I hope you enjoy. Missouri has decided to have First Spring, so we're off to enjoy the outside.
Chapter 19 Forward Movement
Wanting to research a muggle medical concept, Hermione apparated to Courtenay Avenue, there opting to drive to the local library. She selected her mother's Audi 8 from the garage. Her mum loved the car, frequently taking it to be washed and detailed. She fought long and hard to maintain the clean new car smell. Driving it made Hermione miss Eleanor and feel closer to her.
The library remained the way she remembered it. Bright white walls adorned with colorful signs meant to encourage reading. Reference desk on the side of the check-in/check-out counter. She turned the cement and metal staircase to the right and made her way up the periodical balcony. She asked for directions to the medical journals.
During a throwaway conversation, someone mentioned the Longbottoms, which caused her to start thinking about their condition. A handful of questions began percolating in the back of her mind. She remembered thinking how much they reminded her of people describing shell-shocked World War 1 soldiers. When the
Two hours later her table in the stakes resembled an orderly polite tornado. No bent pages or rips, just haphazard placement like the tornado had another thought occur and needed a new magazine. A small notepad lay in the middle of the chaos covered in notes. The researcher looked around, ensuring she had privacy before duplicating the journals and placing the magical copies in her beaded bag. She stack the originals on the table for the librarian to re-shelf and left the library to head for the center of London.
Entering the out-of-order telephone booth, Hermione grinned as she dialed 6-2-4-4-2. Once in the ministry, she made her way to the security desk. "Hello, Mr. Munch," she beamed at the guard.
"Er, hello, miss. Your wand?" She handed him her wand for him to scan. "Where are you off to, Miss Lestrange?"
"I wanted to see Mr. Yaxley. I have something for him."
"I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you. Here's your pass."
"Thank you, Mr. Munch," she flashed him another brilliant smile.
She warmly greeted the workers she knew as a Lestrange, even engaging a few in conversation. No one she encountered guessed she was not raised as the pureblood princess she now was. Even Yaxely's personal assistant smiled indulgently at her. "May I help you, miss?" he gave her an appraising look. Playing into his expectations, she preened before answering.
"I wanted to see Corbin," then she burst into giggles like she remembered Ginny doing around cute boys.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Yaxley is in an important meeting at the moment. Are you sure I can't help you?"
"Nope, sorry. You aren't Corbin. I'll just wait." She pranced around the desk and stole his seat.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
"Waiting," she replied as if it was the most obvious thing.
"You cannot do that!"
"I can't wait?" she asked innocently.
"Not there."
"Why ever not?"
"That is my desk," he glared at her.
She frowned, "Are you mean to all of Corbin's visitors?"
He reared back, insulted, "Certainly not!"
"So, you just don't like me?" her lower lip stuck out in a pout, quivering slightly.
"I never said that."
"But I can't use your seat. You want me to stand?"
"I never said that either. You just can't wait here, you have to leave. I will let Mr. Yaxley know you were here.
"Because you don't like me!" Hermione wailed.
"Miss Lestrange, please stop tormenting my assistant. Good ones are hard to find, don't break mine."
"But he made it so easy," she whined. "Hello, Yaxley," she grinned.
He laughed, "Cornelius, may I introduce Hermione Lestrange. Hermione, Cornelius Baptiste, Head of International Cooperation. Also, my assistant, Warwick Montague."
"Pleasure to meet you, sir."
"Mine as well, Miss Lestrange." Cornelius turned to Yaxley, "I will consider your argument."
"All I ask is an open mind." Once the older man left Yaxley returned his attention to Montague. "Don't let pretty girls fluster you. They aren't always as dumb as they act."
"If you say so, sir."
Yaxley chuckled, "Hermione here beat your best NEWT score with her worst. But, if you need more proof, what brings you here, poppet?"
"I'm researching the possibility that prolonged exposure to the torture curse could cause post traumatic stress disorder catatonia. I'm wondering if the muggle treatment of benzodiazepine and/or electroconvulsive therapy could help. Do you have a contact at St Mungo's? I have research for them."
Smirking Yaxley looked at Montague, "See? Don't underestimate witches based on looks."
"Or wizards," chirped Hermione, "don't be sexist, Yaxley."
"Or wizards. As to the contact, your Uncle Lucius is better placed than I am in that regard."
"Then, I guess I am off to his offices."
"I'll let him know you are coming. Try not to have too much fun terrorizing his staff."
"But they make it so easy," she protested.
"Go, spread your chaos elsewhere," he ordered.
"Spoilsport."
Lucius's gatekeepers proved more capable, being more experienced at rebuffing unannounced visitors. The matronly woman peered at Hermione over her spectacles, "Do you have an appointment, young lady?"
"Not exactly," Hermione gave her a coy smile, "but I am here to see Mr. Malfoy, please."
"Both Misters Malfoys are indisposed. Would you like to make an appointment? Mr. Lucius Malfoy has an opening in four months, but Mr. Draco Malfoy should be able to see you next week."
Hermione wrinkled her nose, "Draco is of little to no use, no thanks." The receptionist struggled to keep from smiling. Fresh from school, Draco was still learning the ropes, disrupting the woman's well oiled machine. "No, I need Lucius." Hermione cocked her head to the side, looking every inch a paragon of innocence, "Maybe if you let him know Hermione is here?"
"Now, young lady, I do not know what kind of game you are playing, but you cannot come in here making veiled inferences of your supposed importance. If Mr. Malfoy smiled at you or suggested you should come see him someday, I assure you he was being kind, but insincere. He did not mean it."
"I think he would appreciate it if you let him know I am here, please."
"You must desist. Mr. Malfoy is a busy man."
"Hermione? Is that you?" Lucius interrupted the woman.
"Uncle Lucius, hello." She grinned at him.
"A lovely surprise. I was just coming to let Ms. Hannigan know you were coming."
"She's very good at her job. She deserves a bonus."
"Does she?" he looked over at the flustered receptionist. "If you insist."
"She was very firm about not allowing me through. And even if she thought I might be a possible affair, she never suggested you would stoop to having one," Hermione smiled impishly.
"Your aunt would skin me alive and use me as a rug."
"No, that would be tacky. She'd use you as fertilizer."
"Agreed. So, a bonus for Ms. Hannigan? Done, shall we adjourn to my office?" He led her to the lifts and up to his 8th-floor office. "Yaxley said he was unable to help you?"
"He felt you would be better connected at St. Mungo's." She explained her theory.
"May I ask why? I will help you regardless, I am just curious."
"Albus Dumbledore manipulated Augusta Longbottom to fear Neville might be the Chosen One. She's done her best to repress his magical abilities, while still lamenting he is not his father. That isn't fair to Neville. She even made him use his father's wand, once he stopped his magic improved greatly. He never should have been using that wand."
"And how does restoring his parents change anything?"
"It gives him his parents back. It rights one of the many wrongs done by Albus Dumbledore's greater good."
"I will pass these along to the leader of the research team."
"I want all researchers on the team to get recognition. Some pureblood isn't going to force all the work on some muggleborns because they don't understand the science, then swoop in and take complete credit."
"That can be arranged." Lucius looked uneasy.
"Relax, the Dark Lord won't punish you for letting them take credit."
"I am more worried about convincing the purebloods."
"I have complete faith in your powers of persuasion. They can be on the forefront of change."
"The Dark Lord did mention a way to assimilate muggleborns into our society."
"Yes, but those are his plans. Mine is to undo as much of the damage done by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore as possible, at least for now."
"And later?"
Hermione shrugged, "Who knows?"
"Any other wrongs you intend to right?"
"Baby steps, Uncle, baby steps."
-oOoOo-
Before writing to Neville, Hermione decided to talk it over with Luna. She invited the blonde over to revise for her NEWTs as well. Expecting company, she called out at the knock without looking, "Come in." She continued, "Hey, Lu, I just wondered," She turned to find Marcus watching her from the doorway, grinning. "You are not Luna."
"No, I am not. Does this mean I should leave?"
"I suppose not. Luna does need to meet you and you need to meet her. Stay."
He walked into the room, "You look nervous, why? I know who Luna Lovegood is, and if she's anything like Selene, it should be fine."
Laughter startled both of them. "I'm so happy we'll be getting along then." Luna entered. "Hello, Hermione. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Flint."
"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Lovegood," he took her hand, pressing a dry kiss to the back of it.
Luna tittered, "Such formality."
"You started it, I just followed your lead, call me Marcus."
"Call me Luna."
"Peregrine thinks it is odd that so many of your friends are named after the moon," he remarked.
"Only the one," Hermione quipped.
"No, Luna is one, Selene is two."
"No, only one," she kissed his cheek.
"Because Luna is Selene," he guessed.
"I always knew you were smarter than people claimed," Luna laughed.
"Cuter, too," added Hermione.
He ran his hand through his hair, "Graham is going to love this."
"Come again? Why would he care?"
"He fancies both of them and worried if he ended up hurting one of them while trying to get to know them, you would kill him. Now, he can relax, they are the same person."
"Who knows he fancies her," Hermione pointed out.
"Is dating an older man nice?"
"It has some perks, I quite like it."
"Pardons, mistress, these arrived for you," Maisie delivered a large bouquet.
Hermione groaned at the sight, "Not again."
Marcus frowned, "Who are those from?"
"Pavel Greyback, Fenrir's nephew, he keeps sending me flowers and such. I sent the last three back. He refuses to take the hint." She pulled her wand and decapitated the flowers. She incinerated the petals. She scooped the ashes into the vase of stems. "Maisie, please send these back to their sender."
"Has he been bothering you?" Marcus asked.
"Lord Voldemort banished him from my presence at my request. He persists in sending gifts. If that changes I will let you know."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Luna broke in, "This isn't what you wanted to discuss."
"It is not. I want to reach out to Neville. He deserves to know what happened to his parents, why his grandmother treats him as she does, and to let St. Mungo's try the new treatment I suggested."
"You don't know what to say?" Luna asked.
"Or where to meet, I cannot invite him here. Mummy Dearest and I barely tolerate each other most of the time."
"And she's the one who tortured them," Marcus said.
"I'll be nervous enough without adding that once we meet he'll know what happened to Hermione Granger. If this goes badly my last memory of Neville will be of turning my wand on my friend erasing that knowledge."
"Meet somewhere out of the way," Marcus suggested."Peregrine and I, or Cassius, can be watching. If need be, one of them can do it."
"Do you think they would?"
"Of course, they're your friends, too."
Luna stared at the stationary thoughtfully, "How about the truth, or at least half of the truth?"
"Go on," urged Hermione.
"An old friend learned some concerning news he deserves to know and wants to meet."
"That sounds reasonable," Hermione quickly penned the note, "I asked him to reply with a time via owl. If he doesn't reply, I will assume he doesn't want to meet and won't trouble him again." Luna squeezed her hand. Hermione looked at Marcus, "We planned on revising. August is nearly over, Lu has to test next week or return to school."
"So study. I just wanted to spend time with you."
By the end of the evening, Luna proclaimed herself ready. "Relax, Mione, I'm not you. I don't want top scores, just enough to pass and be proclaimed finished. My life plan is to help Daddy run the Quibbler and search for exotic animals."
Hermione signed, "You are your own person. Still, good luck."
"Thanks," Luna smiled, her eyes dancing with mischief, "Perhaps Marcus should reward you for such a mature attitude?"
He smirked at the blonde, "I most assuredly can." He leered at his girlfriend who swotted him.
Luna giggled, "Is that my cue to leave?"
"No," Hermione responded.
"Yes," Marcus said at the same time.
"Hmm, who to listen to? My host or her boy toy?"
"Oi, he is not my boy toy. No more muggle movies for you," Hermione protested.
"If it means you play with me and I get to play with you, I could be your boy toy," he offered.
"Do not encourage her," she reprimanded.
"No, but you need fun and distraction. Let me know what Neville says."
"I will," she walked her friend to the floo.
"Let him take care of you, remember everything he does is because he wants to."
"Goodbye, Luna."
"I'm just trying to give you good advice."
Hermione sighed, "We've been dating barely three months, that feels early to be getting that intimate."
"Are you worried about what others will think?" Luna cocked her head to the side.
"No."
"Are you worried that Marcus will get tired of you and leave you broken again?"
"Again? Luna, I'm still broken. Just because some of the pieces aren't jagged anymore doesn't mean none of them cut."
"You're right, I'm sorry. You just mask the pain so well most of the time." Luna embraced her. "Go share your pain and let him make it better."
"No one wants an emotionally needy girlfriend," Hermione snapped back.
Luna smiled sadly, "Is that you, or Ron, speaking?" Hermione glared at her. "Marcus," she emphasized his name, "is waiting."
"I hate you right now."
"I love you. The Rookery." Luna vanished in a swirl of green flames. Hermione returned to the parlor, dark thoughts twisting in her brain with every step. Was she afraid Marcus would tire of her? Would she recognize the signs of disinterest? Luna was right, she needed to discuss these thoughts with one person with answers.
Something must have shown on her face when she entered the room. Marcus immediately stood, "What happened? Did Longbottom refuse?"
"No, nothing like that. Luna's teasing turned into that ability of hers to see issues you are ignoring."
"And those issues involve me?" he looked concerned. "Have I done something?"
She shook her head, "Again nothing like that." She walked into his outstretched arms. He pulled her to him. "I know I don't seem it, but I am still broken inside." He rocked her gently. "I hide it well because I learned no one wanted to know how I felt. All those orders just worsened traits I already possessed." She swallowed, "I know I'm not as experienced as most groupies are, or other women you might know. And my last partner did little to boost my confidence there. I am nervous about moving too fast and having stronger feelings and having stronger feelings than you. Then I fret about moving too slowly and you giving up because I'm too messed up."
"Impossible. I'm sure you're imagining wild orgies of debauchery, but not my style. I prefer classy smart witches. The kind that expects more than a one night stand. And usually the ones with no interest in a second son with bad teeth and rough looks. A bloke so dumb he had to repeat his seventh year. I preferred quidditch and it showed. Though, it did mean I got to see you all dolled up for the Yule Ball." He tightened his arms around her. "And when we remove Weasley from the count- you seem to prefer burly quidditch players."
"You're saying we're both each other's type, and we're both insecure about things, and that's okay."
"Pretty close. I would add we both get to decide how far and how fast we move. No one else gets a say."
"I like that," she wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Me, too." He kissed the top of her head. "I don't really want to go out, but I also don't want to just sit here listening to the radio, you know?"
"Yeah, I wish wizards had telly, wonderful brainless telly. Not always brainless, but it can be effortless entertainment."
"Sounds night. Wish we did have something like that."
An idea occurred to Hermione, "Wizards might not have a telly, but I do."
"I'm confused."
"I still own my childhood home. I kept the electricity on and the satellite hooked up." She nibbled her lower lip, "And I want to share that little bit of my past with you."
"Really?" his eyes widened in surprise.
"Yeah. Are you scared?"
"Of what? Muggle cooties? If those were real you would have given to me before now."
She rolled her eyes, "Give me a minute a few minutes to add you to the wards."