Hermione,

I know the ministry has been hard on you. Keep at it, you're brilliant and they're sure to recognize it soon. I'm glad to hear your tutoring with McGonagall is going well! I'm not surprised she said you could take your NEWTS early if you wanted. I'm sure you could have passed them in June. Still, if I'm honest I'm glad Ginny's got someone checking on her every week.

Training's been difficult, I'm sure Ron will tell you more, but we've been told to keep the details to a minimum. I know it's for good reason, but I reckon you and Ginny will become rather frustrated with it before long.

We'll see you next week. Hang in there, Hermione, you've got this.

Harry

Hermione-

It's been a right fright out here, though not nearly as terrible as where we were this time last year. I've got to be careful about what I write, our intelligence says there are still some death eaters out there trying to intercept owls for information about the Ministry. You'd think the lot would give it a rest once the big guy was dead, but apparently not. Anyway, I reckon they'll give us the okay to talk about it soon enough.

I don't like hearing about how the office is treating you. Have you thought about talking to Kingsley about it? I'm sure he could get things sorted for you, seeing as you're one of the saviors of the free world and all. Just a thought. You're the best they've got and I'm sure they'll work you up the ranks soon enough. Unlucky, that bloke you had to blame for those kids getting killed, but I'm sure they didn't just pick some random guy off the street. They know what they're doing there, it's been working for years.

We've got a weekend visit coming next week, our only one til Christmas if our trainer's to be believed. We could celebrate your birthday then? Harry's getting a room in Hogsmeade to spend some time with Ginny (which I hate), but it'll mean we'll have some time alone together.

Missing you,

Ron

It was late September before Hermione received the letters from the boys, which were delivered to Ron's bedroom window by an owl she had never seen before in the early hours of a dreary Friday morning. The tawny bird's tapping was almost drowned out by the steady cadence of rain smacking against the glass. When Hermione finally realized it was there and opened the latch, the bird nearly flew straight into her hair in its attempts to relieve itself from the rain.

"Oh you poor thing," she said, once it was safely inside and perched on Ron's desk, its feathers dripping onto the wood. She pulled out her wand and dried the animal, then detached the two pieces of dampened parchment from its leg. She tore into the wax seals immediately, pacing back to the bed.

She read each one quickly, fishing some owl treats out of Ron's bedside table and feeding them to what she assumed was the Ministry owl, much to Pigwidegon's displeasure. He hooted angrily at her from his cage atop Ron's wardrobe, and she shushed him absent-mindedly.

She tried to stamp down her disappointment when she realized the letters' short length. It likely wasn't fair, she knew, to expect lengthy replies to her letters, though she had been writing them every week since their departure. Still, just because she was prioritizing them in her week didn't mean they would be afforded the same opportunities on the road. Harry was right, though. She was already quite annoyed with the MInistry's regulation of information.

The Ministry owl pecked her gently, and she checked the clock she kept atop Ron's nightstand; she was disappointed to find that she didn't have time to write responses before she had to get ready for her weekly lesson with Professor McGonogall. She shooed away the bird, opening the window so it could fly away, then closing it firmly against the wind. She gave a few treats to Pig in an attempt to soothe the little owl, stuck both pieces of parchment into her schoolbag and hurriedly dressed for her day, promising herself that she'd write back to them later.

"Headmistress?"

Hermione was standing in the middle of Professor McGonagall's new tower office, her wand outstretched, guiding her otter patronus lazily around the room. The shining animal flipped and dove around the office, skirting around the tall bookshelves that had taken over the curio cabinets that had previously occupied the room, and teasing the bird that sat atop one of them. The afternoon light filtering through the tall windows danced with the silver form, making the rays disperse prettily against the walls. The Headmistress was watching it intently.

"Very good, Ms. Granger, most impressive" she finally replied. "You may stop."

Hermione flicked her wand and the otter disappeared, leaving behind a warm, cheery feeling in the air. Professor McGonagall turned toward Hermione, a small smile on her face.

"Your question?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said. "I was just wondering... how much you knew about memory charms."

It was their third weekly meeting, but Hermione had yet to breach the subject of memory with Professor McGonagall. Part of her wondered why, knowing there was ample opportunity, but the other part of her knew she feared the eventual answer.

"Memory charms?" Professor McGonagall strode to her desk and took her seat behind it; Hermione bit her lip, then took the seat across from her, placing her wand on the worn wood. "What types of memory charms do you mean?"

"Memory modification charms. Specifically, their reversal on muggles."

Hermione kept her face neutral, her fingers absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on the sleeve of her jumper. Still, Professor McGonagall cocked an eyebrow behind her square spectacles. Hermione's heart jumped as if she was being admonished.

"I'm sure you know, Ms. Granger, that memory modification charms are not advisable for use except in the most dire of situations. They are nearly impossible to break."

"We all had to make sacrifices for the war, Headmistress," Hermione said quietly. "Though I'd prefer not to go into much more detail than that."

Professor McGonagall's face softened, and she pulled a piece of parchment out of one of her drawers, scribbling a note on it.

"Well, I don't believe I'm quite the best person to ask about the subject. I'll speak to Filius this week and see if he has any insight. It would be helpful if I knew the exact charms used?"

"The obliviate charm as well as the memory implantation spell," Hermione said. "Obliviate was used first, then the implantation charm."

McGonagall nodded, writing down some more notes. "I will see what I can find for you, Ms. Granger. Though, you should know that we refrain from tampering with the mind for good reason. From my limited knowledge, it's exceedingly difficult to reverse these types of spells. The only cases that immediately come to mind have been reversed through vile acts of torture."

Hermione swallowed, nodding. "I understand, Headmistress. I'm just hoping to find a silver lining, I suppose."

"I suppose we all are, Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall replied. "Now, I think our lesson is complete for the afternoon. I take it you'll be requesting permission to remain in the castle again to visit Ms. Weasley?"

"If at all possible, yes," Hermione said.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall smiled at her. "Take some of my floo powder and use the fireplace in the common room to return home, I'll have it opened for you. The password is Fluxweed."

"Thank you very much, Professor."

And with that, Hermione pushed her way out of the chair and headed down the stairs away from the tower.

It took Hermione a bit longer than it should have to reach the Gryffindor Tower. She had started taking the long way around the castle to arrive at the portrait of the Fat Lady after having crossed in front of the Room of Requirement after her first lessons. She had remembered Fred's eyes, dead and cold as he lay amongst the rubble in the corridor, and immediately ran to the nearest girl's toilet to be sick.

Anyway, she told herself, the extra exercise was nice after sitting at a desk all week.

When she finally reached the Fat Lady's corridor, she was greeted with a stern look from the portrait.

"And where are your robes?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Fluxweed," Hermione replied, ignoring the question entirely, which earned her an eye roll from the Fat Lady.

Her portrait swung open, though as Hermione stepped through she could hear her muttering about respect and passwords. She laughed a little at that.

The Gryffindor common room remained largely unchanged in the wake of the battle, a fact that brought Hermione great comfort each time she stepped into it. The fire was lit and the flames danced cheerily, helping illuminate the space and stave off the chill, much worse here than it was in Devon. Her favorite armchair was still kicking, angled perfectly towards the flames. Today it held a tiny first-year student, curled up with a blanket and a book.

"It's hard to believe we were ever that small, huh?"

"Ginny!"

Hermione found the other girl at her elbow, her attention so focused on the first year that she hadn't heard her approach.

"Hard to imagine we were that small and dealing with some bastardized version of the darkest wizard in history," Hermione amended, before bringing the other girl into her arms and squeezing her. "How was your week? Tell me everything. Make me regret not coming back again."

Ginny laughed, squeezing her back. "Stop that. You know you would be bored to tears in these classes."

Hermione sighed into the hug, then released, pulling Ginny to a sofa in a more secluded corner of the room. Not that they really needed the privacy, given the hour. Ginny had a free period, but most of the school was still in class. In fact, the first year was the only other person Hermione saw.

"Wait," she said, looking over to him again, her eyes narrowing. "Shouldn't he be in class right now?"

Ginny shook her head. "Will you ever stop being such a prefect?" she asked, laughing as Hermione turned to give her the same narrow-eyed expression. "First years are doing the spiky bush in Herbology, I believe. I saw him leaving the hospital wing as I was leaving History of Magic."

"Oh, well." Hermione visibly deflated at this, running a hand through her hair. "I guess you know what they say about old habits."

"No, I don't. You'd think you'd remember which ones are muggle sayings by now."

Hermione snorted. "Alright, alright. So, how's the week been?"

Ginny lounged back on the couch, grabbing one of the throw pillows and holding it on her lap. She closed her eyes a bit. "It's been a right bore, and I'm not nearly as competent with spellwork as you are. Remind me of why I need to take my NEWTs again?"

"Loads of reasons, but the main one is your mum might actually lose her mind if another one of her children skived off them."

"Right as always, Hermione. Right as always."

Hermione smiled at that and settled into the couch herself. "The team looking alright?"

Ginny had been nervous about tryouts the week before. Finding a decent seeker to replace Harry, she had said, would be nearly impossible, and while Hermione didn't quite care enough to follow the intricacies of it, she did know that finding raw talent like Harry's was unlikely.

"They're looking decent," Ginny replied. "We've got a fourth year, Bhatt, on as seeker. She's not nearly as fast as Harry, but she's got good eyes. A little broom training and she'll be alright. Better than I hoped for, at least."

"Well that's promising! When's the first game?"

"First week of November this year," Ginny said. She sat up suddenly, grinning. "Oh, I almost forgot! You know what the best part is?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Slughorn pulled me aside after class today and told me he talked to Gwenog Jones— oh stop making that face, I know you dislike her but she's a bloody brilliant player— and he said he's convinced her to come to the first game with her manager to watch me play! Me!"

Ginny was practically bouncing in her seat, and Hermione couldn't help but be filled with joy at her friend's excitement. She pulled Ginny into a hug, fast and tight, then let her go.

"Ginny, that's incredible! We'll have to make a big celebration, bring the whole family out to watch."

"You sound like mum," Ginny said, though she laughed when she did it. "Think George might make his way out for some Quidditch?"

Hermione shrugged. "Guess it can't hurt to ask."

"Yeah," Ginny said, sighing and laying back down. "How has he been?"

"The same, mostly." Hermione sighed. "He mentioned something early in the week about maybe wanting to do owl orders again for the shop, but he hasn't brought it up since. If I had to guess I'd say he's overwhelmed."

"Be hard not to be. Sometimes I wish he would just ask for some help if he needed it."

Hermione nodded, biting her lip. "Yes, I've been thinking the same. I had this crazy thought the other day, in fact, of quitting my job and helping him with the shop instead."

Ginny squinted at her, analyzing her face, then burst out laughing. "You've been spending too much time with George, Hermione. You actually had me for a second there."

Hermione bit her lip, worrying the skin between her teeth for a moment. "It was quite a serious thought at the time."

This sobered Ginny up fairly quickly.

"Merlin, do you hate your job that much?"

"I think I do," Hermione said quietly. "It's incredibly demoralizing realizing the lengths we go to keep who we are a secret. We put that innocent muggle man in jail this week, and I just... I came home so upset about it. Your mum found me at the kitchen table completely inconsolable, sobbing into a tea towel."

"What I still don't understand is why you didn't tell little Eddie or whatever his name is that you were not doing that under any circumstances."

Hermione groaned.

"Ginny," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He said that the only other option was modifying the memories of the parents so they forgot they had kids. And do you know what he said about that option? That the Ministry decided it was too cruel. He told me later that muggles get restless when that happens, that they have this hole in them but they don't know what's missing so they will sometimes just go mad! What was I supposed to say when that's possibly what I've subjected my parents to?"

Ginny sighed. "Fair enough, I guess. Still think you should've put that prat in his place."

Hermione picked at a loose thread at the sleeve of her jumper, her heart suddenly pounding. She was fairly effective at pushing the idea of "Monica and Wendell" out of her head most hours of the day, but whenever she was reminded of her parents possibly losing their minds in Australia thanks to her, her stomach would turn with the worst anxiety she'd ever experienced. She tapped her foot on the floor, searching for something to change the subject to.

"Did you get a letter from Harry?"

"Yes, I did," Ginny said, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly. "We've never had to write, you know? We've always been just friends, or together here, or he's been rounding up Horcruxes with you lot. I got butterflies when I realized who the letter was from. Butterflies! Can you believe that?"

Hermione frowned. She went back to picking her jumper sleeve uncomfortably.

"Hard to believe," she said. "I was mostly cross that their letters weren't longer."

"You mean my git brother didn't write you a novel? They've had three weeks!"

"That's what I said!" Hermione said, a bit too loudly. The first year jumped in his chair, looking over to where the girls were sitting. Hermione smiled in apology, and he went back to his reading, though his eyes were still wide when he turned away. "That's what I said," she tried again, quieter this time. "I got two lousy paragraphs and a note about how they're coming home this weekend."

"You must admit," Ginny said, laughing a bit. "Ron's never really had a way with words."

"No," Hermione said, huffing. "He has not. But I've received longer letters over Christmas Holiday from him."

"Ouch," Ginny replied.

Hermione sighed, her eyes fixated on the crimson rug beneath them, the sun from the tower window behind them creating a golden patch on it. Little particles of dust swirled together, suspended in the light.

"Hermione?" Ginny said finally, breaking the silence. "I acknowledge that I'm about to sound like my horribly unprepared brother right now, but I have Transfiguration in a bit and we have an essay due. I'm not sure about my introduction, could you take a look at it?"

Hermione smiled, genuinely grateful to be given the opportunity to tackle something she was good at for a change. She nodded.

"Well, alright, bring it here."

"You," Ginny said, standing quickly and planting a kiss on top of Hermione's head, "are the best future sister-in-law ever."

"Ugh," Hermione said. "What is it with you Weasleys! We've only been dating for six months."

Ginny shrugged. "Well, you're practically Harry's sister too, so. One way or another, you'll be my sister-in-law."

With that, she dashed off towards the girl's staircase, leaving Hermione shaking her head and laughing on the couch.

The week leading to the boys' visit seemed to go slower than usual. At work, Hermione was embroiled in a complicated situation involving four vampires and half of a small muggle village in Romania. The reports were conflicting, but from what she was able to surmise, the vampires had decided to make a statement about their poor treatment from the Ministry by turning half of the village into vampires. It was a mess, requiring the entire office to put their cases on hold until they could figure out a plausible solution for the incident, and while Hermione was glad to not be stuck working just with Edmund, it was requiring her to take longer and longer hours.

It had also birthed a new nightmare, one that Hermione would likely rank as one of the worst her mind had managed to conjure in the months following the ending of Voldemort's reign of terror. Since her briefing of the situation on Monday, she had woken each night in cold sweats, crying because her parents had been captured and turned into vampires against their will. It was twofold, the pain she felt, both the dread for her parents' unknown fate and the disappointment for her held prejudices making her sick.

She found it impossible to sleep each time it happened, so she would rouse herself and find menial tasks around the house to complete. Knitting a scarf. Organizing the tea canisters. Cleaning the fireplace by hand. Each one enough to keep her occupied, awake, for the few hours before she had to ready herself for work.

At the end of the day Thursday, Edmund looked at her and very bluntly told her she looked like death itself. It took everything in her to not burst into tears on the spot. Instead, she gave him a tight-lipped smile and her best impression of Professor McGonagall when she replied that she was just ensuring she was taking her job seriously, thank you very much.

"So you haven't forgotten about our meeting Saturday, then?" he replied, much to Hermione's disappointment. Prott had assigned the whole team extra hours over the weekend to finish off the vampire case.

"I don't know what I've done to give you the impression that I'm the type of person to forget things," she said, "but I'm not."

"Just checking, didn't want your boyfriend's arrival to stray your focus from the case."

"I am regretting telling you about him more and more each day, Edmund."

By the time Friday morning rolled around, Hermione was burnt-out, irritable, and in desperate need of a nap. She wished she hadn't had the terrible experience with the sleep draught, as she hadn't been able to bring herself to use it since, and she very nearly fell asleep mid-way through her floo journey to Hogwarts.

Blissfully, the lesson's hours went by quickly and without much fanfare. Professor McGonagall presented her, at the top of the first hour, with a number of Arithmancy problems and questions intending to check her competency on them.

"I've not maintained my Arithmancy studies since my youth, unfortunately," she said when presenting Hermione with the parchment, "but Professor Vector has agreed to meet with you if necessary to bring you up to NEWT level. Though, she did mention she believed you were likely already ready for the tests."

This had become a mantra from the Headmistress during their time together: Hermione was clearly capable of taking her NEWTs already. Hermione blushed a bit as she worked over the problems carefully.

"I've finished," she said finally, handing the parchment to Professor McGonogall, who eyed it curiously. Hermione looked at the clock hanging off to the side of the desk and found that two hours had already passed.

"Very good, I'll send this to Septima at the end of our time together. Now, Ms. Granger, wand out. We'll be practicing jinxes this afternoon."

She waved her own wand and a practice dummy appeared about a foot away from them, not unlike the ones they had used during their D.A. practices fifth year.

"I believe we'll start with the sea urchin jinx."

Three hours later, Hermione had successfully tortured the dummy into submission. She had turned it into a sea urchin, stretched it beyond comprehension, made its legs jelly, and then done it all again, this time non-verbally.

"Once again, Ms. Granger, I am most impressed. I know we only have five more sessions before your exams, but I believe you are more than ready," Professor McGonagall said, vanishing the dummy as she did. She took a seat at her desk, and Hermione followed suit.

"Thank you, Professor," she replied.

"One more thing before you go." Professor McGonagall opened one of her drawers and fished out a folded piece of parchment. "I've looked into the problem you presented me with during our last session, and I'm afraid to say that there was not much to find. As I suspected, memory alteration has nearly universally been done with the intention of permanence. Of course, there are theories..." She gestured at the parchment. "I spoke with Filius, discreetly, I assure you, and he wrote to a colleague. She recommended a text, Magicke of the Minde, to help understand the ways magic will interact with the brain. Of course, it mentions nothing about muggles."

Hermione sighed, nodding glumly. "That's the text I've been working through, Professor."

"I see." Professor McGonagall smiled at her kindly, though Hermione was mortified to detect a bit of pity in the gesture. "Well, I have the letter from her here, if you'd like it. She discusses the matter quite thoroughly. Maybe you'll be able to gain some wisdom from her musings."

Hermione nodded and took the parchment from the Headmistress.

"Thank you," she said. "For looking into it. Even if it was a bit disappointing."

"It was no trouble at all, Ms. Granger. Now, I think that should be enough for today. Will you be visiting Ms. Weasley again this week?"

"Er, no," Hermione replied, shoving the letter into her bookbag for further examination at a different time. "Ron will be home for the weekend, so I'll be headed back to the Burrow through your fireplace, if that's no trouble."

"No trouble at all, and tell Mr. Weasley I said hello."

Hermione smiled at her. "I will. Have a good week, Professor."

"You as well."

Hermione hitched her bookbag onto her shoulder and strode over to the fireplace. She grabbed a handful of floo powder off the mantle and threw it into the flames. She stepped into the emerald-green blaze and yelled "The Burrow" as clearly as she was able, and she was sent off spinning into nothingness.

A/N: Well, we're a bit late this week but I'm going to give myself a pass with Halloween. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

I wrote a George/Hermione scene for this one, but I had to cut it because it just didn't quite work out with the pacing of the chapter. I very seriously thought about polishing it into a one-shot so that I could still post it, but I wasn't sure if anyone would actually read it lol. Let me know if you'd be interested in something like that?

As always, please leave a review if you liked what you read! It makes my week and helps me get through some of my writers block. See you all next week with more xx