And now we are in the future, where most of this fic takes place!
Another huge shoutout to cheesy, because she's the bestest cheese ever!
oOo
Five years later
oOo
Hermione let out an exhausted sigh as she dug the keys to her apartment out from the bottom of her purse. It had been her third long day of job interviews in a row, and her feet ached from hours of walking in heels. Finding her keys, she unlocked the door and swung it open, only to be immediately greeted by Crookshanks, who purred as he rubbed his furry body along her shins.
"Hey," she crooned as she bent down to stroke her beloved pet. "Did you have a good day?"
"He had quite a boring day, actually."
Hermione's body snapped up in surprise, her eyes finding the source of the voice. "Blake!" she breathed, her heart hammering in her chest. "I thought you were working late tonight?"
Blake walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder, his face apologetic. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I swear I didn't mean to scare you."
She shook her head, letting out a small laugh. "That's fine. Now, why aren't you at work?"
"I didn't go to work today, I just lied and told you I did. I went to a few stores this morning and then came back here for a bit of a quiet day."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, a slight smile on her face. "You lied to me? And why would you do that?"
Blake shrugged. "Can't a guy surprise his girlfriend every once in a while?"
"Well, yes," Hermione said slowly. "But it's not like you."
"I'm that predictable, eh?" he chuckled. "Maybe I need to up my game."
Hermione leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "I'm glad you're home, but I'm going to be busy for a while. I have a lot more papers to sort through."
"How did it go today?" he asked. "How many job offers do you have now?"
"Six," Hermione answered as she slipped out of her high heels. "But I'm nowhere close to figuring out which one I want, or if there's a better offer somewhere I haven't even checked out yet."
Blake let out a low whistle. "You know how many people would kill for six job offers, Hermione? You really are something else. I mean, you only just graduated three weeks ago."
"Don't remind me."
He chuckled. "And I've already told you I have no problem with you not working for a while. You're in no obligation to rush out and get a job."
"Do you know me at all?" Hermione laughed. "I can't just sit around and do nothing." She started walking backwards towards the apartment's small second bedroom. She'd converted it into an office the day after she'd moved in, and the last few weeks it was where she'd spent the majority of her time. "One hour, okay? I'll make it up to you afterwards."
"I'll hold you to it."
Spinning around and opening the office door, Hermione walked in and set her briefcase down on top of her desk. With care, she pulled out a stack of papers and set them down next to the other stacks that were already there. Letting out a breath, she dropped to her chair and started to look through them all, planning on making a list of pros and cons for each job, hoping it would help her make a decision.
Hermione knew that she should be grateful for the number of opportunities currently presented to her, but the truth was, she was only feeling a huge amount of stress. The pressure of finding the perfect job was getting to her, even though she knew she was overthinking it. All six of the jobs she'd been offered so far were nice, and probably more than enough, but she had yet to have a great feeling about any of them.
Time flew by, and Hermione was still busy making her list when Blake knocked on the door and popped his head inside. "Hey, Hun, it's been an hour and a half."
Hermione groaned. "And I'm still not even close to an answer. Why is this so bloody difficult?"
Blake sighed before walking over and placing his hand on top of hers. Hermione knew he was only trying to comfort her, but there was no calming her down when she was like this. Even though he often tried to help, the only one who had ever been able to calm her down had been Ro-
Hermione slammed her hand down onto the desk, forcing her brain not to go there. She hardly ever thought of her old life anymore, though every once in a while it would wedge itself into her thoughts.
"Hermione? Are you okay?"
Blake's concerned voice pulled her out of her fog, and she gave her head a few shakes. "Yes, yes, of course." She smiled at him. "Just frustrated, that's all."
"I made dinner. When I was out earlier, I bought you a dress to wear. I set it out on the bed."
Hermione frowned. "A dress?" Her eyes then swept over Blake's body, for the first time noticing he was dressed up in slacks and a red button-down shirt. "What's going on?"
He gave her a small, sad smile. "It's kind of our two-year anniversary."
Hermione gasped. "Oh my god! Blake, I am so sorry! I didn't even-"
"Shh," he cut her off. "That's alright. There's a lot going on, and I know how you can get. It's okay."
Hermione placed her head in her hands, guilt washing over her. "I am the worst girlfriend in the world," she muttered.
"Not the worst. Maybe the most ambitious, but..." he trailed off.
Placing her pen down on the desk, she stood up. "I'll go and get dressed now. Meet you at the table in five minutes?"
Blake nodded and Hermione rushed off to their bedroom. She quickly changed into the dress he'd bought, happy that it seemed to fit well even though it wasn't really her style. She put her hair in a quick plait, knowing she didn't have any time to do anything more elegant.
When she walked into the kitchen, the lights were off, the room illuminated by dozens of small candles. There were two plates full of pasta set out on the small two-person table, along with two full wine glasses.
"Wow," she breathed as she took a seat across from Blake. "This is beautiful."
"Good. Damn lighter was iffy and it took me forever to light all of the candles," he laughed.
"Very romantic," Hermione told him as she lifted her fork and took a bite.
"You sound surprised. Do you not find me capable of being romantic?"
Hermione pondered the question. During their time together, Hermione had found Blake to be, if she could put it into a single word, constant. She almost always knew what he was going to do or say, and Hermione had used his reliability to her advantage, trusting that he wasn't going to one day turn around and become a completely different person. Truth be told, life with Blake wasn't terribly exciting, though Hermione cared a lot for him.
"No, I do. Just a bit out of character, that's all," she clarified before picking up her wine glass and taking a long sip.
"Is that a bad thing?"
She shook her head and gave him a smile. "No. Not at all. This is lovely."
Blake seemed pleased. "Glad you think so. I've been planning this for a while."
His words, and the manner in which he'd said them, set off alarm bells in Hermione's brain, and she took another long sip of her wine to help subdue her rising anxiety. "You have?" she asked, her voice higher than it had been before.
"Yes. I wanted it to be perfect."
"Perfect?" she repeated. "Why?"
Blake smiled at her, seemingly oblivious to her panic. "I was going to wait until we were through eating, but what the hell?" Moving from his chair, he stood only to take a few steps towards her. Hermione gasped as he dropped to one knee beside her chair, his hand digging into his left pocket. When he pulled out a small box, she immediately knew what was happening, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe.
"Hermione," he started. "We've been together for two years now. I've never met a woman like you. You're hard-working, determined, and there's something, if I dare say it, magical about everything you do. I love you, and I want you forever. Will you marry me?"
Hermione's throat constricted. Blake had said a lot of words, but one in particular stood out from the rest.
Forever.
Instead of responding, she jumped to her feet and started to pace in front of him, internally scrambling to find something to say.
"I-I-" she stuttered, at first unable to get the words out. Coming to a decision, she came to an abrupt stop and turned to him. "I'm so sorry, Blake. I can't."
He frowned and Hermione felt awful as she registered the look of hurt on his face. "Is it too soon for you?" he asked. "If so, we could-"
Hermione shook her head. "No, it's not that, I just-" she paused. "It's because I'm moving back to London."
The words flew out of her mouth without her even realizing she was going to say them, yet as soon as she did, Hermione knew that was what she wanted to do. What she had been wanting to do for a long time- probably as soon as she'd left.
Blake's mouth opened and closed a few times, obviously lost for words. "But that can't be true. You've been looking for a job here, and all the-"
"I've also got something lined up in London," she lied. "The truth is, I've been wanting this for a while now, I just-"
"Didn't tell me," he finished before letting out a heavy sigh. "I feel like an idiot."
Hermione kneeled in front of him, taking his face in her hands. "You're not an idiot," she insisted. "You are a wonderful, wonderful man."
"Not wonderful enough, apparently," he replied, his irritation evident.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I don't know what else to say."
"I always figured there was a boyfriend or something you left behind," he muttered. "You never liked to talk about your life there, no matter how hard I pressed."
"It's…complicated."
"It always is." He stood up and walked from the table into the small living area before sitting down on the couch, his shoulders slumped. "So, what now? When are you planning to move?"
"As soon as I can get everything arranged to travel over there," she responded, walking over to sit next to him. "I really am sorry, Blake."
"Yeah, well." He was no longer looking at her. "I'm going to go to Jim's house for a few nights," he said after a minute of uncomfortable silence. "That should give you enough time to pack all of your things."
Without waiting for a response, he stood up and made his way into the bedroom, presumably to pack a bag for himself.
As Hermione sat there and waited for him to finish, she internally panicked. The prospect of packing up her entire life to go back and join the magical world was daunting, but it was something she felt deep inside she needed to do- had been needing to do.
It had been so long though, and she wasn't naïve enough to assume things would be the same, or that she would be returning to the same world she'd left behind. All of the people she cared about were now five years older, and just like her, they'd have also changed. They might not even be living anywhere near London anymore. The thought of the Weasleys living anywhere but the Burrow seemed impossible, and she didn't have any idea where Harry would be, and she could only hope that he would still be with Ginny.
Hermione was broken out of her thoughts as Blake walked back into the living room, a full gym bag slung over his shoulder.
"I guess this is goodbye," he said in a tight voice.
Hermione managed a small nod. She knew he was hurting, and the fact that she was the cause of his pain made her feel awful. She stood up and walked over to him, his eyes impassive as he watched her. Making the first move, Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'll miss you, you know," she whispered.
Very reluctantly, Blake returned her hug. "I'll miss you too, Hermione. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for." With that, he stepped away from her and walked out of the apartment, not giving her a backwards glance.
Hermione stood there for a while, still in disbelief at everything that had just happened.
She was going back to London.
Zero details were figured out, and everything was currently a giant question mark. What would she do for work? Where would she live? She assumed she wouldn't have too much of a problem getting a job at the Ministry, though she would probably have to talk to a few people that she hadn't seen in years to do so. Maybe they wouldn't even remember her.
The pull to go back was so strong that she couldn't believe how long she'd managed to ignore it. Hermione ached for her old life, or at least a portion of it she could get back. She'd been pushing the magical part of her life aside for too long, forcing herself to live the life that her parents wanted her to live. But enough was enough, and she was ready to return to the world that she'd evaded for far too long now.
Hermione was a witch- had always been a witch, even if she'd gone the last five years pretending she wasn't.
With that thought, she stood up from the couch and made her way to the bedroom, pausing as she took in the room she'd lived in for just over a year now. She walked over and opened the door to the walk-in closet, peering inside before pulling the string that lit up the small space.
Grabbing a step stool from the left corner, she unfolded it and climbed up, reaching her arm out along on the top shelf until her hand finally grabbed hold of a long, slim box hidden between two larger boxes.
Hermione's hand shook as she stepped down off the stool, the small box cradled protectively against her chest. Walking back into the bedroom, she sat down on the end of the bed before finally lifting the lid, revealing her wand that she hadn't laid eyes on in what felt like so long. She'd always been sure to know where it was, just in case.
When her hand wrapped around the wood and lifted it up to eye level, she let out a small, disbelieving laugh at the energy she felt coursing through her veins. It was almost as if the wand had made her magic jump to life again, though she knew it had never left in the first place.
The only other object in the box was a single photo. With her free hand, Hermione picked it up and held it out in front of her. It was a photo of her sitting in between Harry and Ron on the sofa at the Burrow. Ginny had taken the picture the summer before sixth year. None of them looked particularly delighted at having their picture taken, but all three of them had obliged and smiled anyway. The film had been old, and the picture was grainy and a bit out of focus. However, it moved perfectly, just like a wizarding photo was supposed to, showing their teenage awkwardness in perfect clarity.
Hermione's eyes watered as she stared at the two boys in the photo, the two boys who would be men by now. How much had changed for them? Were they happy? What kind of jobs did they have? Did they ever talk or even think about her anymore?
The longer she stared at the photo, the worse she felt. When she'd left, she hadn't meant for it to be forever. She'd only meant to stay away until things cooled down between her and Ron, but then University had happened, and she'd thrown herself into doing her best. Then she'd met Blake, and she'd grown comfortable. She'd never planned to live this way for the rest of her life, but she'd fallen into a routine without even realizing it.
Placing the photo back into the box, Hermione closed the lid. She wanted to look forward to the future rather than reminisce about the past and the things she couldn't change. Lifting her wand, she cast a simple charm, delighted to watch as the dirty pair of socks on the floor floated in mid-air before dropping flawlessly into the laundry basket.
oOo
"I'm moving back to London."
Her mum's back stiffened, her hand freezing right in the middle of pouring her daughter a cup of tea. After a moment, the older woman set the kettle down on the counter and turned to face Hermione, a weary look on her face.
"Okay. And you're sure about this?"
"I am," Hermione stated. She sat up straighter in her chair to prepare for an argument, but it didn't come.
Jean Granger turned around and finished pouring the tea before grabbing both of the mugs and walking over to the small, round table. She sat down in the chair across from her daughter, giving Hermione a resigned look.
"Well, I can tell you've already made up your mind."
Hermione nodded. "I have."
Her mum said nothing for a few long seconds before speaking again. "I'll admit, I always feared this would happen, but I thought it would happen sooner than now. When you met Blake and you two started to get serious, I suppose I stopped worrying about it."
"Blake and I split up last night." Hermione looked down at the table to avoid her mum's eyes, positive that she would see disappointment in them. "I feel like I've been pretending for a long time now, and when-" she paused, not wanting to divulge to her mum that Blake had proposed to her. Instead, she cleared her throat and went on. "I realized that this life, although a good one, is not the one I want."
Her mum gave her a tired looking smile. "I can believe that. You were a different person when you were…when you were living life as a witch."
Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "Please try to understand, Mum. I wanted to make you and Dad happy, and then things with Ron-" She took a deep breath. "I never meant to stay away. At least not for this long."
Her mum stood up and made her way around the table to wrap her in a hug. "I'm not mad, Hermione. Or disappointed. You've always been amazing at everything, and your father and I are so proud of you. Then, now, and always. If you feel you need to go back to that world, then that's what you should do. You're an adult now, and things aren't as dangerous as they were back then. All I ask is for you to not keep us out of your life again."
Hermione sniffed and nodded her head. "Thank you. And I won't, I promise."
"You know," her mum started, "I feel like I should warn you not to get your hopes up that..." she trailed off.
"Hopes up that what?" Hermione asked, confused.
"That Ron is…available."
"Me going back has nothing to do with Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, offended. "This is about me. About returning to the world I belong in!"
Jean placed her hand on Hermione's knee. "I know that, Hermione. But when you were in that world, Ron, and Harry too, were always there. I just don't want you to be surprised when you go back and things aren't the same. It's been a long time, and Ron could very well be with somebody else."
"Again," Hermione reiterated, the word not sounding as strong as she intended it to be. "I couldn't care less about Ron's relationship status. While I hope to rekindle our friendship, there is nothing remotely romantic about my intentions with him. In fact," she said, sticking her nose up in the air in a show of indifference, "I hope Ron has a girlfriend. If he does, I'm
sure she's great, and I'd love to meet her."
Hermione picked up her cup and took a long, drawn out gulp of tea. Her mum gave her a tight-lipped smile, only furthering Hermione's agitation. The truth was, just the thought of seeing Ron again caused a pang of sadness in her chest, though she tried her best to push it away.
"I know things won't be the same," Hermione said with a sigh. "But maybe the three of us can all be friends again…at least in some vicinity. Contrary to what you think, though, I'm not hoping to jump into a relationship with Ron. It's been far too long, and chances are, he still doesn't feel that way about me. I don't feel that way about him. Not anymore."
"I'm glad to hear that," her mum said. "Every time I saw him, he seemed like such a nice kid, but then again, he did break my daughter's heart. A parent doesn't just forget about things like that."
Hermione forced out a small laugh. "Water under the bridge. Something as petty as teenage heartbreak will not affect the way I feel about Ron. As a friend," she clarified.
"It didn't seem so petty when you were crying yourself to sleep for all of those months," her mum reminded her as she ran her hand along her daughter's cheek. "Feelings that strong don't go away so easily, Hermione. Time may help, but when you see him again-"
"You don't have to worry about that, Mum," Hermione cut in. "I am a hundred percent over Ron Weasley."
oOo
Hermione,
Of course I remember you. Your reputation for being the brightest witch of your age makes you hard to forget, despite the fact that you haven't been around these last several years. I was very glad to hear you are doing well. To my delight, I think I have just the job for you. Right now, there is an opening in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and I think you fit the job description perfectly. Would it be possible for you to come to my office on Monday morning where we could talk about it further? It would be a pleasure to see you again.
Minister of Magic,
Kingsley Shacklebolt
Hermione read over the letter several more times, trying to make herself believe that it was real. When she'd written to Kingsley, a part of her hadn't even thought she would receive a response at all, but she'd been wrong. She hadn't even known he was now the Minister of Magic, and that fact made her even more amazed that he'd found her important enough to write back to.
The letter had arrived at the perfect time. Her things were already packed, and she had been planning to leave in the morning- with or without a response. Carefully, she refolded the letter, placing it on the nightstand. Walking over to the Ministry owl, who was standing on top of the dresser, she gave it a few bread crusts as payment, feeling bad that she didn't have any owl treats. The bird didn't look impressed, but he ate the gift anyway before taking off through her still open window.
Smiling, Hermione walked over to her bed and fell back on it, her nerves high but her excitement higher.
She was really doing it. She was going back.