New Jobs
Astoria Disapparated from London to the hill above Greengrass Grange. After a long day deep in the bowels of the Ministry, for most part in the dark vaults of the archive, she longed for sunlight and open skies.
When she appeared on the hill above the Grange, the sky smiled blue and white. The gentle landscape of Devon sprawled before her, lush with spring.
For a moment Astoria just stood and breathed, inhaling air rich with the scents of damp earth and green grass.
That day had certainly turned into a surprise! To start with, she hadn't anticipated to be interviewed by the boyfriend of her deceased sister. It had given her quite a turn to see Theo again. The last time they'd met was at her sister's funeral pyre. And now he was working for the Minister of Magic? She sighed. Some people were like cream, they always ended up swimming at the top. Theo certainly had the suave, slimy personality that fit a job like the Minister's personal assistant.
He'd grilled her thoroughly; studying her OWL and NEWT certificates as well as perusing all parchments that documented her previous work experience. Merlin, she'd barely managed to maintain her studied air of elegant aloofness then. She'd been so close to turning into a puddle of gibbering goo on the Persian rug that graced the floor of Theo's office.
Her father in Azkaban, her sister dead, her mother lost to gin and depression, the family fortune seized, she knew that it was only a matter of weeks until the Goblins would evict them from the ancient home of the Greengrass family, if she didn't manage to find a job with a solid income.
Another deep breath.
She had that job now.
When Theo had told her his decision, she had started crying. She winced internally, remembering the expression of haughty disdain that had passed over Theo's face, before he'd conjured up a handkerchief of lavender silk and offered it to her.
Following Theo downstairs to the archives, Astoria had believed that nothing could overcome the feeling of shocked euphoria that was coursing through her body.
How wrong she'd been.
Again.
Draco Malfoy had returned as ghost?
She'd positively stopped dead in her tracks. And gaped. Like a lobalug. And only prevented herself from committing yet another terrible faux pas at the very last moment. You simply did not greet a ghost with "But I thought you are dead?"
Completely stunned, she'd ended up simply offering her hand to him. She shivered with the memory at the icy touch of the ghost's translucent fingers, her nipples pressing uncomfortably against the front of her robes.
Astoria shook her head. Why has mother never mentioned Draco's return? In spite of everything that had happened, Queenie Greengrass was still thick as thieves with Narcissa Malfoy. Astoria brushed off a measure of archival dust from her robes, then halted. Could it be that Draco's mother didn't know that her son had come back as a ghost?
No, Astoria thought. That's impossible.
But she'd definitely ask her mother all the same why she'd never mentioned that before.
oooOooo
Hermione sneezed. Once, twice. Eyes streaming with tears, she waited for the cloud of dust to settle.
She balled her hands into fists to resist the temptation of rubbing her eyes. They were already red and inflamed. A detour to the hospital wing for some Eyebright Potion was definitely in order before she returned to the dungeons tonight.
Finally she put down the Diricawl duster and stepped back to survey her handiwork.
At least cleaning the books in the Restricted Section was one of the few tasks at Hogwarts that really had to be done Muggle-style. These books were much too dangerous to be cleaned with magic or by students. And Irma Pince wasn't getting any younger. She really appreciated having an assistant, even an incapacitated, wandless witch.
Hermione smiled at the shelves. Not single mote of dust or bit of lint was in sight. The age-darkened oak wood shone with polish. The leather bindings of the bestiaries gleamed in the dim light of the library. The warm, woodsy scent of Severus' book polish (lanolin, beeswax, cedarwood oil, murtlap solution and petroleum) pervaded the room.
Not bad for eight hours of slaving away, Hermione mused, stretching the kinks out of her back with a groan. Time to call it a day.
The shadow who lingered in the corner behind her seemed to agree and faded away.
"Crooks?" Hermione called softly. "Let's go!" The cat uncurled and leapt down from the window sill.
On their way out, they stopped at the librarian's desk. Madam Pince was poring over the fines ledger with a pinched expression on her face.
"Irma? I just wanted to tell you that I'm done for the day, so you can restore the wards. I finished the bestiaries today."
Irma looked up and to Hermione's surprise a genuine smile smoothed the lines of her wrinkled face. "Thank you, dear. You're the best assistant I've had since young Severus left me to pursue a Potions career."
That gave Hermione a start. "Severus used to work here?"
Irma nodded. "Oh yes. He never went home for the short hols, you see. And after his third year he worked for me during that time." She indicated the phial of amber book polish in Hermione's hand. "He created that potion for me when he was in his fifth year." The librarian's sunken cheeks dimpled. "As a birthday present."
Irma's smile faded away. "Of course that way he also gained access to books he should never have seen, much less touched at that young age." The librarian stared off into the distance. "Sometimes I wonder if things had turned out differently, had I not allowed him into the Restricted Section too soon …"
After a moment she shook herself, coming back into the present.
"Tomorrow I will show you different ways of cataloguing the books you cleaned today. Bring parchment and quills."
oooOooo
A/N: The book polish is based on the recipe reputedly used by the British Museum. Diricawls are from "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them". In one of the first drafts "Queenie" was Daphne Greengrass' names - I figured that therefore it is suitable to give it to her mother in this AU.
I hope you liked today's set of chapters!