The Aurors And The Bookworm

The Aurors And The Bookworm

by Raine Lionheart

Inspired by Anneth Lagamo's Artwork

In the spirit of tradition, and in the fondness of memories, Professor Hermione Granger of Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry elected to herself that today, on a spry August the twenty-seventh, she wanted a little bit of ice cream. And she, like the rest of the wizarding community of the Isle of Great Britain knew that the best ice cream around was at Florean Fortescue's. With this added incentive, she packed a few things into her book tote and left her office, heading towards the Entrance Hall.

Today could not have been a finer choice for an excursion to Diagon Alley, she decided the moment the front doors of the castle opened. Nary a cloud in the sky; the sun sat at it's zenith; the air was warm and neutral. Hermione sighed with contented ease as she strode down the grass toward the gates of the school. There, she would be able to Apparate to Diagon Alley, and to the awe-inspiring ice cream. Which she did, with a faint pop.

She arrived just outside of Flourish And Blotts, a bookstore she was rather fond of. Urging herself away from this place took much willpower, but soon Hermione was seated at Florean Fortescue's with her hands wrapped around a large chocolate and raspberry sundae. At the same time, her book tote had, it would seem, exploded. Dozens of books were stacked on the table in front of her; volumes of ancient wizard lore; teaching texts for her Transfigurations course; tomes of various potions and ingredients... Should anyone she knew very well pass by, they would not be surprised by the sight.

After all, Hermione Granger, professor or not, had always been a bookworm, since before her days at Hogwarts. She'd begun reading at a late age, ironically enough (Ronald Weasley had once commented that she'd likely been born with a bookmark in her hand). By the time she'd received her first Hogwarts letter (almost exactly eighteen years ago) her personal library had rivalled her studious father's. And now, she was one of four living people, perhaps who could claim to have read the entirety of Hogwarts' library (having finished the last book two weeks ago).

To say that Hermione Granger was studious, and that she fancied books, was a grave understatement. Therefore, the two Aurors on partol of Diagon Alley that day were pleasantly surprised to find that their old friend had not changed in the slightest.

"A mountain I have not seen in over a decade," one familiar voice commented, and at first, Hermione ignored it.

However, the second voice was also familiar, and this time, Hermione listened. "No, not since seventh year."

The first voice said, "Not even during our first set of exams did we see that many books," and Hermione decided to glance a look.

Standing on the other side of the table, peering around one column of books each, were two young, yet accomplished looking Aurors. One, the second voice, had a shag of black hair that came down past his ears. Behind wire-framed glasses were emerald eyes that shone under the bright summer sun. A smile was etched upon his face.

This was Harry Potter, the most famous and humble wizard of all the world. The Destroyer Of Voldemort and the Bringer Of The Light. And now, a world-class Auror, trained from the years he spent fighting Voldemort until the Dark Lord's downfall at the end of their seventh year in Hogwarts.

His companion, the first one to speak, was a tall, muscular red-head with bright blue eyes and a broad grin that reached his ear. This one was a prankster, Hermione could tell, without even putting the Weasley name to his face. Had she not known him before, she would have guarded herself against him and his grin.

"Hello Hermione," said Ron Weasley. "It's been a while."

For a second, Hermione was in a state of shock. However, she shook it off and gave the duo a warm smile.

"Harry, Ron! It has been a while."

"A long while," Harry quipped.

Still smiling, still in a slight state, Hermione said, "You two look fantastic. You wear the uniforms rather well."

They both blushed and uttered a meek "Thank you" in such a manner that Hermione was suddenly transported to their fifth year, when both of them - no, all three of them - were awkward teenagers.

"And you're at Hogwarts, if I'm not mistaken," Ron said. "Somehow I'm not surprised. You were born to teach."

In her mind, Hermione felt a jaw drop at the smooth delivery of that compliment. Twelve years ago he would never have gotten that statement out with less than a stutter and a deep blush.

"Teaching Transfigurations?" Harry asked, gesturing to the books piled atop the table.

"Yes, I am. Professor McGonagall had to sack Holland Raymus after he transfigured Isaac Malfoy into a guinea pig during one of his classes last winter. They owled me immediately."

"Isaac Malfoy?" Harry spat.

"Eldest of the new Malfoy-Parkinson family," Hermione said. "His father is still a prat, but at least he doesn't practice the Dark Arts any longer."

"Hmph." Harry had never come to terms with the fact that Draco Malfoy had been on their side during the last battle against Voldemort.

"I suppose you're enjoying it?" Ron asked.

"Yes, I am. It's simply divine." She gestured to the enormous pile of books before her. "I've got to decide on which of these I'm introducing my NEWT students to for revision. So I'm reading them all."

"Even reading your own book?" Ron smirked. "How Lockhart of you."

Honoring him with her patented glare, Hermione asked, "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, come off it Hermione," he snorted. "I've known you were Shay Jewel since that book came out."

Blushing furiously, she asked, "How?"

Grinning back at her, and secretly pleased at himself for finally outsmarting her, Ron answered, "Easy. Nobody else would use an anagram of H. J. Weasley for a pen-name."

Hermione felt the horror creep up in her chest as Ron leaned over and whispered, "Rest assured, I've always thought that it would sound good."

Harry, meanwhile, had picked up the book and was working the word-puzzle out in his head. "You're right Ron. I don't know why I didn't figure it out before."

Hermione flashed Ron a grin and said, very quietly, "You finally pushed your brain ahead of mine, Ronald."

Instead of reacting with annoyance, as she would have expected (and would have liked), Ron merely winked and pulled away.

"And what are you two doing here?" she asked, trying to push the subject of her pseudonym away.

"Patrol," Harry remarked as he replaced the book he had been examining. "We've had a few con artists set up shop along Knockturn Alley and Mardjinn Alley in recent weeks. Kingsley Shacklebolt (he's Head of Aurors now) wants us to flush them all out."

"So we're on patrol every other day," Ron concluded.

"Well, I guess that I picked a good day to stop by for some ice cream," she said with a smile. She ate another spoonful, then offered her friends a seat.

"No can do, 'Mione," Ron said. "Patrol and all. Otherwise, we'd love to join you."

"But we'll be off at six this evening," Harry supplied. "How about dinner at the Cauldron?"

"Just the three of us?" Hermione asked with some hope. Surely they must have girlfriends now... wives even. But somehow she knew that, even if they did, it would still only be the three of them tonight. Ron confirmed this.

"Like old times."

Hermione, having very little in the way of a social life, agree immediately. After all, once they had gone their separate ways (the boys to the Auror Academy, her to Beauxbatons for her apprenticeship), they'd lost touch, something that had saddened Hermione for a long time. Now seemed to be the perfect chance to pick up where the three of them had left off.

And, she thought later that morning as she Apparated back to Hogsmeade, to see if Ron has finally grown up enough to say something to me.

A/N: The name Mardjinn Alley is property of Sam Vimes. The title, The Destroyer Of Voldemort is property if greengecko.