To Be or Snot To Be

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Author Note Feb/2020: Hey folks, this is the first chapter of a rewrite of this section of the story. I was never happy with the wild tangent I forced into the original, so I'm returning to it to correct those mistakes and bring this section into line with the rest of the tale. I have plotted out FIVE new chapters and hope to write and post quickly, so keep an eye out for them. So, here's the first new one. Hope you enjoy!

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Harry and Hermione arrived promptly at nine o'clock. Hermione had dressed in a formal suit, a slate-grey jacket covering a high-collared blouse, with a matching grey-and-white tartan skirt. Harry considered her figure and wondered where she had found the attire, speculating wildly that she had gone back in time and raided a young Minerva McGonagall's wardrobe. The similarity was uncanny. Harry, himself, was in simple black robes, deciding it was best not to draw too much attention to himself.

Not that it was working in the slightest.

For nearly everyone who passed them did a double-take. The waiting area for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement shared a space with five other departments, meaning there was a fair amount of traffic passing through. Witch, wizard and hag alike clocked Harry and Hermione as they sat there, took a moment for recognition to dawn, then snapped their heads back for a second look. Just to be sure. For a while it was amusing, but Hermione soon grew tired of it.

"You'd think they'd never seen you before," she huffed crossly, as a pair of young witches scuttled away giggling behind their wands. "What, exactly, do they expect to see by gawking like that?"

"They might not be looking at me," Harry offered, jokingly.

"Oh come on, Harry!" Hermione cried. "You're you...but these idiots might as well be looking at a giant wizard with three heads! Yeah...what!!?"

Hermione had snapped at a young wizard who was hurrying by and trying not to stare at them. The vitriol of Hermione's tone nearly made him drop the tottering pile of parchment sheets he was carrying.

"Yelling at random members of the public wont exactly make us less conspicuous!" Harry teased.

Hermione rounded on him with a frown. "Doesn't it bother you? All this silly attention? It's actually ridiculous!"

"Er, well, I've had to put up with it most of my life," Harry reminded her.

"That doesn't excuse it. It doesn't excuse it at all," said Hermione. Harry couldn't get over how cute she looked when she was cross. But maybe he'd wait till later to tell her, she might bite his face off if he tried it now.

"Look, Hermione, don't get all het up. Just ignore it. Its easier once you try."

"I thought I was supposed to be the sensible one," Hermione replied with a slight grin. "And you had the hot head. What's happened to us?"

Harry chuckled at that. "I'd like to say you've improved me, but the flip side to that is that I've brought you down...to my level. I'm not comfortable with that."

Hermione slipped her hand into Harry's. His skin tingled at her cool touch, he didn't think he'd ever tire of the sensation. "Maybe we've just brought each other into balance."

Harry smiled at her. "Yeah. I can live with that."

Hermione looked at the clock on the wall. "Half an hour we've been waiting. How long can they expect to keep us like this?"

"Shall I just go up and bang on the desk? Tell them 'I'm Harry Potter...get a bloody move on?'" Harry laughed. "I'm the Chosen One Who Saved The Day, or whatever nonsense they're calling me these days. That has to count for something."

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