Disclaimer: Everything here belongs to our leader and queen, JKR.
Notes: Thanks so much to everyone for their reviews!
The government solution to a problem is usually as bad as the problem.
Milton Freidman
To say Hermione was furious was an understatement. She had no qualms with working hard, and was more than willing to stay back now that Sullivan had finally given them proper work to be getting along with. But for him to not reveal the purpose of the research was plainly insulting. Not to mention counter-productive and completely illogical.
Arriving on the Third Floor that morning Hermione had been astounded at the flurry of activity. Amidst the hub of lime green robes were a number of those she assumed were Ministry personnel, as well as a younger group of possible research assistants. Obviously Sullivan had received the extra manpower he'd asked for.
The Healer in question was striding around, clutching a crumpled wad of notes and issuing orders to the congregating mass. Above the confined crowd, a pod of whirling paper memos had commandeered the corridors high-ceilinged airspace.
Lucy, situated to the side of the group, had beckoned her over.
"What do you make of this lot then?" She asked, attempting to elude Sullivan's notice. Hermione glanced dubiously at the ruckus, not entirely sure what to make of it.
"Have they told us what's happening? Some sort of crisis or outbreak?" Hermione asked, curiosity mounting.
"Not a word. Sullivan's making a right mess of it, and the Ministry officials are tight-lipped as anything." Lucy smirked. At least someone was gaining enjoyment out of this.
Hermione eyed the Ministry officials. Lucy was right. They were grim-faced and seemed to serve little purpose in the proceedings. So they're just here to observe. Hm.
This was definitely no standard outbreak then.
Charging through the ruckus, Hermione made her way to the front where Sullivan was looking more and more harassed.
"Healer Sullivan, what's happening? What's all of this about?" she asked, firmly but politely.
Sullivan's usually arrogant demeanour was shattered by her arrival. He stammered something unintelligible whilst glancing not so furtively at the Ministry Wizards, all of who were now staring at Hermione.
Hermione only folded her arms and waited.
Two Ministry officials pulled the still stuttering Healer aside, and the three Wizards argued quietly. She didn't recognize the tall dark haired wizard who towered over Sullivan, nor the shorter, stouter one who had been far too busy nodding to add anything to the hushed conversation.
Perhaps they'll let me know what's going on, seeing as I'm part of the Golden Trio and all that, she mused.
They hadn't.
Hermione had spent the next eight hours correlating the results of 17 different interns. When she had asked what patterns to look out for, the tight-lipped ministry official had all but glared at her. Sullivan, attempting a breezy tone, had answered "Anything that catches your eye."
Idiots.
Hermione had absolutely no idea what she was looking for, and only had the typical pressing urge to find something, to excel at her given task. Her mind was whirling through the ingredients and methods being tested.
Six of the interns had been noting the effects of Agrippa, Faerie wings and Nightshade (Solanaceae), when prepared in different methods, while another eight had been integrating the bases of a Colour Changing Ink draught with a blood analysis potion. The Combination of potions made no sense to Hermione, while Agrippa Faerie wings and Nightshade were all key ingredients in completely different potions. Admittedly she recognised that modified Girding Potions were used illegally during the 1700's as a magical contraceptive, only because they were mentioned in Hogwarts a History as being banned from the Curriculum. Similarly, she remembered noting an immense collection of Nightshade that had been stashed in the Room of Hidden things. Again their use as a primitive post-coital contraceptive was outlawed in both St Mungo's and the Hogwarts infirmary. It clearly hadn't stopped several generations of desperate teenagers though. But the uses of Agrippa were utterly unknown to her. Hermione's brow was crinkled as she tried to remember anything about the plant, but as far as she knew it had never been so much as mentioned in her Hogwarts educations. Well apart from Cornellius Agrippa, who's published work on the purity and superior moral character of woman had sat just feet away from her favourite spot in the library. Having lived in a common room with Lavender Brown, Hermione had only scoffed at the title and never got around to reading it. A decision she was regretting now.
On the other side of the lab, Lucy was playing the role of assistant-cum-potion's instructor while the remaining three interns huddled over what Hermione assumed was a basic Fertility Solution.
Glancing at the clock that marked 6.30, Hermione realized the busy pace of the lab around her showed no signs of stopping. The interns were still crowded over their respective stations, and two Ministry officials still stood station by the door.
Returning her focus to the notes spread all over her desk, Hermione did her best to spot a pattern in the day's results. If she assumed from the notes on the Fertility Solution and the observations made on the Agrippa, Faerie wings and Nightshade, that the purpose of today's research was to pinpoint the similarities and differences of core ingredients, then she could highlight a few core trends. This did mean however, that the works pertaining to the Blood Analysis Potion and Colour Changing Ink were a completely independent experiment.
Which makes no sense.
Hermione nearly growled at the parchment in front of her. What on earth could this be used for? In a hospital nonetheless! The patient charts in St Mungo's were all written in standard grade 4 ink and any significant blood work changes were magically communicated with their Healer and nursing staff. Ink that changed colour according to a particular blood work change was a step backwards in efficiency, and all in all Hermione reasoned it was a waste of time and resources.
That said, attempting to improve a fertility potion by researching contraceptives made even less sense. Not all core ingredients had polar opposites, and even if they did, the reversal of a contraceptive wouldn't necessarily increase the subject's fertility. It's far more likely it would simply build up their resistance to the use of contraceptives, which had absolutely no medical value whatsoever.
Biting the end of her quill, Hermione wondered if there was any point in including this in her summary. The ministry obviously didn't want the purpose of this research known. But to purposefully omit her observations made her feel as though her contributions were sub-par. No. It wouldn't do. Mustering her Gryffindor bravery, she pushed through her unshakable cynicism and jotted down her deductions. Perhaps if she had hope in the Ministry, or at least St Mungo's, she would be rewarded.
Sighing once more, she tried to avoid looking towards the clock as she rose and gathered her notes. Perhaps if she were very, very lucky and left now, Molly wouldn't kill her on sight.
Hermione arrived in the gleaming kitchen, apologies already on her tongue. Raising her hands and about to launch into how sorry she was, Hermione was shocked to find the kitchen completely empty. The table was spotlessly set and the pots and pans still hovered on the stove under a status charm.
It looks like they've been interrupted.
Note: Would we call that a cliff-hanger? Maybe a slight hill hanger. Barely a steep incline really. Hahahaha, don't hate me and please review!
