A/N - thank you all for your wonderful comments. I guess I should warn that this is probably going to be a bit sad and angsty for most of the story until the end because, unlike JKR, I don't really believe that teenagers (well, anyone really) can get over so much death and loss by just a few comments and stray thoughts. This is a story about their growth from the horrors they've been through to young adults able to live normal lives. I hope that doesn't turn some of you away. Anyway, here we go. A bit of a pratty Ron, but he doesn't remain that way, I promise. Thanks again for the reviews.
"Wake up, Master Harry."
Harry forced his eyes open and saw the large eyes of his house elf peering into his face. Blinking and sitting up, Harry stretched, used to this routine since he started working at the Ministry one month ago.
This time, however, something was different. He was fully clothed for one as well as being in the drawing room instead of his bedroom. Taking his glasses from Kreacher, who was waiting at his side patiently, he glanced around and noted he was on a larger version of the couch and had been covered with a blanket from his own bed. He saw there were two pillows at the head of the makeshift bed, this observation making something click in his brain.
"Where's Hermione?" he asked nervously.
"The Miss woke up ten minutes ago and is now having a shower," Kreacher informed him, "although Kreacher told her you normally shower first, she would not listen to Kreacher."
"She can have a shower first, that's fine," Harry told the elf absently, "er - what happened?"
"Kreacher came to tidy the drawing room and found Master and the Miss on the couch," Kreacher explained as he scurried around collecting the bed clothes, "so Kreacher made the couch more comfortable."
"Right," Harry replied, still lost in thought, "thanks."
He had slept with Hermione. Sure, they were clothed and sure, neither were aware of it at the time - but he still slept with Hermione.
In the same bed.
As he made his way upstairs to his room to get ready for work, he kept telling himself that it didn't matter - he had slept in the same room with Hermione many times, especially in the last year. Granted, never in the same bed but sometimes, especially when it had been cold, it had been close. Sort of.
Besides, nothing happened. Okay, so he had been holding her in his arms when he must've fallen asleep and yes, it had been the best sleep he'd had for a very long time - but that meant nothing.
Nothing at all.
Except the thought that kept going through his mind as he got ready for work was that Ron better not find out.
He made his way to the kitchen to see that Hermione was already there, drinking a cup of tea and looking rather smart in a straight skirt and crisp white blouse. She looked up as he sat down to the plate of toast and jam Kreacher had gotten ready for him, a slight blush touching her cheeks. He didn't know why he also felt slightly embarrassed but determined to let her know everything was fine, he started to tell her the plan for attack once they got to the Ministry.
Half an hour later, they stepped out of one of the many floos connected to the main atrium at the Ministry of Magic, joining the other workers for the start of the working week. Harry waited as Hermione took in her surroundings - the grand water fountain that dominated the atrium when they came to the Ministry a couple of years ago was gone. So was the degrading statue that had been there during the short reign of Voldemort. Now there was a wall carved with the names of those who had lost their lives in the latest struggle, a constant veil of water running down its smooth surface.
Hermione made her way to the monument, casting her eyes over the thousands of names, then bowed her head as she said a small prayer. Harry watched in silence, himself remembering those they lost with a wave of the ever present guilt that seemed to follow him everywhere.
When Hermione finally glanced at him, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. He gave her a supportive smile, then took her hand to lead her through the thin crowds and up to the new Minister of Magic's office.
When the doors clunked open at the first floor, what lay before them was organised chaos. There were groups of people mulling over large charts that hung on the walls, depicting all the wizarding sites in Britain damaged by Voldemort's regime. Many of the villages were named as was Hogsmeade, St Mungo's and Hogwarts.
The biggest list was for the Ministry itself and it was there that most of the activity was focused. Kingsley Shacklebolt was in the middle of it all, his large frame dominating. A few of his workers noticed Harry and Hermione's arrival, signalling to the busy Minister of his visitors, his face breaking out into a broad grin when he realised who they were.
"Aren't you two a sight for sore eyes," he welcomed, shaking Harry's hand warmly before turning to Hermione, his smile fading, "I'm so sorry for the loss of your parents, Hermione. I hope the Ministry was able to make the unfortunate situation somewhat easier for you."
Harry frowned slightly, cutting in on Hermione before she could reply to Shacklebolt.
"You told the Ministry but you didn't tell us?" he accused, glaring at her - she glared back.
"I needed their help to 'kill' my parents," she snapped, "death certificates, insurance claims - that kind of thing. Sorry for not including you, Harry!" She scowled at him for a moment longer before taking a calming breath, turning from him and addressing the Minister, "yes, thank you," she said politely, as if her outburst didn't happen, "the Ministry of Australasia were very helpful."
"That's good to hear," Kingsley replied gently, following her lead and ignoring her spat with Harry, "again, my condolences. Never something easy to go through."
"No," she told him shortly, glancing at her shoes in an attempt to hide her tears.
Harry felt his anger subside as quickly as it had come, recognising just how stupid he was. Berating himself, he again came to the realisation that Hermione had been through a traumatic experience and really, he wasn't making it any easier for her.
"Now," Kingsley continued, once more beaming, "I'm hoping you're here to apply for one of the hundreds of jobs currently vacant within the Ministry because we could really do with your talent, Miss Granger!"
"Um, yes," she said shyly, "yes - Harry thought I might be able to find some work…"
"Well, Harry isn't wrong," the Minister agreed, leading them over to the large board with 'Ministry of Magic' emblazoned at the top, "you could always join him and Ron in the Auror department - the Trio together again…"
"No, actually, I don't want to keep fighting," she admitted quietly and once more Harry took her hand in comfort.
"Totally understandable," Kingsley sympathised, "well then, perhaps the question should be - what do you want to do? Because I can almost guarantee that there will a job open in whatever area you want to enter into."
"Er," she started, glancing uncertainly at Harry, who gave her an encouraging smile, "um, I would like to help getting equality for the other magical creatures that are looked down on by wizards, like…like house elves. I know it sounds rather silly…"
"It's not silly Hermione," Harry encouraged, "we wouldn't have won if it wasn't for many of the races that wizards have subjugated for ages. They need a voice."
"I agree with Harry," Kingsley smiled, "so you'd like to work with wizarding laws and such like, especially surrounding the equality of magical races?"
"Yes," she affirmed, then with a quieter, "if possible."
"It most certainly is," Kingsley stated, turning back to the large board, "we need more than a little help in our legal division. However, we may need to start you in an introductory level, just until you find your feet. I'm sure with your intelligence, it won't be long before you are able to work your way up the ladder.
"Right," he paused slightly, studying the board, "I think Dotty Sidewalker would love to have you as her assistant." With a quick nod to an aid, who had been hovering discreetly around them, a memo was dispatched and Hermione's name was included on the short list in the International Magical Office of Law. "I'm afraid we can't afford to pay you much," he continued, looking back at Hermione, "our coffers are a bit depleted at the moment, but I assure you that once the Ministry gets back on its feet, you will get a substantial pay rise."
"Oh, money isn't an issue," Hermione said quickly, before blushing and glancing at Harry, "I mean, as long as I can pay my way…"
"Money isn't an issue," Harry repeated firmly.
"Excellent," Kingsley beamed, "why don't I get Smithers here to introduce you to Dotty and you can get started. I suspect you will need to take part with the many trials that are happening down at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, plus the many regulations that are coming about with the Ministry restructuring, but in time we will need to look at the relationships with our magical brothers. I'm sure by then, you'll be well versed in current wizarding law."
"Thank you, Kingsley," Hermione gushed, "I really appreciate this opportunity…"
"Goodness, Hermione, it's me who should be thanking you! The brightest witch of her age is an asset to any team!"
"You sound surprised that you have a job," Harry added, nudging Hermione playfully.
"It's just that," Hermione confessed, blushing once more, "I don't have my NEWTS…"
"There is a whole group of students that don't have qualifications," Kingsley countered, "like so many things, we have adapted. Now, there is one thing that I am insisting on and it is no different for you."
"What's that?" she asked.
"That you only work a forty hour week."
"Oh, I don't mind working longer," Hermione assured quickly, "I know there is so much to get done…"
"That I know, Miss Granger. But you also need to regain your life," the Minister instructed seriously, "no one is to work more than what is decent, that is something I insist on. We will get things back in order, of that I have no doubt. But our people have been through a shocker of a few years and the need to be with those who are close to us, rebuild our own lives, is just as essential as rebuilding the world in which we live. Therefore, you are to work only forty hours a week, okay?"
Hermione nodded her acceptance and once more Kingsley broke into a broad grin.
"Brilliant," he smiled, "now, I must dash, I have some other matters to attend to. Good luck with your new job, Hermione. Good to see you again, Harry."
With that, they were dismissed, Smithers joining them as they made their way to the lifts
"How can he expect people only to work forty hours?" she whispered to Harry, "there's so much to do!"
"And it will get done," Harry whispered back, "you heard him. He's pretty strict about it so don't start getting ideas." He glanced at his watch and saw he was already ten minutes late, "look, I have to go. How 'bout I meet you for lunch?"
"Okay," she replied nervously.
"You'll be fine," he assured her with a smile, "I'll see you for lunch, okay?"
Harry left her as he made his way to his corner of the Ministry, smiling as he thought, after all this time, Hermione still had her insecurities about her abilities - just like her OWL's all over again.
Four hours passed of him and a fellow Auror going over some surveillance wards that had been activated at one of the chambers within Gringott's so the break to have lunch with Hermione was welcomed. As he sat down with her in a Muggle café not far from the office, he couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm as she described her job.
By the end of the week, things had settled down to a routine of going to work, eating and sitting down in the evenings and reading. They didn't talk much and if they did, it was about the Ministry. Harry didn't bring up the nightmares (or the night they spent together), and neither did Hermione but he could tell they hadn't disappeared for either of them.
Colour had returned to his friends' face but the haunted look never left her, even when she was excited by something she had learned at her job. When Saturday arrived, Hermione seemed to retreat further into herself. Harry was confused - Ron was due home that evening and he would've thought she would be excited to seem him again after all this time.
By two o'clock, he couldn't stand it anymore and asked her if she wanted to go to the markets with him, thinking that they had had so much fun the previous weekend when looking around London that another trip outside might cheer her up a bit. She quietly consented and with a sigh of relief, they left Grimmauld Place to wander around the local outdoor market and after a little while, she finally began to enjoy herself.
They were back in the kitchen, going over their purchases, when the fireplace turned green and Ron stepped out. His arrival coincided with Hermione trying to get back her new hat from Harry, who was holding it above him, well out of her reach. She had just climbed onto a chair so she could grab it when Ron stepped into the kitchen.
"What's going on here?" he snapped, startling Hermione from her perch as she turned from Harry, her hands still resting on his shoulders.
"Ron!" she welcomed, hastily stepping from the chair to hug him, "you're back!"
"So are you, it seems," he grumbled, "how long have you been here?"
"Um, a week," Hermione answered uncertainly, "Harry's let me stay here…"
"I'm sure he has," Ron continued to growl, glaring at Harry, then back to Hermione, "so you've been back from Australia a week then?"
"Actually, a…a month."
"A month!" Ron cried, "but you decide to show up when I'm not here? Typical!"
"What's your problem?" Harry asked, his own anger beginning to build, "Hermione's been through a lot…"
"I bet she has," Ron sneered, "and I bet you've been here, ready to comfort her! I can't believe that I actually trusted you! That I believed all that rubbish about you loving her like a sister! What a load of bullshit! The moment my back is turned, you're living together!"
"Shut up Ron," Harry hissed, advancing on his friend, "you don't know what you're talking about…"
"I don't, do I?" he spat back, "I know more than you think. I'm out of here!"
With that, he turned on his heel, ready to floo back home.
"Ron…" Hermione pleaded, but didn't move to stop him. He looked at her dismissively.
"Whatever," he grumbled, "'bye, Hermione," and in a flash of green, was gone.
Harry went to her side, ready to put an arm around her shoulders in comfort but she quickly moved out of his reach and turned to face him.
"Did you really tell him that?" she asked quietly, her tears already forming, "that you loved me like a sister?"
"Yeah," Harry answered, confused, "when we opened the locket, the Horcrux told him that we were cheating on him behind his back, that you liked me and not him. I set him straight and said that you were like a sister to me and I was like a brother to you," he paused as she seemed to flinch, her eyes leaving his, "I mean, that's how it is, isn't it?"
For the briefest of moments, there was silence - which confused Harry even more.
"Yes, of course that's how it is," Hermione agreed finally, looking up at him as she did so.
"Don't worry about Ron, I'll talk to him tomorrow," Harry tried to reassure, "are you okay?"
"Yes," she repeated, "yes, fine. I…I think I might go to my room and…and think about things for a bit. Work out what to do next…"
"Things will be fine," he continued, giving her what he hoped was a comforting smile as she gathered her things together, "you and Ron have been through worse."
"I know."
"Will you come down for dinner?"
"Sure," and with that she was gone leaving a very confused Harry standing alone in the kitchen.