Castiel's Choice (one-shot)

She could see the surprise on Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt's face when he entered his office and saw her sitting quietly on one of his vacant chairs.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, the widening of his eyes already speaking volumes of his astonishment. "I… well, it has almost been a year, you know."

Hermione blinked and forced a small smile on her face. "What can I say?" she murmured, nervously tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "I came to love America and I decided to stay for a while." She paused, licked her chapped lips, and cleared her throat. "I apologize for not sending an owl or something. Things had been quite… eventful for me."

Unknowingly, her hands tightly clenched into fists. The brunette took a sharp intake of breath and tried to keep her emotions at bay.

She could not breakdown right now. Not in front of her esteemed superior.

"Is everything all right?" Kingsley asked, striding towards his desk and sitting on his chair. When she unfocusedly stared at a spot on the floor, the wizard furrowed his brows and frowned. "Auror Granger?"

Upon hearing his address to her, she shakily smiled. "Auror Granger…" she murmured. "It seemed so long ago ever since someone called me that." She lifted up her head and directed her peculiarly shining eyes at Kingsley. "I honestly thought I'd be fired long ago because I'd taken a leave longer than what the rules stated."

"Well, you are still one of our best Aurors, Hermione," Kingsley said, bringing his hands together and leaning closer to his desk. "Forgive me, but I still hoped that one day you will come back."

She smiled at his honesty. Quietly then, she rummaged inside her robe pocket and retrieved a white envelope. "I knew you would say that," she said, gently placing the letter on top of his desk. Written in front of it were the clear words 'Letter of Resignation'. "That was why I came here prepared."

Confused, Kingsley grasped the parchment and looked at Hermione. "What made you decide, Hermione?" he asked, his tone of voice distinctively laced with disappointment. "I thought it was the job that you've always wanted?"

A hollow laugh escaped from her lips; Kingsley swore his blood ran cold just by listening at it. "I thought so, too," she whispered back. "I thought it will help me become better after the Second War, Kingsley." Her bottom lip trembled as she sucked in a deep breath. "It's just… more important things happened back in America and I" – a soft, broken whimper escaped from her lips – "I have to do something."

The wizard grew more confused and alarmed as the tired witch started to softly cry in front of him. Kingsley was at loss of what to do, she could see that through her tears, and she tried to assure him with a watery, poor excuse of a smile.

"Did something happen back in America, Hermione?" Kingsley asked.

The brunette closed her eyes tightly, allowing more tears to fall. "Y-you have no idea," she sobbed in exhaustion, in pain, in mourning… in every negative feeling that her heart was currently feeling right now.

Hermione suddenly felt she could not stay in this cramped, godforsaken office anymore.

"I-I'm sorry, Kingsley, but I have to go." She shot up from her seat and dashed out of his office, Kingsley's call for her to stop falling into deaf ears.

Hermione blindly wove threw the throng of ministry works. Sometimes, she would bump against an irate colleague, but she would not stop, turn around, and apologize profusely like she normally did. Things had changed now; she was not the same person anymore.

Finally, she burst out of the hidden government of the Wizarding World. Sunlight blared her eyesight and she glared angrily at no one. It was a fairly normal, or better yet, a wonderful day and to see a broken… hurting woman of twenty-eight years standing right at the middle of the busy street was peculiar to anyone who saw her.