CH 66: Adjusting to the Real World

Hermione sat at her desk trying desperately to focus on the case in front of her. She'd been back from her honeymoon for almost two weeks but still hadn't caught up on the work that had built up in her absence. But, with her exit plan firmly set in her mind, she had found she was working with an increased energy and vigor that she hadn't experienced in months. However, today she was fighting down the butterflies in her stomach as she planned to talk to Nicola at lunch that day. She knew it was the right thing, but it didn't make it easy to tell her friend she was leaving. Glancing at her watch, she hurried to type up her notes on the case she had been working on.

"I can't take this anymore," Nicola yelled from down the hall. "Please let's go now. I am too distracted thinking about the vodka cream sauce I'm planning to eat at lunch to read any more case law."

Hermione chuckled, marking her spot in her file before grabbing her purse and jacket and heading down the hall to her friend.

"Don't have to convince me," she said as she stood in the door frame to Nicola's office. "Let's go. Sounds like we're headed to Al Fresco's?"

"Hell yeah. I have been fantasizing about their ravioli with vodka cream all morning."

Before long they were seated in the back of a small Italian restaurant not far from their office. The waiter greeted them as he poured their water glasses.

"Regular salmon salads today, ladies?

"Not today, Mario. I need the big guns. And it's too early for alcohol so I need the ravioli with vodka cream today."

"Oh, going for the hard stuff today, huh?"

"Absolutely. How about you, Hermione?"

"I'll do the same. As much as I like the salmon salad, I can't possibly eat lettuce while I watch her eat the ravioli," she laughed.

"Two raviolis it is," the waiter said as he headed off to the kitchen.

"So, what has you needing carbs and vodka cream sauce today?" Hermione asked.

"Well, John convinced me to go to the gym with him last night. I spent 30 minutes on the treadmill and thought I would die. I know he wants to do it again tonight. Figure I need to carbo load."

Laughing, Hermione said, "You do know that's only for running like a marathon, right?"

"Oh I know. But really, I'm just hungry and it is so damn good."

"No argument there."

"So, you going to tell me whatever it is you are going to tell me?" Nicola quipped with her eyebrow raised.

Hermione gave a sad smile to her friend. "We've known each other too long to not be able to see through each other, huh?"

Nicola just nodded. "So?"

"Well, remember a few months back when you told me you wanted me to quit before I gave everything up and opened a knitting shop or something?"

"Or a raunchy knicker store. But, yes; I remember."

"Well, I think I may have found a perfect solution that gets all of us what we need right now."

"I'm intrigued. Keep going. But, just know if this is you giving your notice, you are absolutely picking up the bill for lunch."

Hermione laughed. "Sorted. I'm going to keep talking now. Alright?"

"Oh, bloody hell, tell me already!"

"Right. Well, I have been asked to establish and then lead a new philanthropic foundation that will work to fund different non-profits around the world. It's backed by a very wealthy family that wishes to remain anonymous but has some very exciting and very clear goals that really align so amazingly with mine I can't turn it down. BUT, before you say what I know you are going to say, I have to tell you that as part of hiring me, I negotiated a deal that included money for our organization so you can replace me with two lawyers AND fund a scholarship to train law students who could work as interns here in order to train in refugee law. So, yes, I am going to leave. But, no, it's not immediate, and I think I can manage to make sure that I don't leave you in a position where you are left buried in work. I can still help when you need it, I just won't work here full time starting in June. I'll transition out slowly so I can help train whoever we are able to bring on. I think the only bad thing will be that I won't be down the hall from you anymore. But, honestly, this new foundation doesn't even have an office yet, so maybe I can be nearby if I work it out right." She looked at her friend's face to try and read her expression. "Nic, I'm sorry. I have to do this. You know that, right?"

Nicola took a deep breath, letting it slowly just as the waiter brought them bread. "Change of plans, Mario. We need even bigger guns today. Bring us a bottle of Prosecco. And, Hermione is picking up the bill today, so make it a really expensive bottle, yeah?"

"Absolutely," Mario smiled as he saw Hermione nod in agreement.

Turning to her friend, Nicola finally smiled. "Hermione, of course I know you have to take this. And, as much as I hate it, I am thrilled for you. Maybe a little jealous in some twisted way, but not too much. I love what I do. And, while you loved it for years, it's been clear over the past year and a half or so that it isn't fueling you anymore. Heaven knows you can't do this kind of work without that inner drive. It's too fucking hard and too bloody draining to do it without that inner reward system."

"You're not mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. I'm happy for you, you barmy girl. Don't get me wrong, you are totally buying lunch, and I will work you to the bone as your transition out. But, I couldn't be happier for you. It sounds like the absolute most perfect job for you that I could ever imagine. Actually, I couldn't really even imagine that perfect of a job for you. However did you find such a thing?"

Hermione smiled, relieved she had anticipated such a question. "I can't say too much because I am ethically and legally bound to keep the financial backers strictly anonymous. But, I can tell you I was connected to this opportunity through some of the contacts Ron had from work he did back in the late 90s."

"Well, that is bloody brilliant. You end up landing the guy of your dreams and the job of your dreams. Good for you." As Mario came and poured the prosecco, Nicola soon was raising her glass. "To Hermione, and the amazing things you will do with all that money!"

Hermione laughed and clinked classes with her old friend. "And to Nicola, and all the good you will do with all the money you will get out of this whole thing."

"Here, Here!" Nicola added.

Across London, Ron was having a slightly less enjoyable lunch in a private dining room at The Ministry of Magic. The small room held a circular table, around which there were squished more people than could comfortably fit. Ron used the overcrowded space as an excuse to push back slightly from the table, at least distancing himself somewhat from the tension filled conversation flying around the room.

"But it's the twentieth anniversary," protested Celestia Finkersmith, a young witch who had taken over the PR Department. "The people expect to hear from the Golden Duo, but not everyone can go all the way to Hogwarts."

"However that may be, we are not turning a solemn anniversary into a traveling sideshow. Ron and I have agreed to attend the Hogwarts ceremony on the 2nd and offer brief remarks. Brief remarks. And we have agreed to attend the gala - but not to give remarks - that Saturday if, and only if, there is a fundraising component which continues to fund the Dumbledore Fund at the school."

"But that limits who will actually get to see their heroes at this important time of remembrance. If you would at least consider doing several more speeches around the country-"

"He said no, Celestia. You need to drop it or we won't do any of this nonsense," Ron said in a burst of exasperation. "It's a hard enough day without this bloody circus."

The young witch look chastised and stopped speaking.

"Ms. Finkersmith," McGonagall cut in. "I think what Mr. Weasley is trying to say is that for many of us this day is not about history, it is very, very personal. While your generation grew up celebrating the Second of May as a holiday where we celebrate happy endings, many of the people around this table face that day each year as a day remembering the horror of losing friends and burying loved ones or living through other hells that the history books will never be able to capture."

"I apologize, Professor, Minister, Aurors Weasley and Potter," said the young witch quietly. "I did not mean to cause any additional pain. My hope from this anniversary is that we can help younger generations, myself included, remember what the day really is about. And it takes hearing from the people who lived through these experiences to help us know what that is. Otherwise it all becomes hype. So, maybe it isn't a speaking tour. But, how can we get people to remember what occurred, honor those we lost, and maybe most importantly learn how to be sure we never repeat the mistakes that got us there in the first place."

The room was quiet for a moment, with those who had lived through the war lost in memories and those who didn't remember holding their breath waiting for the others to set the tone.

Finally, the Minister spoke. "What if we asked several people to write something that could be printed and distributed instead of a speakers' tour?"

"Brilliant. I love that," Harry chimed in.

"I'm in," added Ron.

"I think that is an excellent idea, Kinglsey," McGonagall said. "Who shall we ask?"

Kingsley considered this for a moment before saying, "I think the four of us, Neville, Ron - really anyone else in your family who would be willing to write something."

"I just want to be sure this isn't printed alongside some 'where are the heroes now' shite in the Prophet," said Ron.

Harry nodded quickly, and Kingsley held up his hand in assurance. "I will ensure that myself. I'm not saying they won't run those articles or pictures or whatever it is they make up. But I will ensure they are not in the same publication. We can see that the Ministry prints up and distributes this on its own."

"Do you think we could promote it with some interviews at the Prophet?" chimed in the eager PR witch.

"We are done here, Ms. Finkersmith," announced McGonagall as she stood up.

"Yes, Professor," she said, again chastised.

Kingsley stood as well and began to escort McGonagall out. The many Ministry underlings soon scuttled after them. The young PR witch stood to gather her things and follow, but Ron stopped her.

"We're not angry at you, you know," he said quietly. "It's a tough day for us. But if your generation never learns about it, you are right - we'll be right back there again. It's just about finding the right balance of teaching people while honoring and remembering those we lost."

"Thank you, sir," she said earnestly with damp eyes. "I take that charge very, very seriously. I apologize if I cross the line in my zeal to do so. I will absolutely do better. And I promise, I won't let people forget."

"Thanks," nodded Harry as he shook her hand briefly as a sign of dismissal. She nodded, and then left the famous Golden Duo alone in the room. As she left, Ron flicked his wand, sealing the door behind her to give them a moment of quiet privacy.

"That was bloody exhausting," Ron said as he rubbed his closed eyelids trying to relieve the dull ache that had begun pounding behind his eyes.

Harry sat in one of the scattered chairs, putting his feet up on another as he tipped his head back, took of his glasses and rubbed his eyes as well. "You think we could get away with just hiding in here for the next couple of weeks until it's over?"

"Even the ruddy tent looks good right now," quipped Ron.

"I never thought I'd see the day where you wanted to go back to the tent," Harry laughed, eyes still closed.

"We're old, Harry," Ron said with a sigh. "I just told some adult witch to teach her generation about us. She may not have even been born in '98."

"I know. We have absolutely become the stodgy old ministry wizards we swore never to become."

"Nah," Ron laughed. "I quit, remember? I don't work here anymore. I'm just a stodgy old wizard. You're the stodgy old ministry wizard."

Harry shook his head, and then in a moment of channeling his inner Fred, threw a roll leftover on the table at Ron's head.

Ron laughed, but didn't fight back. "But now we have to write something brilliant, don't we?" he said dryly, more as a statement than a question.

"Yeah," Harry sighed is resignation. "But it beats a bloody speaking tour."

Later that evening, Hugo and Hermione were making spaghetti in the kitchen when Ron came through the floo looking completely disheveled and speckled in mud.

"Sorry I'm so late," he apologized as he came into the kitchen.

"What happened to you? I thought you were at the Ministry today?" Hermione asked. But before he could answer, Hugo beat him to it.

"Ron! I made meatballs tonight! Hermione helped me. But it's from my Gran's recipe so it has to be good."

"Anything from your Gran sounds amazing. Let me pop upstairs and wash up and I'll be right back down," he said, planting kisses on both of their cheeks before he headed out of the room.

"You have about 20 minutes 'til it's done," Hermione called after him.

"Excellent. Time to shower then."

Not much later, a much cleaner Ron came back down and poured wine for he and Hermione while they put the final touches on dinner.

"So how did you get covered in mud today?" Hugo asked as he shoved a huge meatball into his mouth with a smile.

"Uh, Hugo, manners please," admonished Hermione. "Chew and swallow, and try not to choke."

He just nodded but kept smiling, so Ron took a sip of his drink and launched into his story. "I was at the Ministry today, but then I heard that Flitchner, the bloke who teaches the physical training stuff at the academy, had broken his leg this morning. He'll be fine in a day or two, but they needed help, so I headed out to fill in for him this afternoon. I was a mess, but it was good. I hadn't run that obstacle course in years, so it was fun to see I still had it in me. But I am starving and plan to inhale this delicious dinner.

Dramatically swallowing the meatball with a loud gulp, Hugo said, "Mummy always used to brag that she could beat you at that thing. Is that true?"

Ron grimaced while Hermione grinned. "Technically, yes. True. Your mummy was always a freakishly fast runner despite her short legs, and being tall has its disadvantages when you are trying to shimmy through the mud under the wires and other obstacles."

"But shouldn't it help you when you have to run and jump over walls and such?"

"Yeah, yeah, eat another meatball. Fi was really, really fast. And she never let me live down the fact that I never beat her on that stupid course."

Hugo grinned and ate another meatball while chuckling at Ron.

"Well, I had a good day," Hermione announced. "Nicola and I finally had a chance to go out to lunch."

"So you talked to her?" Ron asked anxiously.

"Yeah, I did."

"Talked to her about what?" asked Hugo.

"Well," Hermione said she put her wine glass back down, "I am going to change jobs."

"You are?!" asked Hugo, unable to mask the shock in his voice. "You know, Hermione, I've known you my whole life, and you were never big on surprises. But in just a few weeks you throw a surprise wedding and now this. You're changing!"

Hermione and Ron both laughed at this accurate assessment.

"I guess you're right," she agreed. "I was getting frustrated about my job. I wanted to spend more time in the magical world, and I was getting tired of trying to fix problems that could have been avoided if someone had helped these families years ago. So, I am really lucky, and now I have found a job with an organization that wants to give grants to both muggle and magical charities to help solve those problems. My new job is to help set up the foundation and then decide which organizations would be the best to fund."

Hugo crinkled his forehead in confusion. "Wait a minute. You're new job is to give other people's money away?"

"That's one way to look at it I suppose."

"How on earth did you find that kind of job? If I had a bunch of money I would want to give it away myself. Whose money is it anyway?"

Ron laughed, and tried not to spit out the wine he had just sipped. "I just got really lucky, I think," admitted Hermione. "I was able to connect with a really, really wonderful and generous family who wanted to do this. They have asked to remain anonymous."

"What's anon-mus mean?" Hugo asked.

"Anonymous means that they want to keep their name a secret. They don't want anyone to know it is them."

"That's barmy!" Hugo declared. "Some super rich family wants to give all this money away but doesn't want anyone to know it's them so they are hiring you to do it?"

"More or less, yes."

"But how can people say thank you or be nice to them for giving them the money?"

"I think that's the point, buddy," Ron said. "This way, this family gets to have everything go on as normal. People won't treat them weird or give them special treatment for doing good things. They won't end up with their picture in the paper or get a million requests for money every day. But, they can have Hermione make sure that the money is doing the best things it can do. And anyone who needs to say thanks, well, I am sure Hermione will pass that along."

"Huh," said Hugo, mulling this over.

"I'll get to work with organizations to help them figure out how to make the most long lasting impacts – like expanding schools or jobs in some places to help families stay where they are instead of trying to come here as refugees."

"Oh, ok. I think I get it. So you'll still be helping people but more at the start than at the end?"

"Exactly!" said Hermione.

"Cool," said Hugo. "But if it was my money, I'd still want to give it away myself."

"Noted," laughed Ron. "I'll remember that if you ever win the lotto."

"I need to owl Rose and let her know as well," mused Hermione. "I just didn't want to say anything until I'd talked to Nicola."

"So did she take it ok?" Ron asked.

"Pretty well. She made me buy lunch and wine, of course, but she was relieved at my plan to stay full time this month and then transition slowly out starting in the summer as I train the new people. She was very touched that I had negotiated that as part of my new job."

"Well, good," smiled Ron, a twinkle in his eye. "Nicola has always had my best interests at heart. I'm glad to know others are keeping an eye out for her."

Hermione felt a blush creep up her neck, and Hugo looked between them oddly, realizing there was some part of the conversation he wasn't quite grasping, but he didn't say anything and instead turned his attention to another meatball.

"Well, another thing Nicola was excited about was that on the way back from lunch, she noticed that the office down the hall from us – that small accounting firm that's been there forever? Well, they got too big for the space and have moved down the street, so that office is open now. And, I think it might be just the right size for the new foundation's office."

"Really? That would be perfect," smiled Ron. "Then you could still do lunch with her!"

"Precisely," nodded Hermione.

"What luck!"

"Well, luck is all relative," Hermione admitted.

"What do you mean?" asked Ron, a mouth full of pasta.

"Chew and swallow, Ron. Same thing I tell Hugo," Hermione muttered as Hugo high-fived the ginger with a giggle. "As for luck being relative, I may have talked to the gentleman who leads the accounting firm. I've known him forever, of course. He's been really wonderful and helped me with some things over the years. Anyway, I approached him about his space, and he let me know if they had one or two more accounts he would need to move. And, I may have let him know there was a foundation looking for some accounting services as they set things up."

"Brilliant," smiled Ron.

"See, Hermione," mused Hugo. "You could have been Slytherin like I'm going to be!"

At that, all three of them broke into giggles. It took a while before they could pull themselves together to finish off their dinner. Once his dishes were cleaned up, Hugo ran off to work on an art project and Hermione slid closer to Ron at the table, kissing some pasta sauce off of his lips.

"I'm glad it went so well with Nic," he said.

"You're ok with me hiring that accounting firm without talking to you?"

"Honey, we talked about this. You are running this organization. You don't need to check in with me. Just call if you need a signature or something, but other than that, it's all yours."

"Ok. But, I plan to run it as if I was the legal and business leader and not the anonymous giver. And, as such, there will be times I'll need to meet with that anonymous family from time to time to run my ideas past the funders. And at those times, I will expect you to push back on things, alright?"

"Alright," he said. "And as that anonymous family, I am confident my wife and I will want to be sure that the legal and business leader of our foundation is paid appropriately – at least what she made as a solicitor prior to this career shift."

"That seems silly," protested Hermione. "Running our money through the organization to pay me?"

"But if we are audited and you aren't being paid, won't it raise flags?"

"Hate it when you beat me at logic," she muttered as she took her plate up to the counter.

"Come on. We need to do this right. It just so happens you are filling this role now. But, if we do it right we can set it up to run long after we are around. And part of that will be setting up the staff expenses to hire the best and brightest, which in my totally unbiased opinion, is you."

"Totally unbiased my arse," Hermione laughed.

"Brilliant arse, too," he smiled as he ran his fingers across her bum.

"Oh rubbish," she said as she smacked his hand away playfully. "So, enough about me. How did your meeting at The Ministry go?"

Ron closed his eyes and grimaced.

"That good, huh?"

"Well, I ended up insulting some eager young witch who wanted to parade Harry and me around on a bloody speaking tour, which we are not doing by the way. I didn't make her cry, but I came close. And then she said her generation needs to know about things, which is true of course, but managed to make me feel like the stodgy old wizard I apparently am."

"Ouch."

"So in the end the compromise is that Harry and I will speak at the Hogwarts service on the 2nd, we'll attend the gala that weekend if it's a fundraiser for the Dumbledore Fund – but no speeches, and then a number of us will write pieces about the anniversary or the war or whatever and then Kinglsey said he'll have the Ministry print and distribute them so that they aren't in the Prophet next to some rubbish article about how I am dating an alien or something."

Hermione chuckled as she shook her head. "Well, that sounds like a brilliant compromise. You don't have to give any more speeches or attend any more events than you had already planned on doing."

"Right. But now I have to write something brilliant. Well two things, really – the essay and the speech. And writing was never my strong suit."

"You're forgetting. You married someone who writes almost all day every day. I'll help you."

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course, you ridiculous husband of mine. I'd help you do anything. And writing essays? I can practically do that in my sleep. You just need to help me with the content or feel of what you want to say, and I can do all the wordsmithing."

He stared at her for a minute and muttered, "Marrying you was the most brilliant move ever!" Then proceeded to kiss her as he slipped his arm around her waist, drawing her tightly to him.