Office Romance

Hermione, aged twenty-two, stretched behind her desk. She was transcribing from shorthand an interrogation of a suspected former Death Eater, and her wrist was cramping. And the matters discussed in the interrogation hadn't been very pleasant. She wished Harry didn't have to do these things. She knew he hated it just as much as she hated recording it.

Harry was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Hermione was his secretary. He hadn't originally wanted her to do this; he was afraid she'd feel inferior to him. She had told him again and again that she knew he didn't think she was inferior, and that he didn't have to keep bringing it up.

Hermione's fiancé worked in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement as well. He was Head of the Auror's Division. It was nearly twelve; Ron would be here any minute...

The door opened. "Hello, 'Mione," said Ron. He grinned at her. Hermione mock-glared. He knew she hated any attempt to give her a nickname. "Want to go out for lunch?" The Ministry of Magic buildings were on Profession Alley, just off Diagon Alley. There were several restaurants nearby. Ron kissed her.

"No snogging in the office," said Harry as he stepped through the other door. "And I'll have you know she isn't allowed anywhere until she finishes transcribing that. I can't read shorthand."

"Wish you could," said Hermione. "Then you could write these, and I wouldn't have to be spending all my time doing this."

"What is it?" asked Ron. He looked over what she had so far and winced. "He really said that?"

"That's confidential," said Harry. Harry hadn't originally wanted a job at the Ministry; he knew they were just hiring him because he was famous. But Ron and Hermione had convinced him to take a job in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with them, and he had, on the condition that he started as an Auror and worked his way up like anyone else would. He had been promoted very quickly to Head of the Department.

"I caught him. Besides, I was at the interrogation. I heard that. I just didn't believe it."

"Neither did I," said Hermione. "Even after Voldemort's defeat, when we all know he's dead, they still think that..."

Harry had defeated Voldemort just before they left Hogwarts. They'd both helped him, despite his protestations that he couldn't lead them into danger. Now, almost five years later, Hermione still had nightmares, and Ron still had a limp from a curse that had missed him, but hit his leg. And Harry ... Harry wouldn't talk about it. He would interrogate Voldemort's supporters, for they still existed, but he wouldn't talk about him at another other time. He was silent now, and Ron quickly changed the subject.

"Want to go for lunch with us, Harry? Hermione's transcribing can wait."

"And spend the entire time watching you two trying to refrain from snogging each other senseless because I'm there? No thanks, however entertaining it might be. And that can not wait. I need it by two o'clock."

"We won't take much more than an hour, and I've finished things like this in half an hour, you know I have," Hermione begged. "Please?"

Harry laughed. "Get back here by one o'clock, then," he warned them, grinning, "or I may not let you do this ever again."

"Trying to steal my girl, are you?" Ron teased, and he and Hermione headed out of her office to the wizarding restaurant down the street.