This is just something that I am testing out to see if people like it or not. I am going to attempt to write 3 stories at a time, and I do not necessarily have high hopes to start with. But I will do my best, although I make no promises. I don't really have a direction for this story to go; I am just making it up as I go along.

Let us begin with my (epic fail) attempt at a Dramione story. Please let me know if there is something that I can do better, or if my characters are way to OOC. Oh and I am not exactly familiar with British terminology, considering that I live in New York. Although I do hope to study in England one day. So please tell me the British word for American things I say, and I will change them.

This is my second story ever, and I hope I do okay with it.


Okay, Granger, this is the last one. And then you get to go home.

Hermione ended the signature on the parchment with a flourish, put the quill down on her desk, and capped the ink jar. She eyed the stack of just completed papers with a grimace. The amount of signed documents reached nearly past her head when she was sitting down. But at last, she was done, and now she could relax. She stretched out her hand that cramped from holding the quill for so long. Sighing, her head fell into her hands as she looked at the clock hanging on the wall above one of the many bookcases throughout her room. 4:59, the damned thing read and Hermione couldn't wait until it was time for her to go home. She watched the minute hand fastidiously, as it went around with a tick, counting the seconds until she was able to leave. 52…53…54…5—

"Hermione!" A voice accompanying a knock called from the doorway to her office. "Are you busy?"

"She's not here…" Hermione said weakly, not even fooling herself for one minute. "Go bother someone else."

The door opened with a soft click. The clicking of heeled shoes on the tiled floor let her know exactly who this intruder was. I really have to get a lock for that door. She thought.

Looking up, she saw her assistant, Padma Patil enter the room. While they were never close in school, when Hermione applied for a job working at the Ministry of Magic following the War, Padma had been assigned to work as her assistant. It had been awkward the for the two of them at first, having not spoken in school all that much, and then being forced to work together by Hermione's supervisor. But after spending an all-nighter on a particularly difficult project, relying mostly on Pepper-Up potions and coffee, they had begun to get along. Since then, they worked together quite a bit. Hermione actually started to think of Padma as a friend.

But all thoughts of friendship went right out the window as she saw exactly what Padma carried in her hands. More papers? She groaned. You have got to be kidding me.

"You know, Hermione," Padma was saying. "Joseph should just sign these himself. I don't know why he needs your signature."

Joseph Ferntree was both her and Padma's supervisor. He was old (he had to be at least a hundred or so years old), cross, crass, and always tried to feel up his female subordinates. Especially the muggleborn workers. Most complaints made about him were just brushed off as it being part of his charm. Even so long after the War, people still thought that listening to a muggleborn was just as useful as trying to hold water in the palm of your hand. It did not amount to much. Well…at least they were until Hermione came along. Having one-third of the Golden Trio support you in your claim against your boss was exactly the kind of thing the female workers needed in their complaints. Since then the harassments stopped, mostly anyway, and Joseph kept to himself, in his office on the 17th floor.

"Because of my name." She replied, as she always did. "It looks good to have Harry Potter's best friend sign a document that will probably never go into effect."

Padma shook her head, sighing. "Don't talk like that, Hermione." She dumped the stack of parchment on Hermione's desk, next to the ones that Hermione had just completed. Goodness, this bunch was taller than the previous. She sat in one of the leather chairs opposite Hermione's desk. Padma eyed her with a serious look. "You know the laws we pass are important."

"Important, yes." Hermione nodded her head, agreeing with her friend. "But useless."

"Not all of them—," Padma put her hands on her hips.

"Tell me," she said in all seriousness. "How many of the documents that you've seen me sign actually go into effect in the 10 years that I've been here? The Organization for Centaurs and House Elves has been breathing down my neck for ages because none of their petitions are being heard. The Committee for Goblin Rights barely wanted anything to do with humans in the first place, and after three years of hitting roadblocks and dead-ends they're ready to give up. And frankly, so am I."

Her temper flared as she ranted about the things that could never be done or fixed. The Wizarding Community just was not ready to change the ways they had always known. Wizards were at the top, of course. And everyone else…was at the bottom. For some….that included Muggleborns. While many common perceptions of people like her had changed over the 10 years since the end of the war, some people's opinions would never change.

"Hermione, you're making a difference here. A lot of things have changed because of you." Padma said quietly.

She was right. Some things had. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. "I'm tired of having a job where all I'm used for is my name, Padma. All I want is to make a difference. A real difference." She said, emphasizing her point when Padma gave her one of those looks.

"So what then?" Her friend asked, crossing her legs. "You quit your job at the Ministry, and then what are you going to do? Remember, you have your daughter to think about, Hermione. And what about Ron? What's he going to say when you tell him?"

"I don't know yet. But I'll come up with a plan, I always do." She said, eyeing the clock. It was 5:07, and time for her to go home. Perhaps maybe permanently, this time. She stood, and then, looking down to grab her purse, she was reminded of the new stack of documents for her to sign. Even the thought of signing her name anymore made her cringe. She looked at the papers, and then at Padma. "I'll finish those tomorrow. I promise."

"Alright then," Padma said, standing as well. "But I knew this was coming, for a long time actually. Then you got this today. I didn't give it to you because you were busy, but I think you might actually like where this is coming from."

"What is it?" Hermione asked as Padma pulled out a letter from the pocket of her suit.

Even from as far away as Padma's hand, Hermione could see the emblem that she had seen every year since she was eleven years old. A Hogwarts letter? But why?

Padma handed it to her with a small smile on her face. "It must be from Professor McGonagall. Are you going to open it?"

She felt it in her hand. It was a normal school letter, like the one commonly given to students. Breaking open the wax seal, she pulled out a small card. As she read the contents of the letter, she began to get more excited.

Mrs. Weasley,

You have been married for so long and yet it feels so odd for me to write your married name, Ms. Granger. See, there I go again, slipping back into an old habit. In any event, Ms. Granger, I must apologize for writing to you on such short notice, but I could not see any other alternative to my situation.

You see, Ms. Granger, I am not as young as I used to be, and I daresay that I was never young to begin with. I often find it difficult to manage my classes, the younger years as well as the classes preparing students for their various OWLS and NEWTS. I require help, Ms. Granger, and only someone of your caliber came to mind. If it is not too much to ask, I need a new Transfiguration Professor, as well as a head of Gryffindor House. I need you, Ms. Granger.

If not for the sake of an old Professor that I hope, you think fondly of, then perhaps for the young minds that you can mold, and perhaps shape for a changing world.

All my best,

Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts Headmistress.

When she finished reading the letter, Hermione looked up. "Padma, I think I've just found a way to make a difference."

Hogwarts, here I come.


I know this is very short. And believe me; I am not too satisfied with it. On my other stories, my chapters reach a minimum of 5000-8000 words. At max I have done close to 15,000, but this is just to test the waters and see if people would be interested in the idea. The pairing will be Draco and Hermione, and I hope you guys like the idea.

Please leave a review so I know whether to keep or trash this idea!

Thank you,

LM