Changes

By: QDT

Disclaimer: Who's got two thumbs and no royalties from Harry Potter?

For the Twin Exchange November Challenge. The story kind of got away from me, and I was running out of time so there isn't as much to the last part of the story as I had hoped. Someday I will hopefully come back to this and flesh it out some more. Enjoy!

Hermione sat at her desk, staring at the policy before her. It was full of comments and markups and she was dreading writing the revision. What was wrong with her? She used to love reworking policies. She had found it challenging and enjoyable to try to accommodate the wishes of the Wizengamot while still getting her way ‒ the way that was best for underprivileged creatures, that is. But lately she'd been finding it tedious rather than exciting. Instead of losing track of time and working well past dinner, she found herself counting down the hours until she could leave. She glanced at the clock. Still one more hour before five o'clock. She sighed and reached for a quill and parchment to take notes of the proposed edits as she read. Just because she didn't love her work like she used to didn't mean she shouldn't do it well.

About five minutes before she felt she could reasonably head home, her boss, Mr. Simmons, poked his head into her cubicle.

"How's the merpeople proposal going?" he asked.

"Starting to move forward," she told him. "Finally got it back from the Wizengamot. I'm just going to finish reading their edits tonight and should be able to get you a new draft tomorrow afternoon."

"Good, good!" Mr. Simmons beamed at her. "Anything unusual?"

"Just the normal appalling amount of sexism. Seriously, I thought the only people this obsessed with mermaids were five-year-old Muggle girls."

"Ah, the old stereotypes," Mr. Simmons chortled. "See you in the morning, Hermione!"

"Have a good evening," she told him as he disappeared around the corner. She went back to her page of notes and the almost-empty stack of papers she had left to go through.

Ten minutes later she flipped a page and discovered there were no more left underneath it. Time to go, she thought, stretching before standing up and grabbing her purse. On the elevator ride down to the atrium, she pondered what, exactly, she was counting down to when she calculated the hours left until she could leave. She used to feel guilty working late and treasured every moment she spent at home with Ron. For the past several months though they'd been spending less and less time together. He went out with other Aurors and she read a lot of periodicals in the study. Sometimes she would go out with Ginny, but since James had been born Ginny had a lot less free time. Hermione wasn't sure when her life had gotten so unfulfilling. She wasn't unhappy, but there was this constant feeling that there must be something more to life. She shook herself out of this train of thought as it was her turn for the Floo. It was her night to cook, she remembered. She shouted "Ron and Hermione's" and a warm breath later she was stepping out of the fireplace in her own living room.

It was empty, which was not surprising. She clicked on the TV for background noise while she wandered into the kitchen to peruse the cupboards. They had bits and pieces of several meals; spaghetti but no tomato sauce, hamburger buns but no meat, et cetera. Eventually she found some chicken in the back of the freezer that she could serve with the spaghetti noodles. There should be enough from two, and Ron would probably be home later. He did try to owl when he was going to be late or was going out somewhere and so far she hadn't heard anything. She started the chicken thawing and started some water to boil for the noodles while looking for some ingredients for an alfredo sauce.

She had just finished cooking the chicken and was putting it in the sauce when there was a whoosh from the living room announcing Ron's arrival.

"Hey, Hermione!" he called. She poked her head out of the kitchen.

"Hi, Ron," she greeted him. "You're just in time, dinner's almost ready."

"Good news," he said cheerily. "I'm just gonna change out of my Auror robes and I'll be right in."

Hermione went back into the kitchen while Ron disappeared down the hall to the bedroom. She was just taking their makeshift garlic bread (toast with some garlic powder and leftover cheese from the alfredo sauce) out of the oven when he came back.

"Mind if I change the channel on the telly?" he asked.

"No, go ahead. I haven't really been watching anyway."

Ron padded out of the kitchen and soon afterwards she heard the unmistakable tones of a sportscaster and muted cheers. She turned off the oven and the stovetop and fixed them a couple of plates before following him into the living room and settling down on the couch.

"Mmm, smells good," said Ron.

"Thanks. Want to grab some wine and a couple of glasses?"

Ron nodded and pointed his want vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. "Accio!" he said, and there was an unpleasant crash before a bottle of Merlot and two glasses (one of which was cracked near the rim) came whizzing through the door. Ron winced. "Sorry," he said, plucking the cracked glass out of the air while the other floated over to Hermione. "I'll never get the hang of how you get the cupboards to open before the stuff is Summoned," he complained and poured them both wine.

Hermione laughed. "It's the wand motion," she told him. "You just poke your wand at things like some kind of Neanderthal. It requires at least a modicum of finesse."

Ron threw a noodle at her and sat back in his chair for dinner.

Some hours later, Hermione was in the study reading the latest issue of Adventures in Arithmancy. As she read about the latest theory in numerology, she almost missed having homework. Of course she used problem-solving skills at work in negotiations with different magical races, and of course the Wizengamot, but it wasn't the same as sitting down with a textbook and paper and solving a math problem. She kept up with her Runes by translating bits of the Tales of Beedle the Bard, but Arithmancy had really always been her favorite. Almost wistful, she glanced at the clock and started. How had it gotten so late?

"I'm going to bed," she called to Ron who was out in the living room.

"Okay," he responded. "I'll be there in a bit."

Hermione quickly changed and brushed her teeth. Less than ten minutes later, she had climbed into bed and turned off the light. An hour after that, Ron came in and quietly got ready for bed too. Hermione barely stirred when he climbed in next to her, curling up farther over on her side. Time was, he would wake her up and they would chat or snuggle before falling asleep together. But this night Ron just rolled over and went to sleep himself.

Hermione finished editing the merpeople proposal the next morning. After lunch, she called a quick meeting with some of the interns, handing them all copies of the new proposal.

"In the next week or so, I want you all to go through this new draft of the proposal. If you find any errors or anything I forgot to address, send me a memo and I'll correct it. Anything I change should show up on all of your copies, as usual. We'll reconvene next week to discuss the conference with the merpeople."

After a few questions and clarifications they adjourned to their own workspaces. One of the interns, a recent Hogwarts graduate who was transitioning to full-time after working there the two previous summers caught up with Hermione in the hall.

"Miss Granger, have you given any thought to who you want with you at the mer-conference? I don't want to be too pushy, but I've been learning some Mermish in my free time and doing some side research on their culture, and I just really think you should give me a chance," he said breathlessly.

Hermione considered him. "I'm sure you know that for practicality's sake, we're holding the conference underwater," she began.

"I know," he replied. "I just want to be prepared, and I've ‒"

Hermione cut him off. "You've been doing other research but thought it made good sense to learn the language as well, in case the need for it arose. Brian, don't worry about it. You do good work. Obviously I don't know yet how many people we're bringing, but you're definitely on my list."

The young man visibly relaxed. "Thanks, Miss Granger. I'm going to get on the new draft of the proposal as soon as I can, and I swear, I won't let you down."

"I know," she said. "And please, start calling me Hermione."

Hermione kept busy the next few hours re-editing the proposal as various memos came in with a few things she'd missed the first time through and several ideas for improvements. More than half were from Brian. He was taking on more responsibilities since he'd graduated and wouldn't be leaving at the end of the summer like most of the other interns, but even before then he had stood out from the crowd. When he was in the Ministry, he worked tirelessly, far above and beyond what he was asked and expected to do. Even during the school year he had had a presence in the office, owling them to stay in the loop of projects he had helped out with during the summer. It could be a little annoying, but he also offered to help out as much as he could long-distance, and he even came in over the Christmas and Easter holidays, which was especially helpful since so many of the regular employees took some vacation days at those times. Hermione couldn't help but compare him to a younger version of herself. Had she ever had that much passion about magical creatures? The only thing she'd been a fraction as passionate about was S.P.E.W., and even then she knew she could have tried harder to make a real difference. All she had really done was knit a few hats. She hadn't even formed a real school club, just told Harry and Ron they were members.

She looked at the clock. Ten minutes. Merlin, she was tired. She sighed, and leaned forward to get one more task finished up before the end of the day, but she was interrupted by an inter-department memo.

Hermione,

Going out to dinner at the Leaky Cauldron with some guys from the Auror dept. Sorry! I know it's my turn to cook. Stopped back at our place for lunch; left my credit card on the kitchen table so feel free to order Muggle take out on me, or join us at the Leaky! Harry will be there too.

See you later,

Ron

She wrote Ron a quick note back, telling him thanks for letting her know. She thought briefly about going to the Leaky Cauldron with them, but figured it would all be Aurors. She'd met most of Ron and Harry's coworkers and didn't think they would mind her presence, but unless some of them brought their significant others too then she would spend the evening nodding along and feeling just a little bit out of the loop. She added a bit that she probably wouldn't join them and thanks in advance for the Chinese.

Hermione wrapped up a report she'd been working on for Mr. Simmons about the latest adjustments to the Goblin Treaty. The Wizengamot had been surprisingly open to their demands, which she chalked up to the fact that the Goblins controlled all their money. She left herself a note to proofread the report before she sent it in in the morning, and left for the evening.

To her surprise, when she got home there were two owls waiting for her outside the kitchen window. She and Ron lived in a Muggle neighborhood, and years ago they had devised a spell to prevent owls from swooping around the front of the house and attracting the attention of the neighbors. The kitchen window was in the back of the house and there was a tree that secluded it from the view of surrounding houses, so that was where they had arranged for owls to wait for them. She opened the window and let both of the birds in the house. One was Harry and Ginny's owl, Alberta, which hooted softly at her until she had dug out an Owl Treat for her. The other was large and robust-looking, not a breed Hermione recognized, but it had very thick light brown feathers, and stuck out its leg regally for her to detach the letter. It was ignoring Alberta, but did take an Owl Treat before it left.

Both letters were addressed to Hermione. She opened the one Alberta had brought first and found a quick note from Ginny.

Hermione,

Lunch tomorrow? Haven't seen you in ages!

XOXO,

Ginny

As she was jotting down a response to Ginny, suggesting a cafe near Diagon Alley at 12:30, a third owl flew in the still-open kitchen window. This one was large and black, and she immediately recognized it as belonging to Viktor Krum, with whom she still exchanged letters occasionally. She relieved his owl of its letter as well, and gave it an Owl Treat before turning to the letter from the unfamiliar owl.

Ms. Hermione Granger,

It is with great pleasure that we at Durmstrang Institute invite you to join our staff. We are in need of a new professor of Arithmancy, and we believe that your N.E.W.T. scores in the subject make you among the most qualified for the position. Our former Arithmancy professor is taking a step back but not retiring entirely. He wishes to continue research in the subject but no longer has the energy he had in his younger years to teach full-time. He will be happy to assist you as you adjust to the job, and has added that if you are interested he would be interested in collaborating with you academically as well.

We are prepared to match your current salary, and as a boarding school we provide free room and board to all our staff members. There are also guest quarters available on the grounds should you wish to invite any visitors.

The official language at Durmstrang is Norwegian as we are located in Norway, but we understand that you may have little to no experience in this tongue. Many of our students are quite proficient in English and we will make every effort to ensure you a translator at all times.

On a more personal note, I want to add that this administration is attempting to undo some of the prejudices left behind by the former Headmaster. Be assured that should you choose to join us, you are most welcome. As Headmistress, I have been trying to implement many new policies, and next year I want to form a student-teacher group dedicated to building Muggle awareness and eradicating misconceptions that much of the Wizarding world and our own students still hold. I was hoping that you would agree to be a part of this group.

Thank you very much for considering our offer. Please owl me if you have any questions at all or want to request more details about the position, responsibilities, etc. Take as much time as you need to think over our offer, however we will need a response by August 1 to prepare sufficiently for the start of term in September.

Yours sincerely,

Vera Laine

Headmistress

Durmstrang Institute

Hermione stared at the offer letter in shock for a full two minutes. Some part of her brain remembered it was dinner time, and in a daze she hit the number for the nearest Chinese delivery place on their speed dial. After hanging up the phone, she opened the letter from Viktor Krum.

Dear Hermione,

I hope this letter finds you well. By now you should have received an offer from Durmstrang for the open Arithmancy position. I know that when I mentioned to you when Professor Olsen retired you were not thinking that you might be offered the job; I was not thinking that either. However we have had great trouble finding a replacement for him, and when I mentioned that it had been your favorite subject when I knew you in school Headmistress Laine looked into your academic record. Of course she was impressed, you have many NEWTs higher than our other teachers received in their own subjects. So that is how you came to be offered the job.

Before you reject it out of hand, I want to tell you some things about Durmstrang. Much has changed since my years as a student here, though they were not so many years ago. Of course we no longer teach a course in Dark Arts. That was gotten rid of shortly after your friend Harry defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It is also not so much of a rough and tumble place as it was when I attended. We are now co-ed, and while some might argue that the addition of girls to our student body would only serve to increase fights among the boys, I maintain that it is much less violent. I know you know that I work here, but I just want to remind you that not everyone here will be a stranger. I know you do not speak Norwegian, but if you are at all like the girl I used to watch study during my stay at Hogwarts, then by the end of your first year you will probably be more fluent than me. In the meantime, I will translate for you as much as I can and there are many others who will be more than happy to help you too. Professor Olsen I am sure will help you as well; he is still going to be around. He is just getting older and sleeping much more of the day and having less energy to teach the students.

Laine has also done much to make the school more accessible. We have a boat that goes regularly to and from the nearest Muggle town, as well as permanent Portkeys to Oslo and nearby Murmansk. It is not really so cold here as you might think, either. Really only a little below freezing most of the winter, and we have the Northern Lights in the sky much of the time, which I know you have always wanted to see.

Please give the job some thought. I would love to see you. I have not heard you talk about your job at the Ministry lately, but if you are unhappy there then we would love to have you here. I am not a teacher, only the Quidditch coach, but working with the students (while frustrating at times) is very rewarding. If you love your Ministry job then stay, but I think you can be happy here.

Yours,

Viktor

Hermione spent the time until her take out arrived in a daze. She didn't notice that all she had ordered was fried rice, not even as she ate it. She put the leftovers (three full cartons of untouched fried rice) in the fridge. She read the Durmstrang letter again. She read Viktor's letter again. She sent her previously penned response to Ginny using her own owl. She read the Durmstrang letter once more. She folded all her letters up and put them in her pocket. Her thoughts went into overdrive as she mindlessly flipped on the television. She had just started paying attention and realized it was still on the sports channel when a whoosh signaled the arrival of Ron.

"Excellent!" he said by way of greeting. "Thanks for turning the game on for me."

"No problem," she said. Ron! she thought. How had she neglected to think of him in the hours since she'd first read the Durmstrang offer. Shouldn't he have been her first thought? Should the thought of leaving him fill her with dread? She didn't want to leave Ron. He had been her best friend for 16 years. They had been through so much together. And besides, she already had a job. It was crazy to consider an offer for a job she hadn't even applied to. Right?

"You don't have to sit in here with me," said Ron, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, it's no problem. Honestly I've been kind of zoning out anyway." At this statement, Ron laughed.

" I can tell. The commentators aren't making any sense, and usually you protest when they say the same thing over and over again, especially when it doesn't mean anything."

Hermione looked at the screen. They were indeed playing the same clip over and over again, and the commentators were taking turns saying different versions of the same nonsense. "Yeah, I've had kind a weird afternoon. I might just go read for a bit."

"Sure," said Ron. "That movie you like so much is on later if you want to watch it. What is it? Proud and polyjuiced?"

"Pride and Prejudice?" Hermione guessed.

"Right! That's it." Ron grinned at her.

"Yeah, if you don't mind, I'd love to watch it." Maybe Mr. Darcy would hold the answers to her dilemma. At any rate, he might make her feel better about trying to come up with the answers herself. That's what she needed in her life, a Mr. Darcy. Wait, Ron. Goodness he was right here and she had forgotten about him again! She looked at him. He really was quite attractive. He'd filled out so he didn't look so unnaturally tall, and of course being an Auror he had to be in great shape. Wondering why this had slipped her mind, she left the room on the pretense of reading a book for a while. Instead she re-read the Durmstrang letter again.

Later, Ron watched the beginning of Pride and Prejudice with her, but left for a while to work out before he showered and went to bed. When the movie was over, she went to bed too. Ron barely stirred when she laid down, and she didn't wake him up.

The next day, Hermione walked into the cafe and looked around for Ginny. She heard her before she saw her, well, she heard James. Following the sounds, she found Ginny and little James in a secluded corner of the restaurant, probably chosen so James wouldn't be getting in anyone's way.

"Aung-erminny!" James shouted when he caught sight of her, abandoning whatever snack he'd been busy throwing on the floor.

"Hi, James!" Hermione greeted him, plucking him out his chair so Ginny could clean up after him before he made a bigger mess. "Hi, Ginny," she said.

"Thanks, Hermione," said Ginny. "There's a reason why they call them the terrible two's."

Ginny finished gathering James's food on a napkin and went to toss it in the trash. "Sorry it's been so long since we've gotten together," she started.

"Yes," said Hermione, setting James back in his high chair. "Clearly, you've had so much time to yourself lately. I'm highly offended."

"I knew it." Ginny sighed dramatically, then grinned at her. "So you pretty much know what I'm up to all the time. James has gotten more mobile, which is both exciting and terrifying. He's started climbing up chairs, so I can't just set things up on the table if I want to keep them out of his reach."

Hermione winced. "That seems rough. Still, he's so cute."

"I know." Ginny smiled affectionately at her son. "So..." she said. "Does he ever give you any ideas of your own?"

"What?" asked Hermione.

"You know," said Ginny. "You and Ron have been together a long time. Ever think about giving James a little cousin?"

"Oh, no," said Hermione. "I mean, we're not ‒ that is... I want kids some day. I just don't think Ron and I are really there. I mean I've never considered it seriously. We're not even married."

"Don't you want to be?" asked Ginny. "I'm not trying to be rude. I'm just honestly curious. After Harry and I had been dating for a couple years I started to notice every little jewelry shop I passed. I couldn't take my eyes off them. And you've been with Ron for so long now... don't you get frustrated that he hasn't proposed?"

"Wow," said Hermione. "Just... wow. Um, no. I don't get frustrated. I honestly never think about it. I still... I feel like I want to get married and have kids some day, but I don't feel like some day is today, or even tomorrow. I'm happy with the way things are now. Or, I'm not unhappy. That counts for something, right?"

Ginny stared at her. "What happened to you, Hermione?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you used to be so driven. You went after everything you wanted like a fiend. You dazzled Ron, that's why he took so long to ask you out. But you got your ministry job, and you've stayed in the same place for, what, eight years? When did you start coasting?"

Hermione considered this. Had she been coasting? When did that start? " I don't know," she told Ginny. "I guess it wasn't too long after I started at the ministry. I was so driven because when we were in Hogwarts because it seemed like no one but me cared about the plight of the house elves, and I was so passionate about it because I thought someone needed to be and I didn't see anyone else working to change anything. And then when I got to the ministry, it turned out that people did care, and they were working. It's just so slow. But the people in the Department of Magical Creatures do care, and they are trying, and I think that they're making a difference. I just kind of feel like I never really cared so much about what I was doing as I felt that it needed to get done. Does that make sense?"

Ginny nodded. "So... where does that leave you? Are you gonna quit?"

"I... I don't know."

"Do you know what else you would want to do?"

"I'm not sure. I got ‒ yesterday something came... I have something potentially very important to tell you, but it's ‒ promise you won't tell?"

Slowly, Ginny nodded. And Hermione let it all spill out. How unfulfilled she had been feeling at her job, and about the offer from Durmstrang. "I just don't know what to do," she finished.

"What do you want to do? I mean it's far away, but it's not like you don't know how to apparate. Plus Krum said something about Portkeys... Have you ever thought about teaching before?"

"I used to, back at Hogwarts, but never seriously. Hogwarts was the only school I knew, and the only positions that looked like they'd be open in the near future were DADA and Potions, neither of which I was that interested in. So I just forgot about it. But you know I love helping others learn... and I just don't think I'd lose interest in that. It always needs doing."

"What does Ron think?"

"I haven't told him yet."

"Hermione!"

"I just got the letter yesterday! I needed some time to think about it... plus you know how he always felt about Viktor. I just didn't want to bring it up if I wasn't serious about it. It's been so long since we've fought about anything."

"Huh," said Ginny.

"Now what?"

"It's just... it really has been so long since you and Ron have fought about anything. You guys used to have a row about every other week, and now it's almost like neither of you cares." Hermione opened her mouth to object to this. "No!" said Ginny vehemently. "That's not what I meant... I meant that Ron used to get so jealous because he cared so deeply about you and he was worried that you didn't care as much about him, and you always got so mad because you cared so much about him that it hurt when he didn't seem to trust you. And now you're both so reasonable. Harry even mentioned it. He said that Ron is going out all the time with people from work, and you always tell him to have fun."

"Well, he should have fun. He works hard," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, it's just that he used to have fun with you."

"Maaaaa," interrupted James, who had been surprisingly quiet throughout this exchange, playing with his shoes.

"Oh, James," sighed Ginny, taking his shoes from his hands and putting them back on his feet. "Here, let's get you some lunch... Actually," she turned to Hermione, "we should get food too. We've been here, what 30 minutes already? Your lunch break is almost gone." She handed James some crackers and started to gather his things to go up to the counter.

"Stay here," said Hermione. "I'll get your soup and salad. Be back in a minute."

"Thanks!" Ginny called after her as she walked to the counter.

Since she had taken such a long lunch, Hermione worked a bit later into the evening than she normally did. When she finally made it home, she found Ron waiting for her in the kitchen.

"Something smells good," she commented as she walked in.

"Thanks," he said. "I made you dinner since I ditched you last night, sorry."

"It's really no problem," she told him. "What's up?"

"Well..." he began.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No," he said quickly to reassure her. "Nothing is wrong. I just... I think we need to talk."

"Okay," she said. "I actually have something I want to talk to you about too." Ginny was right, Hermione had decided. She definitely couldn't decide anything about Durmstrang without Ron, and even if she could, he deserved to know before she decided anything.

"Well, I have two-ish things," said Ron.

"It's not a contest," Hermione told him.

"I know." He waited a bit. "But I'm winning."

She laughed. "All right, you win. What did you want to talk about?"

"I think the same thing you do. I also started some laundry when I got home, and, well, I found these in your pockets." He pulled out a couple pieces of parchment and laid them on the table. From the handwriting, Hermione recognized the letters from the headmistress of Durmstang and Viktor Krum.

"I'm sorry," she said before he could say anything else. "I know I should've told you, but it was such a shock, I just needed some time to think it over. They just came yesterday. I swear, I'm not trying to hide anything from you." She held her breath. This was it, they were fighting again. It would be exhausting, but she had to be careful to get mad and first and cry later. She couldn't cry while he was shouting. That just made both of them feel bad. She braced herself for the shouting.

"I'm not mad, Hermione," Ron told her.

"What?"

"I'm not mad," he repeated.

"You're not?"

"No? Should I be?"

"Yes? I mean I didn't tell you. And I know how you feel about Krum."

"I used to be stupid about Krum," said Ron.

Hermione laughed as she relaxed. "Well, I always thought so."

"You were right. As usual." He winked at her. "So, are you going to do it?" he asked seriously.

"I can't. Right? I mean, I have a job. And a life here. Friends, all of whom live near London. And, you know, a boyfriend."

"Right, him," said Ron. "He's the other thing I kinda wanted to talk about."

"You want to talk about yourself?" Hermione was confused.

"No. Well, yes. Me and you. Do you feel like... I don't want to make you upset. You know I want you to be happy. But do you feel like... Lately I feel like we've become less boyfriend and girlfriend and more just... roommates." It was Ron's turn to hold his breath. He'd said the wrong thing, like he always used to. Now she was going to start yelling.

But to his surprise, she started laugh.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's not funny."

"I wasn't joking," said Ron.

"I know. I just... I've been feeling exactly the same way and then I'd feel so guilty about it! I thought it was just something wrong with me," she told him.

"Of course it's not just you. Do you even remember the last time we went on a date?"

Hermione thought about this. "Was it... last summer? Did we go to a fair?"

"Hermione, that was a year ago. I don't think we can reasonably say we're dating anymore."

"No, I guess you're right. So is this it for us?" Suddenly she was serious again. She didn't necessarily want to be dating Ron anymore, but he was her best friend, and had been for what felt like forever. She didn't want to lose him.

"I guess so," said Ron seriously. He paused for a minute. "We'll still be friends, right?"

"We'll always be friends, Ron. I don't think we know how to be anymore."

Ron grinned at her. "So, since we're still friends I have a question."

"What's that?"

"Well, I just broke up with my girlfriend, whom I'd been living with, and since we're such good friends, I was hoping you might let me stay with you for a while."

Hermione laughed. "Of course you can stay with me. She just kicked you out? How heartless."

"Anyway, I think we got on a tangent. We were talking about you and your job offer. How about I play Hermione's advocate?"

"My advocate?"

"Yeah, like when you were Neville's advocate when he didn't know what to do about Hannah."

Hermione laughed again, longer this time. "Ron, that's called playing the Devil's Advocate. It's when you take the opposite side of something to help someone to help them argue better or make a decision or something."

Ron's ears turned red. "Well, Hermione's advocate sounds nicer."

Hermione grinned at him. "Okay, you can be Hermione's advocate. What are you advocating?"

"Well, you listed a bunch of reasons not to go to Durmstang. One of them was because you had a boyfriend, and I already took care of that reason. What were the others?"

Hermioned blinked at the change of gears. "Well, I have a job here. A good one."

"This also sounds like a good job. Plus free rent."

"Yeah, but I mean, I have a job. I do work that's worth something. Why should I give that up?"

Ron looked at her. "Because you're not happy there, and I think you would love teaching the different challenges in a way that you don't love writing interracial policies. Plus, no offense, but there are plenty of people who can do that. But there aren't that many people who can do Arithmancy, let alone show others how to do it too. You were always great at helping Harry and me with our homework. Not all smart people can teach."

"But we don't even know if I can teach."

He scoffed at her. "Of course you can teach. You can do anything."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Be serious."

"I am serious! You got a time-turner when you were fourteen because there literally wasn't enough time in the day for you to everything. And even then you still kept me and Harry passing school. I think you could do it, and I think you could be really good at it."

"Okay," said Hermione. "So if the job were here I should take it. But my whole life is here in London. All my friends live here. I don't know anyone in Norway."

"Now that's not true," said Ron. "You have a friend in Norway who wrote you a follow-up letter about why you should come. Plus I think Fred and George have a location there now. And all your friends here have fireplaces and apparition licenses. It's not like you'd never see us."

"Fine, you win," said Hermione.

"Yes! I am just winning left and right today. First I had more things to talk about, and now this. I'm on a roll." Ron started to do a dance in his seat as the timer went off on the oven. "Dinner!" he announced.

When they had finished eating, Hermione gathered up the dishes.

"Do you really think I should go?" she asked Ron. "To Durmstrang?"

Ron shook his head.

"So I should stay here."

Ron shook his head again. "I think you should do whatever will make you happy. You're not happy where you are. If you think you'll be happy teaching Arithmancy, you should go. If you're not sold on that, then stay here and decide what you really do want to do."

"I'm not sure what I want to do. I don't want to stay at the DMC. But it's too soon to be sure about anything else."

"Then that's what you need to make your mind about."

A week and a half later, Hermione found herself walking up the street to the Burrow with Ron. "This was a terrible idea. We broke up. I shouldn't come to brunch anymore, and it's crazy that I came with you to tell everyone."

Ron pouted. "You're here because you're a bleeding heart and you couldn't abandon me to face everyone alone. Plus they all love you. If one of us stops getting invited to these things it'll probably be me."

Hermione laughed.

Later, after everyone had finished eating, Ron stood up. Hermione's heart started pounding. This was it. They couldn't put it off any longer; people would start leaving soon. Would everyone want her to leave? She shouldn't have eaten so much food. It was sitting very heavy in her stomach now.

"Hermione and I have an announcement," Ron began when everyone had turned to look at him. He opened his mouth to continue, but everyone had already begun talking over him.

"I knew it would be this year!" cried George, gleefully accepting a handful of galleons from Fred.

"We are so happy for you!" Audrey, Percy's wife, gushed.

Molly came over and enveloped both Ron and Hermione in a hug. She had tears glistening in her eyes. "I knew this day would come," she told them.

"You did?" asked Ron.

"Of course!" said Arthur. "We've always known you two would get married one day!" he said joyfully.

"What?" said Ron. "But we're not getting married."

The Weasleys didn't quiet down at this announcement. If anything, the noise grew.

"Nice one!" shouted Fred, taking his galleons (and a few more) back from George. "Good on you, Ron, bucking tradition!"

Mrs. Weasley let go of Ron and just hugged Hermione, the tears in her eyes beginning to leak out. "Oh, I'm so happy!" she cried. "Of course I'd hoped that you would get married before you got pregnant ‒"

"I'm not pregnant!" protested Hermione.

At this there was silence. Mrs. Weasley slowly let go of Hermione.

"Then what's your announcement?" asked Bill.

"We, ah... we broke up," Ron told them. "And Hermione is moving to Norway."

There was a beat of silence. Then, "Well, we can't blame you for wanting to ditch this git, Hermione," said Fred reasonably. "But there's no need to go all the way to bloody Norway. We'll all curse him for you." Ron punched him in the shoulder.

"Though really, I'm disappointed," said George. "One would think the brightest witch of her age could curse her ex herself."

"I'm not moving to get away from Ron," Hermione told them all. "I'm going to teach Arithmancy at Durmstrang Institute."

At this, there was another outbreak of everybody talking at once.

Six short weeks later, Hermione stepped out of an International Floo at the Norwegian Ministry of Magic in Oslo. Packed in her little beaded purse were all of her worldly belongings.

"Miss Granger!" Hermione turned to find a middle-aged woman with steely gray hair striding toward her. She was reminded forcibly of McGonagall. "I am Vera Laine. Welcome to Norway." She offered her hand.

Hermione shook it. "Thank you, Headmistress. I hope it's not too inconvenient for you to come take me to the school yourself."

"Of course not. I like to get to know my staff, and besides, it's not every day you get to met the famous Hermione Granger. Where are your bags?"

Hermione held up her purse. "It's just this one. Undetectable Expansion charm. Comes in pretty handy."

Laine nodded. "Very clever. I have not seen one so extensive before. Would you mind if I took a look at the bag after you unpack? I am sure our Charms professor would be interested in seeing it as well."

"Of course," said Hermione.

"Shall we?" Laine directed her in the direction of smaller fireplaces. "We are not Flooing directly to the castle, I hope you do not mind. We are going to a Wizarding pub in nearby Tromsø, and then taking the same boat the students do, though they are not here yet. I thought you would want to see the castle from outside first."

"That sounds lovely."

Durmstrang was huge. Hermione knew that it was about the same size of Hogwarts, but Hogwarts twisted around and you could never see all of it at once. Hogwarts was also inland. Any way you looked, there were miles of hills and trees and just land. Durmstrang dominated its island, towering at least twice as high again as the cliff its west edge appeared to almost be falling off.

When they reached the school, Laine showed Hermione to her living quarters, and politely excused herself so Hermione could rest and unpack. An hour later, there was a knock at her door. She opened it hesitantly. Who would be coming to greet her? She had yet to meet anyone besides the headmistress, who had promised to fetch her for dinner and introduce her to the staff currently in the castle.

"Viktor!" she exclaimed, leaning forward to embrace him. It had been many years since she had seen him in person, and she had to admit they had been kind to him. He didn't look nearly as grim as he had when she first saw him in the Quidditch World Cup so many years ago, and he'd stopped slouching as well.

"Hermione!" he greeted her.

"You learned to say my name!" she said.

"Of course," he told her. "How could I talk you up to everyone if I could not pronounce your name?"

She laughed. "It's good to see you."

"It is good to see you too," he replied. "Herm-own-ninny."

"If you call me that in public, I may have to hex you," she warned him.

"That is fair," he told her. "Would you like help unpacking?"

In her first week, she got lost five times a day, often resorting to the Point Me spell she had found for Harry their fourth year at Hogwarts. Eventually she learned her way from her rooms to the Dining Hall and front doors, and from there to her classroom and back again. She almost had the hang of navigating the castle when the students arrived and threw her all off, crowding the routes she wanted to take, making everything look different, and standing in front of landmarks she usually used to navigate.

And then, of course, classes started. Her lessons never went quite to plan, and while most of her students were fairly proficient in English, even with a translator always present, the language barrier was extremely frustrating. She was picking up some Norwegian, but not enough, and definitely not fast enough.

As a late birthday present, Fred and George sent her something they called a "Babble Bottle". If you drank out of it, supposedly it helped you understand any language spoken in your presence. However, they weren't sure of the long term effects yet, and it had the unfortunate side effect of making her ears grow to about twice their normal size. Still, it worked in a pinch and it definitely made her life easier. She resolved to buy them both something very nice for Christmas.

Before she even knew it, her first year was over. She spoke decent Norwegian, and was quite good friends with the woman who taught Ancient Runes. They had bonded when she admitted she had a copy of the first printing of the Tales of Beedle the Bard. Lessons had gotten easier to both plan and execute since the beginning of the year, though grading was still a nightmare. Fortunately she had the former Arithmancy professor, Philip Olsen, who was more than willing to help with that. Viktor also volunteered to help, but his lack of knowledge of Arithmancy made the task go even more slowly. Aside from attempting to help her grade, Viktor had made himself her own personal Bulgarian guide to Norway. He translated for her most of the time, and they spent hours and hours just talking. She didn't think she'd ever had a friend that she could confide in so easily. She speculated that it was because they already knew each other so well from having been pen pals for ten years, but Viktor maintained that it was just the nature of their relationship.

She was packing up the last of her clothes for the trip back to England for the summer, when there was a knock at her door. She remembered her first day there, unpacking and the same thing happened. This time there were any number of people it could be, any of the professors, Viktor, the headmistress, or even one of the straggling students who hadn't departed yet.

It was Viktor. Somehow Hermione was not surprised. She greeted him with a hug, as was her habit.

"Hermione," he began. "I wanted to come see you before you left. I will miss you while you're away."

"I'll miss you too," she said. "I can hardly believe we used to go years without seeing each other. It's hard to imagine just going these next couple of months without seeing you again."

"Don't go away for the whole two months," he blurted out.

"I was going to come back early to get ready for next year," she told him.

"No," he said. "That is not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?"

"I meant..." he sighed. "I am going to make as a big a fool of myself as I did when I was eighteen. Hermione, you know how I feel about you, how I have always felt about you."

"What?" she asked.

"I think you are the most beautiful woman in the world. I thought it ten years ago when we went to a ball together, and I still think it today. I have never felt this way about anyone else. Come visit me in Bulgaria. I want you to see my home."

Hermione had a sudden flash back to the first time Viktor had asked her that, and how she had almost carelessly refused him. Thinking back, and knowing him as well as she did now, she realized how much it must have cost him to ask in the first place, being such a private person, and she realized how deeply she must have hurt him when she said no.

"How did you ever work up the courage to start writing letters to me?"

"What?" he said, having expected a yes or no response. Well, he expected a no. But he had been hoping against hope for a yes.

"When we started writing to each other. I had rejected you already, how did you ever manage to send that first letter?"

"I did not want to let go of you entirely. I wrote you a letter and I held on to it for a long time before I sent it one day when I couldn't stand to keep it any longer. The second the owl left I wanted to get it back and destroy it, but what was done was done. And then a week later I received a response, and I could not help myself but to write to you again."

"Wow," she said. "Viktor, I am so flattered."

"Please, if you are going to say no, just say it. I will leave for Bulgaria for the summer, and when we come back next year, I will never mention this again."

"I'm not going to say no," she said.

"I understand. You have a life in England ‒ wait. What?"

"I said, I'm not going to say no. I want to go to Bulgaria with you."

"You want to come see my home with me?"

"Yes."

"Because you are a good friend and you don't want to make me sad by refusing me."

"Because you think I am the most beautiful girl in world, and I want to hear you say things like that more often."

And then she was kissing him.

fin