A/N: Wow, third chapter. Just a warning, this chapter really gave me fits. I'm incredibly nervous about it. It's the only one so far that I was drawing blanks at certain parts. Anyways reviews are always appreciated, although just the fact that you're reading this is enough for me.
The quote below is from the Barenaked Ladies song "Too Little Too Late" off their Maroon CD. Their song "What A Good Boy" inspired this fanfic and I stole the title from a line in that song.
Thank you Padfoot Lover, ~Chupacabra~, minx, Faith, perenelle, Nora, Gwen, Cr1Ms0n^D3v1L, AVK, and Hydy for your kind reviews. Extra thanks to ~Chupacabra~, and Faith for reviewing both chapters!
Disclaimer: Nothing in this belongs to me. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling who is neither a god nor goddess, but a simple mortal. May we all follow her example.
What A Good Girl - Chapter 3: Reintroduction
"One day, this embarrassment will fade behind me
And that day I could think of things that won't remind me
But these days it's unbearable for both of us,
We can't discuss it this way…"
- Barenaked Ladies, "Too Little Too Late"
The next morning, Hermione woke up promptly at 7:00 a.m. After showering, she dressed in her neatest black robes and twisted her hair into a simple bun. Looking calm and professional, Hermione went and sat silently at her small kitchen table. For the remaining time she did nothing other than think about what she was going to do when she saw Harry and Ron. Her nails clicked rhythmically against the tabletop as she chewed her lip.
Inexorably, the minutes ticked by and Hermione reluctantly Apparated to the Ministry. She appeared in the Apparation area and stood silently for a moment. The Ministry was a startlingly white building, charmed to be bigger on the inside than the out. Apparation wards, similar to the ones at Hogwarts, had been cast on it. Hermione slowly walked up the steps and inside the Ministry. As always, the reception area was busy with witches and wizards rushing back and forth.
Hermione stepped nervously up to the reception desk and caught the attention of a frazzled clerk. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. I was…"
"Ah, yes, Ms. Granger. The Minister is expecting you. Wand please." Hermione handed it over, ignoring her niggling feeling of apprehension at doing so.
The witch muttered "Recondo Virga Granger" and Hermione's wand disappeared from her hand. "Ms. Granger, you may take that levivator over there to the Minister's personal office. I hope you have a pleasant stay at the Ministry."
"Thank you," Hermione said, but the witch had already turned to help another visitor. She slowly walked over the levivator indicated. Two Aurors stood outside it. The one on the right coughed to get her attention. "Ms. Granger? Would you mind submitting to the Scan?"
Although she really had no choice if she wanted to see the Minister, Hermione nodded and was handed a small globe that appeared to be made of yellow glass. The Auror on the left wore glasses with yellow lenses. He looked at her briefly and nodded. "She's clean."
"Please hold the Scan Stone until the levivator reaches the Minister's office, Ms. Granger. You may then hand it to the secretary there." The Auror then punched the call button and the doors slid open automatically.
The levivators were something that Hermione found somewhat amusing. The looked and acted like the mechanical elevators of the muggle world. However, if one were to look in the levivator shaft, there would be no cables, no gears. The levivator cabin magically lifted itself up and down without any visible help and could easily be enchanted to move sideways, diagonally, or in any other direction desired. There was even speculation that they could be enchanted to enter other worlds or dimensions.
Another Auror stood in the levivator, also wearing glasses of yellow. She glanced briefly at Hermione, and then allowed the doors to close. The cabin ascended with incredible speed; in all too short a time it came to a halt and the doors opened. Reluctantly, Hermione exited and entered the office suite of the Minister of Magic.
There were no other visitors in the waiting room, only a bored-looking wizard behind a desk. "Hermione Granger?" he asked, scarcely looking at her as he held out his hand for the Scan Stone. Hermione nodded curtly as she handed it over. The wizard promptly then pointed to a grandiose set of wood-carved doors. "They're waiting for you in there."
Hermione hesitated. "I assume that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley have already arrived?"
He sighed. "Didn't you hear me? Of course they're already here. They're both waiting with the Minister for you."
Hermione still stood in place, looking at the doors and hearing the frantic beating of her heart.
"Do you need a swift kick to help you inside?"
Shooting a glare at the wizard, Hermione took in a quick breath. This is it. Gathering up her resolve, Hermione forced herself forward and pushed the doors open.
The office was huge. She quickly saw Fudge sitting idly behind his rich cherry wood desk. Behind him were two large windows that overlooked the front of the Ministry, framed with dark purple curtains. In front of the desk she saw Ron and Harry seated in two of the three chairs provided. Both turned at the sound of the opening door and she had her first full look at them in three years.
Ron looked very odd. He wore dark blue formal robes. Always tall and skinny, his eyes were still a deep blue, his face still freckled. His hair, however, had radically changed since Hermione had seen him last. Instead of the Weasley wild red, his had darkened to a deep auburn. It almost didn't seem like Ron without the vibrant mop of red.
Harry, if it could be believed, looked even odder. He had grown taller, although not quite as tall as Ron, and skinnier as well. His black wizard robes were quite worn and patched. And it seemed as if some of the rumors were true; his black hair had been recently shaved and slowly was growing back in. He had also started a small, horrible goatee. But his eyes were the strangest, even stranger than Ron's hair. Instead of the brilliant emerald, they had become a washed out pale lime.
The scar, a recognizable Harry Potter feature, was still there.
As she stood there staring at them Hermione thought, How did these changes come about? Were they a result of destroying Voldemort? Do I look as strange to them as they look to me?
Fudge coughed, jerking Hermione out of her thoughts. "Hermione? Would you like to sit down?"
With an effort she tore her eyes away and nodded to Fudge, then took the remaining chair. Predictably Harry and Ron had sat as far apart from each other as possible, leaving only the middle one open. She sat down, keeping eyes carefully forward.
Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, harrumphed and looked down at the nonexistent papers on his desk. "As you already know, I have called you here today for a very important reason. Let me first say that I'm glad that everyone could come."
"When are we going to be done?" snapped Ron. "I have a meeting to get to." His voice had deepened a bit during the years but still held that sarcastic, stinging quality.
Fudge smiled ingratiatingly. "Ronald, we'll be done as soon as we can. If you need to orb or owl someone to tell them you'll miss the your meeting, you're welcome to do so at any time. Do I need to excuse you right now?"
Ron sighed impatiently. "No, It can wait."
"Well, then, I'll continue. You three are here because, recently, there has been a string of murders. At first they were all thought to be unconnected but recent events have shown otherwise. It has become quite clear that not only were they committed by the same person, but that the person has been copying the many murders of the late Tom Riddle."
Harry snorted. "This isn't a surprise. Others have copied him before now, haven't they?" Harry's voice, as opposed to Ron's, had developed a hissing quality. It was softer and more sibilant.
Fudge nodded. "Quite right, Harry. There have been wizards in the past three years who have tried to borrow from Mr. Riddle's…notoriety. However, those killings were not widespread and the murderers were caught quite quickly. The Aurors In Charge for this case have informed me that we're dealing with someone a bit more dangerous."
Hermione leaned forward, intrigued despite herself. "Dangerous? How so?"
"You will find out shortly, Hermione. Ms. Silvers and Mr. Quentin, from the Wizard Bureau of Investigation, Department of the Magical Law Enforcement, will inform you about the situation. They are infinitely more informed of the details than I am." Fudge laced his fingers together. "As the AIC, they want you to re-testify about the Downfall. The three of you were not only instrumental in bringing it about but are also the only living witnesses."
"Don't you have transcripts, or records, or something? I already went through all that three years ago!" Ron said, shifting his weight in his chair.
"We do Ronald. However, Ms. Silvers and Mr. Quentin were most insistent that they hear the account first-hand and be able to ask questions."
Hermione sat silent. Not only would she have to go through the whole nasty ordeal again, she had to do so with both Ron and Harry around. I would do almost anything to escape this situation.
"The WBI is fully aware that you will have to miss work or engagements to accommodate their wishes," continued Fudge. "They are fully prepared to reimburse you generously for your time spent here. One galleon per hour will be transferred to your Gringott's account. If you have problems with this amount, please ask either Mr. Quentin or Ms. Silvers and they will do what they can.
"That is all for now. As Minister, I appreciate your cooperation. I believe that Mrs. Silvers and Mr. Quentin are ready for you. If you'll wait outside, I'll contact them."
Fudge sat there obviously waiting for them to leave. Hermione slowly stood up and left the room with Harry and Ron behind her. The waiting room outside was empty except for the secretary wizard, who looked at them in interest as Hermione, Ron, and Harry gazed at each other uneasily. The silence quickly became unbearable. Finally, Hermione couldn't stand it; even if they weren't best friends anymore, they could still converse politely. She opened her mouth and said the first thing that popped in her mind.
"So how have you two been?" Oh bloody hell, that sounds pathetic.
Harry stared at her, one black eyebrow raised. "How have we been? What sort of question is that? I'm surprised that one was chosen over 'How is the weather?', which is even more trite."
"You're such a brilliant conversationalist, Granger." Ron said sarcastically, crossing his arms. "Honestly, someone with as much worthless knowledge as you should be able to come up with something better."
Hermione took a step backwards, her fingers itching for her wand. Reason number one why the Ministry confiscates them. "Well, nobody else was saying anything. Did you want to stand in uncomfortable silence? We could at least be civil!"
Ron snorted. "Oh, civil? We were supposed to be civil? Terribly sorry, I must have missed that memo. Sarcastic and bitter will just have to do."
Harry narrowed his eyes at Ron. "You know, she does have a point. You don't have to be so nasty."
"Nasty? You want to know what's nasty? Traitors with shaved heads! Were you featured in the fashion section of 'Betrayer's Weekly'?"
"I don't think there's such a publication," piped up the reception wizard, who was watching the exchange with a big grin on his face.
"Oh, sod off!" Harry snapped.
"Are we interrupting something?"
Hermione whipped around to see a man and woman had arrived at the waiting room. They both wore black robes with Auror badges on the left breast.
The man gave a small smile when he saw he had their attention. He looked approximately thirty and had thinning blond hair and dark brown eyes. "Are you done? I had the impression that Mr. Weasley was under a time constraint. If not, we can wait for you three to stop bickering like small children."
Embarrassed, Hermione shook her head. "No, we're done…discussing." Ron muttered under his breath behind her but didn't argue.
"How lovely for us," said the woman with a completely straight face. She had glossy black hair cut into a short pageboy style and serious gray eyes. "Would you please follow?"
Both Aurors turned on their heels and re-entered the open levivator. Hermione followed with Harry behind her and Ron last. There was relative silence as they rode it back down to the reception area. After arriving, Ms. Silvers and Mr. Quentin ushered them into a separate levivator that went back up a few floors. When the door slid open, they exited into a long hall with lots of doors.
"Conference rooms," Ms. Silvers said shortly. They all walked down the hallway for a while until she pulled the door open to one. "Please enter."
The conference room was relatively bare, lit by the magical candles on the walls. A circular table with five chairs took up half the room. Nobody else was there.
All five sat. Hermione managed to get a seat between the Auror witch and Harry. While she didn't want to sit next to either of them, Harry seemed to be acting slightly more polite. Ron sat on the left of Harry, and Mr. Quentin sat to the right of Ms. Silvers. Because of the table's shape, the Aurors ended up facing the trio. The Aurors In Charge then pulled out identical Quick-Quotes Quills and notepads. Laying both on the table, the quills sprang up at attention on the notepads waiting to take notes.
Ms. Silvers politely coughed and the quills began to scribble. "I assume that you have all worked it out that I am AIC Guinevere Silvers and this is AIC Thomas Quentin. We have been assigned by the WBI as Aurors In Charge of this case regarding the recent rash of killings. As I'm sure the Minister told you, we strongly suspect that the murderer is a copycat. Specifically, the murderer is imitating the lamentable actions of Tom Riddle."
Hermione furrowed her brow. "The Minister wouldn't tell us why you suspected a murderer was copying Voldemort. Could you explain, perhaps?"
Ms. Silvers looked significantly at her partner. Mr. Quentin cleared his throat. "Well, six weeks ago the three unicorns in the 'Magical Cool Creatures' Zoo were brutally killed and drained of all their blood. Not long after that, there were the Petrified cases. Six people were attacked by what we determined to be the basilisk stare. Unfortunately, the Mandrake Potion didn't have the desired effect. They were unPetrified but died immediately upon revivification. Clearly someone had gone to great lengths to make the victims look as if they'd been Petrified by a basilisk.
"Next, there were a couple more deaths in which the Mediwizards have ascertained that the Unforgivable Curse 'Avada Kedavra' was used. However what distinguished these deaths was the fact that the victims were found dead with their right hands chopped off. And recently, the Trevelin family were murdered by means of the Burning Potion."
Hermione blinked. "I see. The unicorn in the Forbidden was killed our first year at Hogwarts. And then I and others were petrified my second year. Cedric died through Avada Kedavra our fourth year, although his hand was certainly not chopped off. And fifth year, all of Hogwarts was nearly poisoned with the Burning Potion. If Crabbe hadn't been greedy and drank the Butterbeer before everyone else…although no one determined if the attempted poisoning was Voldemort's actions or someone else's."
Ms. Silvers nodded. "Until recently we did not associate all the events with one another. They were treated as separate cases before, but after the 'Avada Kedavra' victims, the research department suggested they might be connected. After the Trevelin deaths, it was confirmed."
"We want to talk to you three. Now that we have established a pattern, we're hoping to catch the murderer before the next killing, but there's the possibility that the murderer could continue the pattern right through to the Downfall. We therefore want to hear from you three firsthand how the Downfall came about," finished Mr. Quentin, "so we can understand it and, one can hope, prevent it."
Harry coughed. "Aren't we in danger then? Won't the murderer try to capture us? And kill us? Not that I'm worried," he said calmly, "but I'd rather know when someone is out to murder me."
Ms. Silvers nodded slowly. "Quite right, Mr. Potter, you three are all in danger. That's why we want to restrict you to the Ministry grounds."
"What?" Ron sat up in alarm. "You can't do that. I have a job and responsibilities. You can't keep me here at the Ministry against my will."
Leaning back in her chair, Ms. Silvers glared at Ron. "You're quite right Mr. Weasley. We want to restrict you three to the Ministry but we can only request that you stay on the grounds. Are you satisfied?" Ron nodded curtly. "But that's beside the point. Right now, we request each of you to recount your experiences of the Downfall so that we might better understand the events that happened. Who would like to go first?"
Nobody said anything. Hermione stared at the table and had the suspicion that both Ron and Harry were doing the same.
Ms. Silvers sighed. "Why don't we start with Mr. Potter? I understand that you were absolutely necessary in the plan to bring about the Downfall, weren't you?"
Hermione looked up to see Harry nod slowly. "Yes. Voldemort had my blood in his veins and Dumbledore was able to use that to devise a spell that would kill him. The 'Destructius' spell."
Mr. Quentin smiled and leaned forward. "Mr. Potter, why don't you start from when you, Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Granger left Hogwarts to go to Voldemort?"
Harry took a deep breath and focused his eyes on the farthest wall. "There isn't much to say. We each left with a small backpack. We didn't need much, just some food and ourselves. About halfway to the castle, we split up. Since it was assumed that Voldemort's castle was an exact copy of Hogwarts, we planned on meeting back up in one of the towers."
"Why exactly did you decide to separate?" asked Ms. Silvers.
Well, see, we were each carrying quite a bit of power on us. Not only did we have the Iunctura bond, but also a very potent spell to destroy a powerful wizard. Together, it was very easy for anyone to spot us if they could read power signatures. Apart, we were less noticeable. It seemed the best way to go about it at the time," Harry ended bitterly.
"I see. What happened after you split up?"
"Well," swallowed Harry, "I went on for a time alone. I got within viewing distance of the castle when Dementors and Death Eaters ambushed me. Stupid of me, really, they were obviously on watch for some sort of attack. They knocked me out and when I woke up, I was in a locked room.
"After awhile, Voldemort came to see me. He…he wanted to know where Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley were supposed to be. He said if I didn't tell him, he would curse me to act insane. In my mind I would be fine, but everyone else would think I wasn't. I would be locked in my mind, in a sense."
"Yes, the 'Dementis' curse, a spell we didn't know about until your return from the castle. Apparently the Longbottoms and several others were afflicted with it. Now, how did you respond to Mr. Riddle's proposition?"
Harry looked at the table again, wringing his hands nervously. "I…er…I told him to jump in a lake. He grabbed me and cast the curse."
"And?"
Harry mumbled, "Before it could affect me completely, I told him where Hermione and Ron were supposed to meet me and he lifted it. Only…" Harry stopped there, not willing to say anything else.
"Mr. Potter, are you all right?"
"Oh, he's just brilliant," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Who wouldn't want to remember a traumatic experience?"
"Mr. Weasley, please be silent!" Mr. Quentin turned back to Harry. "Mr. Potter, can you go on?"
Harry shook his head. "I'd rather not."
"Well," said Ms. Silvers, "since Mr. Weasley seems outspoken right now, why doesn't he go next?"
Ron snorted, leaning back in his chair. "I don't see what good it'll do. My story is remarkably similar to Potter's. We split up; I got jumped and stuck in a room. Voldemort came wanting information, and I told him he was an ugly git. He cast that bloody Dementis curse and I spilled the beans. If you want to write my story, I'm charging a hundred galleons an hour."
Ms. Silvers ignored Ron's last remark. "Mr. Weasley, what happened after you told Voldemort where Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter were?"
Ron looked at the table and was quiet for a second. "Well, Voldemort then told me that he already had Granger and Potter. He told me that I had betrayed them for nothing and they had betrayed me as well. It wasn't a nice feeling."
"Mr. Weasley, I'm not interested in feelings. Why would you believe him when Voldemort has no cause to tell the truth?"
"Did he have a reason to lie? Not that it mattered, I still…" Ron stopped and scowled at the table. "Listen, I wasn't thinking logically at the time. I just believed him and as it turned out, he was telling the truth."
"What happened next, Mr. Weasley?"
Ron glared at Ms. Silvers. "Voldemort left me in my room in a stupor until a Death Eater came and got me. I really don't know what happened after that, I wasn't aware of anything. Anything that I do know from that point on, I read from the papers. You should ask know-it-all Granger about Voldemort's plans since The Boy Who Turned Traitor won't talk."
Harry flinched. "Listen, Ronald, I wasn't the only one who talked. There are two others in this room and you're one of them!"
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley! Please be silent!" After glaring at them, Ms. Silvers turned to Hermione. "Ms. Granger, what happened after you were brought to the Great Hall?"
Hermione swallowed. "I remember that Voldemort began to spout a lot of nonsense. He said that it was time for power and that he had broken us all. He…he planned to kill Harry, which would open up a lot of power to him. He was going to kill Ron and me, so that he could control the influx of power. It seemed as if he thought this power was deserved to him and the Death Eaters. I know that he mentioned dominating the world."
"Obviously, he didn't get that power. What was happening while Voldemort was talking?"
"Uh, well, I was still…numb. From the Dementis curse and the shock of…" Hermione waved her hand and Mr. Quentin nodded for her to go on. "But I still was aware that Voldemort had to be stopped. I couldn't move much, didn't want to move, but I managed to…catch Harry's eyes."
"Mr. Potter, is that true?"
Harry nodded, his eyes stuck on the table.
"Ms. Granger?"
"Er, at this point, Voldemort pulled out a sort of dagger."
"What did it look like?" asked Mr. Quentin.
"Well, it was silver. I think it had a black handle. And the blade wasn't straight, it was in a zigzag pattern."
Ms. Silvers stopped her Quick-Quotes Quill for a moment and pushed it and the notepad over to Hermione. "Could you draw it Ms. Granger?" Hermione did so. Ms. Silvers pulled the parchment back and studied it for a moment. "What happened next?"
"Harry jumped to the side. I ran forward and held Voldemort's arm, stopping him from slashing down with his knife. Harry then grabbed Ron and me and both of us shouted the trigger words," said Hermione in a tremendous rush.
"Ah. I see. And then what happened?"
Hermione looked down at the table, unwilling to look into Ms. Silvers' penetrating eyes. "All I remember is a sort of fire springing up and Voldemort exploding all over us. I passed out and when I woke up, I was at St. Mungo's."
Ms. Silvers and Mr. Quentin looked at each other in exasperation. Then, for the next couple of hours, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were subjected to never ending questions on the details of what happened. How exactly they were captured, what they felt when the Dementis curse was put on them, why they felt like Voldemort was telling them the truth when he threatened them. Their most penetrating questions were on how Harry and Hermione were able to communicate with each other through their eyes. This point seemed to hold a fascination for both of the Aurors.
"So you asked him to care about things through your eyes? And he responded?"
Hermione gritted her teeth. "It appears so. Why don't you ask Mr. Potter?"
"Mr. Potter? Did you understand what Hermione was thinking at you?"
Harry nodded slowly. "I think it was an effect of the Iunctura bond. She wanted me to kill Voldemort. I was certain of that much."
"Ms. Weasley," said Mr. Quentin, "did you not hear this exchange? You were still under the influence of the Iunctura bond as well."
"I don't remember hearing anything," admitted Ron moodily. "But I don't think I was up to hearing, though. Blocked inside."
"Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter, what made both of you suddenly care about the situation you were in?"
Both Harry and Hermione were silent at that question. "Well?" said Ms. Silvers impatiently. "Are you both deaf? What made you suddenly care?"
"I don't know," said Hermione quietly. "I just did."
"You mean in three years, you never asked yourself how you managed to pull yourself out of your apathy? I find that hard to believe," said Mr. Quentin, shaking his head.
Ron sat up in his seat. "I can answer it for you if you're in such a bother about it."
Mr. Quentin swiveled in his chair and looked at Ron. "Enlighten us, Mr. Weasley. I'm eager to hear your hypothesis."
Ron shrugged. "Granger has always had a huge sense of responsibility. That's what prompted her to do something in the first place. While Potter doesn't normally feel much responsibility, he always has where Voldemort is concerned, " Ron continued with a small smile, "Furthermore, he liked her at the time and would have kissed a Blast-Ended Skrewt if she asked him to."
"Excuse me?" said Hermione, staring at Ron.
"Ron!" Harry hissed, pushing back in his chair. "What the bloody…"
Ron snickered. "Eh, what's got you all bothered, Potter. It was three years ago. Shouldn't she know?"
Hermione turned to Harry. "You liked me? Me?"
He grimaced. "Yes! No! I mean," he finally sighed, "I did at the time."
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
He shrugged. "Well…"
"Charming as this insight is, can we please get back to the matter at hand?" Ms. Silvers interjected. "Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, is Mr. Weasley correct? Was a feeling of responsibility and affection the reason?"
"Maybe. I still don't know," mumbled Hermione, much put out.
Harry met Hermione's eyes. "He was wrong about Hermione. At that point, I didn't like her anymore," said Harry, enunciating each word. Hermione stiffened in anger and ripped her gaze away.
Mr. Quentin looked at his watch. "Gwen, I think we need to cut this short for now. We have that briefing…"
Ms. Silvers looked at her watch as well and sighed. She glared seriously at the three of them. "We still have more questions to ask. However, we don't have any more time for those today. Please report here again tomorrow at nine o'clock."
Ron groaned. "What? More questions? Are all Aurors so talkative?"
"Mr. Weasley," snapped Ms. Silvers, "I'm quite tired of hearing your complaints. Yes, we have more questions. We need to learn as much about the Downfall as possible. Rest assured, you're not the only ones we're questioning. We're also talking to many Hogwarts students who were in the school during the time. We're trying to figure out where the murderer will strike and how before it actually happens. If you cooperate, we can probably finish tomorrow."
Hermione grumbled, but nodded. "Can we go, then?"
"Well, there is the matter of housing." Ms. Silvers held up a hand to forestall the outburst from Ron. "That is, if you wish to be under the protection of the Ministry. Of course, if you do turn the offer down, you won't be able to blame the Ministry later if you're captured and tortured. Do any of you wish to take advantage of the Ministry's generous proposition?"
Hermione shook her head, along with Ron. Harry coughed. "I need some housing. I'm staying in the Leaky Cauldron but won't say no to some free boarding."
"Well then, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley are free to leave. Don't forget, be here tomorrow at nine sharp!"
Relieved, Hermione got up and practically ran for the door. She escaped out into the hallway, Ron right behind her. Ignoring him, Hermione broke into a brisk walk towards the levivator.
Upon arriving, she promptly pushed the call button. Ron came to a halt next to her and they both stood awkwardly for a moment. Hermione struggled for something neutral to say.
"So, what meeting are you going to?"
Ron looked at her quickly. "One with George and Fred." When Hermione cast him a puzzled glance, he sighed. "Oh, really Hermione, do you keep your head in the sand? Remember that George and Fred started Weasley's Wizard Wheezes? Well, I'm their head salesman."
"Oh." Hermione paused, taking in this new information. "So, the company is doing well then? Even though the economy is hellish?"
He nodded his head. "I mean things aren't fantastic. We've had to lay off several production wizards because not as many of our clients are buying merchandise and the sales department is shrinking, but we're a darn sight better than some."
"Well, that's good." The levivator's doors slid open. Ron and Hermione entered and were silent as they traveled back to the main lobby.
Once there, Hermione got her wand back (the witch muttered 'Usurpo Virga Granger' and it appeared with a little 'pop') and left the Ministry building without saying anything more to Ron. Emerging out into the day, Hermione stuffed her wand into the robe's pockets and Apparated away.