Tired

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To avoid thinking about her solitude, Hermione tried her hand even harder at work.

Several things had happened at the Ministry that didn't make much sense.

In addition to her amazement at learning that the discussion on her werewolf bill had taken place in her absence, she had then discovered that the pages and pages of proposals she had written regarding the regulation of house elves' work had disappeared from her desk.

Yet she remembered carefully and thoughtfully placing them in her drawer. She huffed, bringing her hands to her temples.

She needed to leave work an hour earlier that day, so that she could finally buy some occlumency books in Diagon Alley.

It looked like a seemingly quiet day and she was hoping she wouldn't encounter too many people. She wasn't able to master her gift yet, and exposing herself to a large crowd made her feel like her brain was going to explode. Besides, she preferred not to be seen. The last thing she needed was for Skeeter to write in the Daily Prophet that Hermione Granger was suddenly interested in occlumency. She was already sufficiently frightened by the strange episode that had taken place in the hospital with that small, balding doctor, Pricett.

She let go of the papers she had in her hand, suddenly realizing that she knew that name.

How had she not realized it?

Knock Knock

Cameron knocked on the door of her office and Hermione flinched, almost afraid that she had drawn her presence with the force of her own thoughts.

She wondered if the woman was related to that doctor at St. Mungo's. Having the same last name wasn't a common thing in the magical world, and looking now at her wrinkled face and small, curved build, the resemblance suddenly jumped to her eyes.

Brother and sister, she surmised.

The woman advanced towards her desk holding a stack of papers, and Hermione couldn't help but notice the absurd lilac outfit she was wearing today, accompanied by matching shoes.

"They want you to analyze these papers," she said. And of course I had to bring them to you, like your personal elf

"Regulation in the production of wands" she read. "Apparently the next law they want to discuss concerns the use of dragon heart string, unicorn hair, you know-" she rolled her eyes, "protection of creatures etcetera etcetera. You must read this draft, some points of your proposal have been revised."

Hermione grabbed the stack of papers, letting her gaze dart vaguely to the first page. "What about house elves?" she asked after a few seconds, noticing that there was no mention of them in the document Cameron had just handed her.

Oh, not again, please.

"What?" the woman asked, raising her eyebrows indifferently.

"It doesn't say anything about them here," the girl lifted the main page of the file, hoping there was something on the back. Nothing. "All my submissions have been sent back without even being read. They are discarded regardless."

I have neither the time nor the energy for another one of these tantrums.

"I'm sorry, but if your proposal doesn't get approved by the board…"

"I have to write another one. Yes, I know," sighed Hermione, turning her gaze to the woman. "By the way, Cameron… I've been wanting to ask you," she hesitated. "Do you happen to know who had access to my office while I was away?"

Oh, just the house elves doing the cleaning.

"Just Thomas and I to deliver you the draft to your proposals and the documents you're supposed to be reviewing" the woman strutted, her tone of voice completely different than the rancor coming from her thoughts. "Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and peering down at her.

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