Living, Ever After

Chapter One

"You cannot do this to me," said a disgruntled Hermione Granger; even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew that not only could they do it, but that they most certainly would. She took little solace that the man behind the desk looked uncomfortably sheepish.

"Ah, you see, Ms. Granger, this came straight from the Minister himself…"

She arched her eyebrows at him; her favourite 'who do you think you're kidding' expression. "Well, I guess it is urgent that I speak with the Minister about this unfortunate mix-up."

The man opened his mouth in a likely attempt to explain that it was not a mistake of any kind, but shut it quickly. Smart man, she thought, even if the gesture had reminded her strangely of a fish struggling to breathe.

"Ms. Granger, I cannot just let you in to see the Minister. He is a very busy man."

"And I cannot let you transfer me to another department with absolutely no explanation as to why. I am in the middle drafting a revolutionary piece of legislation and this process cannot be interrupted by such silly notions as a transfer," Hermione countered. The man was starting to look increasingly flustered.

"I have no say in this. I was merely told to inform you of the change."

"And now I am informed. I am also left wondering why you are doing the informing when I don't even know your name. Were all of my immediate superiors too busy to handle this delicate matter?"

"Richard Greenly," said the man, "my name is Richard Greenly." His face was now an unattractive red color. "Like I said, I don't usually handle transfers. I'm just an aide."

Hermione gave a feral smile. "Yes, and I apologize. I'm sure you understand that I don't want to be a bother, but this is extremely important." She knew that she had to stay calm, but inside was seething. She felt her fingers twitch for her wand, but she managed to stop herself. She doubted that hexing Mr. Greenly would have a desirable outcome. Waving her wand around menacingly may work on Ron, but would not get her in to see the Minister. Not without being arrested afterwards, anyway.

However, Hermione knew that her smiles had a magic all of their own. There was something about her straight white teeth that made people stop and listen to her. Or, she thought wryly, it may just be the crazy gleam in my eyes. Mr. Greenly gulped. His eyes flicked to the Minister's door and then back to her face. Hermione knew that he was considering her request, and now she just had to give him a little nudge. She gave an exaggerated sigh, "Oh, Mr. Greenly, it's just awful."

"Yes, yes, I agree. Just awful," he echoed, cowering in his seat.

Hermione tried to ignore that he seemed to be a tab bit frightened. This confused her slightly; she hadn't even tried to frighten him. Yet. Then again, Ron often pointed out that she looked like a deranged harpy when she didn't get her way. Hermione hadn't even bothered to argue with this. Ron could be insensitive, and it seemed that time was not going to change that. The fact that she hadn't hexed him into oblivion was the only thing that convinced her that it was 'true love' and not some left over teenage romanticism.

"You see, the Minister and I are old friends. Further attempts to deny me access will be detrimental to your well being," she hissed. Now she was trying to be scary.

"Are you threatening me?" The man sounded shocked.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "There is something you need to know about me, Mr. Greenly. I do not threaten. I am merely informing you of the consequences of your actions."

Mr. Greenly took out his wand and grumbled something under his breath. A moment later the tip of his wand flared blue. Mr. Greenly stared down on it in distaste. "The Minister will see you now, Ms. Granger."

"Thank you, Mr. Greenly. You've been ever so helpful," she replied, smiling for real this time. She was certain that Minister Shacklebolt would be able to sort this whole mess out and that she would be able to return to her office shortly.

"You're welcome," said Mr. Greenly, in a voice that indicated that she was anything but.

As Hermione walked away, she may have heard a muttered, "I don't get paid enough for this." Or, that may have just been her imagination.

"Hermione, it's good to see you," said one Kinsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic. The Ministership, Hermione noted, had not been good to him. His face had become heavily etched with lines since the end of the Second War. So much so, that he looked like he was perpetually frowning. His eyebrows had gone completely white, and his skin had taken on a greyish tinge. He looked smaller than she remembered. "Though I suppose this isn't a social call."

"Well, Minister…"

"Kingsley, please," he said, warmly. "We've been through too much for such formalities."

Hermione allowed herself to relax. "Kingsley, then."

He gave her a small smile. "And what is it that I can help you with."

"You see, Min…ah, Kingsley, it started when I came into work this morning and was told to report to your office. Then, I am sure you can imagine my surprise when your assistant tells me that I've just been transferred to the Department of Mysteries, of all places."

"I've never seen someone get so upset at the idea of a promotion."

"I am quite happy in my current position, I assure you." And Hermione was. Sure, life in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures wasn't glamorous. If anything, it was the exact opposite. It was a thankless job that often left Hermione feeling that she could get more accomplished by banging her head repeatedly against her desk. Change was slow and victories were few and far between, but when they came… oh, but when they came.

"Yes, and I've been told by several people that no one works with more fervour than you, but we feel that your talents are being wasted."

Hermione's head snapped up and she very deliberately met the Minister's gaze. "I assure you that working to protect those creatures that cannot protect themselves is not the least bit a waste of my talents."

"Of course not," said the Minister, smoothing over what he was must have realized was a faux pas. Hermione could practically see the gears spinning in his head. "To be honest, this transfer is more of a temporary measure. That is to say, that there is one specific case in which I feel your input would be invaluable."

Hermione could not help it; her curiosity was piqued. She found herself leaning forward in interest. "And what would that be?"

"I have heard you are intimately familiar with the workings of a Time-Turner."

Hermione frowned. "Yes, but they were all destroyed years ago. I don't see how it is relevant."

Kingsley went quiet for a moment. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Yes, they were destroyed. However, recently there have been a few documents uncovered. I have it on very good authority that with the right set of minds, these documents could lead to the recreation of Time -Turners."

"Do you think that is wise, Minister?" Hermione asked. Part of her was horrified that they were even considering this, but another part was just aching for a chance to get her hands on those parchments. Her heart quickened in excitement. Oh, it would be a challenge. A very tricky bit of magic, likely involving advanced theory in Artimancy and Charms and, if she was lucky, a little bit of Ancient Runes. It had been a long time since she had a purely academic pursuit, not since her NEWTs, years ago. If she were being honest with herself, she missed it. Still, she couldn't let herself be drawn in. There were more important things she had to do.

"Time-Turners have always been tightly regulated by the Ministry. If they were recreated that would not change," said Kingsley. "They have existed for centuries with only a few minor mishaps."

Horror stories about the consequences of misusing a Time-Turner flashed through her mind. Hermione resisted the urge to snort. Mishaps indeed. "I'm sorry, but I must decline. I'm working on something very important at the moment…"

"Yes, yes. Your House Elf Protection Act, I am aware of it. Everybody is. I also know you are having trouble getting anybody to look at it, and that it has failed to pass the last five times you have presented it."

Hermione tried to keep a cool demeanour, but she could tell from the heat rushing to her cheeks that she was less than successful. "Well, yes. It is not exactly a popular piece of legislation. If I remember correctly, you are in no great hurry to help, either. This is very important to me and I will not abandon it just because I have run into a few difficulties. Furthermore…"

Kingsley put up his hand. "That is quiet enough. I see we are at an impasse so I propose an arrangement."

"What sort of arrangement?"

"You will work on this project for a year's duration, or until you are successful, and afterward you can return to your former position."

Hermione frowned. "And what else? Surely that is not everything you are planning on offering?"

"As well," Kingsley continued, after a moment's pause, "I will formally support your House Elf Protection Act. I cannot promise you that that will make a difference, but it may help it pass."

Hermione's hope began to grow. She had come so close last time. She had just needed a few more votes and then it would have made into law. Kingsley's support just might make all the difference. Without his help it might take another five years to achieve her goal, if he supported her, House Elves would have their rights this time next year. Sneaky, she thought, him offering her something she wouldn't turn down. A raise she would have dismissed, but achieving her dream of protecting helpless creatures? It would be selfish not to accept.

However, Hermione's continued silence must have unnerved Kingsley because there was one last thing he was prepared to offer her.

"Of course," said Kingsley, "I will ensure that the incident you caused with the Werewolves doesn't come back to haunt you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione said, perfectly aware what he was talking about, "but I've already destroyed that evidence."

"I didn't hear that, but are you sure?" Kinsley asked.

Hermione was sure, but she wasn't about to risk her career on it. "I think we have a deal Minister."

She put out her hand and they shook on it.

The incident with the Werewolves hadn't been her fault.

Okay, that was a lie. It had been mostly her fault. But not completely, she affirmed to herself. That had been her mantra in the days that had followed.

"It's mostly my fault, but not completely."

She repeated it silently to herself often. Mostly she muttered it under her breath as she frantically destroyed any evidence pointing to her involvement. There hadn't been too much; from the outset she had known that her actions weren't exactly legal.

But it had been necessary. Sure Voldemort's control of the Ministry had lasted less than a year, but it had caused an untold amount of problems. Kingsley had had a fun time trying to sort out that mess. After all, the laws passed by the Ministry during that time were surprising declared legal by the Wizagamont. Not that they were enforced, but that didn't mean that they didn't have to be repealed.

However, with so many laws there were bound to be oversights. There was one law that no one had bothered to have repealed because for the longest time no one had knew it existed. It was horrid, and when Hermione had read it for the first time her only thought was: I bet that was written by Umbridge.

And it had been. Titled "Provisions for the Control of Humanoid Wolves," the act was little more than the legalization of genocide. According to the act Werewolves were not to be considered humans- that wasn't really shocking to Hermione, but it didn't make her any less furious.

The law was the standard bunch of hate-filled hogwash. It was illegal to hire Werewolves, to rent them apartments, sell them things, etc. However, the most upsetting was the provision making it legal to kill Werewolves and then take in the bodies to receive payment from the Ministry.

Of course, when she had realized that this law existed she went to have it overturned right away. And then she had been stonewalled. There had been this particularly nasty piece of work- Henry Greengrass- who did everything in his power to make sure that it was not. Hermione was fairly sure that he was paying people to hunt down and kill Werewolves in order to collect the money which the Ministry paid automatically.

Still, with the help of Harry and Ron, she offered protection to all those Werewolves who asked (and some who didn't, but that was okay because legally it wasn't considered kidnapping. Ironic, really). She even went so far as to smuggle a few of them out of the country. Hermione had also ensured that Henry Greengrass was prevented from voting on the repeal of the legislation. This may or not have involved a portkey hidden on his desk that may or may not have transported him to an undisclosed location that may or may not have been in the middle of a volcano. Hermione thought that this was pretty lenient- her first choice had been the inside of an erupting volcano.

Of course, as soon as the law was overturned, there had been riots in the streets. No one was hurt, but there had been a lot of property damage. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that more than a few of those individuals had been placed under the Imperius Curse, although that was, of course, impossible to prove once it had been lifted. Hermione had spent days going around muttering under her breath, "You'd think they have a spell to test for that now." But there wasn't. So even though she had gotten what she worked for- saved lives even!- all her work was placed under intense scrutiny and there had been talks of an inquiry…

That hadn't manifested, though she knew that Henry Greengrass was still searching for her involvement in the whole incident. She knew that he wasn't likely to give up either. Of course, there was always the extremely miniscule chance that he would find something that connected her to her multitude of (well executed) crimes. Still, Hermione was confident that Kingsley would keep up his side of the bargain and if something should happen to turn up he would sweep it quietly under the rug.

Hermione went home more relieved than she had been in months.

That relief didn't last long.

"Ron, what in the world is all of this?" Hermione asked apprehensively. She eyed his impeccable dress robes, and the flowers that he proffered.

"Surprise!" he said with a toothy grin. "Happy anniversary!"

That's what Hermione had feared. She startled when she realized she was biting her bottom lip. She had been so sure she had broken that habit, but as the iron taste of blood filled her mouth she had rather guessed not.

"Honestly, Ron- I told you that you shouldn't make such a big deal of it."

"Aw, come on Hermione, we never go out anymore. Aside from that it's a special occasion. I made reservations at that restaurant you like."

You mean the restaurant you like, Hermione thought grimly. She knew better than to voice such thoughts out loud. It just led to needless arguments. She let out a deep breath. Okay, she could do this. After all, it was dinner with the man she loved on the anniversary of their first official date. They didn't celebrate the day of their first kiss for obvious reasons. This should be something she enjoyed, and not something that filled her with a near unspeakable dread.

"Fine Ron, let me just get ready and then we can go."

"Perfect." Ron's grin spread wider.