The Night is Young | Hermione Granger

Epilogue: Hermione Jean Granger

I don't think about Hermione Granger for years. Initially, I see her in the colour yellow, I see her in the books with familiar titles, and I see her in the part of me that constantly speaks out about something.

America has been an experience to me, and it has washed away the part of my mind occupied by her. Over time there are new things that need space in my head. New school, new friends, first job, first house, first promotion, first serious relationship; too many new things that take priority over her.

And then, it all comes back when I see her on the cover of the Daily Prophet.

Hermione Jean Granger-Weasley: First Female Minister of Magic.

She's done it. And looks like Weasley (one of them at least) stopped lollygagging, and realized how incredible she is.

And so, as the sound of my heels click across the floor of the Ministry, I'm feeling a strong parallel akin to my time at Hogwarts.

"I'm here for the Minister, we have a meeting." I greet her secretary, he looks nice enough.

"Which meeting, ma'am?" He shuffles his eyes through a roughly highlighted schedule.

"I'm the UK/US liaison from MACUSA, Chantal-Rosalie Moreau." My fingertips drum soundlessly against my folder.

It only takes a few seconds until he's nodding his head.

"Let me do a quick check." He presses a button and a jagged sort of telephone pops out of his desk. "Wouldn't want to interrupt the Minister in the middle of something."

"Of course." I breath, but he's already speaking with her. And despite the unintentional straining of my ears, I can't make out more than mumbled garble from the Minister's end.

"She says you can go in, Mrs. Moreau." He smiles and I bite my tongue from correcting him, it's still Miss.

But I smile tightly and turn to knock on her door. When I hear a faint acceptance I enter.

The office is larger than mine, I can say that, and the view has to be the best one in the building by far. Hermione is seated at the large desk, the sunlight behind making a halo around her as she urgently and passionately speaks to the enchanted quill documenting the words.

"And that should be authorizes by me personally before going ahead with any - oh!" The quills stops mid sentence as she blinks at me.

"Good morning, Minister." I say. "I do hope I'm not interrupting."

"No." She assures, and when she notices the quill transcribed it she disenchants it and stuffs it in the desk. "No, not at all."

"Good." I nod, noticing her face is still in shock. I take a couple steps forward to sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk even though she hasn't invited me to. "I'm here to discuss the improved travel restrictions set forth in the new Apparation and Air Travel Arrival agreement. As you know, fireworks are a-"

"Chantal." She goes, and I pause. "You're back."

"I've been stationed here for a while." I agree.

She ask. "How was America?"

"Different." I swallow, not knowing why she's inquiring into my personal life.

"I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself." She seems to shake herself out of her shock. "It's just, I haven't seen you since we were kids."

I nod my head.

"It's been a lifetime."

"It has." She leans a bit forward on her forearms. "You haven't changed a bit."

I smirk a bit.

"It's been over a decade, Hermione, a bit has changed."

"When did you get back?" She asks.

"I've been going back and forth for a few years, but I've been here for a couple months."

"When are you leaving again?"

"Not for a while." I admit, and fold my folder back up because it looks like we won't be talking about legal agreements for a bit. "We just sent a counterpart over to America. I communicate directly with her so I stay here unless I have to go back."

Hermione nods her head, not looking like she has anything else to ask.

"You've been busy." I comment. "First female Minister of Magic."

She grins at that.

"I worked hard for it." She goes.

"You work hard for what you want."

"So do you." She recalls, looking at me with deep emotion that I haven't seen in a while. And not from her, anyway.

"I hear you and Weasley have split." I bring the conversation back to a more manageable emotionally level for me.

She nods, looking away for a second to a framed picture on her desk.

"Ron is simply amazing." She starts. "He's an incredible friend, and incredible father... it just didn't work out like that for us."

"He was lucky to have you."

"I'll always be thankful that I had that time with him." Her fingers play with the transcribed parchment in front of her.

"What are your kids names?" I ask motioning to the picture frame.

"Hugo and Rose."

"Rose?" My eyebrows raise. "That's a beautiful name."

A small smile crosses her lips. "It is."

I don't get to say anything else because the rickety old intercom telephone I saw at the secretary's station outside pops out of Hermione's desk, startling the both of us.

"Minister, your next appointment is here." He says, a lot more clear than what I heard outside.

"Of course, we're just wrapping up." Hermione composers herself rather quickly and stuffs the communicator away.

"I guess I'll schedule another appointment to go over the agreement." I say, standing up and going to turn around.

"Chantal." She calls and I stop to listen. "Maybe you'd like to get a drink soon."

I smile softly.

"I would." My answer is quick. "Maybe then you'll let me get around to Apparation and Air Travel Arrival."

"Maybe, maybe not." She grins.

And there's a knock at the door, telling me that my time with her is over - for now.

I stand up a little straighter, not bothering to bid her goodbye because I know I don't have to. We'll be seeing each other soon, and I know that we'll be seeing each other more after that as I walk out of her office with my head held high and the smile on my face.

My heels click against the floor of the Ministry as I make my way back to my office, eyes turned up to look at the ever present news of Hermione's achievements.

And on my way, I have a brief thought:

The one thing they don't advertise for Slytherins is that some of us do get happy endings.

Some of us do find love.