onlyhjgrangerâ:
Hermione walked into the ministry with a grimace on her face. She could remember how busy it used to be a few years ago but even now, a year after the war, it still felt empty. The fountain in the middle of the atrium ran but there was no statue yet. It was on the agenda to eventually commission a new one to be made but it seemed that a lot of the art of well the arts had been lost. Voldemort certainly hadnât discriminated in who he wanted to kill aside from blood status. Bloody hypocrite that he was.Â
Walking past the statue a missive flew past her head almost getting caught in her hair as she entered an Elevator. Another day in the ministry, another day of trying to make things work with what they had. Nothing was glamorous and she almost preferred it that way, it allowed people to see how truly awful some of the previous practices were. She nodded her head as she squeezed into the elevator as quickly as possible.
With her personal feelings set aside, Sue figured sheâd put off writing an article about life post war for far too long. Of course, it goes without saying that she didnât want to write this article, but rather the editor thought itâd be a good addition or as he tried to sell it âa wonderful opportunityâ for her to get out of her comfort zone. She rolled her eyes at the memory as she continued through the ministry.Â
Despite its emptiness, Sue felt almost suffocated by the memories. Until then she never witnessed anything that did irreparable damage quite like the war. In that moment Sueâs tether back to reality was the familiar sight of Hermoineâs curly hair. âWhatâs the rush?â She asked without turning her head. âThey wonât close if they sense you between them.â















