Love and Necromancy

Chapter 1

            Hermione's lab was a complete disaster. Beakers, cauldrons, and loose bits of parchment littered her workspace. Shreds of boomslang skin and leftover bubotuber pus were dried and stuck to the wood of the table. She would probably need a severing charm to get it all off.

            She was usually more meticulous than this, but when she was on the cusp of a new breakthrough, cleaning was the last thought on her mind. She had sent all of her assistants home earlier in the evening because they had all been working basically nonstop for the whole week. Hermione had planned to leave with them, but an idea popped into her head just as she was taking off her lab coat and she had to see if it would work.

            Now that the potion had been simmering for an hour, it was time to stir. After checking her notes for the fourth time, she was confident that after thirteen counterclockwise stirs the potion would finally turn the cloudy clear she hypothesized.
   
            Hermione held her breath as her ladle finally made the last turn of the cauldron and waited. She barely took a breath in anticipation of what was going to happen.

             The potion turned black and began to sizzle, a leak sprung from the bottom of the cauldron as the mixture ate away at the pewter. With a yell of frustration, she threw her ladle across the room where the leftover potion began to dissolve the wallpaper. Without a thought, she banished everything from her workstation, even the smoking cauldron. She would have to buy another one in Diagon Alley tomorrow morning, her fourth one this month.
             
             Groaning in frustration, Hermione tugged on her frizzing curls and attempted to wrangle them back into a bun, but all she managed was a tangled poof on top of her head. She would have to go over her notes again, something was obviously wrong, whether it was in the formula or the ingredients, she had to figure it out. She hadn't felt this hopeless since her time on the run with Harry and Ron during their seventh year, almost eight years ago now.

            Quickly, the hopelessness turned to burning anger. Hermione had worked on this potion for weeks now, and still, she was not seeing any results. Growling, she pulled her parchment closer to her face so that her nose was basically skimming her cramped handwriting. She would start from the beginning, looking at every word she had written. There was obviously something wrong, something she had missed, and she was going to find it whether it killed her or not. Hermione did not take failure well. In fact, some would say she saw it as a personal attack.

             So far in her adult life, she has passed countless acts and policies protecting those of whom the wizarding world had spent way too long neglecting. Just last year, she was proud to have received her second Order of Merlin for creating the Dobby Fund. A trust that could be accessed by any House-Elf in need. If any House-Elf felt that they were being treated unfairly or abused by their masters, they could take an enchanted article of clothing from a magic vault which would break their servitude magic. That way they were free in the eyes of the law and could seek employment directly at the ministry if they so desired. So far only a few have taken up the offer, but to Hermione, it was a monumental leap in the right direction.

             Now, with some free time on her hands, the ministry kind of let her do what she wanted. Otherwise, she would probably be up the butt of every ministry official in her proximity. For the sake of everyone involved, they gave her a laboratory of her own with a staff of assistants. It was certainly keeping Hermione busy. She has been basically locked in here for the last couple of weeks, trying to perfect a new potion that would change the wizarding world for ages to come.
   
              Hermione was just getting to the list of formulas in her pile of notes and pulled a spare bit of parchment from her stack to start rewriting every number and rune to check for mistakes when she heard her office door open. The click of the lock made her back straighten. Only a few people had the key to enter her office, and she doubted they would be back so soon.