June 1st - June 19th
It's almost summer! The last few weeks of school have come, and students will need to study hard for their final exams! Don't let up yet, or your grades won't be what you want them to. Of course, the weather is almost perfect and pristine, in attempts to lure students away from their studies.
A million and one small things [ 2/10/09; ISO: Ginny]
Great. Just great. Her first day at work and she’d made a first-year cry.
Absolutely bloody wonderful.
The problem was, Hermione decided, that she simply wasn’t cut out to be a school nurse. She was a researcher, a scientist…at no point in her St. Mungo’s training had they taught her how to deal with eleven year olds feigning injury to get out of Ancient Runes. She had always disapproved of idle students, and put her point across quite emphatically, but really, did the boy have to start bawling like that? Honestly, what was it with children being so sensitive these days? It had taken the better part of an hour and a packet of every-flavour beans to quieten him down, and the whole experience had left Hermione visibly flustered. It was suddenly dawning on her that she would have to work with teenagers. Teenagers, for goodness sake! She’d never understood them even when she was one. In fact, her own memories of adolescence were a vague blur of exasperation and embarrassment - what on earth had she been thinking when she had accepted this post? For the first time since leaving Bulgaria, Hermione was seriously beginning to doubt her suitability for the job. Death Eaters, she could handle. Voldemort, fine. But if one more first-year had the audacity to start crying in her presence, Hermione knew that she would have no choice but to hand in her resignation there and then.
Overly-emotional students aside, however, she had to admit that it was good to see Hogwarts again. More than good, in fact. From the very moment that she had entered the grounds, she was aware of an overwhelming sense of familiarity, as though simply being there was somehow cleansing to the soul. The ancient heart of building remained as unchanging and eternal as ever, and every corridor she walked down seemed to resonate with the echoes of her own past. Once or twice, she caught herself hesitating outside a classroom, half expecting to see Harry and Ron come rushing down the hallway behind her. She reasoned that it was simply nostalgia, but there was something deeply comforting about it nonetheless. Whatever superficial frustrations she had experienced during the day, deep down, she was beginning to realise that she had been right to return. Hogwarts was her home, and after so long an absence, it was curiously satisfying to reacquaint herself with the life that she had left behind.
…Which was perhaps partly the reason why she now found herself standing outside Professor Binn’s old office, curiously examining the small placard set beside the door. There, set in neat copper-plate letters, was the irrefutable proof that Ginny had not been joking when she’d told her that she’d accepted a post at Hogwarts; Professor Weasley - History of Magic. Despite herself, Hermione smiled, briefly conceding that the old adage appeared particularly apt in this instance. Fate, it seemed, certainly did work in mysterious ways…at least as far as former Hogwarts students were concerned. Ginny had written to her several weeks previously to inform her about her new role, but somehow, in spite of everything, Hermione had never quite believed her. It was not that she doubted Ginny’s abilities, of course - she knew, perhaps more than anyone, how fiercely intelligent the youngest Weasley could be - but until then, she had simply not been aware that Ginny had held any interest in the subject whatsoever. Nevertheless, she could not help but feel a small swell of pride at her friend’s accomplishment. For all her apparent level-headedness, Hermione still felt a lingering sense of awe towards the Hogwarts teachers, and her admiration was tempered only by the knowledge that certain members of staff had proved themselves to be somewhat less than commendable in the past. Snape, for example. And Lockheart. And Umbridge, come to think of it…
Nevertheless, Hermione hesitated, glanced furtively around, then leaned forward to give the placard a quick polish with the edge of her sleeve. Professor Weasley. She could only imagine at how proud Molly must have been…
Once satisfied that Ginny’s name was sufficiently gleaming, Hermione gave a short knock on the door, unsurprised to find it unlocked. She pushed it open slightly and peered tentatively around the room.
Re: A million and one small things [ 2/10/09; ISO: Ginny]
Bored. Booooored. So bored. Ungodly bored. Desperately bored. How many different ways could you say bored? Ginny needed some sort of excitement in her life. Sitting around after she taught her classes in her office grading papers was BORING. Maybe she should get up and go see Harry again... She was slightly reluctant to do so, having absolutely no idea what another visit would bring, so she kept herself firmly planted in her chair in front of her desk. Essays were spread all over the mahogany surface, some with grades stamped at the top, others lacking any marks at all. That was her To-Do pile. And unfortunately, it was a whole lot larger than the completed pile was. Work was slow, boring, and oh, did she say boring? Maybe she should take a swig of firewhiskey to make herself a little bit giddy so it wouldn't be such a painful experience.
Oh man, what was she thinking? Grading students papers drunk? Ginny let out a small moan and let her face fall forward onto her desk with a thump. She lifted it and banged it against the surface a few times in punishment. What had she been thinking?! She needed out. She wasn't meant to be teaching classes and grading papers. She wanted to be out there in the wizarding world writing! Informing the people about all the important things that were going on! If only Fudge wasn't a right old git.
A soft knock came from Ginny's door, and she snapped her head off of her desk, looking to her door. She was saved! Saved by the knock. Before she could reply, her visiter gently pushed the door open, and spoke. “Hello? Ginny?” Wait...that voice. It was so familiar, so friendly, so welcoming! It was Hermione! She had taken a spot as the nurse at Hogwarts, something that Ginny figured could only be explained through fate. Imagine, Harry teaching apparition lessons at Hogwarts, Ginny teaching History of Magic, and now Hermione was in the Hospital Wing working with sick students. Where was Ron going to come in now? Personally, Ginny could never see him in any sort of position at Hogwarts, but that was alright. Maybe fate would bring them back in a group of four again. Maybe fate would even put him back with Hermione. Who knew? Only time could tell.
Jumping, a grin spread across Ginny's face. She lept out of her chair and looked toward the door. "Hermione?" She asked eagerly, and when the door was fully open, Hermione came into sight. Ginny squealed softly and hurried toward Hermione, catching her in an embrace. "You have no idea how happy I am to see a friendly familiar face here. Especially while I'm grading these bloody papers." Pulling away, Ginny beamed at Hermione. "I couldn't believe it when you told me you were taking a spot here!"
Glancing over at her desk, Ginny eyed the essays wearily. "I don't think I was ever made out to be a teacher," she told Hermione. "But then again, I definitely wouldn't be here unless it was a last resort. Old Fudgey's definitely making sure my life is just a little bit more difficult than it needs to be," Ginny explained to Hermione, letting out a sigh. Ugh. Fudge. That disgusting miscreant. He needed to die a painful death.
Re: A million and one small things [ 2/10/09; ISO: Ginny] "Hermione?"
Hermione had barely had a chance to register her surroundings before she collided with a flurry of robes and familiar red hair. She started, momentarily taken back by the unreserved reception, but then swiftly relaxed into the embrace. Perhaps this was part of the reason why she held so much affection for the youngest Weasley; no matter how long they had been apart, Ginny always had a way of making her feel instantly welcome. In spite of everything, she found herself grinning as they pulled apart, face flushed with surprise and pleasure.
"You have no idea how happy I am to see a friendly familiar face here. Especially while I'm grading these bloody papers."
“It’s good to see you too,” she laughed, taking a moment to regain her composure. Taking a step back, Hermione glanced over her old friend and was astonished to see how much she had changed. Not so much in looks, perhaps - Ginny had always been beautiful, nothing could change that - but there was something different in the way that she held herself…a kind of quiet confidence. For a split second, Hermione felt ridiculously shy, and briefly wondered what had happened to the girl that she had always secretly though of as ‘Ron’s baby sister’. No doubt about it, she had certainly grown up over the past few years. Harry needed his head examined if he couldn’t see what he had missed out on with her.
"I couldn't believe it when you told me you were taking a spot here!"
Hermione’s smile waned momentarily, replaced with a look that conceded defeat. “Me neither, as it happens.” She shrugged, shaking her head with a small grimace of self depreciation. “I have to admit, it’s not exactly what I’d had in mind on graduating.”
And it wasn’t…not by any stretch of the imagination. It seemed ridiculous now, but she had always held such high expectations for herself; St. Mungo’s was to be only the beginning. She had wanted to make a name for herself, to be at the forefront of great discovers, maybe even one day join the Unspeakables in unlocking the Veil’s mysteries…such lofty dreams, all shattered because of one despotic politician and her own reckless stupidity. Ah yes, School Nurse would not have been a role that she would have undertaken through choice. Her own wounded ego aside, however, Hermione knew that she should be grateful for the job. As far as Fudge was concerned, she had been blacklisted from all British wizarding society, and had it not been for the help of the Bulgarian Minister, Hermione doubted that she would have found work in England at all.
Not wishing to appear self-pitying, Hermione quickly moved to amend her statement, feigning optimism. “Still, beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose. I’m just happy to be back.” She looked around the room with interest, her gaze lingering on the bright windows. “You know it’s funny, I hadn’t realised it until now, but I’d really missed these old walls…”
"I don't think I was ever made out to be a teacher. But then again, I definitely wouldn't be here unless it was a last resort. Old Fudgey's definitely making sure my life is just a little bit more difficult than it needs to be."
Hermione scowled at the mention of Fudge’s name, but wisely decided not to launch into her own personal tirade. There was something about him that she found distinctly unsettling. It was not just that he was a tyrant with an over inflated sense of his own power - though that, admittedly, did play a part - it was something deeper than that…something that she couldn’t understand, but instinctively sensed nonetheless, and the knowledge that Fudge had targeted Ginny’s career as well as her own did little to quell her unease.
She straightened her shoulders, eyes glittering with ill-concealed malice. “Hm, well I can’t say I’m his number one fan myself...” Her expression softened marginally, and she glanced back towards her friend. “I heard about what happened at the Daily Prophet, by the way. I’m sorry, Ginny - I know how much that job meant to you.” She paused, then offered her a small smile. “If it helps, the girl they’ve hired to replace you writes like an amateur. It’s their loss, believe me.”
It was certainly true that Ginny had been a singularly gifted reporter. Hermione had followed her articles with interest, initially to keep tabs on what her friend was up to, but later out of a genuine love for her writing. Ginny was a wonderful journalist…what Fudge had done was despicable. Still, in spite of everything, Hermione could not help but wonder whether there was some higher power at work here. First Ginny, then Luna, now her…it seemed almost as though the old guard were being reassembled, even in spite of Fudge’s best efforts to see them diminished. For some reason, that was a great comfort indeed.
Turning her attention once again to the room, Hermione found herself impressed by the changes that Ginny had made. She had been here only once or twice as a student, and had always found it a rather bleak place to work in; now it was warm and bright, and cluttered with so many family pictures that she could easily imagine the office as an extension of The Burrow itself. Her gaze settled on a quidditch poster and she laughed quietly to herself. It was good to know that some things never changed.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m having trouble thinking of you as Professor Weasley.” She shook her head, still chuckling to herself. “So what have you been up to over the past few months? Aside from chasing errant homework assignments, I mean.”
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