Passed Over

Even after being married for almost a decade, Fred Weasley at times misread this wife's signals. There were times when she stomped around their home, slamming down books and banging together kitchen pots, when she really just wanted someone to sit down with her while she ranted about some Ministry dimwit. There were other instances, however, when the stomping, slamming, and banging indicated that she wanted to be 'Left the fuck alone!' Fred sure hoped that today she wasn't in one of those former moods.

"I think it is a good thing you didn't get the promotion, luv."

"What?!" she growled, snapping her head around to fast to look at him that he thought for a moment her neck might be attached to some spring-loaded mechanism.

"I'm serious. Now when the department goes to hell in pair of dragonhide boots you can swoop in and save the day."

"But they gave the position to Malfoy," she spat. The fact that she and Malfoy had risen side-by-side throughout Ministry ranks had irritated her to no end. However, this was the ultimate insult. She couldn't believe she'd been passed over for interim department head in favor of that spoiled, foppish whelp.

Before Hermione had an opportunity to beat up another defenseless pillow or pound a frying pan, Fred broke into her thoughts. "What do you think is going to happen the next time the Wizengamot meets?"

"Malfoy will muck it up. He never has taken the time to figure out which members of the Magical Law Enforcement staff can best handle high pressure situations. He'll give too many cases to those with little experience and they'll lose at least a third of the winnable ones just because they are overworked. He'll give me some pointless, low profile case in an attempt to 'bury his competition'. And, he'll probably end up demanding that a number of cases that should really be plea-bargained away go to trial causing the proceeding to last a good two weeks longer than they should."

Fred grinned. "And when Kingsley gets fed up with how poorly the department is being run, who will he expect to clean up the mess Malfoy makes?"

"Me."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Quit and make them wallow in the sty they've created for themselves."

Fred shook his head and pulled his stubborn wife into his arm. "No. You are going to go into the office everyday. You are going to agree to do whatever Malfoy wants even after he brushes aside your sensible recommendations. You will win the case he assigns you so quickly and competently that you look like a paragon of efficiency compared to ferret-face. And when the Minister of Magic is kicking himself for ever giving Malfoy a leadership opportunity, you'll be there to step-in and make it all better. Before the year is over, you will be permanent head of the department and Malfoy will forever be marked as incompetent to handle a position in management."

Hermione mulled over his words before finally brightening and hugging him tightly. "How come no one else offers me sympathy in quite the same way as you?"

"It is simple, luv," he replied, kissing her lightly on the lips. "It's not sympathy; it's strategy."