Hermione wasn't sure why the strange invitation kept swirling around her mind all night, even though she had decided to ignore it. But it wasn't all bad - at least it made her feel like Hermione Granger, who often had things on her mind, rather than just someone who came home and fell asleep with an empty head.
This morning was no different. After dragging her weary body and reluctant mind from her tiny flat in Clerkenwell to her office, all she could do was stare at the large boreal owl that still perched on her desk and an envelope laying there. Hermione inhaled the scent of spearmint tea mingling with the musty smell of old parchment stacked around the room, then let out a long. She picked up the mysterious letter again.
Her chocolate brown eyes scrutinized the typewritten words. She nibbled her bottom lip pensively, pondering who might have sent such a letter and what their true intentions were behind this peculiar dance invitation.
"I can't even remember the last time I danced," she muttered to the owl, which cocked its head as if listening intently. "Must have been the fourth year at the Yule Ball..."
She trailed off with a strangled cry in her throat, grabbing her hair in frustration as she remembered she should have forgotten all that by now. But glimpses of that night and the events leading up to it played through her mind like a movie projector...
The tall figure in an impeccable black suit contrasting his blonde hair... Those concerned grey eyes when that foul Ron had insulted her... It was the first time she saw Draco Malfoy differently, and it marked the beginning of their relationship - but that wasn't important now. They were like two parallel lines that would never intersect again.
Shaking thoughts of him out of her head, Hermione peered at the ornate invitation and the curiously shaped train ticket. The train ticket seemed specially designed for the guests attending the party. The brown paper bore the embossed seal of a butterfly above the words "Papilio Mansion 1830".
"1830," she murmured. In Muggle history, that was a time of political and industrial revolutions. In wizarding history...that was a period of expanding wizarding communities. It wouldn't be odd for some organization or business to have sprouted up then. But how had she never heard of something established over 175 years ago?
Hermione furrowed her brow in thought as she glanced at the watch on her wrist. It looked like there was still over two hours before the scheduled meeting about the new regulations on using the time turner. She decided to check the voice messages from the magic answering machine first, then stop by the Ministry of Magic library to research the Papilio Mansion.
She moved her slender hand to touch the crystal box about the size of a thick book sitting on the polished wooden base. When she touched the box, the crystal orb slowly floated up while emitting soft, alternating lights in various colors to indicate there were pending voice messages. Most were from coworkers, sending reminders about documents or making work appointments. For example, Daily Prophet asked for a definite date and time for an interview regarding the illegal use of restrain charms in Knockturn Alley. Some messages were also from friends who often messaged inviting her out frequently, which she never replied to since she wasn't in the mood to see anyone. For example:
Message #7
Hi Hermione, it's Ginny. Are you free this Saturday? I think we should go shopping together.
Cho just returned from MACUSA after a year, and Fleur is bringing Victoire along – she's quite the chatterbox now.
Everyone wants to see you. Come out if you're free!
In truth, Ginny often messaged inviting her out, but she would always promptly decline. But this time, she hadn't made up her mind yet. She thought she'd reply tomorrow; it should still be in time. Although the answer was usually that she was too tired from work and wanted to rest, or that she'd clean her place over the weekend. But this time, it seemed like Ginny was subtly pressuring her, in addition to the reasons from the other party about why she should go out and socialize. The constantly declining Hermione was even hesitating for once.
"You know, I didn't think you'd still be here after yesterday," she turned off the answering machine and turned her attention to the fat owl instead. "Actually, you should've given me more details if you wanted an answer for RSVP from me."
The owl ruffled its feathers slightly and hooted as if trying to respond to what it heard.
"Oh well, everything will have to wait until I get to the bottom of my own doubts, understand?"
After speaking, she tidied her desk and got up to stretch her arms a little. She grabbed her mint tea cup and finished it before it got cold. She felt much better thinking that she had something else to ponder other than the tedious work she'd been doing for years – truthfully, she was even feeling rather excited – who knows how long it had been since Hermione visited the library to research something to solve a mystery. It was rather fun and bizarre to think about.
The familiar smells of books and ink in the library made her heart race with excitement. It reminded her of her second year at Hogwarts, when researching was more about solving mysteries with friends than anything else. It was a thrill she missed – one far more memorable than the monotonous routine of adulthood. Even when their quests led them into danger, the memories were cherished - at least they reminded her that growing up meant the world slowly put you in a box, making you become someone you hardly recognized.
Her slender fingers trailed along the book spines as her eyes roamed aimlessly, not knowing where to begin searching for information on Papilio Mansion. She peered through a gap in the shelves, hoping to spot someone who could offer advice. But in the silence of the library, she figured she was the only one here right now.
"The archives would be the best place to start," she muttered under her breath.
The Ministry Archives contained a wealth of historical records and important documents from the wizarding world. The room was filled with floor-to-ceiling shelves made of polished antique wood engraved with protective charms. Soft glowing light spheres floated in the middle of the room, making it a comfortable place for research and reading.
Hermione had always loved it here but rarely visited anymore. This was her first time in 2-3 years. Running her fingers along the shelves organized by century, it didn't take her long to arrive at the 19th century section. She slowly walked along the shelves marked with the decades until she stopped at the one labeled 1830. Her fingers skimmed over the worn boxes stacked there, as if touching pieces of wizarding history. But there seemed to be too many fragments, and her time was limited.
"Accio building records!" she incanted, but nothing flew out at her command. "Accio Papilio Mansion!"
At her second attempt, there was a loud rustling noise - but it wasn't caused by soaring books. Instead, it was a tall figure attempting to peer through a gap in the shelves to look at her. Hermione started at the sudden eye contact, but her surprise quickly vanished when the eyes crinkled into a smile and a familiar voice called out.
"Oh hey - Hermione, is that you?"
"Neville! What brings you here?" she replied with a grin.
Neville stood up to his full height and chatted with her over the bookshelf. "Lately I've been spending a lot of time at the archives. I like coming to read about the history of herbalism and interesting potion ingredients," he said.
"Don't Aurors have enough missions to keep them busy?" she smiled wryly.
"I wish I could quit," Neville confessed, lowering his voice. "But that's a secret. Who would want that job? I'll be resigning soon."
Resigning... it seemed to be the word on everyone's lips this year. Hermione frowned and tilted her head to look at her old friend. "Resign? What will you do then?"
"Don't tell anyone," he whispered again. "Hogwarts just sent me an invitation to be the new Herbology Professor. But I think I'll wait a bit before trying my hand at teaching. I'm still not very confident about what I can teach or who I can teach," he confessed.
Hermione nodded understandingly. To her, Neville seemed far more suited to being the Herbology Professor than an Auror. If he decided to return to Hogwarts to teach, it would be good and she would be very happy for him. As for her, she would probably continue pushing papers in the Ministry of Magic until she died - if she was very unlucky.
"I believe you can do it," she encouraged him. "By the way, were you looking for something? Can I help?"
The other smiled and shook his head. "No need, I already found what I was looking for. What about you, can I help with anything?"
Hermione hesitated briefly before deciding to ask. "Papilio Mansion - I'm not sure what it is. It could be a residence or an organization. I saw it was established in 1830. I've never heard of it before so I was curious and wanted to see if it had anything to do with history from that period. Maybe it would give a clue as to what it is."
Neville made some documents flutter to the floor noisily before laughing drily as he pondered. "Papilio Mansion?"
He seemed as absent-minded as ever, making Hermione feel nostalgic for their school days at Hogwarts. She wondered what each of her old friends was up to now and where they were - especially that blonde-haired Slytherin... No! She would not think of him. Absolutely not.
After emerging from her thoughts, the bushy-haired woman nodded. "Yes, I happened to come across it in passing," she explained.
"I feel like I just heard Luna mention it the other day," the young Auror murmured. "You got a strange invitation too, didn't you?"
Hermione perked up, curiosity glinting in her eyes. "Yes, Luna received one too?"
"She seems quite interested - truthfully I also got one but didn't pay it much attention," Neville emphasized. "Why don't you try contacting Luna? Sounds like she may have uncovered some information already."
"I'll try getting in touch with her," Hermione nodded. "Maybe you heard about some of what she found out. Can you remember anything that might help? I could look for records or documents related to it."
The young man furrowed his brow in thought. "I think it used to belong to Seraphina Fawley - never heard that name before, probably no one important," he suggested uncertainly.
After parting with Neville in the library, Hermione found it hard to concentrate on the steady stream of work in front of her that afternoon. Her mind kept wandering to the pile of books she had gathered from the library and archives - she selected only those that might contain information about the Fawley family, such as 19th century property records and genealogies of wizarding lines - as well as anxiously awaiting Luna's reply after she had sent her an owl at midday.
"You look a bit out of sorts today, Granger," a voice whispered as she was going through reports of illegal wizardry and Misuse of Muggle Artefacts that had been confiscated. "Like you've got something good going on."
"I don't feel that way at all, Parkinson," Hermione shrugged. "By the way, aren't you curious why modified Muggles telephones that can talk to magical creatures are classified as misuse?"
"Oh, never mind that. Maybe someone was calling a hippogriff while it was flying, causing it to crash - but you, why the radiant face out of the ordinary?"
Hermione sighed and glanced at Pansy Parkinson. The truth was, she had been working with Pansy for quite some time now. Since transferring to the department, she had often checked the illegal objects that were Pansy's responsibility, which eventually led to an unlikely friendship between the two coworkers.
"There are things that make it feel like each day has more meaning than before," she replied, quickly changing the subject back to work. "But how would a hippogriff get a telephone? What nonsense. Is this report correct?"
"I never make mistakes, Granger - go ahead and check it. No one is going to come verify after you anyway."
Casual work attitudes seemed to have become the norm at the post-war Ministry, and it was one of the many reasons she was growing disillusioned with her job. She disagreed with the unmotivated and directionless approach, as not only was it failing to benefit the wizarding world, it was hindering everyone's potential by removing the incentive to improve.
"Alright, Granger, if you won't tell me I won't pry, but I bet you've got something planned," Pansy said insistently.
"I already told you, just things that make life feel more meaningful," she replied, trying not to let her thoughts slip out.
Eventually Pansy fell silent and Hermione was able to refocus on her work. But as she flipped through pages full of information, her mind kept circling back to the invitation. Time passed slowly as she worked with Pansy, examining reports and documents while trying not to let on that her thoughts were elsewhere. She hoped Pansy would stay quiet until she finished, but that seemed to be too much to ask...
"Have you heard of Papilio Mansion?"
The name made Hermione whip her head towards the speaker, though she managed to restrain her reaction in time and tried to sound nonchalant. "No, not familiar. What is it?"
"I just got an invite to a masquerade ball there," Pansy said, twirling her wand to change her nail color. "I heard some of our acquaintances got one too, like Blaise, Theo and such."
Hermione involuntarily held her breath, having expected to hear that name. But she was surprised Pansy didn't say it out loud.
"You didn't get one?"
"Don't think so, I don't recognize it," she lied.
Pansy looked at her for a moment before nodding. "Oh I see. Pity."
"So what kind of place is it?"
"A large mansion located in Aberdeen. I heard it belongs to Lady Seraphina Fawley - you may have heard of her in passing. She is the one who pushed for equal rights and freedom for all witches and wizards, like pauper or those not from Sacred Twenty-Eight families, so they won't get oppressed like in the past."
The listener frowned, surprised she had never heard of someone with such interesting accomplishments, especially since Seraphina's work related to equality in wizarding society.
The listener frowned, surprised that she had never heard of someone with such an impressive and important body of work, especially since Seraphina's work had to do with equality in wizarding society.
"You can't be serious!" Pansy exclaimed, her hand flying to cover her mouth, freshly painted black and green nails on display. "Oh my God, Granger, don't tell me..."
"I may have missed it," she admitted grudgingly, feeling uncharacteristically embarrassed, but she could do nothing but admit her ignorance.
Her coworker giggled, a wide smile on her face. "Well, if you get an invitation, I suggest you go. It's a chance to let your hair down and learn something new for once."
Hermione had to admit that the thought of it was like a train building steam in her mind, hot and noisy. "The ball might only be for Slytherins, from the sound of the guest list you just read out."
"That's not certain. There's no way an event of that scale would be limited to Slytherins - that sort of thing is so last century, you know, the whole house rivalry thing."
"Take your work, Parkinson," Hermione snapped, slamming the report file shut in frustration.
The other woman let out a delighted, almost taunting giggle as she came to collect the report file, hugging it to her chest. "You know, you're a terrible liar - just hear me out, accept the invitation. It's a chance to learn something new, for once."
Pansy nodded towards the envelope still sitting on Hermione's desk, chuckling softly before turning to leave Hermione's office, leaving the fuming woman alone with her embarrassment and the incriminating evidence of the ball invitation spread out on her desk.