(A/N: It's not a SILLY story per say, its just more cliché than I usually
lean to. Oh well, please read and review. Please, mon lieblings?)
Hermione unlocked the door to her flat and immediately threw herself onto her couch, moving her cat Tybalt over. It was nearly nine o'clock—she had spent way too much time at the office than she had planned. Shrugging, she entered her kitchen. Hermione poured herself a bowl of Fruity Pebbles and began to eat her dinner, deliberately ignoring the imaginary complaints of her mother.
After her parents became victims of Voldemort, she had heard their voices everywhere. This was odd in many ways, considering she had rarely spoken to them during their lives. But every conversation Hermione and her parents had during her entire life manifested itself and appeared constantly. Every remark they had made about the Wizarding world suddenly was full of forbidding and omens. Now it was ten years later and Hermione was still trying to suppress their warnings and beliefs.
"I'm too tired for dinner and I'll brush my teeth directly after I finish," Hermione told herself, taking a bit of the cereal. She finished, washed her bowl and brushed her teeth. After completing these menial tasks, she settled down on the couch once more and opened her daily planner.
She quickly planned the next day's activities to be fulfilled and reports that had to be completed. Stretching, she stood up and stroked her sleeping cat. Crookshanks had died five years ago and after a grieving period, she had purchased Tybalt.
Sighing, Hermione glanced across her apartment to her desk. Underneath a dozen papers lay an unopened letter from Harry Potter. She knew that she owed him a response—after all, they were best friends for eight years and he been her chief comforter after her parents' deaths. The letter said nothing that Hermione hadn't heard before—how she should rejoin the Order, prepare some defense for when the next Dark Time would come, how the stage was setting for that time. He would make a casual reference to Ginny Weasley's condition—she still lay in a coma from the last battle ten years prior. Then the letter would urge her to contact Ron and make peace with him. Finally, it would be signed "Your Friend, Harry Potter".
After a dozen of these letters, Hermione had stopped explaining her actions and making excuses. Harry, Ginny, Ron.... it was sad, but they were no longer part of her life. They were her life back when she was a teenager, back when they all had a unifying purpose and unlimited courage. The fight was over and so was that era of her life.
"I'll write him a note tomorrow," declared Hermione weakly, knowing fully that she would procrastinate and not do it. Shrugging, she changed for bed and turned off the light.
Her alarm clock went off at five o'clock with the same song as it did every day. The Fates played a cruel joke on Hermione—every morning at five, the song "Believe" by Cher came on. Hermione hated Cher.
She smacked the OFF button and got up. She showered and dressed carefully, as she did every day. Hermione didn't know much about clothing and fashion, but she did have difficulty looking young and commanding at the same time. Shoving her feet into her work shoes, she grabbed a banana and locked her door. Usually she enjoyed the half-mile walk to the Research Department but today she hurried along the road, anxious to arrive. She mentally reviewed all she had accomplished the previous day and what she must accomplish that day.
"Good morning," Hermione said haphazardly as she entered the building. All conversation stopped as she entered the Conference Room. "Why isn't anyone sitting?" she said nervously.
The scientists and employees shuffled their feet and looked at the floor.
"Mr. Bernard?" She turned to Daryl, who refused to meet her eyes.
"Ms. Granger, perhaps we could go to your office and I'll explain...." He trailed off. She nodded briskly and motioned for him to follow her.
The door was securely closed before Daryl began. "I'll spare you the formalities. There was a robbery last night."
Hermione groped blindly for her chair before she sat down. "What was stolen?" she asked, knowing full well what he was about to tell her . "The Emerald and all the extracts. Their vault was completely emptied."
"Was my office broken into?"
"No, the offices were intact." Daryl's words were not out of his mouth before Hermione was furiously opening the locks on her personal vault.
"Eureka!" she shirked in joy. The extracts were still wrapped up, exactly as she left them twelve hours ago. "All is not lost," she breathed at last.
"How.... why are they there?" asked her assistant, full of relief.
"Last night, I was too tired to walk to the Department's safe, so I just locked them in mine," blushed Hermione, embarrassed to admit her laziness.
"How much of the Stone were you able to extract?"
Hermione shook her head sadly. "Not all of it. The Stone is still too powerful to simply be ignored. If it gets into the wrong hands, it could cause some serious destruction. I think."
"You think? Is it evil or isn't it?"
"We haven't exactly had it very long," Hermione defended. "We don't know the full constraints and powers of the Emerald." She glanced at her watch. "Why don't you call the Ministry and let them know what happened?"
"Sure. We wanted to do it as soon as we got in, but we figured we should wait for you. In case you had taken it home or something," explained Daryl.
"I wish I had," said Hermione sadly. "Isn't it strange that it was stolen yesterday? I really wish I had given the Emerald to those two agents."
"I'll go call the Ministry."
"I want to go look at the holding room, where they were." Hermione put down her briefcase and took off her coat. "Has someone looked at the security tapes yet?"
Daryl shook his head. "Nothing has been done."
Still deeply upset, Hermione struggled to remain composed. As her steps echoed down the hall, she began to make connections and decipher exactly what had happened the previous day.
"In the morning, the men from the Dept. of Mysteries came," she reviewed. "Smithee and Drakes. The Minister dispatched them to express concern over our lax security and.... I'm going to be fired!" she wailed. Sucking in her breath, she entered the room with the vaults. She unlocked the safe and saw for herself what she knew was true. "Okay. The Emerald is definitely not in here," she declared. Sighing weakly, she reached for her wand out of her pocket. "I'm aware this won't work, but it's worth a try. Accio Emerald!"
Nothing happened. To her dismay, she realized that that was a worthless waste of time.
Hermione locked up the safe and left the room, journeying to the Security department. "Good morning," she greeted.
Bill Abbot and Helga McCaffery silenced her. "We're watching the tapes of the entire day," explained Helga as she paused the tape. "Even though we have the volume up, the slightest noise could override what we're looking for." "And what is that?"
"Most spells make a small noise." Bill pointed to the screen. "If someone apparated inside the vault and then disapperated, we might be able to hear it with the correct applied technology." Hermione nodded. "I won't disturb you."
She returned to Daryl's station outside her office. "Did you contact the Ministry?" He nodded, covering the receiver on his telephone. The Ministry had developed a kind of magical telephone that most offices used. "They sent an Auror over and are preparing a team for the investigation."
"Wonderful." She turned to her office. "I'm not fired, right?"
Daryl laughed. "No, they didn't mention that."
She opened the door to her office and let out a muffled scream. Harry Potter himself was poking around in her office, sifting through papers and playing with her stapler.
"Good morning, Harry," she said calmly. She held out her hand. "I'm sorry that we have to see each other under such unhappy circumstances."
"No, you're not," said Harry expressionlessly. "But it is nice to see you.. Mind if I sit down?"
"Not at all," answered Hermione, sitting on the executive side of her desk. "Can I offer you anything? Coffee, maybe?"
"No, thank you." He rubbed his hands together. "Why don't you tell me why I'm here, what the story is, what's being done.... etcetera?"
Hermione sighed. "To begin from the very beginning, I came here as an intern, I helped with the Emerald—"
Harry stopped her. "I read that much in the newspaper yesterday."
"So you know the whole story! Why don't I just tell you about how yesterday..."
"I don't know the whole story," he interrupted. "I only know what the newspaper told me, which was basically your hair color and age."
Hermione blushed. "Fine. We recently extracted many of the magical properties of the Eyad Emerald, where we believe much of our Wizarding powers came from. We know that magic is old, but scientists really have no idea how magic appeared. Our breakthroughs with this gem were leading us to a link between the Emerald and our heritage.
Yesterday," she continued. "We had a surprise visit from the Department of Mysteries. Two agents, Agent Smithee and Agent Drakes."
"Did you see their badges?" Harry stared at her. "You did ask to see their badges, right?"
"I only met with them for about five minutes," admitted Hermione. "My assistant Daryl Bernard met with them and argued with them about security before I entered."
"They wanted to know about security?"
"They said that the Ministry had sent them. They were worried about the Emerald and our "lax security", claiming the Minister was afraid that such a powerful relic would be stolen."
"They aren't members of the Ministry," concluded Harry. "They would have brought a written order."
"Shit!" cursed Hermione.
"Why, happened next?"
"We err, exchanged harsh words. Actually, there was no exchanging." Hermione blushed, recalling her behavior. "I basically told them to tell the Minister to mind his own business and we could handle our own." She though for a moment. "Maybe it's best that they are fake agents—otherwise, I'd surely be fired."
"Did you allow them to see any of your experiments?"
"No, after I left them I retrieved the Emerald and extracts from the vaults. I don't think they followed me, but I can't back that up."
Harry was making notes on a notebook. "Continue."
"After retrieving the stone, I returned here and worked until maybe five o'clock. Daryl—my assistant," she elaborated. "Daryl came in and commented on the two agents and how they didn't leave their cards. I wrapped up the Emerald and asked him to lock it up for me. Then I told him that there was really nothing left for him to do and he could leave. I continued working on the extracts until I realized I needed my research team. Then I wrapped up my work and locked in my personal safe, over there." She pointed across the room.
"What time did you finish and leave?"
Hermione hesitated. "Between 8 and a quarter to 9. I got home at 9 and it's a ten-minute walk. I probably left at a quarter to 9," she concluded.
Harry smiled. "Was anyone in the office when you left?"
Hermione laughed out loud. "Of course not, the work day ends at five thirty. There was someone on night watch in the Security Room, but I don't know the schedule."
"I see. Mind if I look around for awhile?" he asked, getting up.
"No, not at all," lied Hermione. She secretly couldn't wait for him to leave—his presence was making her uncomfortable.
"Looks like we're all going to be working together again," he commented as he continued poking around her safe.
"Who's all of us?" asked Hermione, looking up from her paperwork.
Harry looked up in surprise. "You. Me. Ron."
"Swell," said Hermione. "Absolutely perfect."
Hermione unlocked the door to her flat and immediately threw herself onto her couch, moving her cat Tybalt over. It was nearly nine o'clock—she had spent way too much time at the office than she had planned. Shrugging, she entered her kitchen. Hermione poured herself a bowl of Fruity Pebbles and began to eat her dinner, deliberately ignoring the imaginary complaints of her mother.
After her parents became victims of Voldemort, she had heard their voices everywhere. This was odd in many ways, considering she had rarely spoken to them during their lives. But every conversation Hermione and her parents had during her entire life manifested itself and appeared constantly. Every remark they had made about the Wizarding world suddenly was full of forbidding and omens. Now it was ten years later and Hermione was still trying to suppress their warnings and beliefs.
"I'm too tired for dinner and I'll brush my teeth directly after I finish," Hermione told herself, taking a bit of the cereal. She finished, washed her bowl and brushed her teeth. After completing these menial tasks, she settled down on the couch once more and opened her daily planner.
She quickly planned the next day's activities to be fulfilled and reports that had to be completed. Stretching, she stood up and stroked her sleeping cat. Crookshanks had died five years ago and after a grieving period, she had purchased Tybalt.
Sighing, Hermione glanced across her apartment to her desk. Underneath a dozen papers lay an unopened letter from Harry Potter. She knew that she owed him a response—after all, they were best friends for eight years and he been her chief comforter after her parents' deaths. The letter said nothing that Hermione hadn't heard before—how she should rejoin the Order, prepare some defense for when the next Dark Time would come, how the stage was setting for that time. He would make a casual reference to Ginny Weasley's condition—she still lay in a coma from the last battle ten years prior. Then the letter would urge her to contact Ron and make peace with him. Finally, it would be signed "Your Friend, Harry Potter".
After a dozen of these letters, Hermione had stopped explaining her actions and making excuses. Harry, Ginny, Ron.... it was sad, but they were no longer part of her life. They were her life back when she was a teenager, back when they all had a unifying purpose and unlimited courage. The fight was over and so was that era of her life.
"I'll write him a note tomorrow," declared Hermione weakly, knowing fully that she would procrastinate and not do it. Shrugging, she changed for bed and turned off the light.
Her alarm clock went off at five o'clock with the same song as it did every day. The Fates played a cruel joke on Hermione—every morning at five, the song "Believe" by Cher came on. Hermione hated Cher.
She smacked the OFF button and got up. She showered and dressed carefully, as she did every day. Hermione didn't know much about clothing and fashion, but she did have difficulty looking young and commanding at the same time. Shoving her feet into her work shoes, she grabbed a banana and locked her door. Usually she enjoyed the half-mile walk to the Research Department but today she hurried along the road, anxious to arrive. She mentally reviewed all she had accomplished the previous day and what she must accomplish that day.
"Good morning," Hermione said haphazardly as she entered the building. All conversation stopped as she entered the Conference Room. "Why isn't anyone sitting?" she said nervously.
The scientists and employees shuffled their feet and looked at the floor.
"Mr. Bernard?" She turned to Daryl, who refused to meet her eyes.
"Ms. Granger, perhaps we could go to your office and I'll explain...." He trailed off. She nodded briskly and motioned for him to follow her.
The door was securely closed before Daryl began. "I'll spare you the formalities. There was a robbery last night."
Hermione groped blindly for her chair before she sat down. "What was stolen?" she asked, knowing full well what he was about to tell her . "The Emerald and all the extracts. Their vault was completely emptied."
"Was my office broken into?"
"No, the offices were intact." Daryl's words were not out of his mouth before Hermione was furiously opening the locks on her personal vault.
"Eureka!" she shirked in joy. The extracts were still wrapped up, exactly as she left them twelve hours ago. "All is not lost," she breathed at last.
"How.... why are they there?" asked her assistant, full of relief.
"Last night, I was too tired to walk to the Department's safe, so I just locked them in mine," blushed Hermione, embarrassed to admit her laziness.
"How much of the Stone were you able to extract?"
Hermione shook her head sadly. "Not all of it. The Stone is still too powerful to simply be ignored. If it gets into the wrong hands, it could cause some serious destruction. I think."
"You think? Is it evil or isn't it?"
"We haven't exactly had it very long," Hermione defended. "We don't know the full constraints and powers of the Emerald." She glanced at her watch. "Why don't you call the Ministry and let them know what happened?"
"Sure. We wanted to do it as soon as we got in, but we figured we should wait for you. In case you had taken it home or something," explained Daryl.
"I wish I had," said Hermione sadly. "Isn't it strange that it was stolen yesterday? I really wish I had given the Emerald to those two agents."
"I'll go call the Ministry."
"I want to go look at the holding room, where they were." Hermione put down her briefcase and took off her coat. "Has someone looked at the security tapes yet?"
Daryl shook his head. "Nothing has been done."
Still deeply upset, Hermione struggled to remain composed. As her steps echoed down the hall, she began to make connections and decipher exactly what had happened the previous day.
"In the morning, the men from the Dept. of Mysteries came," she reviewed. "Smithee and Drakes. The Minister dispatched them to express concern over our lax security and.... I'm going to be fired!" she wailed. Sucking in her breath, she entered the room with the vaults. She unlocked the safe and saw for herself what she knew was true. "Okay. The Emerald is definitely not in here," she declared. Sighing weakly, she reached for her wand out of her pocket. "I'm aware this won't work, but it's worth a try. Accio Emerald!"
Nothing happened. To her dismay, she realized that that was a worthless waste of time.
Hermione locked up the safe and left the room, journeying to the Security department. "Good morning," she greeted.
Bill Abbot and Helga McCaffery silenced her. "We're watching the tapes of the entire day," explained Helga as she paused the tape. "Even though we have the volume up, the slightest noise could override what we're looking for." "And what is that?"
"Most spells make a small noise." Bill pointed to the screen. "If someone apparated inside the vault and then disapperated, we might be able to hear it with the correct applied technology." Hermione nodded. "I won't disturb you."
She returned to Daryl's station outside her office. "Did you contact the Ministry?" He nodded, covering the receiver on his telephone. The Ministry had developed a kind of magical telephone that most offices used. "They sent an Auror over and are preparing a team for the investigation."
"Wonderful." She turned to her office. "I'm not fired, right?"
Daryl laughed. "No, they didn't mention that."
She opened the door to her office and let out a muffled scream. Harry Potter himself was poking around in her office, sifting through papers and playing with her stapler.
"Good morning, Harry," she said calmly. She held out her hand. "I'm sorry that we have to see each other under such unhappy circumstances."
"No, you're not," said Harry expressionlessly. "But it is nice to see you.. Mind if I sit down?"
"Not at all," answered Hermione, sitting on the executive side of her desk. "Can I offer you anything? Coffee, maybe?"
"No, thank you." He rubbed his hands together. "Why don't you tell me why I'm here, what the story is, what's being done.... etcetera?"
Hermione sighed. "To begin from the very beginning, I came here as an intern, I helped with the Emerald—"
Harry stopped her. "I read that much in the newspaper yesterday."
"So you know the whole story! Why don't I just tell you about how yesterday..."
"I don't know the whole story," he interrupted. "I only know what the newspaper told me, which was basically your hair color and age."
Hermione blushed. "Fine. We recently extracted many of the magical properties of the Eyad Emerald, where we believe much of our Wizarding powers came from. We know that magic is old, but scientists really have no idea how magic appeared. Our breakthroughs with this gem were leading us to a link between the Emerald and our heritage.
Yesterday," she continued. "We had a surprise visit from the Department of Mysteries. Two agents, Agent Smithee and Agent Drakes."
"Did you see their badges?" Harry stared at her. "You did ask to see their badges, right?"
"I only met with them for about five minutes," admitted Hermione. "My assistant Daryl Bernard met with them and argued with them about security before I entered."
"They wanted to know about security?"
"They said that the Ministry had sent them. They were worried about the Emerald and our "lax security", claiming the Minister was afraid that such a powerful relic would be stolen."
"They aren't members of the Ministry," concluded Harry. "They would have brought a written order."
"Shit!" cursed Hermione.
"Why, happened next?"
"We err, exchanged harsh words. Actually, there was no exchanging." Hermione blushed, recalling her behavior. "I basically told them to tell the Minister to mind his own business and we could handle our own." She though for a moment. "Maybe it's best that they are fake agents—otherwise, I'd surely be fired."
"Did you allow them to see any of your experiments?"
"No, after I left them I retrieved the Emerald and extracts from the vaults. I don't think they followed me, but I can't back that up."
Harry was making notes on a notebook. "Continue."
"After retrieving the stone, I returned here and worked until maybe five o'clock. Daryl—my assistant," she elaborated. "Daryl came in and commented on the two agents and how they didn't leave their cards. I wrapped up the Emerald and asked him to lock it up for me. Then I told him that there was really nothing left for him to do and he could leave. I continued working on the extracts until I realized I needed my research team. Then I wrapped up my work and locked in my personal safe, over there." She pointed across the room.
"What time did you finish and leave?"
Hermione hesitated. "Between 8 and a quarter to 9. I got home at 9 and it's a ten-minute walk. I probably left at a quarter to 9," she concluded.
Harry smiled. "Was anyone in the office when you left?"
Hermione laughed out loud. "Of course not, the work day ends at five thirty. There was someone on night watch in the Security Room, but I don't know the schedule."
"I see. Mind if I look around for awhile?" he asked, getting up.
"No, not at all," lied Hermione. She secretly couldn't wait for him to leave—his presence was making her uncomfortable.
"Looks like we're all going to be working together again," he commented as he continued poking around her safe.
"Who's all of us?" asked Hermione, looking up from her paperwork.
Harry looked up in surprise. "You. Me. Ron."
"Swell," said Hermione. "Absolutely perfect."