July, 2000
"Muggle Sanctions, Goblin Regulations, Death Eater Amnesty…" Hermione muttered under her breath, shuffling the files strewn all over her desk as she packed up her things at the end of the day. "Andrew?" she called out to her secretary.
"Yes ma'am?" Andrew's head poked into the doorway of her office.
"I'd like a full report from Barnes about his team's results from interrogating the Death Eaters, we need to figure out how careless they were around any Muggles in their recent gatherings and run damage control," she said without looking up, "Can you put pressure on that and get it to me by Thursday?"
Andrew shuffled his feet slightly before answering quickly, "Of course ma'am, I'll get right on that while you're away tomorrow." Hermione knew Barnes wasn't the most fun Auror to deal with but this was important and she didn't have time tonight to hound him herself.
Andrew made as if to leave but hesitated and turned back. "I uh… hope your search goes well tomorrow!" he pushed out, nervously giving an encouraging smile.
Hermione froze, her fingers ceasing their tidying of her desk. Looking up sharply she saw her assistant flinch from her gaze. "Well," she spat out, "You hope it goes… well," her voice dangerously low.
She saw Andrew take a slight step back from her at the venom in her tone and immediately came to, her eyes softening as she sat heavily down in her chair, letting out a weary sigh. "Andrew stop, I'm sorry," she glanced up to see him looking at her with concern evident in his face. "Just… take it easy and thanks for the– the concern," she managed to get out.
After Andrew left with a quiet goodbye she let out another sigh, softly cursing herself for snapping at him when he was just being kind. She covered her face with her hands for a long moment before pushing herself to her feet and grabbing her bag of files to take home. She closed her office door behind her and pointed her wand at it, wordlessly casting a personalised locking charm to prevent any nosy intruders.
"Never can be too safe hey?"
Hermione jumped and spun, her eyes focused on the man standing a few metres away. Arthur Weasley chuckled and beckoned her towards him, "Did you forget about the family dinner? We can floo there together."
Hermione rushed to catch up with him, already walking towards the lifts. "No Arthur sorry, just been a busy day today, what with the capture of Macnair and some of his cronies."
"Yes, I imagine being the most easily reached member of the Golden Trio you've had your hands full with that," Arthur said.
"Ugh you have no idea, the youngest head of a department in over a hundred years and yet I'm worked to the bone," Hermione sighed.
Arthur smiled at her, "You don't leave much to be desired, Hermione, the Ministry is lucky to have you."
The two walked in companionable silence from the lifts to the atrium where they could floo to the Burrow. When Arthur threw in the powder and spoke their destination, he turned to her with a wince, "Fair warning though, Ginny will be there."
Hermione flinched at hearing Ginny's name. What I wouldn't give to skip these every so often, she thought as Arthur's body faded into the green flames. She dismissed the thought of just apparating to her flat immediately; she owed it to the Weasley's for missing the last gathering due to her catching a cold. Squaring her shoulders, she followed after Arthur into the smoky heat before the loud and colourful Weasley household surrounded her.
Almost instantly upon stepping out of the fireplace Hermione barely caught herself from tripping over the unsteady but frantically running form of Teddy Lupin as he scurried away from George's outstretched, tickling hands. He looked up as Teddy rushed by and gave a wave and a grin to her, "Good to see you Hermione!" before finally catching up to his quarry with laughter ensuing.
Her eyes darted around the familiar place with so many familiar faces. It always seemed to be a little too empty to her eyes now. There was no familiar green in the sea of red.
She found a quiet corner to sit and watch the chaotic family greet each other loudly, give pats on backs, and kisses on cheeks. There was one recent, distinct change that she was still getting used to though, a welcome mane of white-gold that swayed over to her in her peripheral.
"Still have handfuls of hay Hermione?" Luna Lovegood whispered airily into her ear as she embraced the older witch.
Luna had been dating Ron for the better part of a year now. Ron had been dating Luna for a few months less than that. It was exactly like this because, as George told an already laughing hysterically family the news, Luna had sauntered into the joke shop as if she owned the place and all but announced to Ron that he had been avoiding her long enough and that if they were going to continue dating he had better hurry up and take her on a date. What proceeded after that was a very confused Ron, looking back at a shrugging and grinning George, being led by the hand by Luna to who-knows-where and only to be seen the next day threatening to hex anybody that asked him anything. Apparently Ron's timeline started then and Luna's seemed to begin a few months before, much to Ron's persistent confusion.
Hermione was happy for them. She really was. It usually took less convincing herself of that anyway. She really couldn't deny how nice it was to have someone other than the Weasley's at these dinners though. Fleur was great and all but she had already been so much like Molly before having Victoire, and Percy and Audrey only occasionally showed up with their kids. Luna provided a much needed calm within the storm that was the Weasley family.
"It's really good to see you Luna- what are you talking about, my hands full of hay?"
"I thought with you being Muggle-born, Hermione, that it would come naturally to you, I know the nargles can be especially cruel to those without a needle though," Luna rambled on, hardly making any sense.
Just then, Hermione could hear Molly greeting Arthur from the kitchen and not long after, dinner was called. She squeezed Luna's hand before sitting down on the other side of Ron from her at the large table. Ron gave her shoulder a friendly bump and a quick grin as she sat down and she managed to respond with a smaller smile of her own, thoughts already beginning to drift to tomorrow.
Bill struck up a conversation about how the goblins had been responding to the Ministry's renewed efforts at equality spearheaded, for the most part, by Hermione and she was thankful for the distraction from her thoughts. Eventually Fleur joined the discussion as well, splitting her focus between the months-old baby in her arms and speaking about Hermione's accomplishments with pride.
Following some months after the Battle, Hermione had returned to Gringotts with Ron in tow to offer their help in rebuilding after their break-in. She had wanted to return the Sword of Gryffindor to them properly to smooth over the parley but no one could find it after the Battle and, after arriving at Gringotts, they found the goblins already possessed the priceless sword and they were surprisingly receptive and friendly towards them. The biggest surprise of all had been that, after some questions, it seemed like Harry had been the one to return the sword to them and repair the wizarding reputation in the goblin's eyes. Hermione had been all panic and questions at the mention of him, begging to know when they had seen him and any other information they had about him. The best she could guess after getting some answers was that he had emptied some of his vault to pay for whatever he was doing or to go wherever he went. There had been no record of a registered Portkey under his name so she assumed he had paid for Muggle transport.
The sudden playful scream of Victoire as she flung an asparagus stalk at George across the table interrupted her thoughts. The table all laughed while George feigned his hurt and stuck his tongue out at the baby.
Hermione caught Ginny's eyes for a brief moment in the laughter before both witches averted their eyes. Ginny had been a sore spot for Hermione ever since the initial week after the Battle, two years ago. It was in her anger at Harry being gone that Ginny would lash out, and that often meant her target was the only person not directly family. The only person to blame for stealing Harry away to go on a camping trip to who-knows-where in the middle of the war when everyone else was fighting so hard and for so long against the horrible Death Eater teachers at Hogwarts. It was one of these outbursts that tore Hermione away from the Burrow, using her savings to buy a small flat for her and Crookshanks away from the Weasley's.
In truth, Hermione didn't hate Ginny, or any of them for that matter. They were family and always would be, they had been mourning Fred after the Battle and partially mourning Harry as well and it hadn't been easy for any of them. But Ginny's constant blame shifting became too much, Hermione was too easy of a target for an emotional punching bag, and so she left. She hadn't seen Ginny after that unless occasionally during a big holiday dinner, and after she finished her seventh year, she had gotten a position for the Holyhead Harpies and the two of them had never resolved anything, leaving an uncomfortable tension behind.
Fortunately for Ginny however, it seemed she had recovered from Harry's absence rather quickly, her name in the tabloids more often than not for some witch or wizard she had begun dating only to break it off with them soon after.
Hermione's attention was pulled back to the table when it erupted in laughter at some joke Charlie had told at Ron's expense, causing his face to light up red as he smiled and shook his head.
"Still jealous of Harry now, Ron?" Ginny spoke without thinking, smirking at her brother.
The table froze and a beat of silence rang out over the family. Nobody spoke as everyone was determined to look anywhere but at Hermione. The sound of blood rushing in her ears drowned out the silence and kept her from returning to reality as the room shifted to resemble the boys dormitory in the Gryffindor tower. Harry's pale, sweaty face stared back at her from his bed. The sheets tangled around his legs and body, his eyes full of fear and something else.
Bill finally broke the awkward silence, "Can you pass the salt over here Geo–"
"Tired. Should get home," Hermione spoke in a stilted manner, pushing her chair back and practically running for the back door.
The sound of the door swinging shut made everyone at the table jump. "I'll go check on her," Ron said, standing up and moving to catch up with Hermione.
She hesitated pulling open the gate when he reached her and he placed a hand on her arm to turn her towards him. She quickly wiped at her face and didn't meet his eyes when she faced him.
"Hermione– you need help, you look like you haven't been sleeping," Ron started, "and don't think I didn't notice how you barely touched your food."
Hermione pushed his hand off her and wrapped her arms around herself, sniffing slightly and turning her head away.
"Hermione. You nee–" Ron tried.
"Don't," Hermione cut him off.
Ron kept going, "You need to let him go."
At his words, she flipped. Her arms flew up and she jabbed her finger into his chest, "Do not say that to me," she spat, "You have your family. You have Luna now! I–" she was crying now. Her throat threatened to choke her off, "I have no one!"
"That's only because you refuse to let anyone in!" Ron yelled back.
She'd been yelling too, she realised, but couldn't seem to stop, "He was all I had, and now–" she faltered for a second, "now he's gone and I can't find him." Her arms slowed and she finally let herself go as she trailed off, sobbing into her hands.
Ron's arms wrapped around her as he pulled her towards him, his hand running up and down her back in large circles. A minute went by before she composed herself enough to step back and look him in the eyes.
"Thanks Ron… sorry I'm such a mess," she said softly. Ron didn't respond as Hermione turned to step past the Burrow's wards and apparated away with a pop.
Ron stood watching the spot where she disappeared from for a long moment. He knew better than to push her too much. More than likely he would just cause her to pull farther away from everyone than she already had. He let out a sigh, running a hand over his face, and trudged back to the house in the dark.
…
Logically, she knew that Ron was right, it had been over two years with no word from him and she had to assume that if he was alive, he must not want to have her in his life at this point. The problem was that her heart couldn't seem to get past it. Every night she awoke, shaking or crying or screaming or sweating from a horrible nightmare that she couldn't get to him in time before he was killed in some way. Every night she tried to tell herself that he's okay and doesn't need her help, that whatever he has been doing is something he needs to do on his own. And every night she lost hours of sleep, fighting to win that mental argument.
As she set her bag down on her kitchen table, Crookshanks jumped up to nuzzle her hand and jolt her thoughts away from the impending night. The contact of his fur caused her to think back to Ron and his attempt at an intervention. She turned on the shower and stepped in as she cursed herself for being so closed off to her best friend for the past two years. The distance spawned from wanting space after leaving the Burrow and an ugly argument a week later had turned into a proper breakup when they both realised that her unwillingness to leave Harry on his own would continue to splinter anything they tried to start romantically.
The warm water served to help soothe her tense muscles as she thought about Ron's attempts to get her to open up more to him months after her move into her own flat. She knew he wanted to help her but she hadn't been able to let this go, not after having most of the past seven years of her life dictated, willingly she would add, to Harry and the war around them. It was like…
Like I've lost my compass needle.
She shut the water off and stood staring at the shower tile in front of her blankly. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and stepped out to get ready for another sleepless night.
"Remind me to ignore the things Luna says to me from now on, Crooks," Hermione spoke to her cat, "she has a knack for figuring things out before I have and speaking in annoying riddles." Crookshanks meowed back knowingly and blinked slowly at her from his perch on the windowsill.
Clambering into bed and settling in, she found her eyes beginning to droop with unexpected drowsiness. She thought vaguely that Ron may have been right to say she needed sleep if her body was betraying her like this. Despite her rather groggy and inactive consciousness, she slipped into her subconscious that was anything but.