hazy memories or something more serious….?
There’s a subtle, nagging feeling that he’s forgetting something.
Harry can’t help but frown, rolling his wand around his hands as he tries to place his finger on it. He’s so distracted he doesn’t notice the way Hermione’s face slowly morphs into concern, faltering mid sentence in her tirade about a new law as she studies him.
”Harry,” she says softly, but he doesn’t respond, still lost in thought. He shifts, wand twisting restlessly and the brunette narrows her eyes, dropping her book down on the table with a loud thump.
The silence stretches between them as he looks up with a flinch, startled. “Harry,” she asks more insistently and he blinks, struggling to recall what they were talking about. “Are you sure everything is alright?”
The answer is on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah,” he says instead, forcing out a laugh. Hermione doesn’t look convinced and he pauses, trying to think of a good explanation.
”It’s just…I guess I’m just tired after Auror training,” he mutters, saying the first thing that comes to mind.
Hermione is still staring at him, trying to work him out and he lets out a deep sigh, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders. Maybe he just isn’t cut out to be an Auror, and he vocalizes this thought to the brunette, who just stares at him in shock.
“Well,” she says, teasing her lips between her teeth. “I thought it was a little odd you’d try to be an Auror when you hated being the center of attention. And, don’t take this the wrong way, Harry, but you were never this passionate about this job.”
That doesn’t really explain a lot but he doesn’t push, mindful of the stress she’s under. “Well,” Harry tells her, hoping his hesitance isn’t obvious. “I’ve got no choice now, have I? It’s too late to change professions-”
Hermione rolls her eyes, shuffling through the papers in front of her, searching for something. “Here,” she finally says, pushing the Daily Prophet towards him. “Read it.”
Harry clears his throat, complying to her demands. “Auror expedition gone wrong. Boy Who Lived bedridden after-”
“Not that!” She shrieks, snatching the paper back from him. She flips through, eyes scanning the pages quickly before landing on what she’s looking for. “Here, this one, underneath the dragon sighting article.”
“Hiring for a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts. Interviews will be done…” He trails off, looking back up at Hermione with wide eyes. “Is this…Hermione, I don’t…”
“What?” She says teasingly, smiling brightly. Harry hasn’t seen her smile in a while and he savors it, grinning back. Maybe if he was here, she wouldn’t be so stressed , he thinks privately, before tucking away that thought for further observation later.
“Besides, I’ve always thought you made a great teacher,” She continues, eyes gleaming in excitement. “Especially after the D.A club in fifth year.”
Harry shakes his head. “It was all of us, Hermione, that made it possible. It was your idea to make it in the first place,” he points out, thrumming his fingers on the desk.
”But you were the reason why they had the courage to join,” she says quietly, looking him straight in the eyes. “I would have never been able to get them to actually listen and he wasn’t nearly as good at DADA like you were. They basically idolized you.”
He feels his cheeks heat up at the praise and coughs, dispelling the serious atmosphere. “Well, there’s no guarantee they’ll hire me In the first place.”
”There’s no one more qualified than you,” she remarks, huffing. She’s betrayed by the smile tugging at her lips and Harry suddenly has a vague inkling of something missing. “And you’d be mad to miss this opportunity. Who knows how long a position like this will stay open?”
Harry looks back at the article, catching a glimpse of red hair in the column next to it. International Auror Training program, he muses, before tearing his eyes away from the paper. “I’ll have to tell Kingsley,” he says, the argument sounding weak even to his own ears. “I still haven’t finished my report for the last expedition.”
“That’s not your problem,” Hermione mutters sharply, picking up her mug of tea. Her face scrunches up in disgust when she realizes it’s gone cold. “You can just fabricate it anyways.”
He lets out a laugh, shoulders feeling lighter than they did hours ago. “Am I going crazy? Hermione Granger is telling me to lie on official government documents?”
She flushes, rolling her eyes. “You know what I meant, Harry. Stop laughing!”
“Thank you,” he says gratefully after he’s done laughing, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. “I mean it.”
He just has to tell Kingsley he’s quitting now.