Author's disclaimer: I played soccer in elementary school. That was years ago. The jargon I know is American. So the British equivalents are researched. As are the teams and such. Soccer/football action will mostly be in the background, so it shouldn't be too jarring. Just assume anything incorrect is an anomaly related to being in a different dimension of reality, and is therefore correct. That said, I have really tried to make it as accurate as possible. (I may have also been influenced by my husband watching Ted Lasso on near repeat when the idea came to me.) Accents are a pain to write, so bear with it. I did not go too thick because that can make it unreadable, and I want it to be a fun seasoning, not the meat of it. For those of you returning, I will be posting on Saturdays unless I have plans. I have somewhere around eight chapters written, and six typed up ready to go. So, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1: Hermione Rage Quits

William Granger liked to think he handled the directional changes life forced on him with dignity and grace. The career ending injury in university before his pro career even began. Their first child being their only child after he contracted chicken pox as an adult. He admitted disappointment that the child was female after that discovery, but vowed to never let that affect his relationship with said offspring. His wife, Moriah, said she understood the brief regret he felt. She thought she would feel the same flicker if Hermione had been a boy. With this vow in mind, he taught her to play football, to be a midfielder following in his footsteps. Sure, she'd needed bribes, like new books, over the years. But so did his mates' kids. The coaches discovered she was a natural, a natural goalie, that was. William continued her fielder training himself, hoping a future coach would see her brilliance there. Then came Hogwarts.

He'd been hoping for Millfields or such. Instead Moriah overrode him. He'd settled for Hermione earning perfect grades and maintaining her training over the school year. She kept up her end of deal, though the coaches kept her in the goal box. But getting her into university and onto a team seemed the bigger concern due to her unconventional education. Until today anyway.

Today, Hermione told them about the wizard war she had been involved in for seven years. "Because of me and my friendship with Harry, you're in grave danger. The Death Eaters plan to torture and kill you. You need to go into hiding."

William sat listening to his wife and daughter. Moriah pleaded with her to come with them, leave everything behind. But he saw that gleam of determination in her eyes. His little girl was a fighter. She would never be able to back down from a fight, or let her friends deal with it alone. He also saw an opportunity. "Okay, pumpkin. We'll take a sabbatical, go on a world tour. Be anywhere but Britain until this is done. You can even do that spell to hide our memories. But when this is over and you're done with school- you have to attend open tryouts. You promise to take them seriously and we'll go, no problems."

Smiling through her tears, "Done. Thank you, Daddy." She flung her arms around them both. Swiftly, they made arrangements for a leave of absence. A friend of Moriah's arranged passports under assumed names after she explained needing to hide from dangerous people. Hermione helped convince him with a little magical nudge. Monica and Wendell Wilkins happily set off to see the world. Hermione set off to save it.

It took two years after that to end Voldemort's reign of terror completely. In that time Hermione finished her education. It took another year to find her parents and bring them home. William worked with her to ensue her skills were where he thought they needed to be. Five years after the war ended Hermione attended open tryouts. Keeping her word to William she took it serious giving it her all. She also followed his request to tryout as a midfielder. Stephan Barton, a youth coach, remembered Hermione well, and William. He suggested someone put Granger in the goal. She performed better than he remembered.

A week later, Hermione sat in her windowless office as the pile of paperwork grew. Her boss an older pudgy man with a sour expression entered without knocking, "Granger, don't forget to have those files finished for me by the end of of the week. And I need you at the press conferences tomorrow and Friday."

She frowned, "You want me to finish fifteen reports, seven more than anyone else? After wasting four hours standing behind you smiling and having my picture taken?"

"You're the brightest witch and all that. You should be able to handle it," Jenkins puffed up indignantly.

"Just because I can, doesn't mean I should have to. I'm tired of you overworking me to make yourself look good. I quit." She stood and collected her one personal item, a photo of Ron, Harry, and herself.

"If you leave without notice no one in this ministry will hire you." blustered Jenkins.

"Not a problem," she sailed out of her office, Jenkins trying to keep up.

"I'll blacklist you everywhere."

"Not an issue," she sang back.

"No one will hire you without a recommendation."

She stopped and he grinned thinking he had won until he saw her face. "First, nine years of rounding up dark wizards and creatures is recommendation enough. Second, you need my good word far more than I will ever need yours. Third, I already have a new job." She twirled and exited the offices and sent a memo to Kingsley detailing her mistreatment in the Department of Creature Control and her resignation. Once home, she sent another to Luna at the Quibbler. She changed clothes and phoned Meadow Park to accept their offer. The team manger, Myles Tobins, scheduled her to come in to do her paperwork.

Two Years Later

Harry Potter examined a giant poster of Hermione staring down the camera. Her crossed arms and slanted profile created a fierce image. He thought she looked as intimidating as she did in her photo as Undesirable Number Two. Women burst from a door further down the hallway. They chatted and joked streaming past him. He looked for his best friend in the crowd. "Harry? What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." He pointed up at the poster, "Found you."

She laughed, "Yeah, nothing like walking past yourself blown up

every day."

"I like it, where can I get one?"

"You can't. They auction them off at the end of the season. Or destroy them."

"So I can get one!" he exclaimed.

She shook her head, "What do you want, Harry, besides a wall size me?"

"Kings told me to come ask you to come by the ministry. Well, you, me, and Ron."

"Did he say why?"

"He did not," replied Harry.

"Curious and alarming. Did he say when?"

"Ron's waiting there now."

"More curious and more alarming. I'm free, so let's go." He followed her out of a side door and to the old shed she used as an apparation point. They reappeared in the atrium of the ministry. She greeted the wizard at the visitor's desk. "Hello, Eric, how are the kids?"

"Doing great, Miss Granger. Thanks for asking." He waved her through. She greeted friends as they made her way to the lifts. Hermione hummed as the ancient cage ascended.

Harry watched her. Her curly hair tamed into a ponytail, dressed in a t-shirt and joggers she looked relaxed. Her scuffed trainers a huge change from her previous sturdy heels. He wondered how many people failed to recognize her. She started doing a little shimmy to her own music. "Nervous?" he asked.

"No why?"

"You're fidgeting," he indicated her little dance.

"Oh, just still a little pumped from work. I'll come down soon. Don't worry about me."

"So long as you're okay."

She laughed, "I'm fine. I'm also actively trying not to think about what might be to come."

"Don't blame you there," he answered, "a little nervous myself." They exited on the minister's floor. His secretary, Eloise, efficiently ushered them in.

"Hermione, Harry, thanks for coming." He embraced Hermione and shook Harry's hand. Hermione also hugged Ron. "Have a seat." Once they were seated he offered refreshments.

"Kingsley Shaklebolt, stop stalling. What's wrong or what do you need?" interrupted Hermione.

"If I was talking to anyone but the three of you I would warn you this is going to sound insane, but,"

"We'll just think it is Wednesday?" suggested Ron.

"Exactly," Kingsley sighed, "here goes. Last week a small coven decided to conduct a ritual to find love. Not just any love, but their perfect soul's match."

"But something went wrong," Harry stated flatly.

"That depends on your perspective, I suppose. They succeeded." He paused.

"But," coaxed Ron.

"They enacted a chain reaction matching everyone in three thousand square kilometers with their soulmates."

"Interesting," remarked Hermione. "I assume we're here because there is more?"

The minister nodded, "The Unspeakables discovered possible complications." She lifted an impatient eyebrow, waiting. "The ritual they used forces the soulmates to bond or they will sicken and die." Before Hermione could explode, he continued, "We have crafted a rejection ritual, but it is expensive."

"Then the ministry pays for it and takes the cost from the coven in fines or community service," said Ron firmly. "No one should be forced to bond with someone they don't want to because of finances." Harry and Hermione swiftly agreed.

"To do that people have to find their soulmates," Kingsley responded.

"And that's where we come in," frowned Harry.

"Yes, the ministry wants to host mixers to get people to mingle. The three of you in attendance will increase people's attendance. We're thinking at least four a week, all different times of day."

"No," Hermione said flatly. "I am busy. I have neither the time nor the interest to be the ministry's show pony. This is not our problem."

Kingsley blinked twice. He never dreamed they would refuse, "But the common people."

She interrupted, "I work in the muggle world. I am the common people. I have commitments. I cannot, and will not, drop everything to tour Britain encouraging people to come gawk at me and find their soulmate. Or research ways to increase your chances to narrow down who it could be. Your underlings used and abused me and you lost me."

"Hermione's right," agreed Ron. "This has nothing to do with us. And we can't waste months going about on tour. We have careers to consider. This would set us back months."

Harry considered the matter, "Hermione said something interesting. Find a way to narrow it down. Publicize what happened. Tell people what their options are and what they need to do. Get someone on narrowing down possible matches to make things more manageable."

"Don't forget to tell them how to recognize their soulmates," added Ron.

"You'll attend smaller events?" asked Kingsley. "Not all of them, but some?"

"Yes, I don't want to die because I passed my soulmate on the street and couldn't find him again," said Hermione.

"And be positive in the press?"

She shrugged, " That depends who asks, what they ask, and how they ask. No promises not to transfigure and squish Skeeter." She paused, "Full disclosure, I've considered lighting her on fire, too."

Kingsley chuckled, "I want to see the memories, and try not to get caught."

"Deal."

He ran a hand through his hair, "I will let you know once we know more. Thank you for staying positive."

Ron laughed, "Easy enough, I suppose. But I'd get that coven into protective custody. The public is not going to be best pleased."

The three friends left together trying to avoid too much attention. "It is kind of nice to not be the center of the trouble," said Harry. Then promptly changed the subject. "When is the first match, Hermione?"

"Three weeks on Saturday. You guys are coming, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it," promised Ron.

"We're bringing Teddy and Victoire," Harry told her.

"Remind him about his hair. He has to pick a color or wear a hat."

"Already bought him a team hat, "Harry assured her, "and your jersey for each of them."

Ron laughed, "Bill says Victoire she tried sleeping in it until

Fleur mentioned it might wrinkle."

"Now it's hanging her closet perfectly pressed?" guessed Hermione.

"Yep."

It took three days for the ministry to collect and publish the news of the ritual and the repercussions. They detailed the signs and asked anyone who found their soulmate to report to the new Department of Ritual Mishaps. They promised to help. She perused the list of signs: lightheadedness, sweet taste in the mouth, roaring in the ears, and an electric shock when touching for the first time or after a long separation. During her morning commute she wondered how much of a spark, like more than shocking yourself on a doorknob?

She moved to Borehamwood six month after starting with Arsenal WFC. She cited the long commute across London, but truthfully she needed away from her father. She felt nine again, every move analyzed and critiqued. Her workout with the team wasn't enough. Nothing ever was. She tried out to keep her promise. She took the job to stick it to Jenkins. She liked the game, loved her teammates. If she was going to keep playing she needed down time. And that meant distance from her father and his armchair coaching. Especially his complaints she wasn't a midfielder for Manchester City. Moriah moped but understood. William still tried to get her to come over after matches. She refused. Baby steps towards boundaries. She choose a townhouse close enough to walk when the weather was nice, and explain her lack of car when she apparated.

"Hermione, incoming!" a long exaggerated cry of her name stopped her. She braced herself for forward Daisy Owen to leap onto her back.

"Must we do this every Friday morning?" she asked dryly.

"Only when I see you first," the blonde laughed dropping to her feet.

"At least you warn a person first."

Daisy rubbed her chin, "After your reaction to the first ambush, I learn to warn you. You, madame, pack a mean right hook."

"I'd apologize, but you ambushed me knowing I served in the military."

"Yeah, my bad," she chuckled.

Any wizard that participated in the war with Riddle could apply to have that converted into military service to explain the missing employment, education, and PTSD. It allowed Hermione to explain where she'd been to her extended family. The offer of lieutenant surprised and delighted her and her parents. The promise of a pension was nice, too. The official explained that defending against a dark wizard protected the Crown, so she deserved full compensation for her service. Harry also applied to annoy the Dursleys with his decorated service.

Together she and Daisy entered the stadium. Defenders, Grace Burton and Marissa Webb swiftly flanked Hermione as they entered the locker room. "Who was that tall drink of water yesterday?" asked Grace as they dressed out.

"And does he have a brother?" Marissa wagged her eyebrows.

"That was my best friend, Harry, and no, he's an only child."

"Oi," fussed Daisy, "I thought I was your best friend."

"Harry and I have been friends since we were eleven. And then we served together."

"Objection withdrawn. He can be your best friend."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Thanks for your permission."

"On to more important issues: is he single?" asked Grace.

"Um, I have no idea. Harry tends to leap in and out of relationships. He's romantically flighty."

"So, more Marissa's type for a good romp?" she teased.

Hermione shrugged, "Probably, he's like my brother, so I try not to think about it."

"Fair. So plans for tonight?" inquired Marissa.

Again, Hermione shrugged, "I considered making a date with my tub, but that seems pathetic."

"Because it is. We are young, fit, and single. We need to be getting out there to mingle." the other woman told her.

A stern voice interrupted, "Perhaps we could be getting out there and start getting warmed up?" Coach Nina Westrook said coming up behind them.

"Yes, coach." The conversation dropped as they finished changing and headed out on the field. Thoughts of dating and parties gone from their minds. Head Coach Gretchen Danvers demanded excellence, but remained fair. So long as you gave it your all. Slackers did not last long. Danvers often told them, "I don't want one or two superstars, I need a team of all stars. Teamwork!" Sometimes she reminded Hermione of Mad-Eye and his constant vigilance."

Dodging invites to pop over to downtown London and hit the town proper, Hermione made her way home. Waiting for her were two messages. One from her mother inviting her to dinner at the club, and one from Harry informing her the twins were throwing a party to get ahead of the ministry and their boring mixers. "I am to pick you up at seven because no one has seen you in ages. No excuses accepted. And Ginny said to add, you need to look cute."

Hermione snorted and considered primping like she was going out with the team. What the hell, why not dress to impress and shock them? It had been some time since the last time any of that lot saw her dressed up. She'd skip cute and go with stunning. She had just the outfit in mind. Daisy convinced her to buy it on a crazy shopping spree. The halter top formed a glittery green, blue, and purple butterfly over the breasts. Chains of rhinestones hung from the animal, revealing and concealing her midriff. Soft buttery black leather trousers and ankle boots completed the look. She pulled her hair half up in an industrial strength banana clip. A good haircut and products that worked with her hair not against it helped tame it immensely. She completed the look with sparkly silver spiral earrings.

Grace taught her advanced makeup techniques, she loved learning them and passing them on. Hermione swiftly perfected the smokey eye. Tonight she added a touch of glitter to her eyelids to dazzle. Before Harry arrived she ate a sensible dinner to avoid drinking on an empty stomach, lesson learned. Drunk Hermione was a sloppy Hermione, and no one liked that. Or, at least, she didn't.