Chapter Text
In a quaint little cottage that was situated in an idyllic spot in Greater London, there began to stir the first signs of life as a radio alarm beckoned in a new day.
‘When you can't find the music
To get down and boogie
All you can do is step back in time
Ball of confusion
When nothing is new
And there's nothing doin'
Step back in time’
‘That was Kylie with her epic classic, Step back in time. This is your host, Martin Driver, and this is Funk FM. It’s just gone half seven, and the sun is already shining and should continue to shine on this glorious Friday. Traffic in the capital is typically all hustle and bustle. If you can change your route to avoid the roadworks on the-’
Hermione Granger turned off the radio and rose from her slumber with a superior smile playing on her lips and a languid stretch. Today was the day she would be informed of her promotion at the ministry. She was a dead cert to become the next deputy head of the Department of Magical Law. Her best male friend, Harry Potter, now the Head Auror, had written her a most splendid recommendation. She had naturally assisted him with his written linguistics, and he had produced a veritable masterpiece highlighting all her best attributes.
The Gryffindor hugged herself. She had challenged herself all her life. All those hours of study in the library had finally paid off. She had aced her N.E.W.T.S., achieving the highest grades since Dumbledore had been a student at Hogwarts and had left her academic competitors in the dust.
She’d even found the time to assist Harry in defeating a Dark Lord and vanquishing evil from their world.
Hermione had even been given the honour of being featured on the packaging for chocolate frogs enjoyed by the youth and adults with a sweet tooth. Not that she paid much attention to such frivolous commercial escapades, but it was always nice to be appreciated by the general public. Those chocolate eaters would be future voters, and it was vital she maintained a positive image in her quest to be top dog.
An illustrious career path at the Ministry had beckoned, and once again, she had surpassed herself. She assisted the law enforcement team in numerous investigations. She had gathered vital evidence at crime scenes and had helped amend wizarding law to be fairer and more just.
Her attention to detail meant no stone was left unturned. Various criminal witches and wizards had been arrested because of her meticulous research abilities. Tax evasion was a common practice in the wizarding world and one that Hermione took very seriously.
There was also her ongoing campaign to ensure rights for house elves.
She nudged the dead weight that was lying beside her.
‘Ron. Wake up. Today is the day I’m told of my inevitable promotion.’
The redhead grunted and turned away from her.
His flagrant rudeness did not cloud Hermione’s good mood. Her long-term boyfriend had never been a morning person.
‘I said it’s the big day.’
There was no response. The sound of his snoring told her he was back in the dream world.
She gave a deliberately loud tutt that went unacknowledged by her significant other.
There was still no response. This was not particularly bothersome to her. Ron never articulated anything remotely interesting to her until midday at the earliest. She decided to cut her losses and remove herself from this exceptionally pointless exercise of requiring acknowledgement.
She shook her tousled mop out and exited the bed to begin her ablutions. She needed to look debonair, neat and orderly when they told her of her rise through the ranks.
She expected there to be photographers to document the auspicious occasion. A reporter would most certainly be there. As long as Rita Skeeter and her quill were absent, she would be content to give an interview informing the wizarding world of this wise selection.
Hermione appraised herself in the mirror and practised her modest yet confident smile for when she accepted their faith in her proven abilities.
She looked poised and well put together. She had recently discovered a magical styling gel which had tamed her wild locks and was more suitable for her occupation. She now looked every inch the young professional with a burgeoning and golden future ahead of her.
One day, she would be the Minister. One day, the wizarding world would witness the first muggleborn take that most coveted of positions.
She was now twenty-three and in her prime, with many years ahead. She had so much time to truly make a difference.
Yes. Life was sweet.
She meandered downstairs in the cottage she shared with Ron. It was a delightful little place with a small yet beautiful garden. Neville had helpfully planted a few vibrant flowers for them, which were a joy to wake up to. A little stream ran by the back of the property, which was overlooked by woodland.
She had fallen in love with it on her first viewing.
Hermione cast her eyes over her home as she waited for the kettle to boil for her much-needed morning coffee.
After much arguing, er, debate, with the goblins at Gringotts, Hermione had to have the mortgage for the property put solely in her name as the goblin Taghook refused point blank to add Ron’s name to any legal documents involving money lending.
Hermione cringed at the dire memory of that awful day. Taghook had grumpily told Ron he was a bad bet due to the fact he had no savings and his ten-hour working week at Weasley joke shop as a part-time cashier wasn’t a sufficient form of income and they had no faith that he could guarantee repaying regular mortgage repayments if, for whatever reason, she couldn't.
Ron had argued his corner and said that he was a good bet. Taghook had then given a bitter laugh which had made the already tense situation even worse. There was also that unpleasant altercation when the goblin had derided Ron for not putting a ring on it already.
There was a simple explanation. Ron had told her he was saving up to buy her a very special ring.
That six years had passed since they had started dating was neither here nor there. Ron shared her bed and her home, and for all intents and purposes, they were husband and wife.
Besides, she was awfully busy at work and taking time off for such trivial matters wasn’t good time management.
When the time was right, she’d be Mrs Granger-Weasley. Mother of two and Minister of Magic. She was very much on track to have everything her heart desired.
Hermione poured her coffee and settled down with a bowl of muesli to prepare herself for this most auspicious of days.
Her only real competition for this position was Ernie MacMillan and Penelope Clearwater. She could selflessly admit that they were, compared to most, two rather accomplished individuals. They were good. They were very good. But, she was afraid that while she existed, their accomplishments paled into insignificance compared to her many achievements.
This was not her being egotistical. It was only the truth. There were also several other contenders, but none that troubled her.
She had several ongoing investigations where she was making great strides in bringing the culprits closer to justice. Even Harry had been impressed by her discoveries.
The Wizengamot were due to have a private vote this morning, but she didn’t feel remotely nervous. The announcement was a mere formality. She had the boy who lived in her corner and years of proven success.
She wished for a moment that her parents were here to share in her inevitable joy, but they were currently lounging on a beach in Australia for the next month. They had become rather fond of the place she had sent them to during the darkest year.
No matter. She would write to them instead. It wouldn't be surprising news to them. Her progress was inevitable.
Hermione went to bid her farewells to the living dead in the bedroom.
‘Ron. I’m going to work.’
There was a garbled sound.
‘Can you make sure you’re up by the time I finish work? I’ve booked us a table at the Three Broomsticks for a celebratory dinner.’
There was another grunt.
‘And then, we’ve got to be at Luna’s birthday party after that. She’s booked the Leaky Cauldron.’
This was greeted with silence.
‘Ron,’ Hermione snapped out in a shrill voice she only used when she was annoyed.
Ron opened up bleary eyes that seemed out of focus.
‘Merlin. It’s my day off. Give me a break, would ya.’
‘Except for Monday and Tuesday afternoons, every day is your day off.’
Ron was snoring again.
‘RON!’
He groaned.
‘What?’
‘What time do you need to be ready?’
‘When ya get back from work,’ he slurred.
‘And when is that?’
Ron sniffed.
‘Er, five-ish.’
‘Right. Make sure you’re ready to leave the cottage at five.’
Ron made a garbled noise and then closed his eyes once more.
Hermione gave him a dark look filled with mild annoyance. She quickly shook it off at the thought of the wonderful day that was looming.
Life was sweet. Life was good.
She apparated away from the cottage and towards her bright future.
Hermione had been subject to some hushed whispers and double takes as she had sauntered her way through the ministry and towards her office.
Naturally, her leadership qualities were already being recognised by the established officials.
She met Harry’s broad grin and returned it with one of her own.
‘You’ve got this, Hermione,’ Harry told her with sincerity.
‘I know. It’s so difficult to feign humility. I’ve been trying, but…’
She trailed off as Harry smirked.
‘You’re the best person for the job. Everyone knows it. McNeal left five minutes ago for the minister meeting, but it’s all just routine nonsense. We all know you’re going to be the next deputy.’
‘Oh, I’m so excited. I’ll have some real power soon. I can truly make a difference.’
Harry gave her a hug that she returned with vigour, and then they parted.
She wasn’t going to waste precious work time and headed towards her office to go over some files while she waited for her destiny to become reality.
Her eyes looked down at the paperwork for her latest case. It was focused on tax evasion involving the Rowle family.
A previously untouchable Pureblood family that was, if the rumours were to be believed, independently wealthy and had been for centuries. That they had managed to get away with only paying a sickle a year for their annual tax bill was most disconcerting for one Miss Granger.
So immersed was she in diligently cross-referencing the Rowle accounts that she didn’t notice her good friend, Luna Lovegood, hovering next to her for quite some time until the chirp of Betty, Luna’s pink pygmy puff, brought her out of her reverie.
‘Oh, Luna, darling. This is a nice surprise. Happy birthday.’
‘Hello, poppet.’
Hermione gave her an enquiring look. It appeared to her that Luna was looking rather perplexed. There was a barely noticeable frown line between her eyes. Hermione had never seen her friend in such a state.
‘My goodness,’ Hermione exclaimed. ‘What ails you? Has something happened to the Leaky Cauldron?’
‘Oh, no. Nothing like that. Tom has been very kind and is letting us use his public house for my birthday celebration. I’ve invited so many people, and we’re all looking forward to celebrating the fact I was born on this day, twenty-two years ago. I’m not entirely sure why we’re so happy about this, and just what it is about the fact that because a certain amount of days have gone by, it’s a reason to be happier than I was yesterday or will be tomorrow. Still, it’s as good an excuse as any for a party.’
‘Well, birthdays are a chance to show people how much you love them.’
Luna tilted her head in contemplation.
‘But, I show people I love them every day. Have I been doing it wrong? Should I only show people I love them on their birthday?’
‘Oh, no. I mean, a birthday is a chance for everyone to make an even bigger fuss of you than normal, that’s all.’
‘Oh. Are you still coming tonight?’
‘Of course. Ron and I will most certainly be there. We’re going to dine at the Three broomsticks to celebrate my promotion, but we’re sure to be with you as soon as we’ve run out of things to talk about, which shouldn’t take long.’
‘You’ve earnt this, darling. You've worked so hard.’
Hermione preened. She knew she’d earned it, but it was always nice to hear others agree with her. It then occurred to her that she still hadn’t discovered the reason for Luna’s agitation.
‘So, what's the matter?’
Luna bit her lip and reached into her robes, and brought out what appeared at first glance to be a rather small golden cube. It was certainly small enough to fit inside a fist.
Luna then placed this object gently on her table. Hermione glanced at it and then back up to Luna, who was peering at her with some speculation.
Neither of them said anything for a moment.
‘Er, Luna. Can I get some backstory, please? Why have you placed this cube on my table?’
‘Oh, yes. Of course. Information. Yes.’
Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
‘Yes. That would be helpful.’
‘Well, Betty and I had just gone to give Rolf his lunch. He’d forgotten to take his packed lunch to work this morning, you see. He left it on the kitchen table, and he loves my strawberry jam sandwiches. I always make them for him after that debacle in the ministry canteen last year. Rolf never could get along with their sandwiches. He says that they're barely edible, and to this day, he can’t be in the presence of the ministry beef stew and dumplings. Do you remember when he had a rather excruciating experience perpetrated by a meal deal, which he’s still traumatised by?’
Hermione scowled as she recalled the messy incident.
‘Yes. I do remember when Rolf got food poisoning because of the shoddy hygiene in the ministry kitchens. Why oh why they don’t have Food hygiene inspectors in the magical world is beyond me. They rejected my proposal to employ some, but I swear, I will get my way one day. That was a dark day, indeed. Rolf threw up all over my new work robes before being stretchered off to St Mungo’s.’
‘So, anyway. Rolf and I spent a rather nice five minutes together in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but then Rolf’s boss started giving him dirty looks and complaining that he didn’t pay Rolf money to chat to his girlfriend, so we decided to leave, and on our way out, Betty asked me if we could take the scenic route.’
Betty confirmed this with a small nod and a chirp.
Hermione willed herself not to clench her jaw with irritation at how long this backstory was taking to get to the point.
‘Well,’ Luna murmured. ‘Betty has been such a grand companion, and I couldn’t deny her this one teensy weensy little request, so I decided to take her for a wander around the Department of Mysteries.’
‘Isn’t that the most secure department in the ministry? I thought only authorised personnel were allowed access?’
‘Oh, yes. It’s a frightfully secret department, and normally they do lock the door, but as we were passing, I happened to notice that someone had wedged the door open. There wasn’t anyone about, and Betty did want to have a nose, and who am I to deny my most special animal friend a tour?’
Hermione tutted.
‘I'll need to have a word with their department about their lack of security. You really shouldn’t be wandering around unescorted in that area. There are dangerous things lurking in every corner.’
Luna waved away Hermione’s concern for her well-being.
‘We weren’t going to touch anything. Betty and I are far too sensible to put ourselves in unnecessary jeopardy. So, anyway. Do you remember that veil with that tatty black curtain that talks?’
Hermione fought with all her might not to contradict her about talking veils as she had no desire to extend this conversation which had already taken far too long already. She was still no closer to understanding why Luna had decided to put a golden cube on her table.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Well, Betty and I were looking at the pretty colours, and suddenly, out of nowhere, this cube came flying out of it. I must say, it gave us both a shock.’
Betty nodded vigorously.
Hermione was genuinely startled by this information and then looked down with renewed interest at the cube.
‘Are you sure this came out of the veil?’
‘Well, it was all so sudden, but it came from that direction.’
‘It could be someone playing a joke on you.’
‘Oh. Well, the thing is, aren’t jokes supposed to be funny?’
‘Well, some people’s sense of humour can be a little peculiar.’
Luna scratched her forehead with her wand and returned it behind her ear.
‘We didn’t see anyone else in there.’
‘They could have been disillusioned or under an invisibility cloak.’
‘I just fail to see what would be so amusing about chucking a gold cube at us.’
Hermione eyed the mentioned cube with a critical eye.
‘I’ve tried opening it using all the spells in my repertoire, but so far, no joy.’
Hermione gasped.
‘Luna. You can’t just go tampering with things. Who knows what this is? It could be fatal.’
‘I don’t think it is. I couldn’t sense any dark magic when I picked it up, and I’m a very finely tuned witch who can detect all the different facets of magic.’
Hermione gingerly prodded the cube. It felt warm to the touch, but she couldn’t sense anything else.
‘Well, we must follow protocol. Items like this must be taken to an Unspeakable to analyse. They have all sorts of gizmos and spells available to help them to work out what this does.’
‘Oh, we already tried that option. All the Unspeakables have taken a day trip to Stonehenge. They're attempting yet another futile mission in trying to work out just what it does and what its purpose is. After all these centuries, they’re still none the wiser. This lack of knowledge infuriates them, apparently.’
‘What? All of them have just buggered off for a jolly?’
‘Well, the receptionist called it a research trip.’
‘They're the same thing.’
‘She told us that they won’t be back until Monday.’
Hermione tapped her fingers on the table as she perused the cube.
‘You said you’ve tried everything. I have to admit; I don’t know what else to do with it.’
‘I was thinking, can’t you use that X-rated thingy that muggles use to see through things?’
Hermione was momentarily confused before clarity kicked in.
‘Er, I think you mean an X-Ray machine.’
‘Oh, yes. That’s it. Do you think you could see if that works? Sometimes it’s wise to think outside of the box. If magic doesn’t work, sometimes science can yield better results.’
Hermione pondered this suggestion.
‘I suppose I can find time over the weekend to take a look. Although, I don’t expect much. Still, during investigations, it's advised to eliminate all possibilities. I’ll inform the Unspeakables of the results on Monday just to be on the safe side.’
‘That’s very splendid of you.’
‘I’d go now, but I’m waiting to be informed of my inevitable promotion.’
Luna beamed.
‘They would be idiots not to promote you. You’re, like, the most super quill pusher in the magical world, and your management skills are amazing. Everybody, well, not Ron, but everybody else naturally recognises your innate leadership skills because they trust your good judgement. They regard you as the most proficient in matters of a legal, official nature. Although, would it be inappropriate of me to say that in matters of romance, many people regard you as woefully inept and-’
’Yes, that would be inappropriate to mention,’ Hermione snapped as she cut short Luna’s observation. She and Ron may not be the most loved-up couple, but that was because they were so very, very comfortable with each other. Ron was like a pair of comfortable slippers.
Luna gave her that wide smile that made her blue eyes twinkle and placated Hermione a little.
‘I’ll see you and Ron at my birthday party later. It should be a night that, hopefully, we won’t remember. They’re always the best ones. We will have a double celebration. You being in a respected position in the ministry, and me, celebrating the fact that three hundred and sixty-five days have passed since my last birthday. ’
Hermione cheered up at this.
‘Oh, yes, Luna. We have so much to be happy about. My life is evolving perfectly, and everything is right on schedule. My twenty-year plan has never felt so attainable.’
Luna’s smile wilted a little.
‘Yes. Your, er, twenty-year plan. I’ll see you later, darling. Rolf’s brother is going to be the D.J. He’s hired decks and everything, and he’s promised to play all my favourite songs. We should have such larks.’
Hermione bade her friend goodbye and picked up the cube to inspect it.
It seemed benign. She shook it. Nothing happened.
It could just be a gold cube.
Someone could have been mucking about and playing a trick on her. This could be fake gold.
There was a light knock on the door, and Harry put his head around.
‘They’re ready for you, Hermione.’
‘At last,’ she muttered.
She picked up the cube and placed it in her very secure shirt pocket for safekeeping.
With a cursory glance at the Rowle file, she closed it and put it in her drawer. There would be plenty of time to investigate their dodgy accounts later on.
With a triumphant smile, Hermione swept out of her office and towards her wonderful future.
‘So, in conclusion, I’m afraid your application for the deputy position has not been successful,’ Sebastian Oli divulged.
Following those specific words, everything in Hermione’s immediate world ground to a halt and a buzzing sound began sounding in her ears.
She gazed in shock at the stocky, dark-haired man.
‘Pardon?’ Hermione exclaimed. ‘I must have misheard you. I distinctly heard you say I was not successful, and that can’t possibly be correct.’
‘You did not mishear anything. You’re not going to be the deputy head for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,’ Sebastian articulated with a controlled smile.
Hermione’s glazed eyes roamed over the two middle-aged wizards and a witch seated in front of her behind a large mahogany table.
‘Look, Sylvie. Silas. We all know I’m the prime candidate. I am the most qualified. I am the smartest witch to ever graduate from Hogwarts. My N.E.W.T results surpassed those of Dumbledore, and when one considers that he didn’t have a Dark Lord to contend with during his formal education, my triumph is even more impressive.’
‘You didn’t do better than Dumbledore,’ Silas muttered dryly.
‘Incorrect. Hogwarts awarded me bonus points due to my war efforts, so therefore, I outperformed every previous Hogwarts student that came before me, and that includes Dumbledore. This is a travesty of epic proportions. I urge you to reconsider.’
‘The ministry has decided to go in a different direction,’ Sylvie informed her soberly. ‘This decision was carefully calculated and assessed by our experts, and they concluded Cormac Mclaggen would be a more effective deputy.’
A screech erupted from her mouth without her permission.
‘Mclaggen! You’re giving that lecherous creep my career?’
Silas gave her a dour look.
‘Please control your emotions, Miss Granger. It was never your position. Mclaggen is regarded by all of us as a team player and-’
‘What utter bollocks,’ Hermione spat. ‘He barely scraped a pass in his N.E.W.T.S. He only got a ministry job because his dad is on the Wizengamot.’
‘That is a very serious allegation,’ Sylvie sneered. ‘You may want to consider retracting it.’
‘I do not lie,’ Hermione declared.
‘What a shame. It appears you cannot accept a defeat with any humility.’
‘Do you have even the slightest comprehension of the sheer volume of boyfriends and husbands who have had to have a word with him about his compulsion to flirt with every witch in this place, whether they want his attention or not? He’s the most unprofessional wanker working here.’
Sylvie, Silas and Sebastian all made a great show of tutting and shaking their heads.
‘Cormac doesn’t use debased language in the presence of his superiors, Miss Granger. It is you who is being unprofessional.’
Hermione glared at Silas for his cutting words.
‘Mclaggen should have been fired months ago for the Suzie incident. He’s a bloody menace.’
‘We haven’t received any official complaints about his behaviour,’ Sebastian told her blandly.
‘Yes, you have. You’ve received plenty, but you’ve brushed them all under the table. Cormac’s attendance record is atrocious. When he does show up, he’s always late. He’s fucked up at least three investigations I can think of due to incompetence. His track record is appalling. Mine is flawless. I have the highest rate of successful convictions within the Department. Why him? Of all the bloody people you could have chosen, why promote him? He spends half the day in the pub.’
‘I must say, your aggressive behaviour is most unbecoming,’ Silas observed.
Hermione noted he didn’t refute her accusations.
Sylvie shook out her blonde hair and looked down her glasses at Hermione.
‘We were told in confidence that you exhibited anger management issues when you were a student at Hogwarts. It appears you’ve been keeping that aspect of your personality hidden from us. That tells us you lack integrity, Miss Granger.’
Hermione glared into her beady brown eyes with malice.
‘You’ve rigged this. This is sabotage. You’re giving Cormac the promotion because his dad’s pulled some strings. Ernie and Penelope are far more qualified than him, but you’ve overlooked them too.’
‘Oh, dear. Your temperament is even more unruly than we anticipated,’ Silas smirked.
Hermione felt like ripping off his white beard; such was her indignation.
‘My temper is justified under these circumstances.’
‘You cannot go around accusing people of such duplicity. It’s unbecoming for a ministry official. You know the protocol, Miss Granger. If you feel you have experienced discrimination, you must lodge an official written complaint with human resources who will then investigate on your behalf. You cannot publicly accuse others of such deceit. It’s unprofessional.’
Hermione narrowed her eyes as she met the cold, blue ones of Silas.
‘Is this because I’m a muggleborn?’ Hermione hissed out in righteous anger just before another thought entered her mind. ‘Is it because I’m a woman?’
There was a gasp from her audience of three as Hermione witnessed Sebastian’s gloating look.
‘It appears that you’ve finally breached the terms of your contract, Miss Granger,’ Silas murmured with a self-satisfied smile. ‘One cannot accuse their colleagues of nepotism, sexism and blood prejudice without evidence. The so-called brightest witch of her age should know this. Tsk, tsk.’
The fury Hermione was feeling was now at boiling point.
‘This is a set-up. You want to get rid of me because I’m too bloody good at my job. What is this? Has one of your dodgy tax-dodging pureblood mates put you up to this? Who am I getting too close to? Who are you protecting?’
They each gazed at her with obvious contempt.
‘I speak for all of us when I say just how utterly unfounded and vacuous all of your vile allegations are,’ Silas reprimanded. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself for this embarrassing conduct.’
Sylvie nodded at Sebastian, who nodded at Silas as they each turned in unison to Hermione.
‘Your lack of grace at this present time has confirmed our theory that Cormac is indeed the best man for the job,’ Sylvie told her in a cold tone. ‘He’s much more of a people person than yourself.’
‘This is preposterous.’
‘Your contract is terminated with immediate effect,’ Sylvie announced. ‘We are well within our legal rights to do this. You will receive no severance pay.’
Hermione felt her heart beat thud violently at this outrageous turn of events. She was completely unprepared. In no way, shape or form had she predicted any of this.
‘I suggest you pack up your desk and leave quietly,’ Sebastian scolded. ‘Failure to conduct yourself with at least some decorum will have unfortunate consequences for yourself.’
Hermione’s head was spinning at her reversal of fortune. This wasn’t happening. How could this be happening? How had she not seen this coming?
‘You are now banned from the ministry building until further notice,’ Sebastian added as he put the proverbial boot in.
‘Consider yourself fortunate we’re not prosecuting you for your baseless, precarious accusations,’ Sylvie asserted with a noticeably snide tone.
Hermione wasn’t often at a loss for words, but being blindsided like this had shaken her convictions to her very core.
Cormac would be the next Deputy. He was utterly unfit for that level of responsibility. The law enforcement department would be a den of iniquity and carelessness by the end of the week.
Files would be misplaced. Reports would be incomplete and inaccurate without her careful eye to watch over them. Crimes would be overlooked. None of those tax evaders she was investigating would see justice.
Hermione felt her head spin at the consternation this made her feel.
‘You can see yourself out, Miss Granger,’ Silas said with a tone of finality. ‘If you’re not out of the building by midday, you will be charged with trespassing and loitering with ill intent and escorted to the ministry cells for a long stay.’
Hermione felt her world crashing down around her, and what tenuous grasp she had of her faculties left her.
Her future wasn’t just slipping away from her. It was being wrenched. Her thriving career was now a trainwreck.
She’d never be the Minister of Magic now.
Never ever.
Her dream career had been stolen from her. All she had worked for had just been vanquished by three conniving backstabbing assholes and a petulant temper tantrum.
‘You two-faced bastards. You total and utter bloody bastards.’
‘Get out,’ Silas snapped.
A forlorn Hermione felt all her natural pride and perseverance inexplicably leave her; the shock was too great for her even to begin to comprehend all that had just transpired.
Bile began to rise as she heard herself whimper.
Oh, no.
Things were getting even worse. Her eyes were watering. She was losing her composure in front of her antagonists. She reached inward and gripped tightly at what tiny bit of defiance she had inside her. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
Hermione picked herself up and staggered out of the room of doom, blinking back hot tears and trying to force her bottom lip not to tremble and her chin not to collapse.
She was the brightest witch of her age.
How had she not seen this coming?