Retirement wasn't enough to make Hermione stop working. Not a day passed without her pouring over the books in her study and scribbling on parchment. Her career at the Ministry may have come to an end, but there were a myriad of things she could do from her own home. Politics had kept her away from many great books over the years, and not only was she determined to read them all, she was determined to make her own voice heard.

She wrote day and night, at times forgetting about other responsibilities. Luckily, she had others for that.

"Hermione," Fleur called up the stairs, "dinner's ready. If you're not down here in ten minutes, one of us is coming up there."

With a sigh, Hermione forced herself to put down her quill despite how painful it was to do. She'd been right in the middle of a crucial paragraph that she'd been working towards for the better part of the day, but when her partners called, she had no choice but to answer. She knew their determination would have her downstairs eventually, and it was far easier for all three of them if Hermione came on her own.

Her mind remained lost in her studies, though, as she ambled down the stairs. It was only once she was outside of the kitchen that the smell of burnt food brought her back to the house.

Of course, it was Tonks turn to cook dinner. Hermione sighed as she thought about how she'd have to force herself to eat it. At the beginning of their partnership, it had been nearly impossible for Tonks to cook a meal without burning it, but this was the first time she'd burnt something in nearly a year. Hermione had grown too complacent.

"What is that meant to be?" she asked as she entered the kitchen, unable to stop her nose from wrinkling as the smell grew stronger.

Fleur was sitting before one of the empty plates at the table and tapping away on her Muggle phone. She was likely talking to one of her friends in France who had gotten very into Muggle technology after her son was born a squib.

"She was meant to be baking lasagna," Fleur said without pausing in her typing.

Hermione turned to look at Tonks where she was bent over a casserole dish and pointing her wand at the pasta as if there was something she could do to save it. Hermione moved closer to see the food for herself, and couldn't help but groan at the blackened mess that looked nothing like the dish it was supposed to be.

"I'm sorry," Tonks moaned. "I thought this time would be different. My cookings been going so well recently, so I figured that I could finally best my arch nemesis, but I guess not. What is it with lasagna? Why's it so hard to cook?"

Hermione smiled and rubbed her girlfriend's back, choosing not to mention that lasagna really wasn't all that difficult to master, at least to the point of not burning it. They'd all accepted years ago that cooking just wasn't Tonks' forte.

"The nutrition is the same," Hermione said with a slight nod, taking out her wand and giving it a wave so that the casserole dish zoomed onto the table.

Fleur put away her phone and promptly started cutting the lasagna into squares and dishing it out onto their plates.

"I don't think that's true," Fleur observed as the other women sat down. She ignored Tonks' sharp look. "The longer many foods are cooked, the more nutrients they lose. Surely that's been in one of the countless books you've read, mon amour."

"Maybe it was in there somewhere," Hermione admitted with a slight shrug, accepting her plate back from Fleur. "Anyway," she said, quickly changing to subject to get rid of the frown on Tonks' face, "I reached the best part of the book today. I think I'll be ready to send it off to publishers within a couple of months. I can only hope one of them will be willing to accept it."

Tonks scoffed, sharing a look with Fleur.

"Of course they'll accept it," she said. "No publisher is going to turn down a book written by the most popular Minister for Magic that Britain's had in the last century at least."

Hermione blushed slightly and looked away from her partners. No matter how many times people framed her time as Minister in that way, it never stopped making her uncomfortable. She'd done her best, yes, but she hadn't done it alone, and she certainly hadn't done anything miraculous. It was mere luck that of her most recent successors, Kingsley was the only one who had cared more for their welfare of the wizarding world than their own skin.

"She's right," Fleur said, reaching across the table to rest her hand atop Hermione's. "Every witch and wizard in Britain knows you're one of the wisest in Britain. They'll all want to hear what you have to say, and we," she motioned at Tonks, who leaned forward to add her hand on top of theirs, "have read enough to know how brilliant it really is."

"Thank you," Hermione said quietly.

It never ceased to amaze her how, after decades together, Tonks and Fleur were still able to make her feel like a blushing school girl. There were few in the world who would be willing to listen to Hermione rant about what she was writing for hours on end, and she was still amazed that she'd found not just one but two amazing people happy to do just that. Sometimes, at least.

Tonks leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek as Fleur lifted her hand to do the same to the back of it. Hermione smiled, feeling warm and content. For the moment, at least, she'd forgotten that she still had a burnt piece of lasagna to eat.

Prompts:

Hogwarts Challenges and Assignments

Advent Calendar: Tonks/Fleur/Hermione

Seasonal Challenge - Audreys Dessert Challenge: cake 6 - write about a dinner/supper

Seasonal Challenge - Ravenclaw Themed Prompts: (trait) wise

Word count: 994