Chapter Text
Hermione
Hermione ducked under the awning of a small shop as the rain began to fall harder.
“Blast,” she whispered to herself as she stared at her destination on the other side of Diagon Alley. She avoided the eyes of a few men who were looking at her curiously, no doubt wondering why a witch like herself was out wandering alone.
The wooden sign for The Brown & Patil Agency was being soaked through on the other side of the street, but there was nothing for it. Hermione had to get inside, as dry and presentable as possible.
It wasn’t really the done thing for a lady to perform magic in public, but Hermione was more practical than polite. She pulled out her wand and muttered a quick impervious spell over her head before she slipped her wand back into her small beaded reticule. Then she pulled out the advertisement to confirm she had the right place and nodded to herself.
She crossed the cobblestoned street quickly, ignoring a few calls from wizards who were obviously not gentlemen. She breathed a sigh of relief as she opened the agency’s door and a bell tinkled inside.
“One moment!” called a voice from the back.
Hermione lowered herself into a nearby chair as she tried not to bite her lip with nerves. She desperately needed this to go well or else she might have to seek employment in the muggle world instead. Hermione knew she could do it if she had to, but she had no deep connections there any longer, and starting over felt insurmountable.
I won’t have to do that. I’ll be able to get this post. Just stay calm and confident, while also showing them how demure you can be.
“May I help you?” came a light voice, and Hermione looked up to see a blonde woman wearing a maroon dress. The dress was very conservative, but Hermione’s practiced eye roved over the well-cut silhouette and the fine silk. It was obvious that this woman knew what was expected of her station and dressed accordingly; but she was also very successful in her chosen profession to afford a dress this fine.
Hermione’s esteem rose ever so slightly, and she hoped the woman would see something similar in Hermione’s own person.
“Good afternoon,” said Hermione, as she rose. “My name is Hermione Granger. I have come to respond to an advertisement that was in The Quibbler for a governess. The advertisement directed me to apply here for the post.”
The woman nodded smartly and reached out for the advertisement Hermione had torn out of her previous employer’s magazine, just as she was leaving the premises for the final time.
Hermione handed it over, having already memorized it by heart.
The D. of W. is seeking a governess for two witches, aged 7 and 17. Must be versed in theoretical and practical magical arts, etiquette, and deportment consistent with witches of a particular class. Serious inquiries only at The Brown & Patil Agency, Diagon Alley. Rates are negotiable based on references and experience.
“Ah yes,” said the witch. “Come this way, please, and we can conduct an interview.”
Hermione took a steadied breath and made her way through the door to a small office, where the witch lowered herself on one side of the desk and invited Hermione to sit on the other side.
“Now then, please let me introduce myself. My name is Miss Lavender Brown. I am one of the owners of this establishment.”
Hermione straightened up, very impressed. Miss Brown appeared to be approximately the same age as Hermione, and it was clear she had already made a name for herself in her chosen profession.
“As you may know, we place staff, governesses, and companions in some of the most esteemed households in wizarding Britain. We have exacting standards, and our clients trust us to separate the crups from the dogs before they ever cross the threshold.”
Hermione swallowed hard, unsure if she was supposed to be a ‘crup’ or a ‘dog’ in Miss Brown’s analogy, but unwilling to question her when it became clear that she would have the final say on Hermione’s future prospects.
“I understand,” said Hermione in her most conciliatory tone.
Miss Brown gave her a smile. “Very good. In that case, perhaps you have an application letter I could review, along with references? I’m afraid we have already turned away six applicants for the post in question.”
Hermione tried not to show her shock. The advertisement was brand new, published just two days earlier. Hermione had selected it solely due to necessity and the negotiable rate of pay. She didn’t know precisely who the D. of W. was nor anything about the girls she was to teach, but evidently the post was an exclusive one if the agency had already rejected six other witches for it.
Exacting standards indeed.
Hermione tried not to let her nerves show. She simply inclined her head and pulled out her application letter, which included her O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores, along with several references.
Miss Brown placed a pair of spectacles on her nose and peered down at the letter, her eyebrows raising when she saw Hermione’s scores.
“Near-perfect O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s… and in far more subjects than we typically see. You must have had tutoring then? Most witches only seek O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in one or two subjects, if any. I’m sure you know it’s far less common for witches than wizards.”
“I did have extensive tutoring,” said Hermione immediately. “I was a ward in a genteel household from the age of five, and I had the best education galleons could buy for a witch.”
Miss Brown glanced at her curiously, the unsaid questioning hanging in the air.
Then what happened?
Hermione didn’t answer it, but her mind was pulled to that horrible day when Lily and James Potter were both murdered.
Hermione had been a ward of the Potters, having been discovered doing accidental magic as a young child in the neighboring muggle village near Godric’s Hallow. Most muggleborns were eventually found and sent to basic schools that did little more than teach them household magic to enter service one day. But a few — like Hermione — experienced a more robust education when they were discovered very young or when their muggle parents had enough influence and coin to learn why their children were making toys float in the air.
Lily Potter, who was muggleborn herself, had seen Hermione throw a tantrum on the street and shatter a nearby window in her rage. Lily had assisted with the clean-up and had taken an interest in Hermione from that moment on. Hermione’s parents eventually turned over guardianship to the Potters with some relief because it was not the first time she had destroyed property with her magic.
Her parents understood that their daughter’s abilities required training that was beyond them.
Hermione grew up with an adopted brother ten months her junior, and he had been her closest companion during their childhood. Hermione still saw her muggle parents now and then, but they had become a bit distant over time as Hermione immersed herself in the magical world and became increasingly less muggle with each passing year.
The day the Potters died, Hermione had been in the schoolroom at their manor in the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow revising for her N.E.W.T.s, when she heard Harry shouting from the entry hall. Of course she had immediately run to his aid, but by the time she arrived, all three Potters were bleeding out. Hermione watched as a flash of green light took Lily Potter, which was a small mercy considering her injuries. Before Hermione had a chance to scream and alert the perpetrator to her presence, he was gone in a whirl of apparition, the wards broken. Hermione had been absolutely frantic when she realized that both Potters were dead and Harry nearly so. She had managed to save Harry’s life, but after that day nothing had been the same. The Potters had left behind a mountain of paperwork that showed James Potter had been using the family’s gold to buy influence at the Wizengamot in an effort to bring forth legislation that would end much of the discrimination against muggleborns like Lily and Hermione. Harry eventually concluded that all the money James had spent to do this was perfectly legal, but it was also a very expensive project. The moment James Potter died it lost momentum. By the time Hermione and Harry had both completed their N.E.W.T.s it became clear that Harry could not maintain such a large estate on the gold that was left, and he was forced to sell his childhood home.
After Harry sold the manor he bought a small cottage in Godric’s Hollow proper with the proceeds. He then set aside enough gold to buy himself a commission with the aurors so that he could track down the people who had destroyed his family. The Ministry investigation right after their deaths had led nowhere, and Harry swore that he would not rest until their murderers had been brought to justice.
Hermione knew she was welcome to live with Harry for as long as she wished, but she felt guilty for taking advantage of his largess, even though Harry had never once begrudged her any reasonable expense. And given that her real parents could not afford to support Hermione in the magical world either, Hermione had set out on her own to create a comfortable, if modest, living for herself.
Hermione had dreams of working for herself one day, perhaps by opening a bookshop. Harry was in favor of her plan, but it required money neither she nor Harry had at the moment. And seeing as how her last employer failed to pay Hermione’s quarterly wages on her way out the door, Hermione suddenly found herself with a much tighter budget than usual and very unwilling to give Miss Brown a single reason to deny her application.
Miss Brown studied Hermione’s face for a moment longer to see if she would elaborate upon her family’s financial circumstances. When Hermione remained silent, Miss Brown’s expression seemed to clear.
“Your circumspection is a credit to you,” she commented.
Hermione relaxed ever so slightly, feeling as though she had just passed some sort of test.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Miss Brown inclined her head and began to review her references, which made Hermione tense again.
“Rather impressive,” she said to herself. “I see you’ve worked at the Godric’s Hollow Village School and as a governess to Miss Susan Bones and Miss Angelina Johnson, both of whom you tutored through N.E.W.T.s. They seem to have scored very well themselves…”
Hermione inclined her head.
“However…” and here Miss Brown trailed off and frowned. “There appears to be a gap in your employment for the past year or so?”
She looked at Hermione shrewdly, and Hermione forced her face to stay passive.
Hermione absolutely would not tell Miss Brown that she had been terminated without reference from her previous employer, and that’s why she had a gap in her references.
“I’m afraid I was in mourning,” she said, as she tried to draw upon her grief for the Potters and give an elegant sniff. “It was my uncle, you see. I was his ward, and he was as close to me as my own father who passed when I was very young. After my uncle died, I used my savings to honor his memory by observing a year of mourning. I transitioned into half-mourning several months ago and was only recently prepared to seek employment again. He devoted himself to my education, and that included instilling in me a sense of propriety and tradition.”
Miss Brown eyed the grey dress Hermione had intentionally selected for this lie. The dress was actually a sky blue, but Hermione was rather talented with charms, and the moment she entered service she quickly learned that certain household and fashion spells were not as frivolous as she once thought.
Indeed, Hermione had turned the fabric a very convincing gray, and she didn’t think that even Miss Brown’s trained eye would be able to tell that it was charmed and not dyed.
Sure enough, Miss Brown’s face softened with sympathy.
“My condolences on your loss, Miss Granger. I can certainly understand why you have been out of employment for the past year, and I am confident my client would view your attention to tradition and duty as a very positive characteristic.”
Hermione smiled gratefully, relieved that they had moved past the first big hurdle. She braced herself for the next, which was her blood status. Hermione was not ashamed to be muggleborn, but she knew that many would hold it against her. She and Harry claimed to be related to one another when it suited them — such as in the village of Godric’s Hollow, which enabled Hermione to live with Harry unchaperoned and without scandal when she was in between posts. They were both very good about keeping their so-called ‘family connection’ intentionally vague, only leaning on it when needed. It meant that most of Godric’s Hollow believed them to be siblings, and it was an assumption she and Harry had never bothered to correct. She certainly had ample experience answering to the moniker of ‘Miss Potter.’
Hermione knew the Potter name was an old one, but their politics did not always endear her to employers. And her true surname was rather close to that of an old pureblood family who had died out when Hermione was just a child. Most witches and wizards had never heard her real surname until she was seeking employment. And those who did simply assumed Hermione was the last of the Dagworth-Grangers. She usually let them believe it as there was nobody left in that family to contradict it.
Hermione certainly didn’t like hiding her parentage or even her true relationship with Harry, but she was, above all, a very practical witch. Besides, women in her position often disappeared into a household after the initial interview. Very few employers sought to dig below the surface once she was hired. In fact, in her entire career, only one ever had, and that employer was the reason Hermione found herself sitting in this office trying to find a new post. Most of the time, however, Hermione was rather anonymous, and it enabled her to rebel in more subtle ways, such as through the books she assigned to her students.
With that single exception, her employers had never caught on to Hermione’s true nature or interests, let alone her family history.
Hermione tensed as she waited for the question about blood to come, but to her utter shock Miss Brown did not ask. Maybe she thought a muggle birth was too outlandish, given Hermione’s impressive O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Miss Brown surely considered herself to be an excellent judge of character, and questions of blood were certainly uncouth.
Whatever the reason, Hermione found herself fully relaxing for the first time since she had walked in, once Miss Brown moved on to more perfunctory questions.
Thirty minutes later, Hermione was still speaking to Miss Brown, who finally sat back and gave Hermione an assessing look.
“Well I must say I think this can work, Miss Granger. And now I should ask: do you have any questions about the post?”
Hermione straightened up, eager to learn more now that she had been judged suitable.
“I have several, actually, but perhaps you can tell me the things you feel are most relevant? I’m sure you will answer some of my questions that way.”
Miss Brown smiled agreeably.
“Very well. As you may have surmised based on the ages of your charges, the position is in the household of the Duke of Wiltshire.”
Hermione froze at the name and struggled to keep her face passive. The Duke of Wiltshire was a Malfoy, Hermione was almost certain of it. She had worked for members of Society before, but never for anybody who moved in circles that exclusive. The only exception to this, of course, had been Harry’s former godfather Sirius Black, who had been an earl before his death, though a very reluctant one. Hermione knew that Sirius descended from the same families as the Malfoys, but relations between them had always been hostile. Sirius then died without an heir, and Hermione wasn’t sure what happened to his title and estate. The gold and property Sirius had promised to Harry and Hermione had certainly never materialized after his death, and Harry had always believed the Malfoys or perhaps the Lestranges had something to do with it, though she knew he had never found proof. The goblins and the Ministry had simply denied Harry without further explanation when he approached both, seeking the things Sirius had said would be their inheritance.
What would Harry say?
No doubt he would warn her off. Sirius Black had never had a kind word for his distant cousins, and Harry had internalized that dislike even more than Hermione had. Hermione knew that Sirius censored his stories about Lucius Malfoy when Hermione was in earshot — gentlemen always did — so there was more to the story of their mutual dislike than some poorly conceived pranks and insults when they were at Hogwarts together.
Then again, Harry told her a few years ago that Lucius Malfoy was gone. She couldn’t remember precisely when she heard the news, but she was quite certain that he was now dead. That meant the current Duke of Wiltshire was presumably his son, whom Hermione knew nothing about. The papers and scandal sheets which Hermione consumed with more enthusiasm than was strictly proper were surprisingly quiet about him. It was only the very rare appearance at the occasional ball that ever prompted them to put his name in print, and even then there was very little to report. She had no idea if he followed in his father’s footsteps and continued the feud with the Blacks once he assumed control of the estate. In fact, Sirius may have already been dead by the time the current duke rose to his position. Hermione couldn’t be certain about the timing.
I’ll point this out to Harry. Besides, the Duke of Wiltshire will know me as Hermione Granger, if he ever notices me at all. He would have no reason to pay any attention to me in the first place, and if he does then he won’t know of my relationship with the Potters or the Blacks. I need this post more than I need Harry’s approval.
That was the crux of it. A post in the household of any duke was sure to give Hermione a kind of professional polish she could never hope to achieve anywhere else, provided she obtained a reference before leaving. It would allow her to have her pick of households for future employment once it was over. She might be able to work with Miss Brown again to secure a different position, and that meant her blood status would not be questioned going forward. Perhaps it would even pay well enough or last long enough that her dreams of opening her own bookshop would be realized by the time she left.
“I did wonder…” said Hermione carefully, hoping her shock about the duke’s identity and internal conflict did not show on her face.
Miss Brown smiled.
“Yes, you guessed correctly. As I’m sure you are aware, His Grace has a young sister and once had two wards who are about ten years older than she is. The eldest ward secured her match in the last Season, but the younger is still in his household and requires preparation for her N.EW.T.s.”
Hermione straightened up. “So I would be tutoring both?”
Miss Brown nodded. “Yes, and candidly that’s been the issue with the other applicants. His Grace is seeking a governess who is equipped to educate both a seven-year-old and a seventeen-year-old on the brink of her N.E.W.T.s. The other governesses we have interviewed have been suitable for one or the other, but not both.”
Hermione knew she was qualified to teach both and had the experience to back it up. Still, the arrangement struck her as odd.
“I certainly have no qualms about teaching both levels. But is that not unusual? Surely His Grace would prefer each young lady to have her own, dedicated staff, including her own governess?”
Miss Brown hid a smile. “Normally you would be correct, and I’ll admit I must dance on the edge of my own confidentiality agreement with His Grace to tell you this… but I think it must be said.”
Miss Brown fell silent for a moment, as though trying to determine how she should phrase the next thing she wished to say.
She’s under a vow of silence.
Hermione nearly jolted in her seat at this realization, but that had to be the case. Evidently Miss Brown’s discretion was not just good business sense, but was being magically compelled in this instance.
“As you may be aware,” she said carefully, “His Grace’s household has been entirely above scandal during the years in which His Grace has controlled the estate. There are reasons for this, one of which is that he does not tolerate public gossip, not even from his servants. He has taken some unusual steps to ensure loyalty among his staff, and that includes keeping the total number of persons employed within his household smaller than would be typical for an estate of its size. However, he commands excellence from those whom he employs, so he has never been inclined to increase the number of footmen, for instance, just for the sake of having more.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes, but nodded slowly.
“And the governess position?” she prompted.
“There has only ever been one governess,” admitted Miss Brown. “Before His Grace’s eldest ward secured her marriage, she and her younger sister shared a governess because they are very close in age. That governess was replaced every few years as the young ladies’ educations required it. With the eldest out of the household now, His Grace prefers the governess position to be shared between his ward who is still under his roof and his younger sister, now that she is old enough to require one. Given their ages, his sister will need a governess for some years to come, but the elder will not need one once her N.E.W.T.s are complete and she is out in Society. He sees no reason to employ two different people for this, especially when one of them would have their duties vanish in the next few months. It does, however, necessitate finding a young woman like yourself who is able to be more…. flexible in the short term than those who have been placed in his household in the past.”
“I see,” said Hermione. “No doubt His Grace does not enjoy dealing with turnover in his staff.”
“Precisely,” said Miss Brown with some relief that Hermione understood so quickly. “Their previous governess left when his eldest ward married. I understand she was sickly, and she did not prefer to teach young children in any event. But as you said, His Grace does not care for turnover unless it is absolutely necessary, and he is hoping to find a governess who is prepared to teach his sister the full curriculum she will be needing over the course of many years. He views the current situation as a perfect opportunity to test the next governess’s abilities for the long term, since one of the young ladies needs advanced tutoring and the other does not. He does, however, recognize that this is an unconventional arrangement, and he is prepared to compensate for it accordingly.”
Hermione did not allow her expression to change, but nodded her head encouragingly. Talk of money was quite gauche, she knew, but it was a reality of the circumstances in which she presently found herself. She hoped Miss Brown would simply give her that information without the need to ask for it directly.
“As it stands, His Grace will be offering five galleons per week in wages, which are meant to compensate for the work required for his sister. For his ward, he is prepared to offer one hundred galleons upfront, plus a ten galleon bonus for every N.E.W.T. she achieves with a score of ‘Acceptable’ or higher. He feels that this is more than fair given that the work for her will be short-lived and should be completed in the next few months. He also said that if he has a need for the governess to perform any other duties for his ward after her N.E.W.T.s are complete, then he is prepared to separately compensate for those duties as well, but that is something that will need to be addressed when the time comes. Of course, your room and board will also be provided for the duration of your employment, as is customary, and he will provide an allowance of twenty-five galleons per year for clothing and other personal items befitting your station.”
It took every ounce of training that Hermione possessed not to gape when she heard the terms.
Her previous post had been rather generous at one galleon per week, though of course her last quarter’s wages were never paid, and she was required to tutor a pair of teenaged twins who were unruly at their best and positively vicious at their worst. This was five times the rate of pay for a seven-year-old, plus an additional amount in the near-term for the elder girl who needed tutoring for her N.E.W.T.s. The performance bonus and annual stipend for clothing and personal effects were also not customary in her line of work. With that stipend and her room and board covered, she would not need to spend her wages on anything, and Hermione rather quickly calculated just how much she could save by working there for a full year or even two or three.
It was similar to what Harry earned with the aurors, and it would be enough to make her dreams of owning a bookshop come true years earlier than they otherwise would. Only those lucky women like Miss Brown who managed to run their own businesses earned wages that the Duke of Wiltshire was prepared to offer, and only then if they were very successful. It wasn’t just more than fair, it was overly generous.
“I see,” she said.
“Does that sound suitable? Do you have any other questions?” asked Miss Brown.
“Very suitable,” said Hermione quickly. “I assume wages are paid quarterly?”
Miss Brown nodded. “Yes, your weekly wages are paid quarterly in arrears. The one hundred galleon bonus, however, will be paid on the day of your arrival as a show of good faith, and the bonus for the N.E.W.T.s will be paid the day results are released. All of the staff receive a clothing allowance, and as I understand it he has tailors and seamstresses and modistes come to the estate just after the holidays to prepare for the Season and provide clothing for the next year. Your access to the allowance will occur at the same time as the rest of the staff.”
Hermione knew the wizarding Season tended to align with the muggle one. As much as the wizarding elite liked to eschew the muggles, she knew that many of them carried muggle titles. Some titles had been eliminated from muggle records after the Statute of Secrecy went into place, but certainly not all. And for that reason there was a small, but significant, number of wizards who attended sessions of both the Wizengamot and Parliament. The social seasons, therefore, overlapped as well and typically picked up in earnest sometime during the spring.
Miss Brown eyed her gray gown again.
“In fact, the timing of that should work rather well for you. I assume you will be prepared to move past half-mourning at that point, though I cannot imagine that His Grace would object to another year of it if that is your preference. I am happy to owl ahead and inform him that you are in half-mourning so that he knows what to expect.”
Hermione really wanted to tell Miss Brown not to bother, but she couldn’t come up with an elegant way to say it. She had told the lie and now had to live it, but she assured herself that another few months of clothing charmed gray and lavender would be worth securing this post.
It’s October. I can hang on until Christmas.
It would be a rather dull autumn for her wardrobe, but it had never been terribly bold in any event. She learned very quickly that governesses were expected to be staid, modest, and plain. Most of her dresses reflected it.
“Thank you,” said Hermione demurely. “I would appreciate your letting him know, and I agree the new wardrobe will come at the perfect time.”
Miss Brown now rose so Hermione did too.
“Excellent. Then may I presume that you’re willing to accept the position?”
“I am,” said Hermione, who extended a hand to shake. “I look forward to starting at His Grace’s earliest convenience.”
Miss Brown smiled.
“I will owl you details as soon as I confirm that he is satisfied with my recommendation. I expect you will hear from me within a fortnight. If you think of any other questions in the meantime, please reach out.”
Hermione smiled broadly and left her direction with Miss Brown before slipping out of the agency. She had news to break to Harry. She knew he wouldn’t like it, but she didn’t care.
This was her future, and something told her that this position would change everything.
******
Draco
“Your Grace, you’ve received an owl,” came a familiar voice.
“Leave it,” said Draco shortly. He was looking out of the window of his upper study, as was his habit this time of day. He felt a twinge of guilt for his tone, but he quickly pushed it away. His mind was heavy as he observed the thing he had been fearing for months now.
There was no longer any question about it: the estate was dying, and the magic was turning inward to destroy the Malfoy legacy. It had taken years, but the last vestiges of life in the gardens were finally becoming affected – the places he had always believed the polluted magic would never touch. His mother’s passing had started it, and his father’s passing had accelerated it. Now Draco thought that he must have contributed to it as well because he had waited too long to do his duty.
He certainly had not discovered any other explanation for it after several months of searching, and it was the last thing he could think of.
He was resigning himself to the steps it would take to find a wife. It would be no great matter, but it was rather inconvenient. The Season was always quite busy for him, as he had to make appearances in both the Wizengamot and the House of Lords. He had little time for balls and other social nonsense, but this year he would have no choice.
It would be expected for him to find a wife out of the crop of young ladies in their first Season. They would be sheltered and gently bred, fresh-faced and untarnished. Draco found it all rather distasteful, as he knew the young ladies on the Marriage Mart this upcoming Season would be near the same age as his own ward. He would have nothing at all in common with them, and he would not be able to see them as anything but children. He knew most of the men in his position found it palatable or even desirable, but he certainly did not. Perhaps he could find a hidden gem who was a touch older and had simply been overlooked during her first Season or two… But that would require him to spend actual time combing ballrooms for such a treasure.
No, it would be better to follow convention. The needs of the estate came before his own personal feelings about it. He had known that since he was in leading strings.
His eyes fell on the decay that had encroached upon the section of the rose garden that he had been sure would always remain untouched. It had been the place his mother spent most of her free time, but whatever she had done to twist the Malfoy magic to her will had slowly poisoned everything after her death, including her most cherished corner of the gardens.
Draco’s mouth tightened. He had no choice, then. He had found no alternative solutions, and continuing the bloodline was the last thing he could think of before it was all dead and the magic of Malfoy Manor failed at last.
He turned from the window, and his eyes landed on the letter his butler had just delivered. He raised an eyebrow to see that it was from The Brown & Patil Agency. He knew this must be about that blasted governess position.
Draco loathed turnover in his staff, but he had had no choice with the string of governesses for his elder two wards over the last several years. All of them had shortcomings of one sort or another. Some worked well with young children but not older ones, so their shine wore off as the girls aged. Others had overstated their qualifications. One had found a beau in the village and left of her own accord. And before Draco’s father died, there had even been one…
No. Best not think of that one.
Draco and Lucius before him had never found a governess who was perfect, so now that he was forced to search for one yet again he engaged the most exclusive employment agency in London in the hopes that they would find a suitable match for his household. He thought their letter rather premature, as the advertisement had only appeared in The Quibbler a couple of days earlier, but perhaps he had gotten lucky for once.
He sighed as he tapped his wand to the parchment, and it unfolded in midair as he began to read.
Your Grace,
Since the advertisement we placed in The Quibbler was published, we have received no less than seven applicants for your post. We are aware that you are seeking a governess of truly extraordinary ability, along with a willingness to be flexible in the short term and, it goes without saying, one who is entirely above reproach.
The first six applicants to visit our offices were not suitable for any number of reasons, but I feel the seventh may be ideal for the type of witch you are seeking. I have enclosed a copy of her O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores, which you will see are far above what is average, even for those who were educated at Hogwarts. She has prepared two other young ladies for their N.E.W.T.s – a Miss Susan Bones and Miss Angelina Johnson – both of whom achieved exceptional scores themselves under her tutelage. Furthermore, she has experience teaching children in a wide range of ages at the Godric’s Hollow Village School, and she spoke with fondness of her time there.
I’ll finish this letter by noting that she has spent the last year or more in mourning for her late uncle. She said that he prioritized her education, and that included instruction on matters of propriety and tradition. She said that honoring him by observing a mourning period felt like the least she could do. I am under the impression that she spent her savings from her previous posts cloistered during mourning and has now emerged due to financial necessity. She appeared in half-mourning during our interview, and I would expect her to stay in half-mourning through the end of the year.
While the search did not take as long as we anticipated, I would highly recommend selecting Miss Granger for the post. As you know, Miss Patil and I have been in this business for several years, and we can assure you that a candidate of her caliber is exceedingly rare.
Please let me know if she is satisfactory, and if so I will be happy to owl her on your behalf.
I am, with the highest regards,
Miss Lavender Brown
Founder, The Brown & Patil Agency
Draco slipped the enclosed O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores out from the back, and his eyebrows flew up in disbelief.
She had achieved twelve O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in every subject the examiners offered. She obtained O’s across the board, except for a single E in her Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. Her N.E.W.T.s were perfect, however, and she even had a note of distinction attached to the magical transcript she had submitted.
Draco furrowed his brow when he read Recipient of the Albus Dumbledore Award for the highest N.E.W.T. score of the year.
It was absolutely unheard of. That award always went to a Hogwarts student, or so he thought. Draco had narrowly missed winning it during his own year – it had been awarded to his close friend and academic rival Theodore Nott instead.
But could Miss Granger have received it too?
If her scores were legitimate, Draco knew that the answer was ‘yes.’ Draco himself had sat for nine N.E.W.T.s. Theo had managed to sit for ten, and it was the reason he had barely edged out Draco. To select the recipient of the award, the committee granted one point for each level achieved for each N.E.W.T. Students always made a calculated decision between taking more subjects and risking lower scores or fewer subjects in which they thought they could achieve higher scores in order to boost their total points awarded.
Miss Granger, it appeared, had achieved the highest score possible, which to Draco’s knowledge had not happened since Albus Dumbledore himself. She had taken all twelve N.E.W.T. subjects and earned an O in each one of them.
Had she forged this transcript?
It seemed nearly impossible to think that a witch who had not attended Hogwarts – for no witches attended Hogwarts – had scored this well. And yet, he recalled a rumor from several years ago that the award had not gone to a Hogwarts student due to some scoring anomaly. It had been a severe upset, and the examination committee had tried to hush it up when they learned that somebody who did not attend Hogwarts had achieved the highest score. Draco had found it mildly intriguing at the time, but then the rumors died down, and he forgot all about it. He assumed that the winner had simply been from one of the rival schools that educated the working class.
But perhaps it had been a witch – this witch, who was now applying to work in his household. He knew the examination committee used enchantments to ensure the authenticity of their transcripts. A forgery would be very difficult, though perhaps not impossible.
Draco decided he would write to his old headmaster and confirm Miss Granger’s scores before responding to Miss Brown. Draco had never been terribly fond of Albus Dumbledore, but he would know the truth of it. As Headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore received copies of all student examinations and score transcripts, even those who did not attend his school. It was, perhaps, a trifle unfair, but it ensured that Hogwarts always stayed on top.
Draco decided that if Dumbledore confirmed Miss Granger’s scores then Draco really had no choice but to hire her. He would be derelict in his duty toward his sister and his ward if he turned down an applicant like Miss Granger without some other reason for it.
Nodding to himself, Draco pulled out a piece of parchment and quill, hoping that Dumbledore would deliver good news. With any luck, Miss Granger would be the last governess Draco ever had to hire.