Blood Prejudice - Dramione

Chapter Two: Hermione ~ After The War

In the year since the Battle of Hogwarts Hermione Granger had made quite a name for herself at The Ministry of Magic. She started out as an intern and worked her way up to a cushy job in The Departmentof Magical/Non-Human creatures, even getting a small office for herself.
Office was a strong word, something more appropriate would be walk in closet but as small as it was it was HER own office, HER own space.
She smiled to herself as she arranged the books on her bookshelf. Alphabetically of course, not by subject matter. Magical Creatures A-Z deffinitely shouldn't be next to A History of Magic.
A fluttering behind Hermione caught her attention, She turned her head jsut in time for her to narrowly dodge a fluffy white owl wing swinging in the direction of her face.
Hermione ducked, laughing.
"Hey Pigwidgeon! Have you got something for me?"
The tiny owl coo'ed affectionately. Hermione took a small white envelope clutched in his claws and looked at the handwriting on the parchment. She recognized Harry spidery scrawl instantly after years of grading his homework.

"Hermione ~
Ron and I got letters from Hogwarts today. Theres one addressed to you too. Ginny is thrilled to go back and I've decided to as well. Rons on the fence but I'm sure he will if you do. See you at Dinner
~ Harry "

Hermione set her hands on the dge of her desk, gripping so tightly her knuckles turned white. She shook her head and closed her eyes. The first few months after the war was almost a complete blur to Hermione. She remembered practically endless funerals, hours of tears, never ending repairs. One morning in particular stood out to Hermione vividly.
~~~~
The morning had started with back to back meetings of what was left of The Order at The Burrow, and Number 12 Grimmauld Place, she had an interview with the Daily Prophet as well, so she had decided to spend the afternoon afterwards in Muggle London, she got coffee at her favourite little cafe and walk along taking in all the little shops, the steaming mug keeping her warm through her gloves and enjoyed watching Muggles live. It helped her feel... almost normal. Out in the streets of Muggle London, she could be as anonymous as she wished. She didn't have to be "The Brightest Witch Of Her Age," or 1 of the Golden Trio, or Ron Weasleys girlfriend, or any of the other endless things the people in her world wanted her to be, expected her to be. She had somehow, almost without realizing it, wandered to The Leaky Cauldron by the midafternoon. The rainy weather around her reflected her melancholy mood. The bricks leading to The Leaky Cauldron flowed with water, the light from the tip of her wand illuminating the rivers making it look all the more magical.

Inside the warm pub, a lively atmosphere bounced amongst the patrons. She shed her coat and shook the remaining water out of her messy curls. She crossed the pub, taking a seat at the bar. The bartender, a spritely witch with blue eyes and pixie like ears leaned over the bar.
"Hey there sugar, what can I get for you?
"A Spicy Butterbeer please." (Similar to an irish carbomb this wizarding cocktail is butterbeer spiked with a shot of Firewhiskey.)
"Cold weather got you feeling a bit chill eh? Looking for something to keep you warm?" The bartender winked at her and turned fixing her drink. 
She placed it in front of her, "Can i get you anything else?"
Hermione took a sip and felt the drink warm her from her chest out.
"Mmmm," she paused wiping the white foam from her lips, "May I please have a pumpkin pastry as well?"
She had a weak spot for them, something about the treat she just absolutely couldn't resist, and since she hadn't eaten yet today between all the meetings and errands she decided a pumpkin pastry would go excellently with her spicy butterbeer.
She pulled out her notebook and buried her face in it, working on her newest idea. At present she was working on a bill to help make it easier for magical creatures immigrate between magical countries, she had to get it into the Ministry somehow. She set her pencil down, taking in the words she'd written for the dozenth time.

"Fine work you've got there, a bill like that takes some serious ambition, makes a wizard wonder whats going on inside that head."
A voice over her right shoulder startled her.
She shifted her notes to cover them. The speaker was a tall man sitting in the bar seat next to her. He had broad shoulders, dark hair and a long carefully groomed beard halfway hidden underneath a Ravenclaw Scarf. Hermione looked up and met his eyes, bright blue.
"My sincerest apologies for startling you love, my name is Alec Cundehren, I'm an Auror at the Ministry of Magic. You're Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of her age."
"Cundehren, I've heard of you. You were in the daily prophet for that fire in Scottland."
About a month earlier, The Daily Prophet had reported on a brush fire in the Highland Moors, it took 20 Aurors with wands to put it out and rescure the people trapped by it. This mans face, alebiet dirty and ashy, was on the front page for pulling a pregnant centaur with a broken leg out of a burning shed just seconds before it collapsed. He was deemed a "Hero".
She extended her hand, he took it and kissed the top lightly.
"Echanté Mrs. Granger,-"
Hermione interrupted him. "Actually its Miss, my boyfriend and I aren't engaged or married." 
"Sincerest apologies MISS Granger, The Ministry is positively abuzz with chatter about you, Potter too, and the ginger that always hangs around him"
Hermione rolled her eyes, once again it always came back. She wanted to be known for something other than Harry Potters friend.
"But," He leaned in closer to her, she could smell the scent of warm cinnamon on him, "I'm only interested in you. What do you say about coming around to the Ministry one night this week and I'll show you around?" He flashed her a charming grin, she felt her cheeks grown warm as she smiled and nodded.
Without waiting for a response he dropped a stack of galleons on top of her check, stood and winked at Hermione.
"I'll send you an owl then."
Hermione shook her head in absolute disbelief as he left the bar, hands in pockets, whistling a tune to himself.
But then... she looked down at her carefully conscribed notes. An internship at the Ministry might be exactly what she needed.