You've Got Owls!

You've Got Owls

Chapter One

"Ms. Granger," the meek, sandy-headed young man stammered, "Ms. Granger...c-call on l-line one..." The auburn-haired witch sitting at the desk looked up, brown eyes flickering in amusement.

"Thank you," she said, motioning to him that it was okay to leave. She watched him pull back from the cubicle entrance and tear off in a whirl of blue robes before picking up her wand. "Communicato," she whispered under her breath, and watched as a short, bright red puff of smoke twirled from the wand's end, forming a glowing, cloudy orb at eye level. The smoke shifted to form a round head, unruly curls, two bright eyes - the face of Ronald Weasley.

"Morning, 'Mione," Ron chirped.

"Ron!" she exclaimed indignantly. "What did you say to Henry?" She watched as a guilty smile crept over his face.

"New secretary?"

"Yes."

"I have a knack for guessing a new guy," he smirked.

"What did you say?" she insisted, laughing.

"They're supposed to be Aurors, Hermione, and frankly, I don't think he should be on your staff if a simple wand call gets him all nervous like that," Ron said, with an arrogant air of professionalism.

"You're one to speak!" she snorted. "You've never even been inside an Auror firm! Besides, everyone gets jitters on their first day."

"It's not his first day." She blanched for a moment, and then shot him an evil glare.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, and then sighed in resignation. "So maybe he's not the most qualified Auror, Ron, but you know how the Ministry is. Our firm is so small they send us all the leftovers - either too inexperienced or too old to even get up from their desks. I have to work with what I get!"

"Yeah," Ron nodded, agreeing. "I'm sure Malfoy never has that problem..." he sneered. Hermione glowered at the mention of her rival's name.

"Oh!" she burst out. "I can't get away from that darned name! All I ever hear from Fudge is 'look how well Malfoy's firm is doing' and 'did you hear about the captures Malfoy's firm just made?' or 'who knows, Malfoy's firm may even catch the Dark Lord on its own!' You'd think there should be some kind of fan club."

"There is, I'm sure," Ron laughed, eyes flickering. "And Fudge is probably a card-carrying member."

"But seriously! It's not my fault that I didn't have a mountain of an inheritance to build my firm on...I can't buy all that high-tech gear...so automatically the Ministry sends me the incompetent Aurors!" Hermione exclaimed. Then, clapping a hand over her mouth, she looked anxiously over her cubicle wall to see if anyone was listening. Luckily, all the other Aurors were sitting at their desks, too enthralled by the parchment files of Dark wizards or too busy inspecting potentially dangerous objects to listen in on her wand conversation. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she continued, "I hardly got enough grants from the Ministry to get owl service hook-up here, for Merlin's sake! And I'm lucky when the wand service operates well enough so I can actually see who I'm speaking to, not just a bunch of grainy bubbles of red." She sighed at the end of her tirade and leaned back, leafing nonchalantly through the file she was just running.

"Had a stressful day?" her friend asked cheerfully. She just gave the image a glare. "Speaking of owl service, how come Pig can never find you at your office?"

"Ministry," she snorted. "All Auror offices have to go by pseudonyms for owl services...for confidentiality...and no, you can't have Vanessa's."

"Vanessa?" Ron asked indignantly, pulling an innocent face. "Who said I was going to owl Vanessa? I mean, just because she's so incredibly hot and sweet and I can't stop thinking about her since we met..."

"Ron," Hermione said testily.

"Yes?"

"I'll send you her number," she replied.

"Number?" he gave her a blank look.

"Wand, you idiot! I'll give you her wand number and you can ring her, and arrange a date." Ron beamed.

"Oh, I love you Hermione!" he exclaimed. There was a faint ringing in the distance, and the connection crackled as he turned to speak to someone beside him. "Got to go...but Harry says 'hi'..."

"Okay, cheers," she said, smiling as the bright red cloud dissolved with a click, sucking back into her wand.

She got up, picked up her empty coffee cup and decided to take a quick break and pay a visit to the owl room. Stacking her file neatly on the side of her cluttered desk, she left the cubicle and walked briskly between the other offices, wherein several of her employees were searching through similar files with various stages of frustration furrowing their brows. With a sigh, she approached the large, pot-bellied coffee machine near the owl room door, placed her cup underneath the nozzle and pointed her wand. She watched, tapping her foot, as steaming, fresh-ground coffee in the kind of her choice (decaf, sugar and cream) came spilling in brown rivers into her cup. When the cup was full, she pointed the wand again and it stopped. Taking the cup, she pushed open the door to the owlery and stepped in.

The room was tiny, painted a dismal blue gray, and the epitome of a mess. Six small, disgruntled owls sat in their rooks, looking very unhappy and in need of a good bath. On the other side of the room, a dozen slots for parchments were spilling with mail, where nobody really bothered looking because mostly they just got bills and eviction notices. Hermione sighed, adjusted her glasses, and went to her carefully labeled In-Box, the only one that was remotely clean, since she sorted it out every day, before going home. She took some paper out and a quill, and sat down at the desk to jot her quick letter.

Dear Ron -

Vanessa's number...234-567. DON'T call her during office hours! Oh, and she has this thing for Italian food. Good luck.

She did not bother to sign her name, knowing Ron would recognize the neat script and, of course, the letter's subject matter. She folded the parchment, called down an owl and tied it carefully to its leg. Then, with a half-hearted pat, she took it to the window and sent it out.

Turning away, she went to sort through the box, figuring she might as well get through it while she was there. Besides, anything was more productive than the investigation she was working on. Perhaps, if she stayed here long enough, Vanessa or Carl might get a sniff of something.

Research was something that most Aurors detested. Most of them yearned constantly to be in the face of danger. Hermione, on the other hand, usually loved to sift through endless stacks of information on a particular dark wizard or witch, running up complicated searches and running around Diagon Alley all day from library, to Ministry headquarters to record house, books stacked in her hands. Of course, she could easily handle being in the area of danger, seeing as her frequent run-ins with dark lords of all sorts had left her basically unafraid of most thing Voldemort. Many were, in fact, in awe of her calm and composure in the face of dark power. If there was something she knew how to do right, it was know her facts and keep her head in any situation.

Not the case with Malfoy. While her firm was known for being precise and determined, Dragon Enterprises Co. was known for its quick action. Malfoy was known to make reckless decisions that put many at risk, but most of all himself, and for an evilly convenient grasp of a Dark wizard's mind.

Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy. Hermione huffed, sorting through the mail. It's not like he's done anything brilliant. So he has a flashy office, and the most connections in the entire Ministry. But really...

She jumped to hear the ruffle of feather and see a brown blur tumble through the window. The owl squaked in indignition and dropped a letter in her hands before hurrying off to its roost. Hermione looked at the heavy, cream-colored envelope in her hands, wondering. This was not Ron's cheap, fly-by-night handwriting on the front. In fact, it was flowing and very...sophisticated. Not to mention the silver snake embossing on the edge of the envelope. Curiously, she ripped open the envelope and took out the letter.

Dear 'Hgrnger27',

I am sorry, but I believe your owl was a bit confused. Perhaps you should have included a name on the letter, next time?

Sincerely,

London557

Hermione turn instantly red, and looked at her own letter, which had been stapled to the new one. How could she have been so dumb! The company owl did not know where to go...

Luckily, it had found an office (apparently, from the Auror pseudonym) before getting lost entirely. She smiled at her own blunder, and decided to mail the kind person who had returned the letter back. It was not just anyone who would bother to reply to an accident letter...

Dear London557,

I apologize for my mistake! I suppose I was just feeling a little flustered from work. You are an Auror too, so you must know how it gets. Anyhow, I hope it wasn't any inconvenience to you.

Deeply sorry,

HG

She recalled the owl and tied the new letter to its leg, then sent it off. Then she called a new owl to her side, addressed Ron's letter and sent it off. Breathing deeply, she took a sip of her coffee and grabbed the rest of her mail, leaving the room.

*

Later that evening, the office was entirely empty, but Hermione still sat hunched at her desk, glasses shoved aside as she rubbed her bleary eyes, scanning a thick book. The light above her wavered. She looked up in annoyance as it flickered, and stifled a yawn. Looking at the clock, she realized how late it was and decided to call it a day. Closing the book, she gathered her purse and wand. By her purse was a forgotten stack of letters - the usual bills and such - waiting to be mailed. With a sigh, she gathered them up and swung by the owlery before turning off the lights.

Inside, she sent her letters off and was just about to leave when she noticed a large envelope hanging out of her In-Box. With a grunt of exasperation, she turned and took it out. Recognizing the silver embossing, she smiled.

Dear HG,

It was no inconvenience at all! In fact, you gave me a reason to take well-deserved break from some fierce concentration. Yes, I am an Auror, and I know how these days can be. We're all feeling the press of the war, aren't we? Oddly enough, your little mishap brought me some warmth, and so I have enclosed a little gift of gratitude. Hopefully, we can continue this correspondence. I am intrigued by your owl - she is a hapless creature indeed!

Sincerely,

London577

Hermione could not stop a small spout of laughter from escaping her mouth at this last sentence. With a glance at Gargoyle, her owl, she sighed with merriment. Then she remembered the "gift" and looked around for it in confusion.

The word on the parchment had begun to glow an odd blue color. The light seeped from the paper and formed the shape of a rose in midair. Hermione watched as the light turned into a solid, beautiful white rose before her eyes. With a gasp, it fell and landed in her hands. She held it up to the light, wonder and amusement shining in her eyes.

The rose seemed to sparkle with life. She watched curiously as it glistened in the half-light, a more beautiful thing never before having graced the earth. She drew in her breath as a smile spread across her face.

Tucking the letter and the rose carefully into her purse, she decided to wait until the next morning to send a reply, and left the owlery, locking the door and heading for the broom closet. There she drew out her long, slender broom, recently trimmed, got on and brushed through the open window into the air above the Diagon Alley Business District.