AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
Hermione's first act as Minister of Magic would be to outlaw high heels. After spending the wedding reception standing in them, and another day with seniors in ones even less comfortable than those of the previous day, she needed a good foot massage. A hot bath would not hurt either. Her mouth salivated at the idea of a relaxing in bathtub with jets which could serve as foot massagers, the warm water expelling the stress from the last few months. Yes, the more foot massages she could obtain, the better. What she wouldn't give for a day where she laid in a bathtub full of rose petals, Ron rubbing her aching feet as she sighed her problems away.
Instead, when she returned home, she found the parts of a crumpled suit strewn across the floor. She furrowed her eyebrows. Last night, she had told Ron to fold his suit so he could wear it to the campaign event next Wednesday. Now, it would take forever to get the wrinkles out of the fabric. Just another chore she had little time for.
She kicked off her high heels and strode through the kitchen towards the sitting room. Ron was sprawled across the sofa, an old Quidditch game crackling over the airwaves. Hermione knew this game well. The Chudley Cannons lost by only one point, yet if you asked their fans it was their greatest victory in ages. Hermione would never understand the mentality of a Chudley Cannons fan, nor was she sure she wanted to.
"'Mione," Ron sat up, spilling the bowl of tortilla chips which had been on his stomach onto the couch and floor. "You're late."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, it's seven o'clock, right when I said I'd be home," She argued.
"It is?" Ron turned to the clock before stuffing another handful of chips into his mouth.
"Yes," she folded her arms over her chest.
"Damn, I have to be out with the other aurors in a half hour." He sat up straighter.
"Other aurors?" Hermione tilted her head.
"Yeah, we're having a party tonight to celebrate Savage being on the force for twenty years."
"What about your supposed illness, the one you called in about this morning? Won't people be suspicious that you're well after taking the day off because you could hardly stand?"
"I'll just tell them I feel better and didn't want to let my friend down."
She muttered, "More like you want free beer."
Ron wiped the chip crumbs from his lap.
"Do you know what was hidden amidst today's Daily Prophet?" Hermione tapped her foot on the ground.
"No."
"You belching in Rita Skeeter's face."
Ron burst out laughing. "That was funny, wasn't it?"
"Funny?" She snapped.
"Yes," he caught his breath. "I'll bet Malfoy's face will be red when he reads that. I'd love to see it. Perhaps Ginny will show me the memory."
"I doubt Draco paid any attention to today's paper. If anything, he rolled his eyes and moved on with his honeymoon."
"Sure," Ron smirked. "He's pissed about the burp, and he knows it."
"Draco rolling his eyes isn't worth the possibility to tanking my career."
"What?" He tilted his head.
"Right now, people are focusing on Draco and Ginny's soul bond, but that won't last. Eventually they'll start looking more into who was at the wedding and how they behaved. Merlin knows Cormac and Kingsley have seen the article, and they won't hesitate to use it against us should the opportunity arise."
"I thought you said they were running a clean campaign."
"For now yes, but it may not always be that way."
"Look, people don't like Rita Skeeter," Ron chuckled. "They're probably looking for someone to belch in her face. People like Malfoy even less. They'll probably think they both deserved it."
"It was still rude, uncouth, and inappropriate for the occasion."
"Isn't that what you want, someone who is all those things?"
Her mouth hung open.
"Think about how people will perceive me. They'll see me as the fiancé who doesn't play by the rules, the one who will defend the common people should the need arise," Ron answered.
"They want the Minister's fiancé to have some class."
"Do they want that, or do you?"
She blinked before twisting her foot into the ground.
"'Mione," he put a hand on her shoulder. "You've been listening to Parvati and Demelza too much. They have you all worked up over nothing. It's just a belch. If Malfoy doesn't care nobody else will either."
"This may be nothing, but if you continue drinking, then you may stumble your way into a scandal, one I can't easily clean up," she warned. "That scandal could ruin any chance I have of becoming Minister of Magic."
"Relax, I'm not going to cause a scandal," He gave her a grin which years ago had been cute, but now made her stomach constrict. "In fact, I can help your political career tonight by inviting you to Savage's party."
She hummed. The auror vote was important. Right now, they were loyal to Kingsley because he was one of their own, and he increased funding for them. Still, if she showed up to enough events she could persuade some of them to give her a chance.
"What do you say?" Ron held out his hand. "Why don't you go to the party with me so we can show them what a real power couple looks like?"
"Change into something nicer, more professional, and we have a deal," she took his hand and squeezed it.
"Good," he released her and began to walk away.
"Oh, and pick up your suit from last night," she called. "It needs to look nice for Wednesday."
"I would, but I don't know how to hang it properly."
"It isn't hard."
"I know, but it'll be easier for you to do it."
"Probably," she shook her head and reminded herself that though Ron wasn't perfect, he was the closest she would ever have to a soulmate.
In the end, that's all that mattered.
Severus took another sip of tea as he read the last paragraph of the Evening Prophet. Most nights, he forwent reading the paper. Tonight, he wanted to take pleasure in Draco and Ginevra's joy. With so little happiness in the world, it was pleasant to see two people glow around each other, to see their eyes light up when meeting the other's eyes.
When Draco first announced that he was soul bound to Ginny, Severus thought he'd gone round the bend. Soul bonds were so rare Severus did not believe they existed. Once it was confirmed that Draco was in fact soul bonded to Ginny, Severus wondered how long it would take Lucius to go round the bend. Not long actually. It was difficult to count how many times Lucius threatened to disinherit Draco if he married that "Weasley spawn." Had it not been for Narcissa's calming influence, he may have done so. With a little help for her, Draco and Ginny prevailed and Lucius gave them his blessing through gritted teeth.
"Do you think this soul bond thing is real?"
Severus licked his lower lip. It was puzzling why Granger of all people would ask him such a question. As if he'd know or care about soul bonds! While Draco believed his soul bond with Ginevra was sacred, Severus thought one would be more of a pain than it was worth. Coming home to another person, cleaning up after her, listening to her prattle on about something he cared nothing for didn't interest him in the slightest. Being single meant he had quiet quarters, he had more time to engage in his projects without interruption, and he could read without interruption, which is just the way he liked it.
"Do you think everyone could have a soul bond?" She asked. "Or is it just for certain people?"
Severus snorted. Why Granger would ask him these questions was beyond him. Did she think a misanthrope like him knew anything about soul bonds, or would have a soul bonded partner? Such a thought was ridiculous.
No, he was happy in his solitude, spending his evenings in quiet, going to bed as early or as late as he desired, and never worrying about another person clogging his bathroom with toiletries. His abode was his silent paradise, just as he liked it.
With a smile, he readied himself for bed, all thoughts of soul bonds discarded.
Coming here was a mistake.
The music was blaring in Hermione's ears as the aurors laughed amongst each other. She'd already spoken to each of them at least twice. Every conversation was superficial at best, pointless at worst. Granted, nobody at a party wanted to hear about the pros and cons of increasing funding for literacy programs, nor did they want to hear about repairing Wizarding Britain's infrastructure. Still, it would be lovely if one of them could take a passing interest in her life, see her as a person, want to know the woman waving at the camera on a more personal level.
Was being seen and heard too much to ask?
Across the room, Kingsley laughed while Savage beamed. He put his hand on the other man's shoulder and replied to a comment. Once again, the pair laughed.
Hermione took a deep breath. She was tired of being alone at every party. No matter how big the crowd and how joyous the atmosphere she was always alone, wondering why everyone had an easier time making friends than she did.
Ron stumbled in front of her, his conversation with Dawlish more animated than it should be. They were not arguing, rather exchanging stories Hermione couldn't hope to follow. Judging from some of the language they were using, it was best she know nothing about these occasions.
For a few moments she watched them, waiting for her time to get his attention. Once the conversation lulled, she strolled over to Ron and tapped him on the shoulder.
"What?" He snapped.
"I'm ready to go home," she announced.
"Oh c'mon 'Mione, can't you enjoy the party and have a little fun," he slurred before pointing to the table. "Have another cup of punch. It'll loosen you up."
"I've had two glasses of punch," she argued. "That's more than enough for me."
"Only two glasses of punch?" Dawlish burst out laughing. "You are a lightweight if that's all you want."
"No, I just like keeping my sensibilities," she argued. "Being drunk makes you an obnoxious jerk, which I don't want to be."
"What are you saying?" Ron asked in a low voice, his face becoming red from more than just the alcohol.
"It means I'm ready to go home," she retorted.
"Then go home."
"I don't want to be alone."
"Then stay at the party because I'm not leaving."
Hermione opened her mouth, only to see Kingsley from across the room, eying her. The aurors beside him had calculating looks in their eyes, waiting for the moment Kingsley ordered them to tell the media about this spat.
"Tell everyone I apologize for leaving early. I don't feel well enough to stay," Hermione muttered.
"I will," Ron smirked before crashing his lips into hers.
Hermione suppressed the urge to gag. She hated it when he kissed her while drunk. His kisses were always too forceful, too sloppy, and too suffocating.
Once she broke away she forced herself to grin, gave her fiance a peck on the cheek, and apparated home. Once there, she took a deep breath, finding the silence a comfort. With a sigh, she change into her black nightgown, laid on her bed, and began to read.
When Ron did not show up by eleven, she gave up on waiting up for him. After putting the book on her nightstand, she stared at the ceiling, reminding herself of the ultimate goal, the day her life would improve, the day which made evenings like this worth it.
When she became Minister of Magic, she would no longer be an under appreciated cog in the Ministry. Wizarding Britain would conform to a better, more liberal standard. After becoming Minister of Magic, she could stop focusing so much on her appearance, at least until the next election cycle. Once she got settled into the role of Minister for Magic, she could marry Ron, and he would become a real husband. He would realize all eyes were on him, and adjust his behavior accordingly. If she was lucky, he'd never touch a beer again. She could only hope.
She closed her eyes, with one though replaying in her mind.
Everything will be perfect once I become Minister of Magic.