I'm baaAAaacck. With regularity? Maybe. I hope so. But I don't want to get your hopes up because I've written another chapter but I feel the writer's block coming.
But I'm trying to stave it off, so please give me feedback. It really helps to know I'm not just writing this into the ether and people are actually wanting to read it. I also realized that when I read fanfics, I tend to gravitate to the ones that have more reviews (I know, I'm a bad person), so if you think other people would enjoy this, review for them so they give it a shot!
And to the person who asked if they could translate this story into Chinese (Sherry, I believe), I didn't see your email (I think FF blocks people putting personal info into reviews) so I wasn't able to tell you privately, but sure! Feel free to translate the story. I'm happy to know that you think it's worth translating :)
Love,
Cherry
Dear Miss Granger,
Thank you for reaching out in regards to our collection of rare and geographically unique plants. Your enthusiasm and knowledge of Witch's Ganglion rivals our department's collective understanding of the exceptional root. Unfortunately, we have not found a way to house Witch's Ganglion in a way that suits the plant's needs at our campus, and as such, we have no information we can provide you.
I suggest reaching out to Hotaru Watanabe at Mahoutokoro. The school's location is in the prime growing spot for Witch's Ganglion, and Ms. Watanabe is quite knowledgeable about rare plants. Possibly as knowledgeable as you.
Best of luck,
Aleks Volkov
Head of Herbology
Koldovstoretz School of Magic
Hermione sighed and tossed aside the parchment, having hoped for a different response. Her first point of contact had been Hotaru Watanabe, the Rare Plants Specialist as Mahoutokoro School of Magic, but the response Hermione received had simply said that she couldn't share information with a non-academic, and to reach back out if Hermione ever became gainfully employed at any Wizarding School in Europe or Asia.
It had been two weeks since Hermione had purchased Uncommon Plants and How to Harvest Them and using that information plus what she'd learned through other books, research papers, diaries, and interviews, Hermione had a sound enough understanding of Witch's Ganglion that she was ready to begin research phase for making potions, but the problem was that anyone who knew what ingredients reacted poorly with the plant wouldn't tell her what they were. Hermione had no desire to potentially blow up her flat, and St. Mungo's wouldn't allow her the use of their potion-making rooms for a pet project, so the project had again come to a standstill. At least until she could find an external resource who had tested potion-making with the plant. Someone who would share their understanding with her even though she wasn't an academic.
There was a rustling from the fireplace, and Hermione stacked her papers together, placing them in an open book before shutting it.
"Afternoon." Ginny greeted as she stepped through the Floo, using Hermione's preferred method of entry (though Ginny preferred the dramatic flair Apparating had).
"Hello, Gin." Hermione greeted, organising the table in front of her.
"You're looking well." Ginny responded, scanning the room for anything out of place. She was pleased to see Hermione had kept the place cleaner since she last visited, and the only thing cluttered was the table, which was covered with books, parchment, and quills. Ginny would forgive this indiscretion. The table did belong to Hermione after all.
"You too." Hermione stood and the two hugged. "Have you gotten back into Quidditch?" Hermione asked, noticing Ginny was wearing a fitted shirt for the first time since she'd had Albus. It looked quite nice, and though Ginny had maintained a fit figure through both pregnancies, Hermione had noticed that having a second child had clearly worn on Ginny's self esteem.
"I have." Ginny beamed. "We've begun an unofficial Daily Prophet league." She explained, making herself comfortable on the sofa as Hermione poured them both tea from the kettle on the stove. "The sports department is obviously a shoe in for first place, but as the only ex-member of a professional Quidditch team, my department is expecting me to be quite good. Harry's been practising with me every weekend."
"That's great, Ginny." Hermione congratulated her friend, handing her a mug. "Are you playing Chaser?" Though Hermione only had an interest in the sport because her friends played, she was happy to continue the discussion if it put off what she knew Ginny had come for.
"Seeker, unfortunately." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Jones, Meyrick, and Driscoll took all the Chaser positions. They reasoned that if I was a professional, then I'd be a better Seeker than any of them ever could be. I think no one wanted to admit their eyesight isn't what it used to be." The two giggled a moment and Hermione patted Ginny on the knee.
"Take it as a compliment, I suppose. You're so good you can play any position."
"If only that's what it really meant." Ginny hummed, taking a long drink of tea before setting it on the coffee table. "Anyway, we both know why I'm here." She readjusted to face Hermione better and Hermione grimaced.
"Yes, we do." She watched Ginny rifle through her bag and produce a quill and slip of parchment. "And I think I'm going to disappoint you."
"Nothing new there, we go through this every year." Ginny winked, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Now, up you go. And take that jumper off, it's so lumpy."
Hermione stood and removed her jumper as instructed, standing before Ginny in just a vest and jeans. She tucked her left arm inward; a natural movement despite the fact that Ginny had seen the scar before. Ginny flicked her hand at her bag and a sewing tape lurched out, wrapping itself around Hermione's shoulders.
"Now, I know you don't care about fabric," Ginny spoke while writing down measurements from the sewing tape. It moved to Hermione's bust after taking her arm length. "And that you'd like sleeves, but what am I missing?"
"That I have no desire to attend at all?" Hermione muttered, knowing that wasn't an option.
Every year, on the anniversary of Voldemort's defeat, Hogwarts held a gala honoring the heroes who defeated the Dark Lord, raising funds for charities designed to support those who had lost property and family in the battles, and made some nice pocket change from donors to support the school's Defence Against the Dark Arts program. Hermione hated attending the function, which used her face as a pawn for publicity and donations, but she did it because it was important to remember what had happened; to prove to those in the shadows that another Voldemort wouldn't stand a chance.
So every year, Hermione stalled and stalled and stalled and didn't order custom robes in time for the event, and like every other year, Ginny came to Hermione's flat two weeks early with a sewing tape and parchment, taking notes for her personal tailor, who happily made robes for both women in record time.
"How about red? You look nice in red." Ginny brushed over Hermione's comment, refusing to partake in the discussion. They both knew Hermione would go, it was just a question of if she would put up a fuss and wear something from her existing wardrobe.
"Fine." Hermione agreed reluctantly, knowing that she did indeed look good in red. As a silly child, she'd been thrilled to hear Gryffindor announced when the sorting hat placed her, knowing that Hufflepuff's gold would wash her out, and both Ravenclaw and Slytherin were too cool in colour to compliment her brassy hair.
"And fitted. Very fitted?" Ginny continued.
"No, not very fitted. Something comfortable." Hermione argued. "I don't intend to look constricted when posing for photographs."
"Then I'll just say fitted." Ginny jotted down, secretly wanting Hermione to go all out. This would be the first public gathering where Hermione and Ron were present since their breakup, and to make matters worse, Ginny knew Ron was taking Lavender as his date. Hermione had to look ravishing, and Ginny intended to make sure she did, even if Hermione protested once she saw the finished robes.
"Is this really all necessary?" Hermione asked as the sewing tape measured her hips. "I'm sure I have plenty of robes to pick from."
"Is this really all necessary?" Ginny mimicked Hermione, pursing her lips as the sewing tape finished its duty and returned to her bag. "You know I'm doing all the work, yes? Taking your measurements, picking a design, bringing it to the tailor, and picking it up when it's ready. You just have to show up with a not so negative attitude."
"And if I can't do that?" Hermione posed, and Ginny was about to lash out again when she saw Hermione was smirking.
"Then you'll receive an empty garment bag and have to wear your knickers for all to see." Ginny retorted, tucking away her parchment and retrieving her mug from the coffee table. Hermione redressed in her jumper and joined Ginny, tucking her legs under herself.
"Tell me more about the Quidditch team." Hermione tucked her hand under her chin and watched Ginny's face light up as she detailed the formation of the league and all the moves she'd practised thus far. The two chatted for hours, mostly about Ginny, Harry, and the boys, but they discussed Hermione's life, too, much to Hermione's chagrin. She'd hoped to be further in her work by now, but she didn't tell Ginny that. Instead, she told her about the things she had learned, and what that meant for her project, and Ginny listened to her friend happily.
"So you're fluent in Russian now, then?" She asked, her tea gone cold. "At least plant Russian."
"Maybe." Hermione chuckled, well aware that she knew too much about Russian words dirt and roots, or грязь and корни, though she still didn't know how to pronounce either correctly. "Wait, how did you know that?" Hermione's brow furrowed as she realised she'd told Ginny about the book, but not that it had needed translating.
"Ah, yes." Ginny paled a bit, noticing Hermione's reaction. "Ron might've mentioned something about a Russian translator you purchased recently when you two ran into each other."
"Uh-huh." Hermione spoke in a monotone voice. "And was that what he said? When we 'two' ran into each other?"
"He might've mentioned a third person present." Ginny's voice raised in pitch, having been caught. She hadn't wanted to tell Hermione that she knew about her and Draco; after all, Hermione would tell her friends when she was ready, and given that she hadn't brought anything up meant that either it was nothing, or she didn't know what to make of it yet. Ginny guessed it was the latter and that the two had formed a friendship over the past few months, what with the potion treatments and books from Draco's library. They had probably spent more time together than Hermione had spent with anyone else as of late.
"Unbelievable." Hermione moaned, rubbing her eyes. "There's nothing to share, yet he tells everyone."
"Well, it didn't sound like nothing." Ginny gently said, figuring they might as well broach the subject since it had already come up. "I mean, a dinner date? That's got to mean something." Ginny watched as Hermione's disdain turned coy, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Oh it meant something all right. It meant I wanted Ron to feel inferior, and Malfoy just happened to be there. It's not as though it took much coaxing to get him to play along."
"No, I imagine not." Ginny snorted, imagining the scenario. Hermione didn't often try to make others jealous, but Ginny was glad she did. Ron was a bloody imbecile for thinking he could do better than Hermione and he deserved a little payback.
"And did Ronald tell you what he was doing at Flourish and Blott's?" Hermione asked. "Because he sold your mother's onion soup recipe to a company who made a cookbook of 'famous family recipes.'" Hermione did air quotes with her fingers, still disgusted by the fact that such a book even existed.
"Of course he did." Ginny sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Wait, does that mean he was purchasing the book?"
"Yep." Hermione confirmed. "Bought it as a birthday gift for Lavender."
"Isn't that lovely." Ginny made a gagging noise. "Not at all pretentious."
"I'll just be amazed if she likes it." Hermione said. "No, actually, I won't be." She changed her mind, knowing Lavender would love anything Ron gave her.
"Just further proof my brother is an absolute muppet." Ginny said, stretching her legs out and noticing the time on Hermione's clock on the mantle. "Is it really that late already? I should be off. Family dinner at the Burrow."
The two stood and Ginny pulled her bag over her shoulder. "You're welcome to join us. I know mum would love to have you."
"Maybe another time." Hermione postponed the invitation, hugging Ginny. "I've got a box of leftover Indian takeaway that needs to be eaten." She pointed at the refrigerator and Ginny looked at it wistfully.
"If only I could join you. Curry sounds better than stew right now."
"Then you should really get going, because it's not curry." Hermione laughed at her friend and ushered her to the fireplace. "We'll chat soon."
"Sounds lovely." Ginny agreed and waved before taking a handful of Floo powder and disappearing in a puff of green flames.
Alone again, Hermione returned to her table and sorted through her letters again, wondering when she'd finally have the answers she needed.
Hermione Flooed from her flat to the Headmaster's office at noon, garment bag folded over her arm. She hadn't dared look into the bag (which had arrived at her flat that morning), Ginny reassuring her she would like the dress, but she carried it with her with a grip tighter than she had anticipated. Nerves, she justified, for returning to Hogwarts, for doing it alone for the first time since the galas began...for seeing Lavender with Ron in person. She'd seen their photo on the cover of Witch Weekly as one of her colleagues read the magazine during their lunch break, but it was a paparazzi shot and she didn't take a closer look when the healer tossed it in the bin on their way out the door. A great part of Hermione didn't care that Ron had moved on; it was perfectly healthy to begin dating again after a breakup, and it's not like Lavender hadn't been of interest to Ron when they were younger. But there was also an admittedly large part of Hermione that didn't want to see the two together. While it had been Hermione's decision to end their engagement (and ultimately their relationship), she realised she wasn't fully prepared to see that Ron had moved on. She supposed she might never be fully prepared to see him move on, as selfish as it was. Ron was her first love and one of her best friends. And to lose him to Lavender? Hermione hoped it was a temporary fling, knowing how their excitable once schoolmate had a way of dragging Ron's attention from those that mattered to him. Another part of Hermione worried that she no longer made the list of those that mattered to Ron. While her friends had reassured her that any ill feeling Ron held toward Hermione was short term, Hermione knew that those people weren't entirely aware of what had truly transpired between the two when they were a couple, and that Ron's anger and resentment toward her weren't entirely unjustified; she'd made him feel less than whole as a man, and while what he had needed were things Hermione couldn't give, that wasn't his fault.
It was for the best, of course. Hermione wasn't prepared to give Ron what he wanted, and she was happier to just be his friend (if he would have her) rather than his wife.
"Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall spoke from her desk, standing to meet Hermione as she stepped out of the hearth. "So lovely to see you, dear."
"You too, Professor." Hermione greeted her old professor with a smile and a handshake. She liked that about McGonagall. Nothing was ever too touchy-feely. "How have you been this past year?"
"Very well, thank you. Time does fly by now that I'm getting older, of course." McGonagall smiled tiredly, pressing her hands down her dress. "It feels quite recent that I last saw you, though - as you so aptly point out - it has been a year."
"It does feel that way, doesn't it?" Hermione agreed, though the latter half of the past year had gone by quite quickly in a series of events.
With a rush of wind, the fireplace lit up and through the flames came Ginny, who also carried a bag, though she additionally had a suitcase. Ginny looked around the room and smiled at McGonagall and Hermione, waving briefly.
"Professor." Ginny greeted. "You all right?"
"I'm well, thank you, Mrs. Potter." McGonagall confirmed. "I see you've both come prepared, so I won't stall you much longer. The gala will begin at six, and as always, there will be several speeches, so in a few hours' time, some of those preparing the events might stop by and ask you some questions about your preferences."
"Will Harry not be making the speech?" Hermione asked, knowing that in the past, most of the talking had been done by the professors and Harry, though she'd been asked to say something at the fifth year anniversary. She'd kept it short, remarking on the strength of the wizarding community and her happiness to see the collaborative efforts put in to rebuild. She never particularly liked speaking on her own behalf, much preferring to keep her speeches saved for when she needed to do some advocating, so McGonagall's words were a less than pleasant surprise.
"Mr. Potter will be speaking, but the gala has grown greatly in size and attendance this year, so there have been some overall changes. You'll only see one of the committee members if your participation is necessary, dear. You may be asked to speak too, Mrs. Potter." McGonagall bobbed her head at Ginny.
"Absolutely chuffed." Ginny answered joylessly, much preferring to publish her written word rather than spoken, and indeed any words they spoke at the Gala would most definitely be published.
McGonagall smiled tightly at Ginny's informal disposition and clasped her hands in front of her. "Well, I'll let you both get ready now. Your chambers are the same as always. Do you need a guide?"
"No, no, we can find our way. Thank you, Professor." Hermione spoke before Ginny could, and pulled her friend out of the office, slowing their pace once they'd rounded the golden gargoyle and were safe from McGonagall's ears.
"Ginny, do you want to get on her bad side?" Hermione asked incredulously. "She's the bloody Headmaster!"
"And what will she do? Give me detention?" Ginny laughed, the two walking down the hall together. "I'm not her student anymore, thank Merlin." She said and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"She's not as terrible as you make her out to be. She's not terrible at all, even." Hermione corrected.
"To you, maybe not." Ginny snorted. "'Course, I came in a year after you lot, and if there was something McGonagall wasn't ready for, it was another Weasley making trouble and blimey, did I make trouble." Ginny shuddered, thinking about how she'd spent her first year and Hermione realised that maybe she had a point. Only Percy had been a fastidious, careful student, the rest of the Weasley children creating some form of chaos during each of their seven years at Hogwarts.
"Not of your own volition." Hermione noted, Riddle's diary forcing Ginny to wreak the havoc she did during her first year.
"Like Fred and George hadn't tried the possession excuse by the time I came around." Ginny countered, and Hermione recognised the behaviour, knowing that humour and deflection was Ginny's form of coping with the troubles she'd faced in her youth. As they all had their own forms of surviving, Hermione let the subject drop as they walked down several more halls, grateful that the students were given the day off from classes and that meant the halls were only sparsely populated, most of the children out on the grounds taking advantage of the good weather that was finally beginning to present itself. It still felt cold to Hermione, who had grown used to the comparatively warmer weather of London, but her trip to the Scottish Highlands would last no more than twelve hours, thirteen at most, and she could handle the drafty corridors of her once home. Several hallways further, Hermione and Ginny reached their temporary quarters, an old classroom, which had served as their space to get ready for the event since the third anniversary. Nearly immediately upon their entry, Ginny cast a warming charm over the room and the two set their belongings down on a table, taking in the space. They'd added makeshift dressing rooms this year, Hermione noted, and the sitting area by the windows looked cosier than usual, likely because several attendees had to come early, like Ginny and Hermione.
"I suppose it's time to start getting ready then, isn't it?" Ginny asked, and Hermione sighed, hardly ready to begin the process of perfecting her makeup and taming her hair. Ginny had happily offered to assist, and Hermione would most definitely take her up on it, but in the meantime, she wasn't thrilled to be subjected to the wandering fingers that belonged to Ginny when she got creative with makeup.
"You know, I think I'll go stop by Hagrid's." Hermione responded as Ginny flopped down into one of the oversized chairs, floating a cup of tea over to her from the table made up with food. "I'll be back soon?"
"All right." Ginny nodded, floating a plate of bourbon biscuits into her hands. "Don't be too late, I have to get both of us ready tonight."
"Very well." Hermione agreed. "I'll be back in an hour or two."
"You better be!" Ginny called after Hermione as she left, scurrying quickly away from the room she planned to avoid for as long as she could.
"Hello all! So lovely to see every-Hermione? Oh Hermione, how beautiful you look!"
Hermione and Ginny turned to see who had entered the room, though the giggly voice should have made it clear. Lavender had arrived.
