A/N: Sorry this was a long wait. Thank-you for being so patient. I will try as best as I can to get an update a frequent as I can but I have tonnes of work at the moment. Anyway, enjoy.
Hermione was glad to be out of the restricting stone walls of the room behind her. She sighed, squaring her shoulders, reassuring herself that everything was going to be alright. The 27 year-old woman was feeling dead beat and countless years older than she really was. She had began to hate looking at her reflection in the mirror and seeing weary brown eyes staring back at her filled with a deep and hidden grief. As she walked down the ancient corridors she now knew so well, she dreamed of her days back at Hogwarts, back to the years before Dumbledore had died. Even though times had been troubled, Hermione had been filled with a content happiness and her eyes had shone with a bright sparkle. Everything had been less complicated then it was now and she had her two best friends to love and support her and to give her purpose in life.
Now, however, she had lost one of her friends and was on the verge of loosing another. Now, she was beginning to wonder where she had gone wrong.
She supposed it had all began with her rising dreams to be the best she could and at the same time improve the wizarding world as much as she possibly could. She was beyond sick of the prejudices that plagued a world that Hermione had believed to have turned into a new era. In her naïve innocence she had assumed that the death of Voldemort would mean that those prejudices would die with him. Unfortunately, that had never happened and Hermione had been rudely awoken by her fantasies of equality.
However, this had made her just as determined to do something about it.
Much to the surprise of Ron and Harry and the approval of Professor McGonagall (and Hermione hoped, the approval of her deceased Head Master, Dumbledore), she had laid aside her dreams of becoming an auror alongside her two adventurous friends. Instead, she had turned her ambitions to a position perhaps just as dangerous and entered the world of politics.
Many had been astonished at her choice, but saw quickly that she was single-minded to make a difference and realised it was perhaps the correct job for the young woman.
It had taken many years of hard work for her to get where she was today. She had needed her inner strength, her determination, a sharp mind and the ability to mask her emotions, qualities Hermione had at hand. Needless to say, she had done it, not as easily as she would have liked, but all the same, she had achieved her goal to become the Minister of Magic.
It was in those seven years at the ministry that she had gotten married, lost a dear friend, made some new ones.
And now as her third year as Minister of Magic began, Hermione was close to loosing all that she had gained in those precious seven years. Her marriage was falling apart at the seams and she no longer knew who to trust anymore.
She turned briskly, walking down another ancient, draughty corridor illuminated by magnificently tall stain-glass windows. The glass was divided into shards of pink, green, blue and white, lighting the corridor in a brilliant radiance. For a fleeting moment, Hermione felt that she was standing in a church but she chased away the thought, a frown creasing her tightly drawn face. She paused a moment, her eyes following the dazzling light which made the whole corridor glow. She shook her head, noticing for the first time that the door at the end of the corridor was the only thing not illuminated by the breath-taking windows. Hermione wondered if it was a bad omen but ignored the thought and strode purposefully to the door that led to her department, scolding herself for being so negative.
She sighed wearily as she slid through the enormous ebony doors, walking into the large foyer that contained countless offices, a spacious lounge and a fully equipped café. The room was constructed with a classical Greek décor of stunning marble columns and marble floors.
Hermione made her way down a small set of stairs and wound her way through the maze of offices, around the tall marble fountain in the centre of the foyer, stopping at the café to pick up a coffee.
Then, without pausing to talk to anyone, she left quietly through the glass doors that led to her own personal office. She swept past her secretary Bonnie with a curt nod and entered her office through another set of glass doors. Sitting down at her mahogany desk, Hermione sipped at her coffee, distractedly watching Bonnie work.
The glass wall had been Hermione's own innovative idea. It had been one of the first things she'd changed when she had come into office. It allowed her to know exactly who was in her office without having to be informed and with a wave of her wand it also became tinted so that she had all the privacy that she might need.
Still distracted, Hermione watched her blonde-haired secretary as she worked. As she did her thoughts wandered to the Cabinet meeting she had left only minutes before.
It seemed that her Older Ministers were stirring up a treacherous plot to kick her out of her position as Minister of Magic. It wasn't the first attempt, but Hermione was beginning to grow extremely wary of the old prejudiced men that objected to her being their leader.
She knew as a fact that one of them, most likely the Head of Dwarf Rights and Responsibilities, had leaked to the Daily Prophet some nonsense story about the threat of the Dwarf Civil War late last March. It was an effort to change the events that had occurred, making Hermione appear hesitant to react to the situation. In truth, it had been her Ministers that had not known what to do, Hermione being the only one to remain cool-headed during chaos. She had been compensated however, by a younger Minister deciding to speak out about the plot against her.
The older Ministers had still shook their heads, saying that it wasn't the first time that Hermione had made a blunder and that she had bribed someone to cover up her tracks.
The young Minister had been that last to stand up for her.
The message was clear: She was becoming a public embarrassment for the Ministry.
As she day dreamed, the door to her office opened and Bonnie poked her head through the door returning Hermione to the present.
"Miss," she said softly, her lips a grim line, "You're husband is here to see you."
Hermione nodded and prepared herself for encounter she knew been coming for months now.
Her husband came through the now tinted glass door, taking a seat on one of the comfortable leather lounges.
"Ron," she began, getting up to sit next to him, "Is there something wrong?"
The look on his face said it all.
"I'm sorry `Mione. I've put you through so much lately."
Hermione was shocked by the simplicity statement. She had expected him to yell at her, to blame her for everything that had happened. Quickly, she rearranged her facial expressions into unreadable mask.
"You've hurt me Ron." she whispered.
It was true. She and Ron had been arguing for almost a year now. Hermione had always wanted to have plenty of kids ever since she was a small child, being the only child in her family. It had come as a surprise to her when Ron had bluntly told her he didn't feel the same. When she had tried to reason with him, he had yelled at her, saying that he wasn't ready for kids yet.
Hermione had cried for nights on end, she had even given up on talking to him. Eventually, she forgot about giving him the cold shoulder and tried another approach. It was met with a similar reaction.
In the end, Hermione gave up entirely and decided to try and go on as if nothing had ever happened. Nothing she did could change her heart ache.
From there on, she had Ron had continued to argue about the smallest of things almost every night now. She knew the divorce was coming but it did not dim or console the pain. She was still in love with Ron despite everything that happened and what made things worse, Hermione suspected that her husband had been cheating on her.
"I…I know," he mumbled, "I think it was about time we went our separate ways."
Hermione knew all the colour had faded from her face.
"No."
"Hermione, it's over. Please don't make it any harder then it already is."
The Ron sitting beside her seemed so completely different. She wanted him to yell at her.
"Ron, you're being irrational!"
"No," he muttered, shaking his head in determined resolve, "You know we can't continue like this."
"But…But," her voice wavered. With a sigh she gave in.
"I guess you're right."
She did not cry, instead she closed the door behind him as he left. She sat back down at her desk, furiously throwing the photo of her wedding day at the wall, watching as it smashed into dozens of little pieces.
…………………………………………………………………………………………..
The afternoon definitely marked the turning of winter into spring. There was a warm humid breeze blowing through the streets of London bringing in dark storm clouds over the bustling city. People wandering around the streets ran for cover, each expecting the rain to fall at any moment.
However, there was one young man who seemed not to be concerned by the weather, even when the rain started; he kept his casual pace, walking from his work place to his apartment two blocks away.
His mind was on what he would do on the weekend, having only realised it was Friday a few minutes ago. He had no idea what he was going to do, having no work left to catch up on. After only coming back from Spain yesterday, he hadn't received any more pressing work.
It seemed he had only himself to entertain.
Determined to get through the weekend by himself, as he done many times before, he chased away his depressing thoughts of loneliness.
Reaching his apartment building he walked in, nodding his head at the receptionist before getting into the elevator and hitting the button for his floor. He glanced down at his suit, finally noticing that he was drenched to the bone.
Once he was home, he went straight to the shower before making a bee line to the fridge: a task which always kept his mind busy. The smell of rain filled the whole apartment while lightning lit up the room. A strong wind blew the curtains up into the air, knocking over a vase and distracting Harry from his important task of eating.
He repaired the vase and inspected the half open sliding door. He knew without a doubt that he had shut the door to the balcony that very morning because he was on the second floor and anyone could break in.
Someone had gotten into his apartment and could still be there.
Alert, the old auror training kicking in. He picked up his wand, making noises so it didn't warn his intruder. He went over to the sink and began running some water, hoping the sound would hide what he was really doing. Then, he went into the lounge room but heard muffled sounds coming from his study.
Deadly silent now, he crept up to the door, relieved to find it was half open. Now he had the element of surprise…
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