Chapter Two

An Honor, A Privilege, A Bonus

Another day's work complete. She'd written four letters to underage witches and wizards who had practiced magic that day. Summer holidays were always chock full of kids trying to get away with it. She'd also sent six letters to people who had performed magic at a proximity to muggles that was too close for comfort. Usually, it was unintentional, but they needed to be warned anyway. She'd also helped make a few alterations to a new law they were trying to pass about the use of glamour charms in certain regions where muggles were accustomed to artificial appearances. There were certain areas where muggles had a knack for noticing that a face wasn't natural, and they had a habit of asking, "Who's your plastic surgeon?" Unfortunately, most witches and wizards had never heard of plastic surgery, which resulted in some minor disruption. The law required witches and wizards employing glamour charms in public muggle places to be educated in the basics of muggle cosmetics and etc. Hermione had consulted her parents on one or two points involving teeth whitening practices. The law wasn't all that interesting, but it was necessary. Kind of.

Before she left that day, she decided to pay a visit to Arthur Weasley in the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. She didn't run into him all that often even though they both worked on Level Two at the Ministry of Magic Headquarters, but she made it a point to drop in every so often. Maybe he could give her some advice about her job predicament and maybe some insight on his son's unfortunate reaction as well.

"Hermione, dear girl!" he greeted her after admitting her entrance to his office, "Do sit down!"

"Hello, Mr. Weasley. How are you?"

"Fine, fine," he said happily. "How are you? You look a tad distressed."

"Well I seem to have a lot on my plate right now," she admitted, sitting in the proffered chair.

"That glamour charm law getting the best of you?" he asked, shaking his head, "Not that I'd ever really use a glamour charm, but I'm still not understanding the details of this 'plastic surgery' thing. Muggles cut each other's faces off and replace them with new ones?"

"Something like that," Hermione smiled. Mr. Weasley's innocent fascination with muggles would always link them together. "But it's not that. I got an owl from Minerva McGonagall yesterday. She is offering me a teaching job at Hogwarts."

"What an honor!" he exclaimed, excitement written all over his face. Hermione should have known better; she thought he might have seen it from a more practical perspective. Maybe she was the one being impractical. "What subject?"

"I don't know yet," Hermione said. "From what I've heard, she's planning on making a few faculty changes. So I don't even know which positions are available."

"Well, you've always been the best and brightest. Whatever the subject, you'll be a fantastic fit. Congratulations!" His genuine pride in her made her blush and she smiled down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. She suddenly felt rather ashamed about her previous skepticism. She still wasn't sure what the right choice was, but she hadn't considered what a privilege it was to be offered such a highly respectable job.

"So you think I should take it?" Hermione asked.

He seemed dumbfounded. "Well, I hadn't realized you had any other intentions! Tell me what you're thinking."

She knew she'd come to the right person. Arthur clearly thought she should take the job, but he wanted to know her feelings on the subject. She knew he'd help her see this decision through, the right way.

"It's just that I've trained so long and hard for my position here at the Ministry and I'm afraid that I'll regret giving it up," she started. He nodded.

"Well, once you've finished you're training, if you decide to leave, you know they'll always welcome you back if they have positions open. That's not really something you need to worry about Hermione," he winked. "You're overqualified for your job."

Hermione blushed again. She wasn't sure if he was right, but she figured he certainly knew more about the inner workings of the Ministry than she did. "But there's also my parents," she began to explain, and a concerned look came into Arthur's eye. "We're so close, and I knew it wouldn't be a problem to see them every so often on weekends. But they were so helpful with my finances during my training when I wasn't able to pay my rent after I'd moved out from Harry's place. I feel like it would have been a waste of their money for me to back out now."

"Hermione, as a parent, I can assure you that your parents will support you no matter what you choose to pursue as your ultimate career," he said compassionately, leaning forward towards her over his desk. "They supported you then, and they will now, too. They will understand that interests change and opportunities arise, and if you decide that teaching is the best option for you, they will be so proud of you for realizing that and going for it. I will be!" he smiled, and then added. "That is, if you do decide to go to Hogwarts. Not that I don't love having you here on the same floor. Your visits always brighten my day."

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley," Hermione stood. "I'm still not positive about my decision, and I probably won't decide until my meeting with Professor McGonagall, but this has been a very helpful conversation."

"Anytime," he smiled kindly at her. "Was there anything else that was bothering you?"

She shrugged. "Ron and I got into a fight yesterday." He was about to ask details, but she explained to him that it was too complicated to be worth describing. "But," she assured him, "I found Ron a place to live! Neville has offered to let him stay in the spare bedroom in his cottage in Hogsmeade."

"Wonderful!" Arthur grinned. "What a great place! I remember the old days… The Three Broomsticks! That's where Molly and I had our first date, y'know."

Hermione smiled. "I better get going; I need to floo into Hogsmeade and head over to the castle by 7:00. Have a good night!"

"You, too," he said, seeing her out. "And y'know, Hermione, I'm sure you and Ron will sort out whatever it is you're disagreeing about. You always do."

"I hope so." She figured he was right. It's not like this sort of thing had never happened before.

"Maybe we can set up a day where you can explain this 'nose job' concept to me again. And tooth whitening… it seems so bizarre!"

"Sure, Mr. Weasley," she smiled. "Just owl me!"

Hermione headed back to her office to gather her things and then made her way to the Atrium where she flooed back to her flat. She changed out of her work clothes and into something a bit more appropriate for a meeting with her old Transfiguration professor. Tossing a handful of floo dust form her mantle into the fireplace, she stepped in and stated firmly, "Neville Longbottom's cottage in Hogsmeade!"

She found herself on the floor, but picked herself up and brushed herself off before Neville had the chance to come to her aid. Instead, he just gave her a bear hug and picked her bag up off the floor and handed it to her.

"Thanks Neville," she smiled. "And thanks for letting me floo here."

"Anytime, Hermione!" Neville said. "I'm glad you're meeting with McGonagall. I hope you're considering this job. I still think it'll be perfect for you."

Hermione nodded before peering over Neville's shoulder to find the rest of the living room and kitchen empty. "Has Ron settled in yet? Is he around?"

Before Neville could reply, a door banged open and Ron emerged with a discontent expression on his face. "Actually," he said, "I was just leaving." He exited through the backyard.

"Leaving for the backyard?" She questioned. But then she heard the familiar pop of apparition and felt foolish about her skepticism of Ron's actions.

"I don't think it was a trip he'd been planning," Neville reassured her. "I had a feeling the two of you had gotten into a fight. Anything I can help with?"

Hermione knew it would hurt Neville if he knew what the subject of the fight had initially been so she shook her head. "No, it's nothing important. I'm sure we'll get over it soon enough."

"Okay."

"I'd better get going. Don't want to be late!" Hermione thanked him once again as he opened the door for her.

"Good luck!" he called as she walked toward the gates that would lead her onto Hogwarts grounds.

Hermione felt little butterflies playing tag in her abdomen and realized that she was relatively anxious about this meeting. It wasn't Professor McGonagall who made her nervous – she was always very kind to Hermione, a star pupil. It was just this choice she was so afraid to make. Wondering if she would have to make her decision by the end of the night, she crossed the grounds, taking everything in. She wouldn't blame the Headmistress for being impatient about Hermione's answer. If she declined, McGonagall would have to find someone else to take the job.

Square patches of light were dancing a short distance away, awakening an intrinsic itch in Hermione to visit Hagrid. Tonight was not the night, however. She couldn't be late for her meeting, but she decided that she'd visit Hagrid the next chance she had. It had been too long. Of course, she'd seen Hagrid a few times, but never in the old way. They'd be at a meeting for the Order together, though those were few and far between these days. More like celebratory or commemoration dinners hosted by Harry. In fact, she hadn't been to Hogwarts since the end of what would have been her seventh year, if not for the horcrux hunt. She had returned a couple of weeks after the final battle when she, Harry, Ron, Luna, Dean, and others were awarded metals of honor and recognition certificates that confirmed that, though they did not officially finish their schooling, they were qualified enough to go out into the world with the rest of their former classmates.

It was too dark to see the lake, but peering back over her shoulder, she could just barely make out the distant line of trees marking the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They blocked the faint light of stars and the moon, creating an even darker impression on the sky. A similar effect was caused by the Quidditch Pitch, half blocked by a portion of the castle. She smiled. It felt good to be back. It was her home away from home, and even the smell of the castle grounds sent her pulse racing. She reached the great oak doors and pushed through.

The Entrance Hall was deserted, though it was lit up as if school were in full swing. She noticed on her walk through the grounds that the castle had only been partially lit. She supposed there were certain areas of the school that went unused through the summer and therefore had no need of being lit. For instance, the windows to the Great Hall were dark. Hermione vaguely wondered what the ceiling would look like and if the enchantment was in effect all year round. She continued up the stairs and made her way to the Headmistress' Office. This particular path through the castle was brightly lit all the way to the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance.

Hermione uttered the password Professor McGonagall had revealed in her letter ("Montrose Magpies;" McGonagall always had been a fan of Quidditch) and rounded the spiral staircase until she reached the doors to the office. They opened for her and she stepped inside, finding the Headmistress seated behind the large desk.

Hermione noticed the changes to the room immediatelyn. There were no phoenix, no tinkering objects and devices, and there were three new portraits on the wall. Dumbledore, Snape, and Dewurdy, last year's failed Headmaster. That was when Hermione realized that she had not been in this office in years. It was an odd sensation. There were books lining the walls, more than there had been when Dumbledore occupied the office, she thought. There were also a number of files organized neatly on a set of shelves directly beside the Headmistress' desk. She could tell that McGonagall had been reading a few of those just before Hermione came in, as there were a number of them opened on her desk.

Hermione had thought seeing McGonagall inhabiting this room would be strange, but the professor seemed to fit right in. Without Dumbledore's many collectibles, the office was less his and more of… well, simply more of an office.

"Hermione, you look well," McGonagall greeted her, motioning towards the chair, "Take a seat and make yourself comfortable. How have you been?"

"Very well, Professor, thank you," Hermione replied, sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the desk from her old teacher, feeling slightly nervous but less so than she had anticipated.

"Good, good," McGonagall said, a bit distractedly, as she gathered the papers she had been reading and piled them up to one side. "Oh, and please call me Minerva. I am no longer your teacher and I have no qualms about considering you a deserving equal."

Hermione was surprised by this token of familiarity but smiled warmly. "I noticed that only certain lights are on in the castle at the moment," she commented.

"Yes, well," Professor McGonagall explained, "I'm really the only person who has been here much this summer. Though being Deputy Headmistress gave me access to many things, I still have a lot to read and take care of now that the Board of Governors has promoted me. Logistics, rules that need to be adhered to," she paused. "I've discovered that our beloved Headmaster Dewurdy didn't really understand the necessities his position posed and he did some things that aren't exactly… permitted." This drew an affronted snort from the newest portrait. "Not that you were a bad person," McGonagall addressed the portrait, "Just rather incompetent. But then again, Albus ignored quite a few rules himself, so I suppose it's all relative."

Hermione glanced up at the three newest portraits. Dewurdy glared down at McGonagall in annoyance. He was a stubby old man with very little hair and some pathetic scruffles on his chin. Next to him was Snape, who seemed to have paid little attention to McGonagall's accusations. He was sitting towards the back of the portrait, facing outward at an angle that directed his attention away from the Headmistress' desk. Finally, to his left, was Dumbledore, eyes twinkling and smiling even within the confines of a frame. Hermione smiled up at him and earned a wink. Then McGonagall began talking again, so she gave her her undivided attention.

"Now, I'd love to catch up with you but now simply isn't the time, and I apologize for that," McGonagall said, pushing the conversation in the direction of more important matters. "I have a lot more of these papers to look over by next week. Also, I'm sorry for the rush, but I'll really need a definite answer from you by tomorrow night. We need to make these arrangements as soon as possible, and I'm making a lot of changes."

Hermione was relieved that she wouldn't have to make a decision by the end of the evening, but understood the importance of stating her choice as soon as she knew for sure (or by tomorrow night, whichever came first).

"Next week, Professor? But school doesn't start for another two and a half weeks."

"Well, if you do choose to take this job, which I am certainly hoping you will, you'll be back here next week with the rest of the professors for a week-long orientation that I'm organizing. I want to sort some things out and there are many things that need to be brought up and discussed with the faculty as a whole. It should be a good experience for everyone, I think," she cleared her throat and clasped her hands together on the desk. "Now, onto business! Hermione, please understand that this is an offer I hold very close to my heart, because it's not only a matter of finding the right person for the job, it's also a matter of finding someone who can live up to the precedents set by me," she smiled. Hermione felt her stomach flip. She knew what the Headmistress was alluding to, and the pride that suddenly enveloped her made her breath catch for a moment. "Which is why I'm asking you to accept the position of Transfigurations Professor here at Hogwarts."

"Wow, Professor… I don't know what to say," Hermione murmured, honestly floored by the honor she felt was being bestowed on her. Clearly, McGonagall would want the best for her old position, and she had chosen Hermione.

"Please, please, Minerva," she corrected, still smiling. "I understand that you may have a few reservations about this and I'd like to clear up a few things before you start considering anything," she paused. "I remember when you were a student here, one of your many talents was your ability to communicate with your classmates and help them with their academic work as well as a number of other things. This was one of the reasons that I always felt you would make a wonderful teacher. In addition, despite your age, I feel that your level of maturity is at a point where your proximity in age to the students shouldn't pose any problems. The Board of Governers originally wanted me to wait a few years before hiring you, but I made a strong case for you. And of course, they had no problems in accepting Mr. Malfoy, and to see the effect he has on these students is certainly more worrisome than whatever it is they're worried you will do. So I managed to convince them."

Hermione frowned slightly. She had forgotten all about Malfoy. He had been hired as Potions Master last year at only 19 years old. It had gotten him quite a bit of publicity, and she had heard some unsavory rumors, but she was hoping that even Malfoy wouldn't sink so low…

"Anyway, another key ingredient to this mix, of course, is salary," McGonagall proceeded. "I know you're not so shallow as to count it as your deciding factor," Hermione winced inwardly, remembering that part of her argument with Ron, "But I want you to be assured that the difference will be minute. Your Ministry position certainly pays more than a teaching job, but you must remember that along with your salary, you get to stay here through the school year free of charge. In addition, you get three full-course meals every day."

She certainly hadn't considered that. It was quite a bonus. Professor McGonagall was making this seem better and better by the minute. Hermione nodded, indicating that she had understood this and allowed the Headmistress to continue.

"There will also be other opportunities for you to increase your pay by taking on extra responsibilities. A few extra night watches here and there, helping to organize certain events, chaperoning Hogsmeade weekends," McGonagall quickly added, "None of this is required, of course, but you catch my drift."

"You make quite a case," Hermione admitted, sitting back in the chair to ponder all that she had learned. "My main concern is that I've spent all this time training for the Ministry and I don't know if I want to just give that all up quite yet."

"Understand that I can tell you as a teacher myself, this job is every bit as satisfying as you could imagine," Professor McGonagall said. Hermione instinctively trusted her judgment and nodded.

"You've given me a lot to think about," Hermione said. "I will have your answer for you by tomorrow night. Thank you so much for this opportunity."

"You're very welcome," McGonagall said, leading her towards the door. "I hope to see you next week! Send Potter and Weasley my regards."

"I certainly will," Hermione assured her before descending the spiral staircase. Out of curiosity, she chose to take a different, less orthodox path than the one she had taken on her way to the office. She discovered that the lights followed her when she chose to turn down a corridor that had previously been dark. She noticed the portraits watching her pass, and heard a few of them comment on how they "haven't seen this one in a while! Wonder what she's doing here!" One portrait, a young lord dressed in partial armor and standing before the crest of Slytherin House announced that he would find Phineas Nigellus to get the scoop from the Headmistress' Office. Hermione waved to a few that she remembered from her school days and they greeted her warmly. She was surprised not to encounter any ghosts, but did not dwell on it. As long as Peeves stayed away, she wasn't complaining.

She made her way out of the castle and back across the grounds. She noticed that the lights in Hagrid's hut were still lit, but decided she'd save that reunion for another day. She had a lot to think about.

Finally arriving at Neville's cottage, she knocked and was greeted with many questions of how it had gone and what she was thinking. Ron was still nowhere in sight, but his bedroom door was now closed and she suspected that he was holed up inside it.

"I'm not saying that my decision is final, but McGonagall really sold me," Hermione admitted with a small smile. Neville looked thrilled. "I think I'll probably take the job."

"That's great, Hermione," Neville said happily, hugging her. "As long as you're making the best decision for you."

"I think I am, Neville. Thank you for your support. It means a lot," Hermione said this perhaps a bit louder than was necessary, hoping that if Ron really were in his room, he might overhear.

"Sleep on it," Neville suggested with a wink and one last pat on the back.

Hermione kissed him on the cheek, and as she flooed back to her flat, she saw the on-schedule blush creep across his face as he waved goodbye.