Tie your Heart at Night to Mine, Love
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Special thanks and love to teheminator and MammaWeasley27 for beta-work!
If there was one thing that peeved Hermione Granger the most it was not understanding things. That's what she did: she understood the minutia of complex concepts, spells, and potions; picked up on the undercurrents of context, connotation, and expressions; and, last but not least, prided herself on having learned—in detail—the history and guiding principles of both the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds.
In her years at Hogwarts, it was that knowledge that allowed her to assess situations and make informed choices, to ponder factors and devise the best course of action possible. Provided, that is, that the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio didn't charge—like stampeding Hippogriffs—in the opposite direction. A comparison somewhat detrimental to the highly discerning creatures…
Now, however, Hermione couldn't help but feel she was plunging head first into unknown waters and none of it was Harry or Ron's fault. Post-war times, as it happened, were intent on proving themselves far murkier and nastier than she could ever have expected.
In the days following her first lunch meeting with Shacklebolt, after the shock waned just enough for Hermione to examine his motives, she found it made absolutely no sense for him to offer her a Ministry position.
Like most absolute notions, of course, that was partially false.
Hermione was good—rather extraordinary, really, if every professor but Snape and Trelawney were to be believed. Quite famous now as well, however aggravating and uncomfortable the attention felt. Yet reasons such as these fell short. All Kingsley had to do, after all, was approach Harry in her stead. While Harry wasn't nearly as enthusiastic when it came to studying, they were equally talented, and, when it concerned the Golden Trio, he was the part larger than the whole, so to speak. Regardless of how much she had tried to disabuse him of the idea, Harry was nationally, perhaps even internationally, known as the Chosen One. Which begged the question: what did the wizard believe her capable of that Harry wasn't?
It was quite a small list. Not her Arithmancy knowledge, for certain. Or her ability to follow rules—which was, at this point, arguable at best. Only two possibilities came to mind: the first, the one Professor Snape's portrait had so… cleverly implied. Her so-called "poorly kept" secret.
Her stomach contracted.
No. What use would he have for it, even if he did know? Unless Kingsley expected her to spy for him, something she would never agree to do. No. No, he didn't know. Whereas the other possibility… Well, it had to be it, hadn't it? The only major difference, the one that mattered.
Harry would never… Harry could never… Nobody could betray their own parents in a more heinous, appalling manner.
She somehow succeeded. A sour taste rolled across her tongue, and the corner of her mouth twisted. It spoke volumes of who she was, did it not? After that, betraying the Order would be nothing for her in his eyes.
Hermione shook her head and forced herself to focus on the task at hand—finding proper clothes. Not a single or combined item in her wardrobe was suitable to help her pull the confidence she would need this time—no piece of clothing held such power. No kind of magic, either. Nevertheless, black would suit her well. She searched amongst her belongings for a dress—any dress—that would hide the scar on her arm whilst looking the least floral and lively.
And while lively, floral dresses had comprised a small part of her clothing in the past, now was a different matter. Everything she touched seemed to turn sickeningly flowery.
Hermione plowed through her hangers and drawers. Had her fears not taken somber streaks since the war, she would assume a Boggart had taken residence inside her wardrobe. However, no Boggart would dare to place a Spectrespecs shirt amongst her things. There were no such things as wrackspurts, invisible or not, and though her abhorrence of it could perhaps be interpreted as a fear of irrationality itself, there were cleverer ways for them to manifest it. A more Alice in Wonderland approach, for instance.
For her sanity's sake, a conversation with Ginny and especially Luna was in order. After failing to procure a more sober item and the clothes' refusal to being Transfigured, Hermione settled for a long-sleeved, boat neck dress in cream that descended all the way over her knees, and kitten heels in the same shade. The ensemble was much too frilly—as the lace bow she'd removed from its belt could attest—but it would have to do. Half a bottle of Sleekeazy and a search through her jewelry box later, the witch stood before her mirror.
Rays of sunlight that brushed against the bedroom's furniture and the fabric of her clothes turned into patterns when caught and reflected by the string of flower shaped crystals adorning the golden bracelet on her wrist. It was her single family heirloom. Something her mother had gifted her when she was first admitted into Hogwarts.
Something Hermione had been much too selfish to return as she stripped her parents of their memories. Their selves.
And perhaps there was a meaning to her choice in wearing it, perhaps she sought to remind herself of the last time she did something to protect the people she loved by violating their trust. To summon the pain and disgust of her actions in such a manner that she would, at the very least, feel reluctant to repeat them.
Deep down, she knew it wasn't the case.
Choosing that bracelet had to do with acceptance. Of what she had done. Of what she was about to do. Wasn't that what the Auror expected of her, to wear betrayal like a badge?
A Harry-like voice whispered in the back of her mind, seething revulsion dripping from its every word, "You are no better than Kingsley."
Perhaps she really wasn't.
In the hours Hermione had before lunchtime, she went through all the possibilities, scrutinized every loop Kingsley could exploit, every detail she could not afford to overlook. What-if's still popped into her mind, threatening to Splinch her as she tried to concentrate on the clear image of her Apparition point. The sharp tug of displacement followed by the scent of grass brought her focus: she was, as of now, out of time.
Untrimmed bushes surrounded her to the right and left, keeping her from prying eyes at the same time their leaves and branches caught on her hair and clothes. She cursed, fixing a small rip on her dress with her wand before smoothing down her hair and re-adjusting her bracelet one more time. She had done it so many times now she considered removing the accessory altogether, but her hands would simply fumble with something else.
Not that Hermione had grown nervous. It wasn't nerves, it was annoyance—that was a more accurate word. She was annoyed about the fact that the shrub—which wasn't magical and therefore shouldn't behave as Hogwarts' Whomping Willow— had assaulted her, that her heels kept sinking further into the soil, that the hair she had wasted a handful of Sleekeazy to fix was now ruined, and that she would probably starve during another lunch meeting in which lunch wasn't on the menu. She was annoyed—that was all there was to it. And if she felt distraught at all, well, that was completely due to her annoyance. After all, what could possibly go wrong?
Her shoes clicked against the pavement after she rid them of the dirt and in less than a minute Hermione found herself standing before the restaurant's entrance once more. They had agreed to meet later that day at The Chesil Rectory, the same Muggle one they had gone to the first time. Ignoring everything around her—the people and houses on the street, the bistro's architecture and the historical pieces it displayed—Hermione hurried inside.
When the waiter—the same older man who welcomed her the last time she was there—spotted Hermione, his lips moved, forming words to which she didn't pay attention and merely replied with a mumbled generic greeting. Her prepared speech played on a constant loop in her mind, the words now almost engraved in her memory. The man led her across that room and into another, semi-open one, to the table where Kingsley was waiting for her.
Once again, the Auror had dressed in Muggle tailored clothes, his jacket suit matched the exact shade of Bordeaux of the wine he drank, and not a wrinkle was visible in his suit, on what was visible of his plaid dress shirt, or on the dark brown tie knotted over it, even as he sat in a relaxed manner.
"Ah, Hermione! It's good to see you again."
Her lips curled down of their own accord. "Likewise."
Shacklebolt stood as she neared the table. He motioned for her to take the seat across from him.
As she did, she caught a glimpse of his wand. Hermione's blood froze. The tingle of magic that ran down her spine had Hermione reaching for her bag.
She knocked an empty water glass to the floor as she drew hers, shards flying in her foot's direction before she found them being repelled by Kingsley's magic. His wand was gone in an instant.
"I only cast a Silencio charm. To give us privacy," Kingsley said, one hand reached out. "Put away your wand, Hermione. I have no plans to curse you in the middle of a Muggle crowd."
Hermione swallowed and looked around. The waiter that welcomed her was walking towards them, carrying a broom and a dustpan. Before the waiter reached them, Hermione shoved it back into her bag and whispered, "Of course not. That would be absurd."
"Are you hurt, miss?"
"No. I'm terribly sorry, it was careless of me."
"There's no need to worry."
When the waiter left, Hermione cleared her throat, reclaiming her seat, "Let's go on with it, shall we?"
Kingsley smiled, "Of course."
Hermione raised her chin. "These are my terms: under no circumstances will you speak in Harry's name or wield my connection with him. The same condition applies to Ron, Neville, Luna, and Ginny. You will not capitalize on my friendships. You won't use Dobby, and you most certainly won't use Fred. I won't allow you or anyone else to feed off their deaths for political gains. Everything has limits. Politics must have limits."
The Auror lowered himself to his chair as she jabbered on, "Very well."
Her jaw hardened. "I am not finished."
"Do continue, then."
"I have once told Minister Scrimgeour I had no intention of pursuing a career in Magical Law. I am of a different opinion now."
"I see."
"I will be given clearance to word a law, and to restructure one of the Ministry's Departments." The wizard tensed. If anything, his defensiveness stoked her resolve, "As Deputy Head—"
Shacklebolt scoffed. Hermione found the sound rather unpleasant.
"You are far too young to be assigned as Head of a Department, Hermione."
"This law is one of my primary conditions."
"You seem to have a great deal of those."
"I will have clearance to word this law. Otherwise, you have been wasting both our times."
"Deputy Assistant. With guidance, of course."
"Of my choosing?"
"Given that it's someone qualified and experienced. It will still be voted, this law of yours."
"Outstanding."
"Are those all?"
"No. Remus... Remus can't know. You won't tell him about it."
"And why is that?"
"I don't see why the knowledge would be relevant to you."
Kingsley chuckled. "I'm merely curious, Hermione. You demand a law, but won't elaborate on it, forbid me from telling my friend. I am human, after all."
Hermione's eyes bore into his, her face hardened. She didn't budge.
"Very well. Am I allowed to know, since you took the time to phrase your demands so carefully, what do I get out of this exchange? If I decide to heed your terms, that is."
"My influence. As a member of the Golden Trio. As a muggle-born war heroine. As one of the most brilliant witches of my age, with flying colours on all her N.E.W.T.s."
"I was under the impression you hadn't taken them yet."
Hermione squared her shoulder and stared him in the eye. "I haven't."
A minuscule smirk showed on the corner of his mouth. Kingsley raised his glass, slightly tilting the bottom towards her. "I believe we have a deal." Before he left the table, he added, "Feel free to order whatever you like, lunch is already paid for."
Hermione watched as he stood, watched his stride as he left the room.
The smell of freshly cooked salmon wafted through the room.
She found she couldn't eat.
When Hermione exited The Chesil Rectory, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. She was fine. The Auror had agreed to her terms, she had gotten what she wanted, hadn't she? Her hands had no business feeling cold. She took another slow, deep breath and raised her head. Her gaze focused on nothing at all at first, until her eyes found the bold, red 'Rented' sign on the formerly unoccupied office across the street.
For the first time since she arrived, Hermione really looked at the building. Another sign, not in bold or red, but glued to the glass wall read:
Soon to be another franchise of Smileydents,
Your teeth's best friend!
Nausea hit her despite her empty stomach. She wanted to disappear. To crawl into a hole and not think at all. To not feel at all. And so she did, for hours she didn't bother to count.
When Hermione Apparated into her room well into the night, exhaustion ingrained bone-deep into her body, she did so to find an envelope on her bed. Her window was open, but there was no owl to be seen.
She decided not to read it.
Her shoes were toed off her feet without any care, the dress abandoned in a pool by her feet as she changed into her pajamas. When she sat on the edge of her bed, Hermione stared at the letter. She broke the unmarked seal and removed the narrow paper inside. It was nothing like parchment—the back of the paper felt silky against her fingers. Silky as non-magical photo paper.
Her knees shook. Hermione slid off the bed, her chest hollow and aching as she tried to blink the tears bursting from her eyes away. They continued down her face, all the way down her neck until they were absorbed by her clothes.
The sobs were not far behind. Three people populated the photograph. Her father held a baguette under his arm. Her mother wore a red beret, and she, an exaggerated mustache. The Eiffel Tower stood half-cropped at their backs. The whole thing was terribly ludicrous and stereotypical yet the tourist guide had insisted they wore all the props before he took their picture. Part of the French experience, perhaps, to watch tourists make fools of themselves.
Hermione grabbed the envelope, looking for any distinctive marks on it. There were none. If Kingsley had sent her that letter…
She was nothing like him.
A muffled, soft voice came from outside her door, "Hermione, are you awake? It's Neville."
"Y-yes." Hermione dragged her forearm over her face. "Yes, Neville, come in."
"I, uh, come bearing tea. But I can leave if you want." Neville cracked the door open and peeked inside. The sight was enough for him to enter, apparently. "You're, um, your eyes are red. Did you have a nightmare?"
"Our lives are nightmares, Neville, most of the time."
"May I?" The boy motioned to the spot on the floor next to her. Hermione nodded. He balanced their cups on his hands before managing to sit crossed-legged, his knee touching hers. He put the beverages aside and Hermione showed him the image.
His eyebrows had lowered when he looked at her again. His lips were pinched together, his eyes shining wet. "Yeah, sometimes—sometimes they can feel that way."
Their tea grew cold. They cried together that night.
A/N: Here's the new chapter! I don't know how you guys feel about author notes (read a post these days about it and most people said they absolutely hated it), so I'm keeping this one short. Just wanted to say a huge thank you to those who voted for the story – Tie won 2nd place as Best Romance at the Marauder Medals! Yay!
As always, all my love to...
My reviewers: differentcrusadeexpert, SereniteRose, MargsMonday, Smokezombie96, MoonKitten02, NeverlandFunhouse, Guest, fikander, Hermione Lyra Malfoy-Riddle, katetastic, Hotmamantx, and NeverIsTheEternal.
To Florabob, bookworm4life0812, angelgirl42014, trouvaille, Smoran1018, Aditya Marathe, MadMadameA, Draconian666, rcasera23, GOD SAVE THE QUEEN 123, Mudblooddragonqueen, NeverlandFunhouse, TonariNoBri, SlytherinsFlower317, lexa2611, liliesandroses, QueenOfSuburbia850, CATylutki, EternalMadamBlaze, Star Moon Fox, Rosethebookwurm, Ally C-B, alexahizuri, Shadygreenbook, FernandaMF, ParkerAlexis88, mermaidpearls, NicoNepenthe, Catlimere, ShadowsDaughter, FudgeOff, bria0889, gigo192, ravenclawprincess74, AshelyBrogan 3, M-sichetta, snivellivellus, Lizard1988, Jenifael09, isba, RJLuux, Bimbumel2, Xionismeno prwino, BabyFoxOfAwry, Jeepx32, Maria Sven, TriciaA, remusbloodylupin, xXDruidic RoseXx, and Brunettebookworm18 for adding the story to their favorites.
And to Shadowhunter426, bookworm4life0812, ngelgirl42014, trouvaille, vbrown35, MadMadameA, CurrentlyFalling, Dragonsrose4, MarciKyle, Whatyouwanted, Draconian666, rcasera23, rachyangel, Evelie Call, xXDruidic RoseXx, XxXCaraXxX, Jane McCarthy, achiie, sammyjojaaaa, weeem25, Phetalla, johnocz, Marabele, Greuteri, SlytherinsFlower317, IluvHoney113, lexa2611, Raven2517, QueenOfSuburbia850, Mortae, Hoebaghobbs, grimuphere, EternalMadamBlaze, debateableimp, moosa, KSkinner221, Rosethebookwurm, itwasallyellow215, Ms daVinci, Ally C-B, alexahizuri, moonlillies, Spindle Kitten, Alindahaw, ParkerAlexis88, bloom softly, cece2046, Skello, Er1lys, astaruthqueiroz, honeyduck, NicoNepenthe, Catlimere, olivia rodriguez 927, ShadowsDaughter, profnuttybunch, IceAllyn, gigo192, Sothis G, NeverIsTheEternal, monseTS, M-sichetta, Xionismeno, magdalena parker, KayMist, Jenifael09, penny lupin, gunday, AnUnapologeticGeek, Fan-Moony-tastic, Bimbumel2, wanlet, elljayde, BabyFoxOfAwry, MrsMorgan813, tigerdogfl, snivellivellus, Jeepx32, ReitsuKyoruka, Jazzequin, Maria Sven, alexaguamenti, , ScarlettAvery, TriciaA, 7, remusbloodylupin, fikander, vadose, and msqazrew for following the story.
To guest: Sorry I couldn't deliver the chapter sooner, but it's here now.
Bye guys! I hope you enjoy and please review if you can :)