"This place is incredible," Hermione looked around the beautiful modern laboratory set up on one of the underground floors of the Pensée building.
After her initial meeting with Pansy and Kyra, she understood better the concept they both had in mind and where this could meet with some of the work she has been planning and drafting in her own free time. This new skincare line could have an incredible impact in both the worlds she lived in, and after a long time dealing with the political minefield at the Ministry finally felt truly excited about the prospect of being a part of something so socially impactful.
Kyra offered to meet for her a coffee at eight so she could have a companion for her first day, and was currently enjoying an induction to the facilities. "Thanks, Pans and I designed it ourselves, a mixture of magical and muggle fittings. I'll introduce you to the two assistants we will have on this project later on, they are both currently on loan to the lab next door where we're brewing our regular line. This is the experimentation suite," she typed in a code into the small keypad by the door and with a click the door opened to let them in.
Hermione had to give it to Parkinson, the place was state of the art. The laboratories had modern facilities when it came to heat moderation under cauldrons, gradient and well-responding light adjustment system for when needing to work with more photo-sensitive ingredients, and Kyra appeared to rule her domain with a firm and tidy hand. "What is the range of ingredients you have access to?" She asked, wondering whether they stocked any of the more precious, expensive and oftentimes dangerous ingredients.
Seeing her line of inquiry, Kyra grinned. "I'm afraid you will be disappointed, as we only usually deal with common ingredients, however I could be persuaded to deviate during the experimental phase."
Hermione chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Of course we'll try to keep the ingredients accessible but it's something good to do some testing to make sure other products don't interact with the key magical ingredients in our products," she pointed out.
"I like the sound of that, our products," Kyra teased and led her back to the other side of the lab. "These are the changing rooms for our lab. You don't mind sharing, do you?"
Hermione shook her head. "Not at all, perfectly used to it." Merlin knew that was the truth after being cramped into a unisex changing room with half her department for months…
"Excellent, I'll set you up with a locker today. We have standard issue lab coats and aprons, happy for you to pick whatever you prefer to wear over your regular brewing clothes. Do you have two wardrobes as well, or is it just me?" Kyra asked curiously.
Hermione snorted. "If by that you mean do I have a laundry basket specifically for brewing clothing and a set of drawers with things that have at least one hole in them, then yes," she admitted. The life of a potions mistress meant a lot of Primark shopping…
"See, you get it! I tried to explain that to Nev and he finds it hilarious. Then again half of his trousers have permanent mud patches in them so her's hardly the one to talk," she pointed out.
"I haven't seen Neville for a while, it would be nice to meet up again," Hermione admitted.
"Of course! We'll have to arrange a dinner at ours, it's a date," Kyra beamed and took her back towards the stock room as the tour continued.
Hermione unlocked the door to her second floor victorian flat in Hoxton and kicked off her towards the shoe rack. There was a bump somewhere near the kitchen before a very excited German shepherd came bounding in and greeted her with a happy bark.
"Hello, how is my handsome boy?" she smiled and leaned down to kiss his snout and let him run a couple of circles around her. "Did Cami take you out for your walk like I asked her to? Yes? Good, let's get us some dinner," she offered the magical word and chuckled as he ran ahead to sit beside his bowl like the good boy that he was.
Crookshanks passed away shortly after the war and she was too busy with her career for many years to replace him as a familiar. Ever since the incident though, cats didn't react to her magical aura well at all, to the point when she had the whole cat section hissing at her the last time she entered Magical Menagerie. She was still trying to research why that was but as it wasn't exactly a documented field, so results were slow to come by. The time came for her to get a new familiar though, so Hermione thought that a dog might be a good change if they could tolerate her, and it seemed to have been a good choice.
Byron was a rescue, the only puppy to survive from a large litter that was abandoned by a muggle in their neighbourhood. When she picked him up a year ago, he was a healthy growing pup who waddled over to her without reservation and promptly peed on her shoe in excitement. She took it as a sign and adopted him on the spot. He kept her on her toes and their physically active nature suited each other well.
After sorting Byron out, she rooted around her fridge and pulled out a few bits to make a quick ramen that would help her unwind after the long day. She was still excited to have landed this job. Parkinson paid very well and working with Kyra was going to be fun.
After the war it took a while for them all to recuperate. After so many years joined close at the hip, for the first time Hermione, Ron and Harry decided to go their separate ways. Ron enjoyed the fame and went to become the Keeper for Chudley Cannons. As living in Britain was proving too difficult for the media-hounded Boy-Who-Lived, he decided to relocate to Romania and work with Charlie for a while before exploring the world and travelling. Hermione missed him but she decided to do what was best for her. Her parents passed away just before the final battle, in a car crash of all things, and she had an estate to deal with while the ministry continued to badger her to join them. She took her time to recover, finish her studies, deal with her nightmares and finally decided to apply herself where she knew change was needed most - welfare of magical creatures.
Hermione quickly became the rising star of the Ministry, the ruthless policy maker and a politician when she needed to be. But she still worked in the field of potions as well on a personal thesis and oftentimes visited sites that needed development and support from the Ministry to really get an idea for the full scope of need. It was exhausting and her personal life was minimal in those days but she was happy to be making so much positive change in their world. Surprisingly it was Minerva who remained a good friend to her after she left Hogwarts, always ready with a kind word when she was facing criticism from the relentless opposition at the Ministry. After losing her mum, the wise witch became the closest thing to a parental figure she had and they still kept in contact two decades after the last time she set foot in the halls of Hogwarts as a students.
It was through her visits to Hogwarts that she kept in touch with Neville as well. An established Herbologist, he was hounded by requests from the Ministry to come work for them but he chose a quieter life in the Sottish highlands, supplying plants for the school and various departments at Mungo's where his parents still resided. They reconnected quickly after the war and became good friends, exchanging letters often even when her schedule was punishing.
She quickly ate her ramen and settled Byron for the evening before heading for the shower to wash her day off. The bright light in her bathroom was uncompromising as ever as she undressed and paused to look at her scarred face and the two scratches across her left breast. Most days she didn't notice them, they were a part of her just as much as her nose, fingers and other puckered scars were, but days like today when she was relentlessly stared at were occasionally tough.
It all happened so quickly. They were visiting the Welsh reserve at Snowdonia that reported killings of some of the creatures in their care as well as some of their organs missing. As valuable commodity on the black market, this instantly raised alarm bells so they decided to do an inspection and find out what the issue was. As she walked across the mountain side with the director of the reserve to discuss the situation and have a look at the reserve from a birds-eye view, they stumbled upon a cave that housed a bird unlike she had seen before. As it turned out, it wasn't a bird at all, but rather one of the rarest magical creatures in their world - a harpy. Considered near extinct, no harpy has been sighted for decades but the creature that attacked them was most certainly not a veela despite some resemblance. Her feminine face was beautiful but twisted with fury as her large wings beat powerfully, her long legs and arms were covered in feathers and fingers carried talons that shone with strength and sharpness. They had no time to protect themselves as the harpy attacked faster than lightening, forcing the director over the side of the cliff to certain death and Hermione against the rocky wall in agony from the cuts to her body.
It was over as quickly as it began and she was found later by her team who went to search for them on their brooms. There was nothing to treat other than the cuts themselves, but they struggled to heal and oftentimes burned ferociously during the nights when she recovered. After her treatment in Mungo's, she provided her testimony of the attack to Kingsley himself, who embargoed the information to avoid it getting into the press and to the possible poachers who would salivate at the potential pay check from such rarity. There was however no avoiding the visible marks on her becoming a topic of conversation and reason for mistrust from her colleagues and opponents. Everyone assumed they were caused by a werewolf or some other infectious beast and opposition to her work continued to only rise.
She was determined to carry on her work despite this but then she started to notice the small changes; slowly at first but couldn't really tell whether they came immediately after the attack or a few weeks later. She became restless, much more nocturnal and didn't need more than two or three hours of sleep, suddenly finding herself with a lot of time on her hands during the night. And yet she didn't feel like she needed more. Her sense became much sharper, able to easily find her way around in the dark with clear sight and one day she found herself gagging at the stench of a bookshop she walked into before realising she could smell the rotting wood of one of the shelves by the back wall all the way from the entrance. These were the first signs that something was not right but she guessed they could just be a short-term effect of the attack, something in her magic unsettled by the incident that would remedy itself in a few days. How wrong she was.
Hermione pulled her unruly locks up into a quick bun and out of the way, turning around to look at the large tattoo on her back.
She could still remember the persistent itching. No matter how much she moisturised, her back itched relentlessly for three weeks after the attack. Until she woke up in the middle of the night in agony and wrapped up in a pair of dark brown wings that petrified her. She screamed in surprise and fell out of bed, noticing the bloodied bedsheets where her skin bled after splitting in her sleep to allow the wings to come out. She spent a full day walking around her flat and breaking things until they finally retracted, leaving her heaving in a panic attack. It took her a few days to recover and get a hang of summoning and retracting them. Surprisingly the only sign of their existence once retracted was a tattoo of the large wings that covered the length of her back, as she discovered with great surprise shortly after getting a hang of them and seeing the damage to her back in the mirror. They look like a regular muggle tattoo, no movement or magical ability, dormant under the skin until they are summoned again. Thankfully the split skin healed quickly and it no longer hurt to let the wings out.
At this point she knew there was no doubt that the harpy's scratches must have acted the same way as a werewolf bite or scratch would, by transferring some of the traits to the host. But there were no feathers anywhere else on her body, and the wings were the only real outward sign of anything different about her. It was the last straw however for her to resign from her position and rather head into self study.
Not long after she qualified as a potions Mistress and travelled for a few years, trying to expand her knowledge on mythical creatures and harpies in particular, but so little was know of them beyond Homer's tales and medieval references by Dante. So she focused on other projects such as developing a cure for lycanthropy, blood replacement potions that could be drank by vampires if they so chose instead of hunting humans, and healing medicine for creature-cause injuries like her own. Her thirst for knowledge and improvement of others lives remained insatiable and drove her decision to return to Britain three years ago and take the offer from Department of Mysteries to analyse potions found in one of the chambers that have not been touch for decades, some for centuries. Amongst the common soup and gone off putrid vials were the rare gems that were well-preserved but experimental. And if they could learn anything from them and from the notes of the previous department potion masters, she wanted to be a part of the discovery.
And yet, despite her previous loyalty to the Ministry and track record as a war heroine, she continued to face opposition simple because she was not only a muggleborn not now she wasn't even a full-blooded witch. Time and time again she was hounded by the questions and rumours around her 'lycanthropy' but she worked regularly during full moons and appeared no worse for wear either so the rumours only got worse and more sinister. For what does the populi fear more than a monster? An unknown monster. Because if she wasn't a werewolf, what was she? She was glad that contract was over and she was starting anew on a project that could make a true difference this time.
Hermione looked herself in the eye in the mirror for a long moment, taking a moment to affirm her resolve before stepping into the hot shower and washing away the strain and the stares of the day. Once she started and people got used to her appearance, the staring would lessen, she knew that, but first days were always a bit tricky. Byron found his way into the bathroom and got up on the edge of the bathtub with his front paws excited by the stream of water. She chuckled and allowed him to jump in, washing the pup down and letting him chase the stream with his mouth happily for a few minutes before quickly drying him off with a spell and washing the mess of his fur down.
"No more excitement for you, mister," she tutted and allowed Byron to curl up at the bottom of the bed as she reached for her half-read Chris Carter, ready for another night spent in the company of her favourite tea cup and murder mystery. Perhaps one day she will find someone to spend the long waking hours with…