A/N: Well…this chapter seemed to take longer than expected to post. I'm not sure the whole pattern of posting a chapter on my other fic, then one here, then one there and so on and so forth will work out too much for the readers of Hidden Sorrows…the updates might be a bit slow as my other fic is difficult to pick up.
So this is my new plan. After I post this chapter, I'll work ardently on Forgotten, and if by the weekend the next chapter is still not finished, I'll begin writing another chapter for this story, that way I don't get behind and you'll still have this chapter to look forward to…sound good?
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by J.K. Rowling and quotes by George Henry Lewis, only the plot is mine.
xXxXx
- It was as if her heart finally told her that she was wasting her time- Author Unknown
Hidden Sorrows: Chapter Three
A famous author once said that the only cure for grief is action. I took this quote to heart, memorizing it by repeating it to myself over and over until it was etched permanently into my mind, because action was exactly what I planned to take. I'd woken up this morning with an idea that, though at first it had seemed quite ludicrous, it now fit perfectly into my plan of getting over Ron.
I marched resolutely to the elevator shaft in the Ministry of Magic, shocking myself with the force I used to press the button that would take me to the floor where my boss' office resided. The doubts and thoughts of the consequences for the 'action' I was about to take were momentarily pushed aside as I ducked to avoid a dozen or so letters whizzing over my head.
Finally, the ding of the elevator shaft signaled my arrival to the floor. I was half satisfied that I'd made it this far, and half dreadful of the moment I would put my foot on the solid marbled floors that would undoubtedly lead me to his office. I went over my plan once more in my head as I begin trekking through the cluttered area, dodging assistants and other Ministry workers on the way.
I was going to ask him to promote me. I knew he would at first think I was being pompous, but then we would discuss my qualifications, and remember the numerous occasions when he had previously offered me a higher paying job. Though I understood that he would internally be questioning my sudden impulse to be promoted after months of turning such offers down, I also vaguely fathomed that my only reasons had been because of Ron.
Yes, Ron was in fact the reason I had been working at my pencil-pushing job at the Ministry for so long. It wasn't that he'd forced me to apply for such a low paying job, it was that he could already provide me with so much since he was a professional Keeper that there was simply no point in working a more strenuous job. We'd always had more than enough.
Things had changed, however, and I was constantly haunted with the worry that I wouldn't be able to pay my bills that month for the flat I now solely owned. I suppose this was the reason for my sudden urge to confront my boss, and I was hardly offended at his look of dismay when the topic of my appearance at his door came up.
My boss, Christopher Bowen, more commonly referred to as Chris, was young for his job. He, along with about six others, was in charge of all things edited at the Daily Prophet. Surprisingly, he'd only worked there for a time frame of three years, yet already he was considered to have excellent managing skills.
His appearance was one that literally every woman working for him could list off to you in a heartbeat. He had sandy blonde, shaggy hair and a lighter skin tone. His eyes were emerald green, and tended to always have a sparkle in them. He could be cheerful when he wanted to be, but also cold and determined when events called for such a demeanor.
Woman who described him would also hastily add that he was already married and had one child on the way, to the immense disappointment of many.
The events I pictured happened just as I'd imagined them with only a slight difference. I'd gone to his lavish office thinking that he would promote me as an extra editor for the Daily Prophet, mostly because of my previous job.
The manila folders I went through daily were filled with parchments littered with ideas, thoughts, and other items of inspirations scribbled on them. My job was to idly pick out what could be of good use for the paper, or what should be tossed.
Instead, he'd extended the opportunity that I could actually be a writer for the Daily Prophet. To say that I was astonished would be an understatement.
"Miss Granger," he began, taking a sip of the coffee I'd conjured earlier to help persuade him into promoting me. "Your qualifications, as you mentioned before, are quite remarkable. I'm simply floored that you've turned down my earlier repeated offers to advance you." Here he shook his head and my cheeks flushed somewhat.
I hastily began an explanation that, whereas before there had been no need for a better job, now I felt I should step up and attempt to increase my strengths by using my skills where they were best needed. He cut me off mid-sentence, however.
"There's no requirement to justify your actions to me, Miss Granger. I'm merely thrilled that you've decided to move up in this business. I only ask that you consider writing instead of editing, as I predict we could anticipate impressive articles from you."
Needless to say, I was flattered, but still a bit hesitant. An image of Lavender and Ron abruptly flashed into my mind, reminding me of why I had come to my boss in the first place though. I nodded and offered him a smile that brandished more confidence than I truly felt. He laughed heartily, clapped me on the back and took my arm, immediately leading back to the elevator shafts.
"I expect you haven't yet collected your things?" He asked me airily, smiling every now and then at his fellow colleagues that passed us. Thinking quickly, I realized that there wasn't much to gather from my small, wooden desk except a few minor items.
"Right, well then Miss Granger, you sort through your things and meet me on the 14th floor." Walking with a slight bounce in his step, he stepped away from the elevators and returned to his office. I nodded once more to myself and made my way to my own office…though it was no longer mine now, was it?
xXxXx
Feeling a new sense of satisfaction coursing through my veins, I confidently walked passed my former co-workers and arrived quickly at my desk. There were only a couple of items resting on the top of my organized desk, and those were things that could easily be left behind. It was what was in the desk that I was worried about.
I opened the first drawer to find old files that I'd never finished and had hidden to keep my boss from finding. Digging through the pile, I was startled to feel my hand brush over something cold. Grasping it as best I could, I pulled it up from beneath the numerous parchments and folders and promptly felt my stop drop.
It was a photo of Ron and me during the celebrations of the ending of the war. Being a magical picture, I vaguely noticed the strangers rejoicing in the back round, yet I couldn't seem to take my eyes off the two of us in the middle.
The image replayed two more times before I finally comprehended when exactly the photo had been shot.
During the battle, Ron and I had been separated, the both of us fighting separate Death Eaters, in a final desperate attempt to keep them from stopping Harry as he once and for all killed Lord Voldemort. He'd been injured in the struggle, and I'd panicked when I couldn't find him afterwards.
Finally, after heatedly pushing and shoving my way through the cemetery we'd fought at, I saw him, his shock of red hair instantly giving away his position. He was sitting on top of a broken grave stone being ministered to by a Medi-Witch.
His wounds consisted of a broken arm, a severely bruised ribcage, and other minor scratches. Despite this, when he saw me, he leapt to his feet and ran for me.
All too eager to embrace him, I also ran forth. We met and he hurriedly enveloped me in a relieved hug, and then picked me up and passionately kissed me. I'd giggled against his lips but rapidly kissed him right back. This is when the photo had been taken.
I'm still not sure who took the picture, but nonetheless, it'd been owled to me a week later and I'd framed it, determined to keep it at my desk to remind me that I had someone worth working hard for.
Remembering all that disheartened me greatly, and I had to sit and take several deep breaths to keep from openly crying. At that point I wanted nothing more than to hate Ron as much as I hated myself. Thoughts blurred through my mind. If anyone asked, I would respond, 'Nothing, nothing is wrong.'
'I'm strong,' I told myself. 'Don't let this break me.'
xXxXx
I arrived on the 14th floor filled with excitement and anxiety. Tucking a strand of curly brown hair behind my ear, I waited for Chris. He came only a few moments later, apologized for being late, and swiftly began discussing my new job expectations, walking in front of me and talking over his shoulder.
I found it difficult to keep up while taking notes, and finally became frustrated with the situation and muttered a spell to make my quill record what he was saying.
"I've already spoken to your new boss, he's a friend of mine," he said with a bit of pride in his voice. I rolled my eyes. I'd never even met my new boss yet, and I at once decided that he must be of some importance for Chris to be boasting about a supposed friendship.
"I have to tell you this honestly though, Miss Granger. He seemed slightly uncertain about hiring you. I bragged on and on about you, but he didn't hear any of it. Finally, after taking a look at your recommendations you gathered for me, he agreed and told me to bring you to his office." He looked back at me to check for a reaction, but I didn't know how one was expected to respond to this sort of statement, so I simply smiled and shrugged.
He nodded in a satisfied way, and I was glad I hadn't blushed. "Right, here we are."
We stopped outside a polished door with a shinning, golden plaque in the middle. It read, Draco Malfoy, Chief Editor of Staff. My jaw dropped, but I hardly had time to think of a way to escape as Chris knocked on the door and left me to stand there alone as it opened. I heard a familiar voice drawl,
"Long time no see, Granger." Malfoy smirked at my expression, and I hurriedly snapped my mouth closed and stepped into his opulent office. The floor was a deep mahogany wood, while the walls were white marble.
There were few pictures adorning the walls, and the ones that were had simple items painted on them, giving the room a more elegant and refined atmosphere.
The furniture was all white leather, excluding the desk which seemed slightly peculiar, as it was twice the size of any normal desk, but exquisitely organized, even more so than my old one. There were floor to ceiling windows, but they were covered in transparent white curtains.
Malfoy cleared his throat, and I jerked away from my observations of the room and quickly went to take a seat in the chair in front of his desk. There was an awkward silence in which I felt immensely uncomfortable as my new boss scrutinized me. While he studied me, I, in turn, contemplated him.
His hair was still the same icy blonde, neatly trimmed, yet it was longer and hung in his silver eyes, no longer slicked back with gel as he had preferred it to be in their Hogwarts days. He had a demanding presence, one that exuded power and authority to all who looked upon the former Slytherin.
All who looked upon him, however, would have to literally look up to him, since he had grown from being a scrawny boy, to a man that was nearly two heads taller than Ron, and that was saying something! I could even discern from underneath his costly suit that more than just a bit of muscle was there.
"I see time has done you no wonders since I last saw you," He began with a sneer. I narrowed my eyes but said nothing. His face changed to a thoughtful expression. "You've learned to hold your tongue, good."
"Alright, let's get started, shall we? You're new office will be on this floor, directly down the hall from here," He said, conjuring a piece of parchment and quickly writing down a few notes. "I'm placing you in the romance department with Patil, Parkinson, and Weasley."
I tried to object, exclaiming that love wasn't exactly my forte, and the article might not sound right if I wrote it. He paused in his writing and raised a single eyebrow before responding.
"Granger, I don't think you understand that you haven't gotten the job just yet. This week will be a sort of test of your abilities to write under pressure on topics you don't know much about." I gritted my teeth as he continued.
"If you don't think you're personality will come out in this theme of writing, then all I can say is, welcome to a world where being yourself if never going to be good enough." He went back to making a few more notes, and I was silent, shocked by the cruelty in his statement. He stood and I followed his lead and walked behind him as he made his way to my new office.
We arrived and I felt a small amount of relief as I saw the back of Ginny's auburn head as she leant over her desk to finish writing what I could only assume was an article for that week. Looking around, I saw that the room was spacious enough for at least ten people to work comfortably in.
Malfoy noticed my stare and commented, "It was Padma and Ginevra who convinced me to charm the room to be so big. Said they couldn't possible work in such small quarters, since before all they had were cubicles. Ruddy nuisances, the both of them."
I was astonish to decipher a tone of affection from the otherwise stone-cold Malfoy, and quickly shook my head, thinking I had imagined it. Ginny turned at the sound of her name, her face lighting up as her eyes landed on me.
"Hermione!" She shrieked and ran towards me as Malfoy rolled his eyes and smirked. "You work here now? Merlin, why didn't you tell me earlier? That was a right lovely breakfast you made for Harry and me," She would've gone on further had Malfoy not interrupted her.
"Ginevra, this week is serving as a testing basis only. I need you, Pansy and Padma," He said, gesturing the other girls over. "To show Granger, here, how everything works." He then turned to me. "You're first piece is due Friday, that's four days from now. Can I count on you?"
I couldn't believe how fast all this was happening. Hardly ten minutes before, I had been a mere file checker. Now, I was a writer for the Romance Section in the Daily Prophet, working with Ginny Weasley, Padma Patil and Pansy Parkinson, and Draco Malfoy was my new boss. It was a lot to take in, but nonetheless, I offered him a weak smile and shook his extended hand.
He had a firm handshake, with calluses from hard labor. I would have to check with Ginny for more about him, because I was almost positive that I'd never seem him during the final battle. Malfoy pulled Padma aside as Ginny went back to her writing. Pansy approached me with a crooked smile, her eyes glinting mischievously.
"Congratulations on the promotion." She started cheerfully, standing in front of me and crossing her arms. I gave a small grin in response and asked her politely how she liked it.
"It's tough work, to be perfectly honest. Even if you have a world of confidence in one of your pieces, all it takes is one read over from the editors and just like that," she flicked her wand and a glass of water flew to her hand. "It's considered rubbish and tossed aside."
Malfoy left the room then and Padma, having heard the last sentence, joined the two girls as well.
"Yes, indeed." She said with a sly tone. "I'd like to introduce you to a job full of insecurity and paralyzing self-doubt."
"Or at least it will be for you this week," Pansy said with a smirk. She and Padma walked away laughing, as I was left to marvel at the newfound trouble I'd just created. I sighed almost despairingly, before conjuring the things I'd gathered from my old desk.
I jumped slightly as a new wooden table appeared in the far left corner, adjacent to Ginny's and diagonal from Pansy and Padma's. Determined to start on a positive note, I carried my things with me to the empty desk in the corner and began to arrange them around till they looked suitable enough.
The last item I placed was the photo of Ron and me. Though I was working at this job to help get over him, I just couldn't seem to let go of a picture that had such sentimental value to me. I glanced forlornly at the contentment and glowing delight on both of our faces before we went in for the kiss.
I caught myself focusing more on Ron than myself, wondering if I would ever get another chance, another day, just to be held securely in his strong, comforting arms. There had always been a strange sense of…safety when Ron held me close to him like he had done in the photo. I felt a tear slip out of the corner of my eye.
Hearing the light steps of Ginny as she walked over to my desk to begin explaining the daily routine of what went on in the 'Lover's Corner,' as Malfoy had coyly named their room, I hastily wiped at my face and muttered a spell to cover any smeared mascara, and shoved the frame into the last drawer of my desk.
I didn't manage it fast enough, though Ginny pretended not to notice, the only proof of her observations being that she had genuine concern glinting in her eyes.
xXxXx
"You told her you were seeing someone from the Ministry?" Harry asked aghast. Feeling the need to get a few of my numerous problems off my chest, I'd wanted to tell Harry and Ginny about the conversation I'd had with Lavender the previous day.
After hearing from his wife that I was working with her, Harry had flooed to my flat and invited me over for dinner. The three of us were enjoying a glass of wine over the meal Ginny had cooked when the topic of Ron came up again.
They'd been reluctant to discuss this topic, still afraid that I'd become upset. Hastily, I mentioned that I was trying to get over him, and then apologized swiftly to Ginny. She'd shaken her head and muttered a foul word about her brother and his new girlfriend. That was how Lavender came up.
Somehow, I eventually got them to understand that at the moment, I'd been distressed and said the first thing that came to my mind. It was a comfortable silence as we all pondered what could be done with the situation.
"I know," Ginny exclaimed excitedly. Harry picked up his wine glass to take a sip as Ginny further explained. "What about Draco?" I laughed loudly as Harry began to choke, but also because I thought Ginny was joking.
Was she serious? I asked her just that. She nodded earnestly.
"He's really not all that bad of a bloke, Mione. I really got to know him when I started writing for him about five months ago, but you'll see once you get to know him."
I cleared my throat uneasily and took a small bite of the bread lying beside me. Harry chuckled.
"Honestly, Hermione. Give the lad a chance. He's changed," Harry said unfeigned, though he stopped at my disbelieving look. "Alright, so he hasn't changed completely, no Malfoy can, but you'll feel better about him once you know where he was in the war-"
Ginny cut him off here, nudging him in the ribs muttering, "Another time, love." I gave them a sour smile but continued eating.
"Well, maybe not Draco, then," She said, unwilling to let the subject drop. I shook my head fervently and picked up the bottle of wine and refilled Harry's glass. He smiled gratefully as he picked it up to sip.
"What about one of his friends? I hear Blaise Zambini's single," she said with a wink, just as Harry promptly spewed out his wine, drops of it landing not only on the pristine, white table cloth, but also on me.
Ginny laughed until she had tears in her eyes, dabbing at Harry's chin with a napkin, as he blushed and apologized to me. I watched with fondness as they looked lovingly into each other's eyes.
I think love holds a handful of promises; some empty others full to the brim. It would only seem natural that love is also different for each person. Ultimately, you hold the choice. I chose to love Ron, he chose to love Lavender.
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A/N: Sorry for the long wait! If you want an explanation, read the A/N on top of the page. Thanks to all the wonderful and fabulous reviewers, especially kimi, who really got me thinking about how I'd characterized Hermione.
kimi: I can't thank you enough for you're comment. It really allowed me to go over why Hermione had that job, and reminded me that I hadn't yet explained the reasons. She is still organized, but she's mellowed out since her first year, and even more so during the war…or at least, that's what I'm going for in this fic. Also, I didn't see the need in having Hermione charm her flat to be larger because she's not one to overindulge, and I think she would be satisfied with what she had, as long as Ron was comfortable. I hope this helps clear up some things for you, and don't worry, I wasn't at all offended, and I hope you aren't either. I welcomed the constructive criticism, thanks for brining it up!
kArLiTaLuNa: Yes, poor Hermione…things seem to be getting a little better though, or maybe just a bit more comical, which is sort of unfortunate for her. I guess that saying is true as well, "You don't know what you've got it until you lose it."
Wilty: I'm sorry it almost made you cry…but that's a good thing right? Your sister is one of my favorite reviewers, and you're related so you are too! haha
Sugarquill824: I don't think this chapter was quite as angsty as the last, so I hope you enjoyed it!
Jade Summers: As always, your review got me laughing. For the safety of your feet, I hope the mice are all gone! Writers block is gone…for now haha, lets hope it stays that way.
Paulalou: Thanks for taking the exception and reviewing on my second chapter…hopefully you'll review the fourth one anyway, whenever that one comes along.
Special thanks to: -jaydedangel73-, -Weasel Princess-, -Pink Luvin Goddess-, and -Sleepyhead22-
Don't forget, when you're done reading to review. It doesn't have to be long, spelled correctly, or anything special. Just a word or two on what you thought would be great.