Author's Note: You were all so quiet last chapter. Are you still enjoying the story? I hope so. :/ There are only a few more chapters left!

Chapter Twenty

Each time Hermione was on the verge of falling asleep, her mind reminded her of a particularly disgusting or disturbing detail she'd read in the 'Operation Moonlight' file or she would remember how upset she found Fenrir in the greenhouse. It was difficult to get her mind relaxed enough that night to shut itself off. Fenrir's rhythmic breathing behind her seemed to indicate that he was one of those rare souls still able to find respite during periods of emotional turmoil. She had to fight back her jealousy that he could sleep at all.

Beyond her worry about Fenrir and how he was going to handle the revelations about his past that still left her sick to her stomach, she worried about what she was going to do next. It was tempting to ignore everything she'd learned and try to go back to pretending like it never existed. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that she would be in serious danger if she continued to expose the horrors so many had tried to keep hidden.

While she struggled to bring herself to believe that Pius might be one of them, she couldn't ignore the possibility. He was the most obvious choice. When he was told to bring the old werewolf files to her office, he tried to show her how to shrink the boxes for long-term storage. It was a subtle discouragement to reading the files, but one nonetheless. After admitting she'd read the files, he was visibly bothered. All of the warnings that she should leave well enough alone couldn't be ignored. And why did he continue to react so hostile to her each time she went back to the Archives?

Of course, he could be only one of many. Each document in the file seemed to bring another person into the conspiracy. How many would she discover were ultimately responsible? It was hard to fathom, let alone stomach. If she was able to get out of the whole ordeal alive and without a bleeding stomach ulcer, she would count herself fortunate. As it stood, she felt near constant nausea and it was only getting worse.

At least an hour before she would normally get up to get ready for work, Hermione couldn't stay in bed any longer. Fenrir continued to sleep soundly next to her, but she felt too anxious and antsy to stay still long enough to allow him. If she didn't get up, she feared she would just annoy him tossing and turning. It felt wrong to rob the man of the escape of sleep after what he'd learned the evening before. She tried to be as careful as humanly possible setting her feet on the floor.

There was no reason to linger under the hot spray of water in the shower when she was alone. Able to take a shower in a fraction of the time she had in the previous few days without Fenrir's delightful distractions, she was ready for work in almost no time. Stepping back out into the bedroom, she could tell he had hardly moved. His breathing was still slow. She continued to be as quiet as she could as she tiptoed out of the room. He deserved his escape from reality.

When she stared again at the file still laying across the kitchen table, Hermione didn't know what her next moves were. Perhaps a more rational person would've just hidden the file again, moved on with their lives, and tried to forget its existence, but it was personal to her now. Not only because of Fenrir, though he was understandably a large part, she thought about all of the poor people she'd known or read about who were affected by the damned program. Too many of them were killed unnecessarily. It was wrong to forget them, to allow their deaths to remain meaningless.

She knew it was wrong to remove the files from the Ministry building. Possibly even illegal. When the files she was given by Pius were removed from the Ministry Archives, they were no longer required to remain inside the building. She wouldn't get in any trouble if anyone found out she removed those files. But the one that she signed out of the Archives? She could be in serious trouble. That didn't matter. It wasn't safe there.

Magic had yet to cease impressing her after so many years. With just a few spells she was able to duplicate everything inside the hidden file. Even the pages and scrolls she hadn't yet read were copied. Satisfied with the copy, she returned all of the originals to the original file. She didn't want to take it back to the Ministry. If someone were to find out it existed, they might destroy it and she wouldn't have the proof she needed to expose the crimes of 'Operation Moonlight'.

There was enough space in one of Fenrir's largest pots in the greenhouse to dig a hole big enough to hide the file. Once it was covered with dirt and the pot looked as if it hadn't been disturbed, she could relax a little. If the only place she felt truly safe was in his house, surely the file would be safe there too. Until the scandal was all over, she wouldn't let anyone have the originals.

Fenrir stood just inside the greenhouse when she made her way back to the door. Glad that he hadn't been just a little bit earlier, she greeted him with a kiss and pretended everything was perfectly normal. She wanted to be able to give him plausible deniability. If he didn't know the file was out in his greenhouse, he wouldn't be forced to reveal it even under the most rigorous of interrogations. She hoped it would never come to that.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Just admiring your work. It's beautiful out here. I didn't want to wake you up."

If he didn't believe her, he had enough sense to keep his thoughts to himself. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her again. She couldn't help but be reminded about the inappropriate thoughts she'd had the day before about surprising him in his greenhouse.

"You should take the day off and stay here all day."

"I would love to, but I can't. I'm too far behind with my work. It's been neglected as I've looked for answers about 'Operation Moonlight'."

It was only half-true. She had been pushing off her real work, but she certainly wasn't behind. If anything, she could focus solely on studying the disgusting files for months before she was truly behind.

After an unusually quiet breakfast, Fenrir stopped Hermione with a hand on her arm from leaving the kitchen. She could tell that he'd had something on his mind since he found her in the greenhouse. Worried about what it might be, she tried not to let her mind wander to the worst-case scenario.

"Do you think it would be inappropriate for me to pay a visit to Lyall Lupin? I think I would like to hear about this damned program from his mouth."

"I don't know if it's inappropriate, but I don't think it really matters. You have a right to face one of the men who played such a big part in what happened to you."

She wasn't sure if she was relieved by his question or further worried. Taking Fenrir to see Lyall could open up an entirely new set of problems. Would the wizard be able to keep it silent that the werewolf that was their biggest success was still alive? How would he react to him showing up at his front door? Despite knowing that he was responsible for his part in what happened to his own son, Lyall might want to take retribution out on Remus' attacker. So many things could go wrong, but she couldn't deny that Fenrir had a right to face him.

"I will send Lyall an owl today that I want to visit him again and I'll be bringing a dear friend. We will go tomorrow."

He seemed almost relieved that she agreed. Kissing her at the front door, he wished her a good day. It all felt so very normal living in his house, wishing each other a good day at work. She'd never really experienced a relationship so domestic. It was something she was sure she could get very used to.

Thanks both to an early start and no distractions in the shower, Hermione was able to arrive at her office before Robert. She couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling she had being in the room alone and wished he would hurry up and arrive. Never before had she felt such unease there. Even though it was tucked away in the most undesirable corner in the entire building and made Arthur Weasley's tiny office in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office seem like an absolute palace, she'd always felt comfortable there.

Another small scroll rested in the middle of her desk that she knew for sure hadn't been there the day before. Who kept coming into her office when she wasn't there? It was unnerving. She reached for the scroll, ignoring the slight trembling in her hands. Once again the handwriting was unfamiliar, likely written using a spell.

Stop looking. We don't want to hurt you, Hermione, but we will if you continue.

She didn't even have to wonder if they meant what they said. Deep in her bones she knew she was in danger if she kept searching. Her resolve to continue began to waver. Would it really do any good if she didn't drop the investigation? As far as she was aware in her cursory reading of the original files, Fenrir was likely the only werewolf still alive. Even if 'Operation Moonlight' was exposed for all of its heinous brutality, it wouldn't bring the others back alive.

It only took her a matter of a few seconds before her Gryffindor courage dispelled the last of her worries that she was making a mistake. For whatever reason, she had the knowledge of the program dropped in her lap. It was wrong to worry more about her safety than doing what was right. Once more she was glad that she hid the original files.

Without Robert in the office with her and after reading the ominous note, Hermione didn't feel safe there. Located so far away from any other Ministry official's office, she thought it would be best to get out of there until she could be assured she wouldn't be caught by herself. Remembering the owl she promised that she would send, she chose to head for one of the busier parts of the Ministry where there would be plenty of witnesses if someone tried to approach her.

The Ministry owlery had at least half a dozen people in there when she stepped inside. Feeling more confident that she was safe amongst numbers, she scribbled out a note to Lyall announcing she would be returning. It felt rude telling him she would coming instead of asking, but she didn't think he would be open to extending an invitation. At least she could offer him some warning that he would have visitors.

One step out of the owlery and she bumped straight into Iain again. Annoyed with her rotten luck, Hermione tried to step around him. She wasn't in the mood for another conversation with him. They hadn't spoken alone since the Muggle was killed in her bedroom. He stepped in her way to prevent her escape. Clearly it wasn't just an innocent or accidental meeting. A glance at his face proved he was in one of his agitated moods of which she was unfortunately quite familiar.

"Why weren't you at home last night?"

"That's none of your business, Iain. Please let me pass."

He wouldn't.

"I was worried about you last night so I went to check on you."

"I was perfectly fine. It's unnecessary and inappropriate for you to check up on me."

"Were you with that Clark Smith person again?"

Jealousy was never a becoming trait. Not on anyone. One of the biggest failures of their past relationship was Iain's incessant jealousy. Not necessarily just jealousy about other men who might be interested in Hermione, but jealousy of her time as well. He wanted to be with her more than she did him. Needing solitude in order to recharge, she liked being alone. He could never understand it.

"He's lying to you about his real identity, you know."

"Iain…"

"No, it's true. I looked him up. Couldn't find anything about a wizard herbologist named Clark Smith. There was someone who was named Hezekiah Clark Smith, but he was born in 1930. Is your new boyfriend seventy-eight?"

The question was asked in a mocking tone she loathed. Hermione was nervous that he was getting too close to the truth. What if he was able to link Fenrir with his real name? She couldn't imagine the absolute nightmare that would create. Feeling defensive, she puffed up her chest and pointed her finger at her ex-boyfriend like he was nothing more than a naughty child.

"Let's get something very clear, Iain. You have no right to look up anyone I'm involved with. My personal life is none of your business. We aren't together anymore and we never will be again. And besides, what does age even matter?"

Iain's voice got softer.

"Do you need money, love? Are you in some sort of trouble? This Smith bloke was the only heir to a sizable fortune. You never seemed the sort of witch to be attracted to the size of a man's vault."

"And I'm not. How dare you?"

Completely offended that he would imply she would ever be interested in a man solely because of the amount of money he had, she pushed him out of her way. Each step she took away from him only increased the level of her anger. She was half-tempted to turn back around and seek Iain out again just to hex him straight to his bollocks. What was his problem? Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

Part of the reason she knew she was so frustrated with her ex was because she knew she was in danger too. He might've had a sixth sense that she was, but she didn't need it. She had the parchment in her pocket to prove she was. What was she going to do? Giving up wasn't an option.

There was one person that she trusted implicitly who knew what it was like to face danger for no other reason than it was the right thing to do. Instead of returning to her office, Hermione took the lift to Level Two. She hoped that it wasn't one of those mornings when Harry struggled to get out of the house. With two small boys and a new baby arriving any day, he had his hands full.

"Good morning, Hermione. This is a lovely surprise."

Harry was just entering his office when she arrived. He kissed her cheek and ushered her inside. As soon as she was seated in the chair she normally used, she knew she had made the right decision. Unsure what exactly she was going to tell him, she felt that he would at least be able to point her in the right direction or confirm that she wasn't wrong. His smile slipped but didn't disappear entirely when she coated the entire office with silencing spells.

"Please tell me you don't have another dead Muggle in your house."

When she didn't laugh or even crack a smile, all hints that he was joking disappeared. She knew him well enough to recognize he was worried.

"Harry, I might be in some trouble and I'm not sure what to do."

"You don't have a plan? That doesn't sound like you."

She wasn't in the mood to be teased. Recognizing the same once the words were out of his mouth, Harry cleared his throat.

"What's going on, Hermione? I'm worried about you."

"I think the Muggle that attacked me was under the Imperius Curse."

"That's impossible. That kind of magic used on a Muggle wouldn't go unnoticed. Someone in the Improper Use of Magic office would've been alerted."

Before she could continue describing her concerns, Hermione needed to take a deep breath. How much could she tell Harry without pulling him down into the mess with her? She wasn't as worried about herself. If something happened to her, a handful of people would be sad, but they'd be able to move on. He had a family that loved him dearly. Besides, hadn't he already sacrificed enough for their world?

"I know this all sounds crazy, Harry. I really do, but all of the security wards were removed from my house that night. A Muggle couldn't have done that. Only a wizard or a witch could've."

"Are you certain they were still active?"

"Of course. They get checked every single night. When I went to bed, they were active. After I was attacked, I couldn't find a trace they'd ever been there. They were just gone."

"Who would want to hurt you so badly? What's really going on?"

Usually it was all too easy to joke about Harry being notoriously unobservant, but he had his moments when he was more perceptive than he used to be. The older he grew, the more he learned. She couldn't keep him away from the truth for long. If she wanted his help or at minimum didn't want him to interfere, she had to give him some version of it that he would accept. He didn't have to know everything, but he did have to know something.

"I'm not exactly sure who wants to hurt me. It's complicated."

"Simplify it for me."

"I found out about a secret Ministry program regarding werewolves. It was supposedly from years ago, but I know it operated at least through the end of the war. It's… Harry, it's terrible. I've been warned that I needed to stop digging or I'd get hurt. The warnings have been anonymous, but unsettling enough."

She slid the scroll she'd received that morning across his desk. His eyes widened when he read it.

"Hermione, we need to take this straight to Kingsley."

"No, we don't. I don't think we need to involve him in it."

"Yes, we do."

Harry wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Once the scroll was in his hand, he wouldn't let it go. After using his free hand to pull Hermione out of his office, he practically dragged her straight to the Minister's office. Arriving with the Head of the Auror Office who also just happened to be the Chosen One provided Hermione more than her usual clout. Gemma didn't even try to turn them away.

When they were escorted into Kingsley's office, he was both surprised and concerned. Whatever report he'd been reading was quickly tossed to the side of his desk. He gestured to his new visitors to take a seat across from him. Harry didn't release his grip on his friend until she was seated.

"What's going on here, Harry?"

"Sir, I apologize for barging in here on short notice, but we have a problem." He handed the scroll to Kingsley. "Hermione is in some trouble. We think the Muggle attacking her in her bedroom is all related."

Just as Harry was a few minutes earlier, Kingsley was visibly unnerved by the contents of the scroll. He kept looking up at Hermione and back down to the scroll as if the answers to all of his questions would somehow magically appear on the parchment.

"Hermione, would you care to explain what this is about?"

She was trapped. Nothing but the truth would be enough for either of the men. When she considered her options, she knew there was no way she could keep lying. Maybe she didn't have to tell them everything, but she knew she couldn't leave without answering some of their questions. It should've brought her some small level of comfort confiding in the two men she'd trusted her life to on multiple occasions. For whatever reason, it didn't. She feared that if she revealed too much she might be inadvertently putting Fenrir in danger.

"I've learned more about 'Operation Moonlight', Kingsley, and I'm afraid to say it's much more terrible and frightening than I could've ever imagined."

"But how does this threatening message come into play?"

"I'm not sure who left it for me, but knowing what I know about what happened here so many years ago, it's not exactly surprising that those involved would be anxious to keep it a secret."

Nothing could explain better than the files she'd found. Relieved that she'd had the presence of mind to make copies of the files before she let them out of her possession for even a moment, Hermione handed over the copies. Kingsley was able to open it easily without needing the password. There hadn't been time or even a need to add the password to the copies.

It didn't take him long to grasp the significance of the documents he held. Scanning through the file, his eyes just kept getting wider and wider. Several minutes passed of awkward silence as he perused the files. Each second that passed made her even more anxious to rush out of the office. It felt like a huge mistake to bring two more people into the secret. What if she was responsible for either one of them getting injured? Or worse? If the participants and those affected directly by the atrocities were to get wind that their secret was even more widely known, they might not show mercy. When Kingsley had enough for the present and appeared as if he was going to be physically ill, he laid the parchment in his hand back on his desk.

"You found this in the Archives?"

There was a note a surprise and disbelief in his voice as the Minister asked the simple question. She wouldn't lie. Telling him 'yes', but not explaining that the files were hidden in another file, she felt a righteous anger well up inside her again.

"We have to show this to the Wizengamot, Kingsley. They need to know what happened before the war and the public has a right to know too. The Ministry killed dozens, at least, of innocent werewolves. It's depraved and disgusting, but we can't keep it hidden any longer."

Curious what the file contained while she was speaking, Harry picked up the first scrap of parchment he could reach form his chair. He also looked sick the more he read. It pained Hermione to think how knowing about Remus' past would affect her friend. He looked to the werewolf as an uncle, almost like another father. Learning that the poor man's life was ruined because of his father's cruelty might be too much for her tenderhearted friend.

"Revealing it all will be a scandal and quite embarrassing for the Ministry, Kingsley, but it's the right thing to do. Some of these werewolves had families that didn't even know they were bitten or why they never came home. If we can offer them some sort of closure, we should. It's not right to keep this a secret."

"I will be keeping these files until further notice."

"But, Kingsley…"

"No. If you are in some kind of danger because of this, I'm going to end it right now. You are forbidden to keep researching 'Operation Moonlight'. Just until I can be assured of your safety."

She wanted to argue with the Minister about his decision, but she knew it would be no use. He had the necessary power to pull the investigation out of her hands. While it should have given her some small measure of relief that she was no longer responsible, she felt almost bereft leaving the files. What would happen if he chose to bury the truth? She knew he had enough to worry about already without the added stress of a highly immoral program from years earlier.

"Please be very careful, Hermione. And I meant what I said, leave the rest of the investigation to me. You are forbidden from doing any further research."

With the repetition of his orders, she knew she couldn't even pretend to have not heard them. Kingsley meant what he said. When pressed, he was as stubborn as any other Gryffindor she'd ever known. Outside in the corridor a couple of minutes later, Harry seemed relieved to be out of there.

"You might not agree, Hermione, but I think Kingsley made the right decision. If you're getting threatening messages because of this 'Operation Midnight'…"

"Moonlight."

"… then you need to stop. You're not trained for this."

"During the war…"

"You did what was necessary to survive, but you didn't go looking for trouble. Who does that sound like?"

Even in such a tense moment she was able to smile at his self-deprecation. Yes, there had been a time in his life when he desired nothing more than to seek out the trouble that would've found him eventually anyway. A lot had changed once the war ended and he grew up. While she knew without a single doubt that the old Harry would be at her side fighting the injustice for the werewolves, he was no longer in a position where he could do so safely. His family's security was much more important than getting retribution for strangers that had been dead for years. She couldn't blame him. If the circumstances of her own life were different, she'd likely feel the same way.

"I want to know the second you receive another message like that, Hermione."

"I'm sure it's not going to happen again."

"But if it does, you are to inform me at once. Do you need me to post an Auror at your house?"

"Absolutely not. I can take care of myself."

Harry looked as if he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. He would know better than most how futile it would be to try to get her to change her own mind. When they reached the lifts, he reminded her again to be careful before turning towards the stairs. It never made much sense to him to take the lift for just one level. Hermione was glad to have a break from the concern when she stepped inside.

The lift stopped to open on Level Two. Hoping to be alone for her entire trip down to Level Nine, Hermione was annoyed when someone decided to step inside. Recognizing Nanette Desford, the witch from the Improper Use of Magic office, she felt even more so. It annoyed her to know that there were women like Miss Desford who would take advantage of werewolves for their own pleasure. Robert deserved much better than the likes of that woman and if she was pressed, she wouldn't mind saying so.

"Good morning, Miss Granger."

"Miss Desford."

It was impossible to miss the chill in Hermione's voice. Nanette, by all reports a fairly shy, unremarkable witch, turned away with red cheeks. Her eyes focused on the floor, no doubt wishing she was alone in the lift too. Just moments before the lift was to open on Level Seven, Nanette's chosen destination, she plucked up enough courage to look back up and address Hermione directly.

"Robert always spoke so highly of you. I know that he respects your opinions very much. I'm sure this is inappropriate, but I'm going to ask anyway. Do you know why he's avoiding me? I thought we got along very nicely and I certainly enjoyed myself, but…"

"You're right. This isn't appropriate. I can't answer that question, Miss Desford, but you might want to consider how your selfish actions can affect other people in the future."

The witch bristled under the criticism. Her cheeks reddened again, though Hermione suspected it wasn't embarrassment or shyness. She seemed very angry.

"I can't imagine how you would think that my actions were selfish where it came to Robert. I care about him a great deal. Did you know that I fancied him at Hogwarts? He didn't know I existed, but I did. When I saw him at the Ministry after he started working here, I wanted to ask him out so many times. When he finally asked me a few weeks ago, I was so excited I couldn't sleep the night before our date. I don't care that he's a werewolf. Not one bit. He's kind and sweet and funny and I was ready to start planning a future with him. But he asked me for a rather large favor that I didn't feel comfortable with and the moment I did it, he brushed me off and told me to leave him alone. Now, please tell me which of us was the selfish one in that relationship, Miss Granger?"

There was no time to answer the question as the lift doors opened and Nanette rushed out. Thankful to be alone again, Hermione was annoyed that the conversation left her with more questions. What exactly was Robert up to that had the other witch so upset? He claimed that Nanette was only interested in finding out what werewolves were like in bed, but that description didn't seem to match the passionate woman who claimed she'd fancied him for years and didn't care whether or not he was a werewolf. Not for the first time she realized how little she actually knew about her assistant. He was something of a mystery even after years of working together.

Her thoughts were back on the implications of Kingsley's order that she stop looking into 'Operation Moonlight' when she exited the lift on Level Nine and began to long walk down the corridor to the stairs that would take her down to Level Ten. Just past the Department of Mysteries, she heard raised voices coming from inside the stairwell. Curious, she sped up to find out what was happening. All she could hear was the rumblings of a disagreement between two men.

"You're a right bastard, you know that, Proudfoot?"

At the bottom of the stairs Hermione found Robert standing just centimeters away from Iain's face. Both men were red-faced and furious. When her presence was noticed, Iain spun on his heel and huffed his way up the stairs, never once even looking at his ex. Likewise, Robert turned towards their office. She had to jog to catch up with him.

"What was all of that about?"

"Nothing important. Your ex is an arsehole."

"I'm aware. Are you sure everything is all right?"

He wouldn't answer. Not even when they were back inside the privacy of their own office. Whatever she'd walked up on had been nasty and heated. Though Robert never seemed to have much use for Iain even when they were dating, she'd never heard him say a single negative word to the other man. And what was Iain doing back down on their level again anyway? Why couldn't he just wander away and leave them all alone? Surely he had enough work of his own to do.

"I had an interesting conversation with Miss Desford in the lift just now."

That was enough to get Robert's attention. With cheeks flushed again, he tried to focus on a report. She wasn't sure if he was embarrassed or angry. After a few seconds, he pushed the report away and looked her in the eye.

"Nanette has no business talking to you about anything related to me. Did she tell you that I was mean to her and used her and then told her to leave me alone?"

"Well… yes, she did. What sort of favor did you ask of her? She seemed very upset when she mentioned it."

"It was nothing important. She shouldn't have said anything about it."

Something about the way he was trying to avoid the question made her uncomfortable. Was he hiding something? The bizarre conversation with Nanette coupled with the near-shouting match she walked up on between him and Iain made for a very surprising day and it had only just begun. What else would she discover?

In the end, Hermione decided he deserved to have his own privacy. It wasn't her business to know all of his secrets. There could be any number of favors he might ask of the witch. Just because she was up to her eyeballs in research about a depraved and quite literal murderous Ministry program didn't mean that everything was a conspiracy. And as much as she wanted to press him for answers about why he was fighting with Iain, she knew that he was more likely to tell her if she was patient and waited for him to pick the right moment. Maybe it was as simple as Iain wasn't watching where he was walking or he asked a question about Robert's boss that wasn't anyone's business.

Without having the 'Operation Moonlight' file to peruse, the rest of the day passed relatively quietly, but an element of tension lingered under the surface. Starting off the day with the warning didn't help matters. When she would focus on one of the cases she'd been preparing to strike down another unfair werewolf restriction, her mind would invariably wander to all of the possibilities of potential danger. Who wanted to hurt her if she kept looking? It felt like the war all over again. She didn't miss those days.

She was thankful for the end of the work day. For someone who was usually so enamored with her own work, Hermione thought she could finally understand why there were so many other Ministry officials who looked for any excuse to leave the office early. Her life shouldn't be completely consumed by her career. That was a lesson she knew that she needed to fully learn.

Fenrir was nowhere to be found outside of the Ministry building. Usually she could feel his presence the moment she stepped into the cold air. A scan of the surroundings proved he wasn't there. Had something happened? She feared that he would go out looking for those who were involved in the program. Maybe he remembered more than he let on. If he got himself injured or worse exposed, it would all be her fault. Without her pushing her way into his life, he wouldn't be in any danger.

Anxious to find him, she knew to look in his greenhouse first. Only when she saw him standing over a robust Shrivelfig plant with his dragonhide gloves on did she fully relax. His attention was focused on removing the dead leaves. Hermione walked towards him, stopping a few steps away to lean against another table. Herbology might not be a favorite subject of hers, but she was fascinated with watching him work. She didn't speak until he clipped the last of the leaves, looked up to see her, and smiled.

"I was worried when I didn't see you waiting for me outside of the Ministry."

Fenrir pulled a watch on a chain out of his pocket. Usually it was easy to forget he was nearly eighty until he did something so adorably old-fashioned.

"I lost track of time, but it looks like you're early. Most nights you're there another hour at least."

Hermione closed the distance between them to kiss him. At once she felt calm and all of the stresses and worries of the day were soon forgotten. The man had a delightfully intoxicating effect on her senses she could get used to. When she was in his arms, she didn't worry about the world outside.