A/N: Hellooo lovely readers! I don't own HP, as always. The song that represents this chapter (ish) is one of my favorites, so I highly recommend giving it a listen. This chapter is a bit different from the others... I'll explain at the end. Enjoy!
CHAPTER 8 - "Quarter-Life Crisis" by Taylor Bickett"RONALD!" The red-head bloke jumped, turning to see his best mate striding towards him down the ministry hallway.
"Yeah, Harry?" He mumbled.
"How are you late - again? We need to go; the trial starts in five minutes. C'mon," the pair raced to the elevators, hurting to the court rooms. The previous week, they'd been on a mission and brought in two suspects. Today, Thursday before Harry's birthday, was the trial for the first suspect. The other had already been deemed useless from interrogations held earlier.
Ron entered the hall surprised to find his ex-wife standing at the podium talking to the Wizengamot judge presiding today. The suspect, Roger Harpy, was already seated in the chair in the center of the room (now without chains binding him, although there was plenty of magic around to keep him from escaping).
The two men had barely taken their seats on the witness's bench when the trial began. After running through the usual proceedings, Hermione's boss - a smart, strict Indian woman named Christina, stepped forward and began questioning Harpy. All the while, the brunette witch sat at the bench on the raised platform and scribbled down notes, presumably finding examples and alternate data to help her boss win this case. Ron still didn't understand why the bright witch hadn't led any cases yet. It certainly couldn't have anything to do with her ability.
"Next witness, auror Ronald Weasley," The judge called out. Ron stood up and answered each question Christina and Harpy's lawyer threw at him. He'd been here enough to know what to say. He barely had to think anymore, after six years of being questioned in court by lawyers determined to win the case. Harry always told him, "answer honestly and clearly and it'll all go smoothly." Ron had no doubt his friend was correct.
Hermione Granger watched her ex-husband answer Harpy's horrible lawyer - Smith, who she'd dealt with before - threw at him with ease. It was amazing just how far the red-head had come.
Christina looked at her and she quickly passed the parchment she had been writing notes on. Well, 'notes' really wasn't the best term. Rather, they were ideas of what Christina could say, past court cases she had read till her eyes had bled, and any other tidbits of information that could get this guy to Azkaban, where he belonged.
When the recess was finally called for the jury to discuss and the judge to make his decision, Hermioen found herself looking at the witness' box again. She missed Ron. How could she not? She missed all the Weasleys. The witch hadn't seen any of them beside Ginny in some time. Mrs. Weasley had felt like her mother until the past June. over a year ago, the young woman realized with a start. She had been working so hard she had barely taken notice of the anniversary of her leaving Ron.
It had been the right choice. She knew that. She had been crumbling, alone and lost in a world not built to support her. And the one person who she should have been able to rely on was completely oblivious, as usual.
Hermiine shook her head, returning to the present, where Christina was rambling on about the case, debating whether they would win. The brunette heroine did her best to follow along and respond.
The jury came back, as did the judge, and Harpy was sentenced to three years in Azkaban plus two years probation and 200 community service hours for each of those years for attempting to curse crucio on an unsuspecting muggleborn and carving the Dark Mark into said victim's arm. Horrific. If you asked Hermione, the man should have been sentenced far longer, but the world was still a bit unjust, she supposed.
Hours later, Ron was still fuming. "How did that bloody bastard get away with so little punishment?" He almost yelled at Harry as they walked to a nearby deli for lunch. "He was a bloody brute, I tell you. Three years and probation, I tell you! Ridiculous…" He lowered his voice as they entered the deli and took up a table by the window. "Honestly."
Harry burst out laughing and Ron shot him an absolutely incredulous look. "What?"
"Nothing. You just- you sound exactly like Hermione." Harry laughed, browning the menu.
The redhead couldn't help it; he began to remember all he had lost a year ago. How would he ever truly move on when they worked so closely, lived in the same town, had the same friends? It was impossible. And of course he sounded like Hermione! They had been married for three years, and been best friends for seven years before that. Spending a decade with someone tends to mean you pick up a few of their traits. And, anyway, it wasn't like she hadn't started doing things his way. Like, she would… she would. God! There must be something. She would scratch her neck when she was nervous! Although, that had only really been in their teen years. She watched her money closely. But, then again, that was a typical thing for people in their early twenties - especially overly responsible people like Hermione. And, godammit, Ron had a girlfriend! He shouldn't be thinking so much about ex-wife, for fuck's sake.
Hermione stared at the clock. She had been at the office since just past six that morning, preparing for Harpy's trial. The witch couldn't believe she had forgotten about it. All of her focus had been on the Malfoy-Greengrass trial as well as coordinating a birthday party for Harry that Friday night. This was particularly difficult since Hermione couldn't exactly reach out to most of the people Harry spent time with. She felt bad for leaving the relatively new mum to do all the work. As a result, Hermione had spent hours collecting decorations, searching for the perfect gift, and generally planning the best party she'd ever thrown. She'd even sent a letter to George, asking him for party supplies and a few other odds and ends.
The knock on her door startled her, and her, "come in" was far from enthusiastic. The brunette looked up to see her boss entering, tailing Kingsly. She quickly sat up straighter, attempting to look professional.
"Minister. What can I do for you?" She smiled, shuffling the parchment in front of her.
"Hermione, please, how many do I have to ask you to call me Kingsly? And I'm actually here on Christina's request." The wizard motioned to the woman beside him. Christina looked as serious as ever. It was ironic she always looked so harsh, considering how kind and sweet she truly was.
"I have been reviewing your current cases and am thinking of doing some reassigning," Christina said, taking a seat opposite Hermione. The young witch swallowed.
"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked, wishing her voice didn't sound so nervous.
"Yes, yes. Don't worry - no one's in any trouble. I've simply been looking over the team's workload and noticed that you have worked on more cases since you've been here than others who have been here thrice as long. And, your notes have been excellent. Yet, you are only now working on your first individual case. Why?"
The war heroine stared at her superior. She wasn't usually dumbstruck, but this seemed like an obvious question. And why was Kingsly here for such a simple conversation. "This is the first case that has been offered to me as a lead."
"Yet, you are a war heroine who scored extraordinarily high on her N.E.W.T.s and has done an exceptional job while working here. Not to mention, you have been writing a book, correct?" The Indian woman tugged at her long braid. "You're a little underpaid and underappreciated for your services, don't you think?"
"I… I appreciate your praise, Christina," Hermione made sure her voice was strong, "and I wouldn't exactly argue. With that said, I do love my job. I see such interesting cases and I believe I am truly making a change and righting the wrongs in our world."
"Hermione," Kingsley spoke up, leaning forward. "I think you are misunderstanding us. We want to give you an official promotion."
The witch blinked. "Thank you. I'm honored," Hermione smiled her fist genuine smile that day. "But… why?"
"Why? Don't you see? Your work is exemplary, yet you are paid like a lowly employee." Christia explained.
"Again, I appreciate this - more than I can say. However… Why now? I've been working this hard since I started here. Is this some way to put a war heroine higher in the ministry? Because, I assure you, nothing I am doing or have ever done was for attention or praise. I simply want to help."
"No. Absolutely not, that's not what this is about. Hermione, you have such potential. The notes you gave me in this morning's trial… you should have been the one up there, questioning the witnesses. You should have led that. Istead, you are spending hours working on a civil case. We are telling you that if criminal law is what you want to do - and we encourage you to keep along that path and will help you wherever we can - we are offering you a job in which you can pursue it. We are offering you to work at my level. For most, this is still years away. We are giving you a special opportunity."
The minister must have noted the surprise on Hermione's face because he stood, Christina following (looking emotional and determined after her strongly worded monologue). "Think it over, and come to us when you have your answer. You will be reporting to the head of your department, so go to Davis when you decide."
With that, the pair of high-ranking ministry officials left Hermione to attempt to comprehend what was being asked of her. To leave this position, to accept the promotion… It was both an honor and a great responsibility. It was what Hermione had dreamt about for the past year. And she knew she deserved it. After all the cases he had significantly contributed, cases that they had won… she knew this position hadn't been offered lightly.
Hermione floo-ed to her flat and set about heating up leftovers for dinner. At first glance, there was no reason for her not to take the role. It was everything she could hope for, ask for in a position. She had reviewed the contract Kingsky had left on her desk. She would she a team of about five people working for her. They would do what Hermione currently did. She would have a secretary - not that she truly needed one - and would be able to lead cases after case. She would be an official ministry lawyer. Her paycheck would rise to meet the level appropriate for her new role… It seemed perfect.
There has to be a catch, Hermione kept telling herself. There must be something I'm missing, some piece that doesn't fit quite so perfectly in. my life's never this easy. Certainly not in the past, why would it be now?
Hermioen slept fitfully, tossing and turning all night. Around six she gave up trying to sleep and went for a walk around her area. The buildings rose up on each side of her as Hermione fought to find whatever loophole she knew she was missing, whatever it is that would prove this role wasn't as perfect as it seemed. There was simply no way she - Hermione Jean Granger - could ever be handed something so easily.
But it wasn't just handed to me, was it? Some little voice in her head reminded her. You've worked so hard for this. When was the last weekend you didn't do any work? When was the last date you went on?
Not liking where her mind was going, the witch shook her hair. Many of ehr curls escaped the ponytail she had pulled them into before she had left her apartment. Annoyed, Hermione tried to smooth them back. Inevitably, they didn't listen. In fact, she was fairly certain she;d made it worse. Sighing, she turned into a nearby coffee shop and ordered herself a latte and croissant. She didn't usually drink coffee, but she had a feeling she was going to need the extra strong caffeine today. Particularly after a sleepless night and this being the last weekend before Harry's party.
Hermione turned out to be right. The day turned out to be long and brutal. Somehow, one of her co-workers had overheard the conversation the day before and had told EVERYONE. If she wasn't being hounded for what decision she was going to make, people were dumping work on her or sweet-talking her. As if she couldn't see right through their ass-kissing!
Around two in the afternoon, she stormed to the Auror department, hoping to find a reprieve from the never-ending attention. When she reached Harry's desk, she found him buried in a mountain of parchment.
"Lots of paperwork?" She asked.
The raven-haired man jumped. "Yup. Harpy's trying to get an appeal. He says that his sentence is too harsh. As if!" He looked up to see his friend frazzled and with purple smudges under her eyes. "You look like shit."
"Thanks."
"I'm serious. Go home and sleep." He paused then added, "I take it this means the rumors are true?"
Hermioen nodded. "Kingslye offered me a position at the level of my supervisor. Along with some hearty praise and a lecture from Christina about deciding where I want to go and harnessing my potential." The witch couldn't stop the eye-roll as she perched on the only slightly-clean area of Harry's desk. "How do you put up with the constant bombardment of questions and sucking up everyday? I feel like my brain is going to liquify and pour out my ears!"
Harry cracked up. "Now, that'd be quite a sight. And anyway, c'mon, you're used to this. We are the Golden Trio, after all."
"After the divorce, people just saw me as the 'sad old-maid who helped save the world as a kid, got married too young and wasted her life'."
"I highly doubt that, 'mione." Harry sighed, finally looking up from his papers. "Look, don't overthink this. Go home, take a nap, talk to your mom about it - make a pro/con list, whatever you need. Just… why wouldn't you take it?"
"Don't mock my pro/con lists! And that's what I keep asking myself. I've spent the past nine months working towards this. And, sure, I didn't expect the offer so soon, but… What's stopping me?"
"Maybe… No, never mind. There's no way." Harry appeared to be rolling his eyes at himself, mentally scolding himself for even starting his sentence. But, at Hermione's piercing, unflinching gaze, he caved. "Maybe you don't want to change roles because you're scared. And maybe… you want to keep working on whatever case got you invited to Malfoy and his fiancé's flat?"
Hermioen stared at her best friend. As if she actually wanted to keep working with Draco Malfoy! But… he wasn't wrong. Not only was the case interesting, but she was getting on well with the pair. "I'm not scared! Nervous? Yes, of course. But not scared. I'm ready to move on, to push myself harder-"
"You always are. That doesn't mean much," the bespectacled boy - well, man - reminded her. She chuckled.
"Fine. I'm going to go lock myself in my office and actually get something done today. Hopefully without any more interruptions." Hermione jumped down from the desk and Harry waved her away, calling after her, "make sure to nap!"
A/N: Sorry there was no Malfoy in this one... I wanted to focus on Hermione and what she is feeling - as well as some Ron POV. Draco will come back, I promise. After all, this is a Dramione fic. But this story is also about Hermione trying to find herself. She did all this crazy stuff hen she was barely 18... now she's in her twenty's and feel alone and is looking for some change, some hope. Will this job be the change she needs? (Eww that sounds so cheesy.. you get what I'm saying, though)