Chapter 2: Official Onboarding Officer
"Lead the way, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said, crossing her arms.
"Please call me Ron, we don't care much for formalities here."
"Is everyone on a first-name basis?" She didn't look convinced.
"First name, last name, take your pick, just drop the miss and mister," Ron shrugged and walked out of the kitchenette.
Hermione had to quicken her pace to match his long strides as he guided her to their first destination.
"Yo Weasley, how's the weather up there?"
Three balding men tittered with glee and Ron let out an exasperated sigh.
"Aaaand these one-pun men are in charge of the weather forecast. I usually take the long way around to avoid Benji, Bernie, and Bert, but since it's almost time to clock out - hello gents, meet Miss Granger."
After the three men and Hermione exchanged some pleasantries (and took another look at the whizzing tornadoes), Ron moved on to the next departments, trying to avoid direct contact with his colleagues since Cobbleton had yet to formally introduce Hermione. They almost raced through the seemingly endless throng of busy witches and wizards with Ron throwing funny bits of information about certain colleagues and departments into the tour.
"If you ever crave sweets, Lolly there has a drawer full of chocolates she never fails to share and Arnav - the desk opposite her - is a walking dictionary, which of course, comes in handy since he does the crossword puzzle."
They slowed down and Ron pointed at a large empty desk closest to the publisher's office.
"The fastest way to the loo from your desk is past Dean Thomas there - he holds the Daily Dose of Discussion column," Ron explained, waving at Dean, "but avoid going after lunch. Or after the folks from Seraphina's Simmering Stove. The things they do for that column…"
"I'll remember that," Hermione smiled and Ron was pleased to see her relax a little.
"What is your department?" Hermione asked as they were descending the stairs to have a quick look at Witch Weekly.
"Oh," Ron laughed, "should've started with that, huh? I cover Quidditch International and the wizard's chess page, while Harry does national Quidditch."
"You two were close at Hogwarts too, right?"
"Uhm, yeah. Best mates since we sat together on the train. Developed the same interests too. I can't get rid of the git," Ron laughed, stopping on the last step, and waiting for her to catch up.
He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, "Hold on, you worked for Magic International, didn't you? I remember now, I had a mate who worked there too - he mentioned you."
Hermione passed him and looked around the bustling floor, "Only nice things, I hope. I moved back to London two days ago, actually."
Ballbuster. Yup, that was the word Zack used.
"So, do you know anybody here?"
The answer to Ron's question came in the form of high-pitched squeaking and two pairs of arms that flew around Hermione.
"We knew it was youuu! We heard rumors, and here you really aaare!" The witches drawled, releasing a perplexed Hermione from their embrace.
Hermione smoothed her hair and chuckled at the sight of her two best friends from her time at Hogwarts. They looked almost the same, a little bit older, but still impeccably beautiful.
Regret washed over her since she failed to maintain contact with them, yet they welcomed her with such sincere excitement.
"Sue, Padma, I had no idea you worked here," Hermione said, turning around to find Ron.
He was leaning against the railing, hands shoved into his back pockets and a soft smile hanging from his face.
"Hey, Padma," he said, chewing his lip, and Hermione noticed his gaze lingered on her silky-haired friend a moment longer before he greeted Sue.
"Hey, Ron," the women replied politely and turned their attention back to Hermione.
"We've got so much catching up to do! Come with us for drinks after work!" Padma insisted, pulling Hermione into another hug.
"S-sure," Hermione mumbled and pulled back.
"This is so wicked," Sue interjected, "Meet us at the entrance at five."
"Alright," Hermione replied and the women returned to unboxing their knick-knacks, frantically waving at their freshly returned friend.
"So, is the tour over?" Hermione asked as she approached Ron again.
"Nope. Still need to show you the best spot in the house," he took two stairs at a time and Hermione groaned, hurrying after him.
It was almost the same way she took when she went for coffee, with a slight detour to avoid Benji, Bernie, and Bert, Ron stopped in front of the water cooler.
"It's a muggle watercooler," Hermione said and shot him a questioning look.
"It is a watercooler," Ron smirked, as if it was self-explanatory.
Is he having a go at me?
She is so bloody uptight, it's hilarious.
"The water cooler is a hangout spot in muggle offices and the boss tried to create the same atmosphere. Sadly, around ninety percent of our colleagues still don't get it. He placed it perfectly. Take a look," he pulled her by the shoulders to the spot he occupied a second ago.
"You do seem to know an awful lot about muggles for a pureblood," Hermione said casually, scanning the area from the spot.
Ron stepped aside, his nose scrunched in disgust.
"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention that Sacred Twenty-Eight crap around me."
"I'm sorry, I just meant that -"
"I know what you meant," Ron cut her off, "I just don't like my stupid blood status coming up in conversation. Or anyone else's for that matter."
"Ron, I really am sorry," Hermione bent down and filled two paper cups with water, offering him one with an apologetic smile.
"This really is a good spot. Thank you for sharing it with me," she said, holding up her cup.
"Move along, Dupont," Ron said in an irked voice and Hermione turned around to see a scrawny hunched-over wizard with greasy hair lingering behind her.
"He likes to eavesdrop. Nosy little bugger," Ron said, lifting his cup to hers as the wizard cursed and hobbled away, "Cheers, Granger."
"Hermione."
"Alright. Cheers, Hermione."
He may be a slob, but he's not an idiot.
She isn't all that bad.
They stood there in amicable silence for a few minutes, sipping water, thoroughly engaged in people watching from the most perfect spot.
"Say… Who's that?" Hermione asked, nibbling the rim of her cup, pointing covertly at one particular wizard leaning over Avery's desk.
He's handsome.
"That would be Cormac McLaggen. He's Cobbleton's legal counselor in the whole Witch Weekly mayhem," Ron explained, crumpling up his cup and shooting it in a nearby bin.
And he's a catch.
"You know him?"
"Yeah, he's on my little league Quidditch team," Ron gave her a curious look, "Why do you ask?"
"Just making conversation, I suppose," Hermione shrugged, throwing her cup at the bin, missing it by a mile. Groaning, she flicked her wand and her cup joined Ron's.
"If you say so," Ron quipped, catching Cormac's eye and the two wizards nodded at each other.
Suddenly, Ron's stomach grumbled and Hermione let out a small laugh.
"You sacrificed your lunch for me," She said in a mock-awed voice.
"I take my job as Official Onboarding Officer very seriously," Ron replied as he bounced on his heels in a quick salute.
To Ron's surprise, Hermione let out a little snort of laughter, then quickly covered her mouth with embarrassment. He turned his head, pretending he didn't hear it.
"Anyway, don't worry, I'll eat at the pub in a while. I'll probably see you there too - most of us have drinks at the Leaky after work."
A low vibrating sound took Ron's attention away from Hermione who watched him pull a cell phone from his back pocket, unlock it, and read a text message.
"Yeah, I have a cell," Ron shot, his fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard, "Harry was raised by muggles and all of my friends are either half and half or muggle-born."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it," Ron jested, looking up with a playful smile, "I like a lot of muggle stuff. Honestly, what's there not to like? Muggle music sure as hell beats what wizarding folk consider music."
"I'll agree with you there," Hermione nodded.
The commotion around them somehow slowed down as witches and wizards from various departments began packing their things, chatting over each other on their way out. A number of them passed Ron with a nod, smile, or playful push.
Then Ron's eyes lit up at someone over Hermione's head and a minute later Harry joined them, carrying a backpack and a black leather jacket.
"Did he talk your ears off, Miss Granger?" Harry asked, handing Ron the jacket.
"Call me Hermione and no, he was a very knowledgeable guide," Hermione replied, stepping back to let more people through.
Ron pulled on his jacket, and Hermione was surprised he didn't hit anyone on the head with those long arms in the process.
"Ah, that's my Ron, the knowledgeable friend."
Taking the backpack from Harry, Ron rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione.
"I really do hope you had fun and I guess we'll see you later."
"I did, thank you."
"Ok, let's move, Potter, I'm starving and you're paying," the dynamic duo waved Hermione goodbye and walked to the exit.
"Why am I paying?" Harry's voice rose from the commotion followed by Ron's: "Because you ate my half of the pasta too, you greedy git," and Hermione shook her head before she walked back to Avery's desk.
The Leaky Cauldron had always been a staple in wizarding London. Tom never seemed to age and could remember everyone's favorite drink from the top of his wonky hat, the ornate cherry wood tables and chairs held literal memories as drunk witches and wizards carved profanities as well as the names of their sweethearts into it, and the food and drinks were always top notch - had been for ages.
It was like a second living room to Ron - some of his best memories were tied to the Leaky, and at the age of twenty-eight it seemed reasonable to him for a bloke with no wife or kids to spend as much time as he could with his mates.
Harry and Dean sat to his left, talking animatedly about the new Falmouth Falcons seeker, while Ginny and Luna were sharing the latest gossip. Ron took another chip from his plate and sighed contently when he noticed Hannah and Neville approaching with a fresh round of drinks.
"My wife is losing her touch, lads," Neville sniggered, side-eying Hannah.
"Well honey, carrying a stack of receipts doesn't require the same amount of muscle as carrying pints," Hannah said, dropping down three beer mugs in front of Ron.
"And her view has improved tenfold since she became the Prophet's lead accountant," Ron added, pushing two mugs toward Harry and Dean.
"Isn't her desk close to yours?" Neville asked and Hannah rolled her eyes.
"My point exactly," Ron winked.
The door swung open and three witches pushed their way in through the crowd. Harry elbowed Ron in the ribs and he almost spat out his beer.
"Oi, watch it," Ron muttered, wiping his mouth then followed Harry's head tilt to the door.
Oh, hell. Don't turn into a beetroot. Don't stare. Fucking relax. Deep breaths.
Ginny caught his gaze and wiggled her eyebrows.
"Stop it, Gin."
"Honestly man, just ask her out already," Dean sighed, as all of them shamelessly stared at the three women settling into bar stools.
"You've been pining for ages," Ginny drawled dramatically.
"Let him be, guys. He'll ask when he's ready," Harry interfered decisively, putting a stopper into that particular conversation. The group grunted, grabbed their mugs, and slipped into their usual banter, oblivious to Ron and Harry's silent exchange.
Thanks.
My god, it reeks in here. British pub culture - it will take getting used to. Why is the floor so sticky? It's not even six o'clock! It's so freaking crowded…
"Remember the Leaky, Hermione?" Padma asked, holding her hand, and leading them to the bar, "It's great, isn't it?"
"Sure is," Hermione said, putting in all her best efforts to sound sincere.
They settled into the bar stools and Padma ordered them three butterbeers, She and Sue greeted several people on the other side of the bar and Hermione tried to determine whether she knew any of them. A familiar dark blond wizard raised his hand at the barkeeper and locked eyes with Hermione a second later. He gave her a cocky smile as he took the drinks.
"Enjoying the view?" Sue teased, jolting Hermione from her stupor.
"I-I think I saw him at the Prophet today," Hermione murmured, taking a large swig of her butterbeer.
"Oh, he's our favorite eye-candy nowadays. The full package - that one," Sue giggled.
"You two talking about McLaggen?" Padma asked, raising a brow.
"I think Hermione likes him too," Sue baited.
"Well, I can't deny that he's handsome - tall, blond, perfect teeth…"
Not to mention, Mum would relocate to cloud nine if I brought him home.
"Successful suit and tie kind of guy," Sue added with a smirk.
"You two are terrible," Padma laughed, pushing her long hair back.
"Who knows, maybe our Hermione will be the one to reel McLaggen in. Miss editor-in-chief," Sue raised her eyebrows suggestively, but Hermione didn't hear her.
A familiar redhead stood out from the crowd, stealing glances at her friend and an idea popped into Hermione's head.
Well, Mr. Official Onboarding Officer, I think you might be in for a promotion.
