Hermione gazed at herself in the mirror. After leaving the Shell Cottage she came back home to get changed.
She had chosen the same style she usually wore, but in a dark red color. Tight sleeves just past her wrist, moulded neckline just covering her clavicle, and a cinched waist.
Though she couldn't say she admired the Victorian style of most wizarding clothes, this had caught her eye. Another difference was that the front of the robe split, revealing a smoky gray skirt underneath.
Running her fingers through her wild curls, she told herself again to pin it up in a bun like normal.
A part of Hermione didn't want to. She wasn't heading to work as an Auror, but rather as looking for notification on her work status, which should have been sent days ago.
The silence infuriated her, and she wanted to remind Draco of who she was when they first met. Director or not, she was absolutely not going to put up with his ill-mannered attitude toward her.
Her reflection showed flushed cheeks and bright eyes. She ignored what had her so hot and bothered.
Hermione combed her fingers through her hair again and turned away from the mirror.
Then she stepped out to Apparate to work.
Since she didn't have her own office, she couldn't connect the Floo network at the Ministry to her flat.
The Atrium was busy as always, milling with people working, looking for a need to be filled, or disgruntled with a previous service.
Nudging her way confidently through the crowd, she reached an elevator in minimal time. It wasn't always easy, especially when she wasn't wearing the red Auror robes.
She walked past the desk leading back to the Aurors, managing a smile for the woman working diligently behind it.
Hermione had no intention of asking to see if Malfoy was in. If he was, he would be talking to her.
"Auror Granger! You're back at work." The words should have been excited and welcoming, but this was Malcolm Baddock speaking them. Thus, his tone was unpleasantly surprised and then massively disapproving without ever sounding angry or rude.
He was a dapper young man with slick black hair and an oily charm when the right person was around.
"Where's the Director?" She didn't feel the need to be polite either. He may be Head Auror, but in no way had he deserved it nor had he made it his own.
She knew he ran to Malfoy and told him everything, the little toadie.
"Do you have an appointment?" He stuck his nose up in the air, chest puffing out.
Hermione had a horrible flashback to pre-war Percy and had to quell the urge to laugh or shove him against a wall with wand jabbed in his throat.
"Baddock, I want to see him now."
A muscle under his cheek twitched, and he swallowed.
"Is there a problem here?"
Hermione turned, relieved to see Neville. Neville often spoke about retiring to return to his first love, Herbology, but he was still here. She suspected he stayed as solidarity with his former classmates against Malfoy.
He was still the lean, scarred young man from the war in many ways - if Harry hadn't wanted Head Auror, Neville would have been next in line. He really had grown into his looks, as well his ability to lead others.
She liked that very much right now.
"Not at all, Auror Longbottom." Baddock sneered.
"Why don't you go see if Malfoy is in? Or I can do it." Neville smiled before turning to Hermione. "I'm glad to see you're back. You didn't leave before the Healer allowed it again, did you?"
Soundly dismissed, Baddock sent them a miffed look and walked down the direction of Malfoy's office.
Hermione couldn't help but feeling of warmth. She could handle that garden snake on her own, but it was strangely exciting to see him do it for her. "I left with permission. He strongly recommended two weeks in bed. What am I going to do in bed for two weeks?" She laughed then, but a throaty one that she was sure she had never made before.
Neville blinked, then cleared his throat. "You do like to read."
One part of her watched with detachment as she took a step closer to him, fingers smoothing over his Auror badge. "That's so inactive. I'm used to adventure...you know?"
He was starting to turn a bit pink, eyes riveted on her upturned face and playful smile. "...yes?"
Heat came off his skin, she could feel it. Not by touch, but with some other sense she swore she'd never felt before.
Except earlier. With Harry.
She couldn't make herself stop. "Neville," she said thoughtfully, checking out his broad shoulders. Her voice dropped low, meant for just his ears. "All those times I helped you with Potions and the hours we spent alone…"
Neville was breathing short and shallow. "Yes."
She leaned close on her tiptoes with one hand on his chest, bracing her weight as she whispered against his neck. "Did you ever fantasize about me?"
He was absolutely blushing now, something she hadn't seen this grown-Neville do. "Well-I-I mean, we, uhh.."
Stop talking. Please, stop. She practically begged herself, slowly pulling her hand away from his robe. Her skin felt scalded by the amount of heat felt, and she wanted more.
"Director Malfoy isn't currently in. He has many important issues to deal with during the day." Baddock announced from behind.
Both angry and relieved at the interruption, Hermione looked over her shoulder at him. "I'll be in tomorrow. If he's not available when I get in, raining corridors will be the least of your worries."
She walked away, making herself go slow lest Baddock think she was running away from him.
She did look over her shoulder right before turning down the corridor.
Neville was still standing there, a bit dazed with fingers pressed where her fingers had been.
Once alone, Hermione groaned and held her head in her hands. That was even worse than it was with Harry. What had Fleur said? That Veelas made the desire as well as took it.
Perhaps it was worse where there was a previous history to draw off. Not that she had ever liked Neville that way, but she had been fully aware sometime fifth year that he had a crush on her.
She massaged her temples, then snuck to the elevators as quickly as possible. There was no bones about it, she had almost completely lost control.
With Neville.
Who was, last she heard, sharing a sweet and tentative flirtation with Hannah Abbott.
Hermione hit the first floor button on the elevator once it closed, feeling almost as miserable as she had after that last hour at St. Mungo's.
Flourish and Bott's had the most ridiculous catalogue in the existence of all book catalogues. It was possibly the thickest book in the word, and the summaries of volumes were all handwritten.
She had been flipping pages and poring over the handwriting for well over an hour. She was simply desperate. She was this close to writing Headmistress McGonogall and begging to use the library there.
It might be a little strange, a grown witch wandering around her old alma mater to read some books. However, by now as long as her request was granted, she didn't care what anyone though.
She was about to grab a fresh piece of parchment out of her bag when a title caught her eye.
Succubi and Veela: Facts and Myths.
Hermione hauled the open book to the counter to order it from the owner. She even paid extra galleons for a rush delivery.
"Thank you, Miss Granger." The owner took the payment and smiled warmly at her. "Thank you for your business."
She gave him a perfunctory smile and took the huge list back to a table to keep browsing. If hours in the library had taught her anything, it was that one book alone could not be relied on.
Round and round it goes, where it ends nobody knows...
Thank you so much for your reviews! I thought it was cute that some of you thought for sure Harry would be half of the endgame. ;) Oh no, the torture is just beginning for her, my loveies! No telling yet which one will end up her second...