The Ties That Bind - Snamione, Post War

The Ties That Bind - Chapter 9

[Heyy, a bit a late again, depending on your time zone, but it's also the longest chapter yet at a resounding 31 pages! Yes, we're insane. No, we're not sorry. Well, maybe a little. This is also the introductory chapter of Harry and Ron, so we hope we did them any amount of justice and they are, as intended, equal amounts annoying and endearing. But we had to get some Hermione and Sev correspondence in as well, ergo the length. But fingers crossed, it's worth the time investment! We'd like to think so 😁 Another huge thanks to our beta Marilynn aka ! Thank you for working with our very weird schedules and up until the very last minute. You're an angel. Enjoy and please let us know what you think!]

Chapter IX: The Fall of Icarus

"Ultimately, the purpose of magic is to free our potential, not bind us to ideas." – Philip Carr-Gomm

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Friday, 28th November, 2003 - 9:00 AM 

     By the next morning, Hermione had found herself, begrudgingly, readying for work once again. Though the rumination of having an extra day to recoup from her recently altered-life, and the liable repercussions of her various choices, was incontrovertibly just as appealing as it sounded, after some brief, but rather intense inner-debate, she had ultimately decided that it would be poor form to do so. Not to mention the pivotal fact that it would certainly look cowardly, and that was a principle of which she simply would never abide. That reason, in congruence with the fact that it was the final day of her work week, as she'd nyxed Thursday entirely, laid her decision to be carved, alas, in stone. And besides, even if she had really wanted to abscond from her professional duties, her only accredited excuse would be found in some sort of benign, but necessary 'marital duty', which would, of course, require the need for her husband. This was also, inconveniently, an impossible route to explore, for everyone and their bleeding mother had just witnessed him leaving the city.

     The only semi-consoling aspect of the morning, it seemed, was the Prophet, as they'd predicted, hadn't instantaneously jumped back into the media circus since Snape had left their immediate clutches. As such, the largest and most commonly read publication, at least, seemed to be ignoring their previous day's antics after their initial photo debut. Still, that meant they, more likely than not, had quite a lot of ammunition still saved up for later use. Who the bloody hell even knew what the scummier tabloids had churned out overnight, let alone any further 'publications' that might follow that day.... Yes, the 'couple' had, essentially, handed them all the manna from heaven they could ever desire and then some on a silver platter yesterday. It had irrefutably been intentional, of course, but she could only hope she wouldn't begin to regret it totally – that it would stand to be enough to irritate the Wizengamot but not too much so as to make her day a complete and utter catastrophe.

      Either way, the inevitability was certainly enough to dissuade her from any urge to walk to work that day. No, she was markedly going to be commuting by floo. However, in the event that she felt differently on her return trip, or otherwise needed to blend into a crowd within the confines of the ministry itself, she did still choose to don her coat and – perhaps unwisely given its potential for newfound 'celebrity' – her gifted scarf.