A/N. First part is Hermione at work then she has dinner with her friend Harry.
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Chapter 18 - Remedial Divination
"Is that an Erumpent's horn?" Hermione asked the shop keeper from the other side of a glass counter, her long crooked fingernails pointing to the hollow tusk heavily wrapped by cushioning charms.
It was late afternoon and she was in her fourth disguise for the day, this time dressed as an old hag that looked somewhat like the Hag on one of her better days. One of the stores she was watching had finally displayed something illegal and she was looking into what else they had that would be of interest.
"Yes, North American, just came in today," answered the middle aged saleswizard who seemed unenthusiastic to sell anything.
"How much?"
He eyed her disparagingly from head to toe, then stared at the wart on her hooked nose, judging, "You can't afford it."
"Sonny, do I look like a dimwit who'd want one for myself?" she replied snidely, "I'm asking for someone who's interested, moron, someone who's too rich and will never get caught setting foot in this filth."
The man livened up and asked, "Would that someone be interested in anything else?"
Cautious not to be accused of entrapment, she retorted, "Maybe. Depends on what other crap you have."
"Let me ask the boss in the back," the wizard replied and disappeared past the door that was behind him.
She pretended to study supposedly rare goblin stones and gems inside the transparent casings for a bit, then, certain she was alone, spoke softly into the Hags Against Discrimination pin on her lapel, "I may have something."
Dean got her message through their two way bluetooth device and she heard his reply via the minute receiver in her ear.
"It's about time. I'm closing up shop."
He was outside, a few stores down posing as a street stall keeper selling harmless contraband potion. They had been complaining to each other all day about how slow a day it was for dark wizardry in the alley as most of the crimes committed were petty and weren't worth blowing their cover for. They both hated doing Knockturn Alley because it was always this boring and they typically ended the day with nothing to show for.
It was Hit Wizard duty that John had committed Aurors to do once a week. He said it was to improve camaraderie and help their colleagues but what it was really was him showing he was a good team player and in the process wisely creating his unofficial doghouse. She and, by extension, her partner had earned it that morning. Dean had been supportive, telling her the entertainment she provided the team was worth serving penance for.
Thankfully the day had gone by rather quickly. She couldn't wait to get back to the Ministry with Dean and grill him on what exactly he and Luna talked about last night. He had been evasive about it that morning and they had not had a moment to talk at all since arriving at their assignment. She sensed that he was not eager to share it which only made her want to know even more.
She checked up on the saleswizard and detected him in one of the backrooms with another human figure. This was taking way too long. They might as well bust them for the horn and figure out the rest later.
"Ready?" she asked her partner.
"In a sec."
Hermione looked at the timeteller. She was meeting Harry after work too. That morning, it upset her when he came in late looking very tired, unable to stop herself from immediately jumping to a revolting conclusion. She prayed she was wrong but even just the memory of Bimbo One touching him last night made her insides curl. That was who he replaced Ginny with?! It was downright insulting and even made her wonder, albeit briefly, whether Ginny was right about what he wanted out of a relationship. She'd definitely have a word with him about that.
Between Dean, him and that creep of partner of his her mind had not had a spare moment of idleness that day. Her jaw clenched involuntarily just thinking about Gates. There were not enough despicable words to adequately describe that sorry excuse for an Auror. It annoyed her that his HR file consisted of one parchment documenting the open ended 'temporary' transfer to the London Ministry, indicating he got into the force because someone high up got him in. She had to ask someone who knew someone who knew someone who had to pay someone who knew someone to get her the information she needed.
She wasn't too thrilled to hear the off the record true story but it was what it was. Really, in the scheme of things, it didn't matter. Gates was still a jerk and her goal was to expeditiously divest the London Ministry of his services, the sooner the better.
Don't get mad. Get even.
That was Hagspeak, one of the few things Hermione agreed with her ex-teacher about because it made perfect sense. She still had trouble with the not-getting-mad part but she was trying to redirect her energies into getting even. First she had to find out which high ranking Ministry official got Gates in and who she was about to annoy.
Harry likely knew about this which would explain his acceptance of the asshole but even so she was displeased that Harry was tolerating if not embracing Gates' inclusion into the team. As subtle as it was the Harry she saw with Gates was not the Harry she knew, and she liked the old Harry better. Or maybe that was coincidence and her disappointment in Harry had more to do with how bad he was making Ginny feel than with anything else.
Thinking about it more now she felt guilty about her abruptness with him this morning. It was unimaginable that Harry would deliberately hurt Ginny and either way she had no right to be angry. It would be nice to hear his side of the story, although she did anticipate that getting him to talk about it could pose a challenge.
She looked at the timeteller again. That saleswizard sure was taking his sweet time. And where was Dean?
"Fuck," Dean hissed, "I've got trouble. I'm gonna need help."
"I'm on my way."
No questions asked, she stepped out of the store and immediately saw what he meant. Eight thugs were headed for his folded up stall with purpose.
"Stay back for a bit," Dean whispered, "Let me see what they want first."
Hermione did as he asked. She 'window-shopped' and slowly made her way closer to him while watching them off the glass reflection. They had Dean surrounded and she quickly went through the possible scenarios in her head.
"Gentlemen, what can I do for you?"
One of the wizards answered, "What are you selling?"
"Potions for every need. Would you like to sample one of pure euphoria?"
"Maybe next time. That'll be twenty percent of your receipts for the day."
They hit a gold mine. For days the MLE had heard rumours about someone sending thugs to the 'hardworking' dregs in Knockturn Alley and charging them for protection. It wasn't so much that they cared about lowlifes being taken advantage of by lower-lives but they were interested in the lower-life who was marking territory, if the word on the street was true. They just confirmed that it was. She called it in as she listened to Dean playing dumb and asking the gang of goons to explain exactly what it was they meant.
"Granger here. Thomas just attracted our elusive tax collectors. I'm counting eight."
"I'll send back-up," Hank Trussel, her squad leader, told her through her mobile, "We need a name."
"He's working on it."
Dean was and it was best to assume they would be on their own. When Trussel sent back-up it was usually too little too late. She ran her plan by Dean.
"Take out the one in the back and to your right first, I'll cover your left then we'll divvy up the leftovers."
"I'm okay with it," Dean answered addressing both her and the leader of the group, "Really, I have no problem about paying tax, I just wanna know who I'm paying it to and whose protection it is I'll expect when the time comes."
"You ask too many questions. Our boss doesn't like questions."
It took a split second.
"Stupefy!" a bad guy yelled out.
Dean had already pulled the brute closest him and used him as a shield against the incoming curse, hexing the one behind him just when the impact of the first spell caused him to fall back. She fired a couple of shots to draw the enemy's attention and, as they scattered, she Apparated to a spot a few feet to Dean's left, his weak side.
Curses flew all over the place, the screams of bystanders blending with the crashing sounds of destruction around them. They had tenuous cover behind Dean's and an adjacent stall but before they could even begin to systematically disable their foes, the opposition ceased fire. The dust settled, five thugs were dead, one was severely incapacitated and two others escaped. Hermione couldn't retrieve useful information from their injured prisoner except for the image of a bearded wizard in a Fedora hat who she recognized as Gaunt.
"Geez, remind me not to get on your bad side these days," Dean commented as he surveyed the scene, "A bit of an overkill for loose change shakers don't you think?"
"This wasn't me," Hermione clarified.
It wasn't Dean either. Interesting.
Dean thought so too, "I don't see how anyone else could have helped us."
"That guy knows Gaunt," she told Dean pointing to the wizard she just Legilimienced, thinking possibilities, "My bet is he's behind the tax collection. Maybe he ordered the two others to make sure we won't have any prisoners."
"But that's like cutting your nose to spite your face. What hooligan will work for you if they know you have no problem killing them?"
"Doesn't make much sense, does it?" Hermione agreed as their backup finally arrived, "Hopefully Forensics can help us out."
They had no such luck. An hour later, Forensics was still drawing a blank but they took statements from witnesses and priori information from all the wands on the crime scene, including theirs. They would try to reconstruct the events that afternoon. The dead were identified as out-of-towners, young men from good middle class wizarding families without any criminal history. That was troubling.
When Hermione and Dean got back to the Ministry John called them into his office, giving them grief for the deaths and for not expecting it.
"That was my fault, John. It's usually my job to ensure the scum who want to kill us aren't killing each other too," she replied with sarcasm, irritated that she had been called into his office for the third time in two days and this last one was not warranted.
Dean sniggered, unable to contain himself. John gave them the look and sent them away to do their paperwork. As Dean complained about the lengthy reports they had to finish she thought about John's unreasonable reaction. He seemed more stressed than before and it probably had a lot to do with the up and coming Morpheus Gaunt. Her gut told her that the Wasabi Hut incident was key. She wasn't sure if Harry had already mentioned to John how interested she was about the case he and his partner were working on but considering John was quite pissed with her she couldn't ask her boss now.
Note to self...don't piss John off...more than necessary.
By the time they were finished with their reports it was dark outside. Unfortunately she'd have to wait another day to find out from Dean how he and Luna were going to work things out. There was a West Ham game on that night and Dean usually watched that over at his Mum's house with his half-brothers and their rowdy Muggle friends.
It was quarter past eight when she finally got to a packed Finnigan's. Scanning the predominantly young crowd, she found Harry at the bar, a pint in his hand, talking to a dark woman in a short skirt who was wearing a blouse two sizes too small with two missing buttons at the top. That was fitting. Bimbo Two. Harry would know better than bring a date to their meeting, wouldn't he? Her eyes rolled up on their own when she noticed at least three other groups of giggly girls about their age eyeing Harry from afar.
Just like flies...well, vultures circling.
Hermione understood. Their prey was Harry Potter, vanquisher of the darkest wizard of their time, enigmatic Auror, the epitome of what a good wizard should be, and except for having perpetually messy hair, was not bad looking at all. Admittedly, she thought he looked better with spectacles even though for practicality and safety she was the one who suggested permanently repairing his vision. She demonstrated its imperativeness by merely summoning his eyeglasses when she helped him prepare for his Auror entry exams.
Harry was no longer the scrawny kid she knew at Hogwarts for age, training and Weasley 'proper nutrition' (at least until he and Ginny broke up) had filled him in quite well in a sort of understated way. He did not have bulging muscles but one could tell underneath the dark blue sweater and jeans he had on he was lean and fit. She knew that for a fact having seen him half naked a few times.
As if all that wasn't enough, Witch's Weekly came out that morning and announced that the eligible bachelor was 'desperately seeking'. That was obviously not from Harry for even if he was desperate he would never tell everyone that he was.
Bimbo Two chortled and dipped forward into him suggestively almost spilling portions of her out. Ugh.
It was a good thing that over time she had more control of her impulsivity otherwise the image of canaries attacking and chasing the woman away would have materialized. She never thought it would be this bothersome seeing him with other women maybe because she never thought he ever would see anyone else besides Ginny. She couldn't understand why this irked her as much as the time when Ron was snogging someone else back at Hogwarts and could only conclude she was either jealous for Ginny or angry at the fact that Harry was letting this happen. Or maybe it was both.
This set off the Hag in her head again. She swore to Merlin the bitch had some sort of curse unknown to the Spell Registry that made memories about her difficult to suppress.
It is okay to care about him more than you want or more than you think is appropriate.
I don't know why you insist on flogging a dead horse. Harry and I are just friends.
I do not dispute that you are. But that does not have anything to do with what you feel. It is destiny that you do.
I already told you. I don't believe in destiny.
Ignorance does not excuse you from its eventuality. You can fight it all you want but you will never win. It's like you thinking that you want to be an Auror.
I am an Auror, in your Auror training program. Or did you forget that and had me under something else because that would explain why I haven't learned much?
You have learned more than you think but still not as much as you would have had you not resisted. You will not be an Auror for much longer. That's why for some time you haven't been training as such.
So what the fuck am I doing here?!
You tell me.
Hermione never got a satisfactory answer to the question. Soon after that conversation, she told the Hag that she no longer required further training. That was such a waste of her time, she thought, as she made her way over to him through the crowd. Harry finally spotted her, their eyes met, he smiled easily and nodded.
He's just a friend.
Harry got off the barstool, excused himself and shook hands with the woman. It was a relief that Bimbo Two wasn't staying but before he could pick up his drink from the counter the glaringly unnatural red head grabbed his hand and scribbled something on his palm. Hermione guessed phone number. Geez...
Note to self…never ever do something as chintzy as giving your number to a guy who didn't ask for it.
"Glad you finally got here," he greeted her, seemingly relieved, and handed her a screwdriver.
"Sorry I'm late. Someone you know?" she asked him about the woman, taking a big swallow to wash down the lump in her throat and the biting remark that was at the tip of her tongue.
She knew the answer to that but just wanted to see how he would respond.
"No. Someone I just met," Harry replied without much thought, just as she hoped, "Come on. I got us a table. I'm famished."
"I was thinking. You don't mind terribly if we eat somewhere else where we can talk about work, do you?"
But Harry had a better idea. They could have a quick bite to eat so Seamus wouldn't feel slighted and then go to his or her place for dessert; preferably hers as his was a mess. She was intrigued that he had to talk to her about work too.
So they sat at a corner booth, summoned one of the virtual servers and ordered when the computer generated waiter she selected appeared beside them. She found that she was hungry too and opted for steak as Harry did.
"It's really good that you're back," he said to her as they waited, slowly drawing on their drinks.
"It's good to be back."
"How did you find it?"
"Honestly?"
"That bad huh," Harry surmised accurately.
"It was frustrating and disappointing. I thought I was in hell. She's judgmental, condescending, mean and lazy. Six self study days per week? Some lesson plan. I barely saw her, and when I did she barely taught anything. Tell me it wasn't just me who noticed."
Hermione awaited confirmation.
"It wasn't just you," he supported her, found her rant entertaining and teased, "But don't hold back on account of me, please."
"And Ministries all over the world actually pay her to train Aurors?!" she continued, "Total waste and in my opinion, she wasn't worth one knut of what she was getting."
"I don't suppose you have a watered down version for the Boss."
Of course she did. She made one up for John but he never asked for it. The Hag must have already sent a report.
"I have never been in a more challenging learning environment in my entire life," she summarized for him straight faced and drew a chuckle.
"John would definitely like that version better."
"You think so, huh? You should stop looking so amused," she chastised lightheartedly, "I have a beef with you."
Several actually but it was early and she was hungry.
"What did I do?" he answered feigning worry.
"You told me the Hag taught you a lot."
When she asked him what to expect from the Hag that was his cryptic answer. He did not expound on it because he didn't want to ruin it for her.
"She did. But I never said she was pleasant about it. She's called the Hag for good reason."
Harry knew she wasn't really blaming him for that. She was handpicked by the Hag just as he was and it was an 'honor' because the Hag supposedly chose and trained only the best. Hermione would have gone no matter what Harry told her.
"Well I didn't learn as much as I thought I would."
"That's too bad but then you know a lot more than most of us. There probably wasn't much for her to teach," Harry was being kind and Hermione was convinced it wasn't that at all. He took a swig and then asked, "Why didn't you just leave sooner?"
"I wanted to a month into it but before I could tell her she called me a quitter. I stayed to prove a point," Harry was about to say something but she said it for him, "I know I walked right into that one."
Hermione sighed as she remembered how the Hag said she wasn't going to be an Auror for long. She had been too upset to ask the Hag why she thought so and not knowing made Hermione feel less confident about her skills. She kept on thinking that the Hag didn't believe she had what it took to be a good one and had made a mistake in choosing her. Harry would be biased but she had to know.
"Can I ask you something and I need you to be very honest."
"Sure."
"How am I as an Auror?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're a squad leader. If you were to evaluate my performance objectively, what would you say?"
"You're excellent."
So asking him to be objective was a little too much. She wasn't excellent; exceeds expectations maybe but not excellent.
"But…" she prompted.
Harry hesitated. There was a 'but' after all and it was big.
"I don't want you taking this the wrong way and it's just one person's opinion so I hope you don't make any rash conclusions."
"Enough with the preamble, you're scaring me. John said something really bad about me, didn't he? No? Humptail? Trussel?"
"None of that sort. Will you stop second guessing yourself? You're really good at what you do," he scolded her then added seriously, "It's just that you're wasting your time and your brilliance. You could do so much more if you weren't an Auror. Being one is in a way beneath you and it's kind of holding you back."
She frowned, "Really? I certainly don't feel that way."
"That's just my opinion and I could be way off," he shrugged, "Why are you asking anyway? Why the insecurity?"
"The Hag said I won't be an Auror for long so she didn't train me to be an Auror," she said it as emotionless as she could, feeing embarrassed about it.
"Then what the hell was she training you for?"
"I'm not sure. When I met with her most of the time she goaded me into joining philosophical discussions about the future, destiny, death, and how the use of magic can make one more prepared to face them," she sheepishly admitted her ignorance, leaving out that they talked about him a few times, "It was a whole lot of hogwash but at least now I can teach Divination at Hogwarts more competently than Professor Trelawney ever did."
Harry pointed out, "Anybody can teach Divination better than Trelawney."
"Did the Hag do the same thing with you?" she was curious.
"No. Apparently I wasn't tough enough mentally so she had me working on that," he answered reluctantly.
"New spells?"
"Not many, mostly defensive. I agreed with her that there was no sense teaching me stuff I won't ever use. She did help me improve on the ones I already know. Sorry," he apologized unnecessarily, "I can teach you what she taught me if you want."
He must have sensed the disappointment she felt about the entire experience and was offering to teach her to make her feel better. That was sweet of him. She thought about turning him down on principle but maybe she could set aside her pride for this one.
"Sounds good. Thanks. And really it's not your fault. There's no need to apologize," she replied then a thought crossed her mind and made her laugh at herself.
"What?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"I'm so stupid. I quit Trelawney's class because I couldn't stand it and somehow, ended up enduring eight months of the same crap with the Hag just to prove I wouldn't quit. Then I quit anyway. I was so much smarter then."
Then Harry laughed and laughed so hard he couldn't talk. He was practically off his seat and there were tears in his eyes. If he were any other person she would have felt a bit slighted but this was Harry and she couldn't remember ever seeing him laugh like that. Ever. He was losing it.
"It's not that funny," she felt embarrassed and amused at his reaction at the same time.
"Sorry," he apologized again as he recovered, "I have this image of you sitting with the Hag in her candle lit meditation room, in remedial Divination…"
He laughed again and this time she joined him, not so much because of what he was laughing about but more so that he was. She sensed a relief in him, like he had needed this for a long time. Once again she felt bad about not being around when he and Ginny split up.
"I miss this," he said to her.
It was not in his character but she understood the compulsion to say it. She knew what he meant. Over time since Hogwarts they had fewer and fewer such moments. They had work, other friends, and were just busier with their lives, and with Ron up North it would become even fewer.
Not pointing that out...
"I miss this too," she replied, deciding to stay with Hag talk, "So, did she look into her crystal ball and tell you your destiny?"
"She said I was better off not knowing."
"That figures," Hermione was not surprised, "She enjoys yanking everyone's chain. I doubt that she really sees anything in that ball of hers."
"Did she tell you yours?"
"She asked me if I wanted to know and I said no."
"Why?"
"I don't believe in fate."
"Even after what I went through? How could you not?"
"Well, how could you? Seriously."
"I don't mean to brag but I did fulfill a major prophecy you know," he jokingly said in a mock self important tone that made her chuckle.
"I never saw it that way."
"I am proof that Divination has its merits," he was kidding.
"It isn't fate that Voldemort is dead and you're here, trying to be funny."
"So if it wasn't fate then what was it?"
"I saw it as you and Voldemort making choices, he because he believed in it and wanted to prevent it and you because of who you were and what you knew was decent and right. The end wasn't predetermined. You had to make tough decisions along the way and your choices influenced what happened each and every time you made them."
"You don't have to kiss my ass. I'm not your boss."
"Shut up. But seriously, do you believe in fate? That what is to be is set? That we have no control over what ultimately happens in our lives?" she couldn't quite let go that he did.
"No, not really," he grinned, "I just wanted to hear you talk me out of it."
"Git!" she playfully threw him her napkin and he just laughed again as he gave it back, "So, smart mouth, what name did the Hag give you?"
Harry's face reddened. The Hag almost always never called her students by name. She had aliases for all of them, most of them tacky or distasteful, pulled out from the stupid gazing crystal of hers.
"Oh come on," Hermione prodded, encouraged.
"It's pretty bad," Harry was still flushed.
"It can't be as bad as mine."
"I doubt anything can be worse."
"Come on."
"You first."
"Absolutely not! You first!"
"Okay. Fine," Harry looked very uncomfortable, awkward, kind of cute, "She called me the 'Heartbreak Hero'."
"The what?!"
He kind of whispered it she wasn't sure she heard it right.
"Please don't make me say it again," he groaned shaking his head in shame.
It was Hermione's turn to titter. She wasn't sure which was funnier, the nickname or Harry's reaction to having had to say it.
"You're right. That's bad," Hermione responded, "I can understand 'hero' but 'heartbreak'?"
"She said I would break a lot of hearts," Harry explained, and Hermione couldn't help but notice a flitting sadness in his eyes.
Harry was obviously still not over it. Feeling sorry for him, she re-evaluated her planned questioning about Ginny. She'd have to tone it down a bit. Damn, and she liked her original speech too.
"Well, as cheesy as that sounds judging from the number of murderous looks I've received in this room since sitting with you I think the Hag was quite accurate about that one," she tried to lighten things back up. It did make him blush again, "You should be used to this attention by now."
"Frankly, I've had it. I just want it all to go away and Warren's little talk with the Witch's Weekly reporter just made it worse."
Gates had something to do with that? What an idiot!
Harry continued, "Do you think getting a pretend girlfriend would solve it?"
He looked serious and she was going to nip that stupid idea right in the bud.
"A pretend girlfriend? Were you thinking human or doll? Honestly Harry. For an Auror, you need to work on your problem solving skills."
Harry defended himself, "First of all, I doubt that this situation I'm in is a common problem Aurors would face. Secondly, short of marrying someone, how else can I stop this constant attention? I can't bloody adjust myself in public."
"You do not adjust yourself in public!" she exclaimed although careful they were the only ones who could hear, scandalized by the thought that he might have.
"That's not the point," Harry was laughing, "Now I can't, even if I wanted to."
She realized he was joking and just shook her head as she let a smile replace the shock on her face. For sure he was pulling her leg about the pretend girlfriend too.
Note to self...be a little less gullible when it comes to Harry...on the other hand...scratch that.
The virtual waiter had announced that their meals were ready if they were. Hermione was about to summon their food through their server when Harry interrupted.
"Hold on. Not so fast."
"What?"
"What did she call you?"
For a moment she thought she had gotten away with that. Drat. Now she had no choice.
"Waterloo."
"As in Napoleon's Waterloo?"
"No. As in her Waterloo. Her exact words to me when we first met were…" she paused and then used her best Hag vocal impersonation, "Oh, you're the English fucker. I've finally met my Waterloo."
"That's pretty close," Harry was impressed. If he knew how much time she killed trying to perfect it just to keep herself entertained he wouldn't be as impressed, "You didn't get along that very first meeting?"
"She said I was stubborn and would resist everything she would try to teach me. One would think being a Seer she'd foreseen that in her crystal ball before picking me and wasting our time."
"Looking on the bright side at least she didn't call you the 'English Fucker'."
"True."
"Maybe she did see something in that crystal ball of hers after all."
"What do you mean?"
"I heard from John this afternoon that she's no longer accepting trainees."
"Really."
"Something about and I quote John, 'failing to complete her last student's training objectives and failing her high standards so much so she could not in good conscience take anyone else'. It kind of pissed him off when she said the student was you."
The Hag put her in the Head Auror's doghouse indefinitely. Bitch...
"She's bloody full of it. She probably wanted to stop taking students all along and made me her convenient excuse," she retorted refusing to worry about the ramifications for now, "But I'm glad she's gone."
Hermione raised her half filled glass up.
"To the Hag. Good riddance."
Harry echoed her toast. As they had dinner they chatted about Seamus, Dean, Luna, Neville and almost everybody else they knew. Well, except for Ron or Ginny. Hermione was sure that was as obvious to Harry as it was to her.
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A/N. I figured Hermione would want to compare Hag notes with him and share her frustration and insecurities. Up next - this continued from Harry's POV. Any specific points you want them to talk about?