Disclaimer: Same applies for all chapters.
A/N: This isn't my favorite chapter, I was in a bit of a hurry... give me your criticism please. (o; I can handle it. Also, thanks to my five reviewers! They made me so, so, so happy. I hope you're still reading. And nobody figured out what Ginny is doing... but I'll give you another chance. Take your best guess! And I'll give you a BIG hint: Think Professor McGonagall.
Hermione tapped idly on the sides of her chair as she waited for her boss' decision. He stared at her uncomfortably before speaking, his small rectangular spectacles resting precariously on the very tip of his nose. Sighing, he picked up the papers in front of him again and glanced through it for what seemed like the thousandth time.
"You do know that at least two years of working at the department is required in order to move up to the more, well, dangerous artefacts, am I correct Miss Granger?"
Hermione mentally rolled her eyes. They'd only gone over this six times in the past hour, one would have to hope that she understood by now.
"Of course," she said, reaching in her bag and pulling out a thick, neatly labelled file. "But I thought the circumstances may have changed, as there is currently no one even attempting to examine these objects. For all we know, they could save lives in the next war, and you have me in Prophecies, which I'm quite sure I never signed up for in the first place..."
Mr. Perlmutter's nostrils flared. "And where's your evidence to support that? Save lives in the war, rubbish! You're asking to work with death! You aren't doing this to save lives, you're doing this to satisfy your own curiosity. This is magic much too advanced for your age-- I doubt you'd even know what you were studying."
Perhaps it was because what he'd first said held a grain of truth, or maybe it was because she was doing the unfathomable and starting to lose an argument, but either way it was becoming harder and harder to control her temper. "Quite on the contrary, Mr. Perlmutter," she said as calmly as she could, handing him the plump folder. "Here's my research. The first six pages are the history of the veil, it's possible origins, and my theory of why it was made. Pages seven through twelve are the records of those who have studied the veil in the past, and their discoveries, including Mrs. Churchall's as well as a lead I think she found before she died. Thirteen through fifteen is why I think it's beneficial to continue the research, and fifteen through twenty is the summary of the report." Smiling slightly, she leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers in an almost Dumbledore-like fashion.
Mr. Perlmutter gaped, and then slowly relaxed his expression and shook his head in amazement.
"How did you get this information? At least half of it is off-limits to just about everyone..."
"Like I said, I did my research."
"Well...I just..." he sighed again. "Miss Granger, if you weren't the smartest witch of your age I wouldn't even consider it, but I can hardly say no after this. Just use your best judgement, and I would appreciate it if you didn't spread this around."
"Yes, I understand," Hermione said, trying not to laugh out loud. She jumped up to leave, but couldn't stop herself from uttering one last remark.
"Oh, and Mr. Perlmutter?"
"Yes?" he asked, glancing up as he picked up her file.
"It might take more than one sitting to read. It's front and back, you know()."
"Ronald? Ronald Weasley?" Ron heard people whisper as he stepped shakily towards the office. Normally he wouldn't have minded, but right now it wasn't helping his nerves all that much... Walking into the trademark orange building, he hid his hands behind his back to conceal their shaking.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Weasley." A man seated at a table in a small office said in a deep voice as he entered. He was very handsome, with sharp, light blue eyes and blonde hair standing out vividly against his weathered skin. His entire office was covered in orange emblazoned banners and posters of the team. Ron stared at them for a second before speaking.
"Thank you," Ron said, shaking his hand and taking a seat across the table from him.
"I'm Eric Kidman, the new captain. Here are a few forms you need to sign, and a test, just so I know that you understand all the finer points of the game. You can take it to one of the desks in the next room." He indicated a glass door, where a few others were already starting on their paperwork. Ron nodded mutely and pushed open the door, sitting by one of the desks in the back. He glanced at the first questions.
(1) Define the following fouls: Blagging, Blatching Blurting, Cobbing, Flacking, and Snitchnipping.
(2) Name and describe seven common Quidditch moves used by Keepers to stop the opposing team from scoring.
(3) Give three examples on how Quidditch has evolved since 1105.
Ron leaned down to scribble his answers. Hopefully, this would be one exam he'd pass with flying colours()...
Molly Weasley scrubbed her table with her sponge, even though it was as clean as it had ever been. She still wasn't used to having the house so clean and empty. Sighing softly as she sat down on one of her chairs (caked with a multitude of different colours from when she'd left her paints to close to five-year-olds Fred and George) she glanced at the picture in the middle of the table. All nine Weasleys were waving at the camera, even Percy, who had walked back in but was shooting his brothers and sister nervous looks every once in awhile. Molly frowned as Ron turned around and sent him a rude gesture, and then laughed to herself. She'd almost scolded a picture. Well, perhaps that was what happened to mothers when their children left the house... she glanced sharply at the clock, where one hand was pointing to "You're late". Although they could have the decency to drop in once in awhile...
Almost as if one of them had read her thoughts, Ginny appeared with a 'Pop!' in the kitchen.
"Sorry I'm late!" she said, walking over to her mother to give her a hug. "I got caught up in things, you know." Ginny tucked a strand of hair that was coming out of her bun behind her ear. "What do you need me to do?"
"It's fine, dear. Actually, I already made today's batch, I only have one more drop off, do you mind?" Molly handed two bakery-style boxes with pies in them to Ginny. After her last child had graduated, Molly had tried all sorts of things to try to occupy her mind, but the only thing she felt she was any good at was baking. With Arthur's help, she had started her own business, and Ginny came by once a week to help.
"No problem. What's the address?"
"They're for Harry. I had a bit of extra crust and I thought I'd make him one, he's seemed so lonely lately, the poor dear. Besides, I need you to tell him to come to dinner tomorrow," she carefully watched Ginny's reaction.
"Actually, Mum, I'd rather not."
Molly frowned at her. "Ginny, I don't know what's been going on between you two for the past year, but this has to stop. Take him the pies."
"Why don't you?"
Mrs. Weasley seemed to expand in anger. "Do you really want to get me started, young lady?" Behind them, Arthur stepped in the front door and out again. When Molly and Ginny got in a row, it wasn't a good thing to be in the same room.
"It's none of your business what I do with my life! I'm eighteen, if you haven't noticed," Ginny's voice rose a bit.
"Really? Because I would never have guessed it from the way you're acting now! I thought you were a bit more mature than to spend this long angry about some trivial dispute—"
"Trivial dispute? Yes, and its all my fault, isn't it? Because Harry's a right little angel!"
"Don't take that tone with me. Give him the pies, and I'll know if you just left them on his doorstep."
Ginny gave her mother one last glare before apparated out with an almost abnormally loud crack and onto Harry's doorstep. She almost sat them on his step and rang the bell, but Mum would know... Just give him the message and leave. You don't have to say anything else. With a deep breath, she knocked on the door three times. A small girl twisted the handle and opened it a crack, her blue eyes wide. Ginny stared and gaped a few minutes before speaking.
"Is Harry there?"
A/N II: Yes, this was my poor attempt at a cliffy. -Sigh- I tried...