the case that the Malfoy's had truly not changed, she could always just leave. She would even be willing to renounce her belief if they were not capable of apologizing or leading a new life.
Truly, she did not even know if she would receive the job, but she was willing to apply at the very least. If she did not get the position, she could always conquer her fear another way and walk directly to the doorstep of the manor and make them apologize.
That would not actually be change though. She would just be forcing their hands.
Her mind was on the ad throughout the day though.
Ministry work was simple enough and when she had finished it all and had nothing left to do, she pulled out a roll of parchment paper and took her quill.
After a long time of consideration, she decided she would start with a formal greeting.
'To whom it may concern,'
She would ask specifically what sort of potions she was expected to make and when a well as any other information they found important enough to share with her. She would also ask for a face-to-face interview if she got the job.
When she finished, she stared at her finished letter. All that was left was a signature, a name.
She could sign it as Hermione Granger, but the chance that they would write back might be slim. They might be more open if they did not know it was her just yet.
'A skilled potioneer'
It was the ideal way to finish.
Handing the letter to the ministry owl, she made eye contact with the bird. "Malfoy Manor," she said carefully.
The barn owl hooted in reply and was off.