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The Atrium of the Ministry was bursting at the seams with people in dress robes. Wizards in sharp, tailored suits laughed loudly with one another, telling jokes and poking fun at other department heads. They smiled brightly, while sipping Ogden's Finest and giving too-strong handshakes to anyone with a broader set of shoulders than they had. Witches wandered about, wearing lavish gowns that sparkled against the twinkling lights, their painted lips gossiping between one another as they downed flutes of expensive champagne. Jewels of every shape and colour gleamed and glinted off their wrists and necks, creating a dizzying kaleidoscope that bounced off the walls as bright flashes of light erupted from the tops of cameras.
Pansy Parkinson stood at the front of the room in a fabulously expensive black satin gown, looking an absolute vision with blood red lips and pearly white teeth, as she accepted a plaque from the Minister for Magic. A large, golden banner that read "Acclimation of Muggle Born Witches and Wizards into Wizarding Society Society" hung proudly on display behind the stage.
In the far corner of the room, eyeing the stage with a scowl, Hermione leaned back against her chair, bringing her hands together in a poor excuse of applause.
It had been Hermione's idea to form the AMBWWWSS. She had spent countless hours pouring herself into the society. Nights, holidays, and weekends spent getting funding and gathering promotion. She'd spent months trying to work out the kinks between Muggleborns and the Wizarding World; taking from her own experiences to try and make the transition smoother for new Muggleborn witches and wizards. Making it easier for their families to understand and be educated on the Wizarding World and the potential their child had.
And yet it was Pansy Parkinson who stood at the front of the room receiving recognition for her
"contributions to creating an easier transition for Muggleborns and their families into the wizarding world." All because she used some clever charm work to get muggle mailboxes to re-route letters to wizarding post.
Hermione huffed, annoyed at her own frustrations.
She couldn't deny the idea was brilliant—if a bit simple. But, Hermione was the one who had dedicated years of her life for the betterment and inclusion of Muggleborns. Hermione was the one who had done the footwork to get AMBWWWSS funded. Hermione was the one who did the research, who did the arithmancy, who did the fucking legwork to get any of this off the ground. And yet, it was Pansy bloody Parkinson who swooped in with the one idea that had actually caught on and changed everything.
She tried to remind herself that regardless of who got the recognition for the project, the outcome was what mattered. And the outcome had been brilliant. There was even talk of incorporating the magical mailboxes in all wizarding households moving forward. It was needed. But, Merlin-be-damned if Hermione wasn't a little bitter that it was not her on the stage receiving that plaque.
"My mum always said if you scowl for too long, your face will get stuck like that."
Hermione blinked a few times, tearing her eyes away from the congratulatory handshakes and sea of excited reporters as Kingsley Shacklebolt and Pansy stepped down from the stage. Remus smirked at her, popping a mini quiche into his mouth and chewed slowly.
"I'm not scowling," Hermione insisted. "This is just my face."
Remus' eyes danced with humor as he swallowed, reaching for his wine glass to take a sip. "Love, I've woken up next to that face for quite some time now. That's definitely your 'I'm angry and I don't want people to know' face."
"I'm not angry," she said, grabbing a champagne flute off the tray that floated by. She downed the bubbly beverage in three swift gulps and reached for another. "I'm overjoyed for Pansy and her…contributions."
Remus snorted, "Was that painful for you to say? It looked painful."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You've got crumbs on your collar."
Remus laughed, dusting at the collar of his dress robes. "You've put together this beautiful gala, don't you want to get up and enjoy it? Why don't you go and find Harry or Ginny? See if one of them can cheer you up."
"I don't need cheering up," Hermione grumbled, draining another flute of champagne. "I'm perfectly cheered."
Remus raised an eyebrow, looking at her from over the rim of his glass. "Well, that's good. Because Harry is over there chatting with Pansy, now."
Hermione's head whipped in the direction that Remus' extended finger pointed, and she practically growled with aggravation. "That is my best friend that—that harpy is chatting up! It's like he doesn't even remember that she tried to hand him over!"
Remus' hand rested on the back of her neck, his palm warm and heavy on her skin. "That was a long time ago. I thought we'd gotten past this. You've been working with Pansy for months on this project."
"I'm well aware how long I've been working on this project, thank you, Remus! What do I care if I receive recognition for it? I mean, as long as the transition is easier for Muggleborns, that's all that matters, right?" Hermione said, her voice a bit too high.
"I don't care if Pansy has a gold plaque with her name on it to hang in her office. Or that Harry talks to her all the time as if they're the best of friends. Or that Viktor talked about her in the last letter he sent me," she continued, fully realizing that she sounded a tad hysterical now. "And I definitely don't give a single hippogriff shit that she has consistently teased me about the name of the society—even though it has a simple and easy to remember acronym!"
"Ah, yes. AMBWWS," Remus nodded. "So simple. Elegant, even."
"It's A-M-B-W-W-W-S-S!" Hermione hissed, "You forgot a 'w' and a 's'! It isn't advanced alchemy! It's eight letters! Why is that so bloody difficult?"
Remus laughed nervously, his hand kneading the tension from her neck. She lifted another dainty glass to her lips and he reached over, plucking it from her fingers. Hermione glared indignantly at him, her lips pressed together in a tight line.
"Come on, love. Don't you think you might be over—"
"Remus, I swear to Merlin if you tell me I'm overreacting right now, I will hex you."
"I know you're frustrated, Hermione. But, look at all the good you've done! How many students will be able to write home far more frequently than before now? All the parents that will be able to actually send their children care packages and keep in touch. You may not be the one up there receiving the praise tonight, but it's still your name on the motions that were passed. It's still your program that succeeded."
Hermione sighed, leaning into his side. "You're right and I know that. I just worked really hard to get this all off the ground and it's maddening to see a pureblood receive the accolades. It feels like a step in the wrong direction."
"I think you're being a bit judgemental. You know as well as I do that Pansy is the one who came up with the modifications to the mailboxes. And it has nothing to do with blood status."
"A bit judgemental? Says the man who re-planted the neighbour's begonias because they did it wrong!" Hermione countered, "I'm not being judgemental! Judgemental would be pointing out that she's definitely sleeping with Malfoy still, even though she swears they aren't."
Remus deadpanned, "The roots were bound and you know that. Besides, we aren't talking about me right now. And, you don't know that Malfoy and Pansy are seeing each other. Isn't he with that Greengrass girl, anyway?"
"Do you think it really matters to him if he is? He's a git." Hermione groaned at the stern look Remus gave her and scrubbed her face with her hands. "I know."
Remus stared at her, narrowing his eyes slightly and Hermione huffed, flapping her hands around far too much to be considered sober.
"I know, okay? I know. I am happy that the mailboxes were a success. I'm happy for Pansy. I just…" Hermione swallowed, her throat feeling thick with emotion, and she could feel her eyes burning. She blinked rapidly. It would not do to go and start crying now. She had makeup on, for Merlin's sake. "It would have been nice for it to not be a pureblood to get the recognition. I know I sound ridiculous and selfish and—"
"A lot like you're digging at old wounds?" Remus offered.
Hermione scowled. "Yes. Okay, I know how it sounds. I just worked really hard to get AMBWWWS off the ground and—"
Remus interrupted her again, a smirk on his face. "You forgot a 'S'."
Hermione burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Okay, it's a bit much."
"It's only eight letters."
Hermione bit back a smile, landing a playful slap to Remus' chest. He caught her hand, holding it against him. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her palm and she let out a slow breath.
Remus was right—of course he was, he was always right. She should be proud of the work she'd done. Not only for muggleborns, but for anyone who wasn't a pureblood. And, the fact that she had a prolific pureblood name working with her on these projects should be proof enough that Hermione had had a heavy hand in bridging the gap in blood prejudice. Had Remus been sitting next to her at a Ministry event when she first started five years ago, he'd have been thrown out. Now, no one even gave him a second glance.
Remus leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, soft and sweet. When he pulled away, Hermione felt herself smile.
"We can leave soon if you want to," he whispered. "But, I think there's something you might like to know."
The smile hadn't left her face. Merlin, how she loved this man and his ability to talk her back from the edge of hysterics. She expected him to tell her that she was intelligent and beautiful and clever and whatever else he'd normally tell her in this type of situation. Instead, she noticed how his eyes moved from hers to just over her shoulder and a mischievous look took his face.
"Oh?" Hermione asked curiously, pulling away slightly.
"I just saw Pansy follow Draco Malfoy into the stairwell."
Hermione gasped, "I knew it!"