In These Silent Days

Chapter 13

Hermione hates the maxim "absence makes the heart grow fonder."

Mostly because fondness seems to manifest in the most irritating of ways. She wakes alone and it makes her skin itch. While she focuses at work, her nails are bitten to the quick by the early afternoon. She feels it in her sodding hair of all places, as if it has somehow grown heavier with longing.

Pathetic.

Should she contact Draco? He, of course, left fire-call instructions in case of emergency. But what would she even say? "Oh, hello, sorry to interrupt your trip, just thought I should tell you about the emotional devastation you left in your wake and all of this is completely my fault anyhow because I'm the one who said we would benefit from time apart and I know the only reason you haven't spoken to me is because you're the one acting mature here and respecting my stated wishes. I was wrong about that, by the way. I was wrong, now can you come home and be smug about it to my face?"

No. Her sudden neediness should not usurp his career responsibilities. Besides, she can last a few more days. Probably.

The Daily Prophet's weekend edition tests her resolve not to call Draco. Hermione can't be sure if this is somehow the work of Lucius, the Minister, bitter ex-Ministry leaders, or perhaps even an unholy combination of all three.

"Werewolf Attacks On the Rise."

The timing cannot be coincidental. Her Wolfsbane measure will be having its Court session soon, it's already been listed in the public announcements for upcoming proposed legislation.

Hermione's eyes narrow as she reads the paper. Amid the article's typical dehumanizing language and jump-scare rhetoric, she finds something far more alarming.

"A representative for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) confirmed the increase in 'werewolf-related incidents.'

'It's getting out of hand,' says one DMLE officer who wishes to remain anonymous, 'our Aurors have been run ragged trying to capture werewolves intent on maiming and biting victims.'"

"That's incorrect," she says aloud, too engrossed to remember she's alone. If anything, reported werewolf attacks have decreased dramatically in the last few years, thanks in part to her anti-discrimination measures. She would know, it's one of her many statistics included from her research on the community. Fuming, Hermione skims the printed lies and exaggerations until she finds the infuriating quote she knew would come:

"'At this time, we ask everyone to remain vigilant,' says Minister Lance. 'We cannot allow dangerous beings to run unchecked in their violence. I will personally see to it that our Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures forms a plan of action to address this public safety issue.'"

Hermione tosses the paper aside and considers how best to direct her boiling rage.

Fire-call Draco and interrupt his trip with her work drama?

Floo to Harry's and angrily pace his cottage whilst railing against his department's fabrication?

Double and triple check the talking points she has planned for the Wizengamot?

Write to Miriam and apologize preemptively for failing her, her son, and every family with a bitten child?

She'll do none of that. She doesn't need a confrontation with her forced husband under these circumstances, nor a futile venting session with Harry, and she certainly doesn't need to second-guess all her months of hard work because of one article.

Hermione needs to drink an irresponsible amount of absurdly priced champagne and she knows just the place to go.

She'd skipped last weekend's get-together, unsure if she'd still be welcome without Draco. It makes for quite the dramatic entrance.