Harmione One Shots

Wednesdays at the Ministry

Summary: Hermione has a secret. She thinks her husband, Harry, is hot when he's angry, powerful, and in-control. He doesn't show her this side of him often. But when she overhears him arguing with an Auror at the Ministry, the situation ends up taking a steamy turn.

Ship: HarryPotterxHermioneGranger

All credit goes to Chemical_Rasberry on Ao3

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Wednesdays at the Ministry were more than a midpoint of the week for Hermione Granger. They were a break in the hustle and bustle of life's daily routine. A sanctuary of sorts. The day when stars conspired to align otherwise impossible and conflicting schedules, and she could have lunch with her husband.

For approximately sixty blissful minutes, she could forget about the various frustrations plaguing her work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She had started her career there fueled by genuine excitement and dreams of equality, but if the department were really interested in that sort of thing, it would have dropped the words "regulation" and "control" from its name long ago.

For now, she resolved to set aside her work-related woes as she headed for the lifts, smoothing over her shirt. Wednesdays were days on which she wore Muggle clothes to the Ministry, because they suited her better, and she was past the point of pretending she didn't want to put a bit of care into her appearance on those days.

The tailored charcoal gray skirt hugged her curves, falling just above the knee with a subtle slit at the back for ease of movement. She'd paired a crisp white shirt with it, neatly tucked into the waistband, and rolled the sleeves up to the elbows, revealing delicate silver cufflinks.

The click-clack of her heels on the marble floor accompanied her inside the lift. Her sensible heels, she called them, although, in truth, she didn't think wearing heels was sensible at all, and frequently ended up holding them in her hand and walking barefoot. He called it adorable, and she blushed. After so long, one would think his compliments wouldn't have that effect on her anymore, but one would be sorely mistaken.

When she reached Level 2, she headed towards the DMLE, followed by the click-clack, and ran her fingers through her hair, hopeless though it was, as it wouldn't let itself be tamed, much like its owner. In any case, he'd kiss her hair and call her gorgeous. She'd blush again. It never got old.

Most of the cubicles in the Auror Office were empty, as people seemed to have already gone out to lunch. A few flying interdepartmental memos zoomed past her. Here and there she nodded and waved at someone she knew, but didn't stop for any small talk, instead heading directly for the office of the Chief Auror. She was about to knock on the door when something stopped her dead in her tracks. Raised voices. Looking around surreptitiously, she took out her wand and cast a spell that wasn't technically entirely allowed on Ministry premises, but it allowed her to hear what was going on.

"We can't afford mistakes like these. I understand it's been a stressful assignment, but mislabeling evidence like that? It's gross negligence. Do you understand it could endanger the entire case? The defense will eat us alive for this."

"I'm sorry, Chief. I didn't mean to. It was a one-off mistake, and I hadn't slept because I was on patrol."

"Firstly, it wasn't a one-off mistake, this isn't the first time you've carelessly handled evidence. And secondly, no, you weren't on patrol that night, but you did come to work the next morning reeking of Firewhisky. Now I know it's your business what you do in your spare time, but when you come to work in the morning, I expect—"