Chapter two: Lights

To be perfectly honest, Hermione had to admit to herself that the following sequence of events had NOT transpired the way she had wanted them to. Astoria Greengrass, Draco's girlfriend, (and the only reason he'd even been there.) had waltzed up, and Draco had sneered, dropping Hermione flat on her bum. She had squealed, and Draco simply looked at Astoria, and said, "Oh, there you are, darling. I'm sorry, my hands seem to have gotten a bit filthy." Astoria quirked an eyebrow, looking down at where Hermione sat on the floor, her conservative blue dress splayed out over her legs. People stepped upon it as they walked by. To her astonishment, Ron hadn't been there to pick her up. She had no idea where he'd gotten off to, but she'd worry about that later. I'm going home. She thought, pulling herself to her feet as Malfoy and Astoria walked away, arm in arm. Turning on the spot, she disapparated home.

She ended up in the living room, overshooting the rug she meant to land on by a few centimeters. Instead, she stumbled from where she landed next to the coffee table, smashing her knee into the corner, and giving a great yelp before crashing to the floor. Hermione sat in embarrassed silence, despite there being no one there to have witnessed her moment of gracelessness. Stubbornly refusing to sit up, she rolled over onto her back, folding her hands in front of her stomach, and gazing at the ceiling, as if it held all of the answers she needed to hear. Why him? She thought to herself, bringing her hands up to press her palms to her closed eyelids. She could feel a migraine coming on. And it had a name. Draco Malfoy. The boy had tortured her at school. She had often been the victim of his cruel and incessant bullying. But for some ridiculous reason, she'd had quite a crush on him. Despite the name calling, meddling, and even turning out to be a Death Eater, she had always thought that there may be some good in him. That maybe he was just misunderstood, or playing a part for his family's safety during the war. HAH. She sniffed. It was enough to give someone a headache.

At least she'd grown out of that ridiculous crush. As if she would ever want to be with someone who could so easily insult her heritage, and her intelligence. If there was one thing Hermione Jean Granger did not take lying down, it was insulting her intelligence. She worked far too hard, and was far too smart to be called something as awful as a "Stupid Mudblood." She shuddered as she thought the word in Malfoy's voice. She looked down at her forearm, cringing as she ran her fingertip along the moon-pale letters permanently scarred into her skin. A gift. From Draco's precious "Auntie." She let out a long sigh, flinging her hand back, letting it hit the carpeted floor, and bounce back up before settling. And that was where Ron found her three hours later.

"You know," He said, standing in the doorway. "You could have at least told me you were leaving. I looked everywhere for you." Folding his arms, he leaned across the wooden door frame.

"I can't do this anymore." Hermione whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I can't do this anymore, Ron." The youngest Weasley boy moved to her side, and knelt down next to her, a confused expression on his face. He moved to catch one of Hermione's curls off of the carpet, but she swatted his hand away.

"Do what exactly?" Ron sighed, sitting back and pulling his knees up to rest his wrists upon them.

"This." Hermione answered. "Us." She paused, turning her head to look at him. His expression was unreadable, and her heart sank. "It's not..right anymore. Something has been lost and I don't think we're going to get it back. I don't want us to go on pretending anymore. It's only hurting us both." She watched as Ron stood and turned his back to her.

"I know." He said softly. "But I don't want to lose you. We tried, right? We can't say we didn't." Hermione sat up as he turned to look at her, and suddenly felt very cold. And empty. As if the room were full of Dementors. She rubbed her arms with her hands.

"Yes, we tried." She answered finally. "I just can't go on playing as though everything is right, when it's not. And I know you feel the same." Ron hesitated for a moment, but nodded.

"You're still my best friend, 'Mione." He whispered softly after a moment, holding his arms out to her. She ran to them, burying her head against his chest. "Always." He held her for what seemed like an eternity of silence, but actually only lasted a few minutes. She backed away slowly after a bit, wiping away a traitor of a tear with the palm of her hand. "Bloody hell." Ron said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, and looking at the clock. "I'm going to give you some time to yourself before I fully move out. I'm going to grab some things and stay with George. He won't ask too many questions, and I'm not ready to tell mum yet. She'll question me 'til the cows come home, she will," Hermione smiled slightly at the Muggle expression. "And I'll never get any sleep." Ron wrapped his arms around her once more. "I'll Apparate from the room so we don't have to do this again." Hermione arched an eyebrow. That was rather considerate of him. Maybe he had changed significantly since they were in school. "See you. If you need me, don't hesitate to Floo or Apparate to the shop. Make sure you go upstairs so you don't end up landing on top of a customer." He smiled, and released her, running his hand through her curls, and back to cup her face as he kissed her forehead softly. "'Bye 'Mione." He whispered, walking back to their room to pack up his stuff.

Hermione sunk down to the floor, picking at a piece of carpeting until she heard the tell-tale -Crack!- that signaled his departure. Only then did she allow herself to dissolve into tears, her face buried in her arms, her crumpled form heaving with sobs. It wasn't so bad that he had agreed to it. It was the fact that he hadn't seemed bothered at all.

A few hours later found her in the kitchen with a cup of tea, dressed to go to work. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair was a mess (nothing new, she supposed.), and her head ached with fatigue from crying. She looked at the clock, and dumped out the tea, Scourgifying the cup before putting it back in the cupboard. She lingered with her head resting against the door of the cupboard for a moment, before turning around and heading for the fireplace. She grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, and as the flames roared green, she shouted, "Ministry of Magic!" And disappeared.

"Morning, Hermione!" Someone shouted to her as she exited the Floo in the Ministry. "Good morning, Miss Granger!" Hermione nodded to these people, and made her way as quickly as she could to her office. She flung open the door, and collapsed into her chair at her desk. More than anything, she really did not want to be at work today. But it was better than moping around the house. She picked up the stack of papers in her inbox, and started reading through the new case that had been left on her desk. It was a property case. A rare artifact that belonged to a very old- very rich family. The family had been receiving threatening messages, and their house had been vandalized by someone looking for the object. A time-turner had been acquired, and the object had been hidden in the past by the youngest member of the family at the time. She read the name, and her heart both skipped a beat, and sank to her feet. Malfoy. It seemed that Lucius' great grandfather had hidden an object of great power somewhere, and now they needed to find it. Scrawled in the margin of the parchment was simply the word, "Lights."

She picked up the case file, and headed for the door, wanting to talk to her superior about it. There was no way she could accept this case. She had to tell Ellen that she simply couldn't do it. Hermione knocked twice on the door, opening it when a voice from inside called, "Come in!" She froze as she saw Ellen sitting at her desk, and opposite from her was Draco Malfoy, sitting next to a beautiful blond woman that Hermione immediately recognized as his mother, Narcissa. Draco turned to look at her as she came in the door, his face curled up into a sneer. She looked away from his condescending gaze, and drew in a deep breath before speaking.

"Ellen, I can't take this case." She said, resolutely. "I regret to say, I cannot work with the Malfoy family on this." Ellen frowned, nervously biting her fingernails. "Beside, they wouldn't want me to work this anyways. They obviously will want a pureblood to help them." Ellen looked at Hermione beseechingly, her palms held up in complacency.

"If you absolutely can't take this case, I suppose we'll have to find someone else.. But the Malfoy family requested you specifically." She offered. Narcissa turned around, and looked at Hermione. Her face was so different. So much more relaxed. She looked as though a severe weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she seemed more at ease than Hermione had ever seen her. The woman reached up to stroke Draco's hair softly, before speaking.

"Miss Granger, I know that you do not have any great fondness for my family. I know how Draco treated you while you were at school, and I know that my sister- my sister-" She seemed at a loss for words.

"Tortured me? And then carved this into my arm?" She yanked up her sleeve to reveal the pale word against her slightly tanned skin. Narcissa flinched, and Draco looked away entirely. Ellen's eyebrow shot up. Taking in Hermione's narrowed eyes, and the Malfoys' uncomfortable expressions, she decided it best to diffuse the situation.

"Well, then! You don't have to decide right now! I'll just finish up with them here, and you can give me your answer by the end of the week!" She waved her wand, and Hermione was shoved out of the room, and the door slammed shut behind her.

She could no longer hear anyone speaking beyond the door, and assumed that Ellen had put a Muffliato spell on the door. She glared reproachfully at the door for a moment before making her way back to her office, and sitting down. Hermione shuffled angrily through the rest of her papers on her desk, making little notes about things.

Why didn't I just go into Law like Scrimgeour said? She thought back to the moment when Rufus Scrimgeour, former Minister of Magic had suggested that she go into Wizarding Law.

Oh right, because I wanted to do some good in the world.

Hermione picked up the case file again, tossing her curly hair back over her shoulder. She had to admit her curiosity had been piqued. "Lights." She said it out loud, hoping that it would trigger something. What in Merlin's name could that mean? Unless...

She began tossing things aside, looking for a book. She stood up, running her fingers along the spines of all the books, until she came to an encyclopoedia. Ah, yes. Here it is. She scanned through the first few pages, until she found what she was looking for. Slamming the book down on her desk with a triumphant expression, she giggled with excitement. Looking down at the page, she read it out loud.

Aurora Borealis- The Northern Lights.