Hermione was broke. There was no other word for it. Being the brightest witch of her age did not mean that she was the richest witch of her age. Finding work had been harder after the war. It turned out that not everyone wanted to hire someone who made them look bad. She had no idea why. Every interview she had, she was turned away with a polite 'thanks but no thanks'. It was more than a little frustrating yet here she was, tweaking her CV yet again to try and get another round of out before the end of the day.

If she didn't find work soon, she was going to have to find somewhere else to live. The bills were racking up too and there was no way she could remain in this situation for much longer. She had even reached out to Harry, one of the Aurors but there was nothing he could do to find her a position within the Ministry. She was stuck!

Head in her hands, she allowed herself a moment of complete despair. Resisting the urge to cry, she took several deep breaths and tried her best to push the growing bleakness of her situation to the side. She was always so good at staying positive in the face of desperate situations; she could sure use some of that now. Letting out a deep sigh, she rose up and headed to make a cup of tea, hoping it would soothe her worries, if only for a little while.

When she returned to the living room of her grungy little flat, there was a new letter waiting for her. Picking it up, she recognised the handwriting though she couldn't place where from. She sank onto the worn couch and turned the parchment envelope over in her hands. A neat hand had penned her name on the front with her address.

Turning it over, she popped the seal on the back and read a short note.

'Dear Hermione,

It had come to my attention that you are down on your luck and struggling to find work. A sorry state of affair in my humble opinion. I also have a mutual acquaintance who is in need of someone to look after his family. I put two and two together and have attached the address below. I've also sent a similar letter to the acquaintance informing him of your imminent arrival.

Yours

Albus Dumbledore.'

So that was where she had seen the writing before. She took a sip of the tea and thought about what the letter said. She had never considered teaching or looking after children before and wondered whether she would be able to turn her hand to it. She also wondered about who the mutual acquaintance was. It would have to be someone from school but that could be anyone. Ginny and Harry didn't yet have children, Ron was off around the world while Lavender looked after the kids at home so it couldn't be them either.

Her curiosity was certainly piqued and so she decided there and then that she would check it out. She could always turn it down if it wasn't to her liking… yeah right, and then she would be out on the streets for sure.

The address and time were printed on the back; the meeting was set for the morning at eleven. Pressing her lips together, she noticed that she needed to take her belongings with her as the position was that of a live-in governess.

By the time the next day came around, Hermione had convinced herself that this was the only way forward and without this job, she would be out of her flat. She had no option but to go and tackle the new challenge with all the courage she could find within her. How difficult could it be looking after children?

Apparating to the address was no problem at all; there was a point just by the house. She had to double check as the place she had arrived at was huge. It was not quite a stately home but it came damned close. It looked like a miniature castle with a crenelated roof and narrow windows. There was a low wall surrounding the front of the grounds, which trailed off around the back. She couldn't see where the large estate ended.

Pressing her lips together, she opened the wrought iron gate and headed up the gravel path to the front door. When she tapped on the door, the sound of barking could be heard from inside. The door was opened by a small house elf and she blinked, looking down at the creature. "Hello," she said, "I'm here about the position as a governess."

"Right miss, Follow me," the little thing said.

Hermione was led into a plush looking sitting room and made to sit on one of the chairs. The elf, whose name was Poppy, promised to return in a little while with the mistress and master of the household. She still had no idea who it might be and so turned her attention to what was in the room.

There was precious little to help her or give anything away, a thick red carpet cushioned her feet and the couch she was on could only be described as plush. Light cream walls were covered in pictures, most of them showing different children at different stages of their lives. All but one of them had light blonde curly hair. The youngest had straight black hair and a severe face, though they were smiling at the person taking the picture. A single light hung from the ornate ceiling and Hermione was impressed with the idea of wealth as she sat in the room. Whoever lived here had a lot of money and was not afraid to show it. A horrible thought that it might be Lockhart struck her and her stomach sank. If it turned out to be him, she would up and leave!

Hearing footsteps outside the room, she straightened in her chair and leaned forward a little, eager to find out who it was she would be working for. The door opened and her eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat and she knew her eyes had widened. "You!" she said blinking, unable to say anything else for the time being.