A/N: The scarcity of stories for this pairing caused me to realize i needed to contribute! I hope i did them justice.

Hermione brushed her curly brown hair absentmindedly, watching the sun as it rose, spreading pinks and oranges over the horizon. Since the last battle, and after all that camping she and the rest of the 'Golden Trio' had done, she was unable to sleep through the sunrise. All those days on the run. All those days spent hiding. She never really stopped looking over her shoulder.

Nowadays she spent her time working among the same men and women she had admired all throughout the war. Hermione Granger, Auror. It felt good to say, and sounded strong.
Harry and Ron had both wanted to join her, but only Harry had qualified, and so Ron followed his little sister, and love of Harry's life, Ginny Weasley, into the world of professional Quidditch.

Their red and gold uniforms tended to clash with their fierce orange hair, but Hermione couldn't deny they made a wonderful addition to the Hollyhead Harpies.
As she made her way done to her kitchen, a wave of her wand turning on the coffee machine, she let out a sigh. Her boss, Kingsley Shackbolt had informed her in no uncertain terms, she would be interviewed today. He hadn't said which paper wanted to bug her and distract her from her work, but she had a bad feeling about the Daily Prophet. Ever since the days of Harry being "Enemy Number 1" on the front page for months, she didn't tend to enjoy reading through the paper. She preferred to use her 'muggle' tech of a laptop and read her news that way. Promptly her coffee pot hummed, indicating the caffeinated ambrosia was ready.

She knew Harry and Ron didn't understand the fascination, but she knew she had inherited the love of coffee from her father, who never went a day without a big mug of black coffee. He used to joke it was strong enough to dissolve any spoon, that's why he couldn't add sugar. She knew better. As dentists, her parents both did their best to avoid any extraneous sugar.
Her ambrosia finally downed, she quickly returned to her bedroom, pulling out a fresh set of work robes, first slipping on a plain black skirt and deep red blouse underneath. Her plain black Mary Janes peeked out from under her black robes, the shine of the freshly polished leather winking in the sunlight as she walked out of her cottage to her little light blue automobile. She lived about 30 miles outside London, and thus the Underground and the Ministry. She had made a few adjustments, as Mister Weasley had to his muggle Ford Angelia, back during the Golden Trio's second year. It drove quickly and could turn invisible with a tap if her wand, but she hadn't given it flight. The invisibility was merely a strong Disillusionment charm, and it helped her if she needed to speed...not that she actively tried to break the law.

Arriving at her office inside the Ministry, she barely had time to set her bag down before Kingsley strode up to her, seemingly out of thin air.
"Go up to conference room 57, they're waiting for you." His deep voice held no hint as to the identity of the paper. She sighed deeply, and hoisted up her bag again,
"If they annoy me at any time with any prying questions, I will make sure you know about it. Also, I will not be helping you with any Rune translation that you need. For a month."
Her vast knowledge of Runes had been very helpful in their last case, and she knew without her help, Kingsley would be forced to actually do his own research. It was just like being back at Hogwarts, having to refuse to help Harry and Ron with their homework.
His deep chuckle startled her from her haughty stance, and he couldn't resist nudging her shoulder,
"You'd better get a move on Auror Granger, if you're late they won't be pleased."
She smiled reluctantly at him, unable to pretend to be mad for very long.

Xenophilius Lovegood carefully stepped back, observing his setup for the upcoming interview. He had been surprised and delighted when Luna gave him the idea of talking to Hermione, rather, interviewing her, for a follow-up on how things were settling in the Ministry, and in her life. Luna kept in touch with all three of the Trio, more with Harry than the others, as they had always been close. Her father had interviewed Harry and Ginny a week previous, and had been overjoyed to see the love between them flourishing, and they were soon to become a true family, Ginny had been unable to hide her glow. Xenophilius had guessed that she had been drinking fresh nettle tea, as there was a large nettle plant growing nearby Harry's childhood house.
She had blushed and nodded, confirming his guess. Nettle tea helped the newborns while in the womb, improved blood flow, and encouraged healthy brain growth.
She had told him they were planning to keep the identity of the baby's sex a mystery, just for fun. Harry had smiled at her, but whispered to Xenophilius,
"I'm hoping for a girl."
He had given them his best wishes, and assured them he would keep it secret until they were ready to tell their friends.

Meanwhile, Xenophilius pulled out a fresh quill, scribbled the date and interviewees name and occupation at the top of the long scroll he had set out on the table, and he glanced at the clock on the wall, in ten seconds, Miss Granger, no, Auror Granger, he reminded himself, would be late.

Hermione raced down the hall, barely catching the lift and swiftly punched the correct floor buttons. She looked at her watch, slightly panicked, she had only 40 seconds to make it to the conference room or she would run the risk of irritating her interviewer. That wasn't the best way to start off on a good foot.
She skidded to a stop outside the room, taking a moment to straighten her robes, and patted her hair down hastily. She threw open the door, hoping to present an impressive image, but stopped short at the sight of a man with long flaxen hair, wild bright yellow robes, and a very long scroll of parchment spread on the large table in front of her.
"Mister Lovegood!" She exclaimed, and he lifted his head, smiling dreamily at her.
He stood and gave her a small bow,
"Auror Granger. Very pleasing to see you again. How are you doing today? Not been troubled by any blubbering humdingers?"
She stifled a giggle.
"Not that I know of. I had no idea the Quibbler was the paper interviewing me, Kingsley kept quiet, letting me assume I would be talking to the Prophet. Frankly I'm glad it's you, er, your paper."
He nodded to her,
"Thank you. Now, I don't know if you read the last issue, but I already spoke to Mister Potter and Missus Potter, nee Weasley, so you were the next logical member to speak with. Mostly it will be like a conversation, any question that fuzzes your vision you don't need to worry about answering."
Hermione sat, still puzzling over what Xenophilius had said, but she smiled, eager to begin.
He cleared his throat, shook out his quill hand, and began to write.
"Auror Granger,-"
"Hermione, please Mister Lovegood."
"Of course, Hermione. How have you been enjoying your career choice? Was it in your mind when you were finishing school?"
Hermione smiled,
"Honestly, I had originally wanted to be in Muggle studies, perhaps a teacher or simply a Healer, in the world. But after my seventh year, or lack of, I changed my mind. I think we all rearranged our priorities after the War."
Xenophilius nodded thoughtfully, writing quickly,
"Tell me, when you knew it was over, how did you feel?"
Hermione shifted in her seat, not sure if the question made her vision fuzzy, but it did make her heart ache.
"Well, mostly relief. But I was realistic. I had hardly suffered losses. Many of my friends had lost their families, or part of them. I knew my family was safe. Not many had that assurance. It hurt, seeing all the lives lost in the name of thoughtless evil. Voldemort thought he was purifying wizardkind, but he was really just killing anyone who couldn't bear to see innocents suffer. After all, if the Malfoys hadn't left when they did, or if they had showed their true colors, they would have been killed on the spot, no matter how pure their blood. I mean, I don't know if Harry told you, but Narcissa saved Harry, saved him from being discovered before the right moment." She hugged her arms to her chest, and her eyes fell shut, doing her best to hold in the tears.

Xenophilius frowned at himself. He lifted his hand from the parchment.
"Forgive me, I did not mean to stir up pain." He stood, pulling a gold edged handkerchief from his pocket, striding over to where she sat, curled around herself, and he held it out to her.
"It holds no magic, but does absorb sadness." He said quietly, and she looked up at him, smiling sadly, her brown eyes sparkling with tears,
"I'm sorry, I thought I was beyond ready to talk about it. It's just, it still feels like just yesterday. I mean, Remus and Tonks had just had their son, and he barely got to know them..." She broke off, unable to finish.
She reached up taking the handkerchief from him, sniffing a bit.
When her hand brushed his, he was surprised to feel a spark like being bitten by a gnome; he felt a rush of warmth spread through him.
"Keep it as long as you need."
Hermione nodded silently, and wiped her tears away with it, slightly dazed, but happy to see her makeup charms held.
Xenophilius made his way back to his side of the table, picking up the scroll, rolling it up tightly.
"We can pick this up later Miss Granger, Hermione, I apologize. This interview can be in next month's issue. Perhaps we could finish it in a week or so?"
Hermione smiled at him,
"Yes, that will give me time to wash this, and give it back to you." She shook the handkerchief at him, but he shook his head.
"Keep it. Luna got it for me from Paris. I'll ask her for another for Christmastide. She'll understand. It went to a good owner." His light green eyes shined with amusement and she shrugged,
"If that's what you wish."
He set his large hand on her shoulder, the warmth seeping through her robes, and into her skin, and she couldn't hide a blush.
"Don't worry. You should do that more. You look like a blooming rose kissed your cheeks." He gestured to her blush and she looked away, embarrassed.
"Well thank you. I'm sorry the interview didn't go as planned." She let out a quiet laugh.

He packed up the rest of his things, and she slipped her bag over her shoulder.
He slipped past her to pull open the door, gesturing for her to go first; she took it and gave it a firm shake.
"Give me a call, or an owl rather, and we'll arrange something." He looked directly at her, and the intensity of his stare made her knees a bit weak.
"Of course. Have a good rest of the day Hermione." Her name sounded like an exotic creature the way he said it.
She liked that.