Life As We Know It

Chapter 1

With well-rehearsed fingers, Hermione Granger unfastened her black equipment vest and tossed it onto the couch. She sighed deeply and sank into a well stuffed armchair, her tight dark clothing standing out against the pale blue upholstery. Pulling the fastener out of her hair, she nimbly unwove the braid and ran her fingers through the slightly flattened brown curls. To her delight, as her body had entered puberty, her hair had decided to also undergo a transformation, and the typically unruly mass of hair had, to her delight, begun to curl rather than frizz, and now, at twenty-eight, Hermione was blessed with a halo of chestnut curls, that, when left untied, hung to the middle of her back.

In recent months, however, Hermione's hair spent most of its time pulled back in a tight braid, the only truly safe way to wear it in her profession. Hermione, like her two best friends, had begun Auror training in the middle of their last year at Hogwarts. Recently, a surge of Dark Magic had occurred and many attributed this to yet another rising of Lord Voldemort. Hermione didn't doubt the rumors, and they terrified her. Voldemort seemed more powerful each time they encountered him, and she feared the day he next attacked, knowing full well that Harry was a prime target.

As Crookshanks leapt into her lap and settled in for a nap, Hermione let her mind wander over her current situation. The Three Musketeers were still banded together; she, Ron, and Harry all served the Ministry of Magic as Aurors, though both boys dreamed of leaving the stressful job and joining a Quidditch team. Harry and Ron lived together in a flat not far from the one she shared with her roommate. Not surprisingly, Hermione had, upon graduation, worked her way through a series of roommates. She knew full well she wasn't the easiest person to live with, as she was still too smart for her own good. Thankfully, she had found herself a perfect roommate while walking the halls of the Ministry of Magic Headquarters before a meeting. Rounding a corner of the Department of Law Enforcement, she had nearly run into one of her closest friends, Ginny Weasley. Ginny was also employed by the department, though Hermione still wasn't sure of her exact position, due to highly secretive policies. After a quick discussion, both women discovered they were without roommates (as Ginny's dazed state was due to the news that her roommate was leaving the country on assignment), and the two had lived together for nearly three years since.

"Hermione?" came Ginny's soft voice. "Are you awake?"

Hermione smiled and opened her eyes. "Yeah," she replied. "Just lounging for a while."

"You've been so tired lately. Ever thought of taking a day off?"

Hermione laughed. "Ginny, you know as well as I do how that would go over. Besides, if I call in sick, you know that Harry and Ron would be here in two seconds flat."

Ginny chuckled and nodded. "That they would." She reached over and scratched Crookshanks behind the ear. "I hope you don't mind, but I ran into Ron today at work and invited him and Harry over for supper. If those two are anything like you, they're probably too exhausted after work to cook a decent meal for themselves."

Hermione smiled, knowing how enjoyable their meals as a foursome had become. "That sounds wonderful, Ginny. Just let me get changed out of this dreadful uniform and shower and I'll join you in the kitchen," she said, dumping Crookshanks off her lap and standing, attempting to brush the orange hair off of her clothing.

The taller woman shook her head. "That uniform in and of itself is enough to make me glad I'm not an Auror. You look gorgeous in it. But I'm afraid it would show every bump and bulge this body has. I'm just waiting for the day when my mother's genes set in."

Hermione gave Ginny the once over. Standing nearly 5'10", Ginny had nothing to complain about. Her body was round where it should be round, firm where it should be firm. Her red hair was cut in a soft bob, curling under at her shoulders. Like all the Weasleys, her face was dusted with freckles, and her eyes always seemed to sparkle. "Ginny, I don't know what you're talking about. Besides," she laughed. "You think there aren't a few spells attached to this thing?" A few simple clothier's spells kept any figure flaws in check.

Ginny tapped her lips pseudo-pensively, a smile threatening to break the image. "Hmm... perhaps I'll have to try that."