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[attr="class","ctopline"]Hold the door say please say thank you

[attr="class","cscriptorder"]don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie

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[attr="class","clyrics"]I know you got moutains to climb but[break]
Always stay humble and kind

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[attr="class","cbody"]Fighting with Harry about everyone going back to the Ministry hadn’t been… well, it hadn’t been her finest moment, if she was going to be perfectly honest with herself. Adaline had been the first to get a job at the Ministry and she was proud of her for that choice, but endlessly wary about being in such close contact with Andromeda again. Despite knowing that the Lestrange cared about her goddaughter, Hermione was still well aware of where her loyalties lied. That was the problem. There were people who she valued over Adaline—and who those people were, well, that was what the problem was.
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Still, she trusted her daughter. Adaline had good instincts. She wouldn’t get herself into a situation that she couldn’t get out of. Besides, she had her magic. That gave her an advantage over more than half of the Ministry. Of course, she’d like her daughter not to be in a situation where she had to duel her way out of the Ministry, but the fact remained that she could. If she had to.
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Kingsley had been the next back in the Ministry. Again, right into Andromeda’s office. Hermione knew that this was good—it was all good. People that could direct the right sort of change were heading back to the Ministry, but she was not among them. She could not be among them. The meeting that they’d had back in December had helped, but she wanted to do more than that. The fact that Kingsley could so easily become an adviser, that Harry could talk his way into the aurors’ office, it frustrated her. Not because they didn’t deserve to be there, not because she wasn’t proud that they were, but because she couldn’t.
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After nearly two years trapped on an island, not being able to do anything, she was back in London—and still, not really able to do anything.
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It was frustrating and had resulted in the fight with Harry that had her planning on spending the night at the Project just to prove a point. That was what everyone was pushing her toward, after all. Now that they were back at the Ministry, no one wanted to run the Project anymore. You’re better at it—that was what Harry had said. She figured she might as well take refuge there after their fight. Run the Project, and all.
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But then Oralee had shown up, and she had ended up spending the night at her house instead. Her friend had not let her hear the end of it until she’d agreed—about how she couldn’t stay downtown alone, even there were wards enough to keep the Project safe. In the end, it had just been easier to agree. Her guest room would be more comfortable than a couch anyway.
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It had taken one night away from home and a conversation with Oralee to realize that she needed to go home. As much as she prided herself on being rational, when her temper was involved, even she could make choices that she’d regret the next day. At least she hadn’t thrown the vase at him. She’d thought about it, but she hadn’t done it. Knowing him, he would have caught it anyway. Now that she was back home and they’d talked, Hermione was planning on taking over the Project like he wanted, but also using it for her own means. She hadn’t yet decided how to do that, but the closest that she could get to enacting change was by working parallel with the Ministry, not from within it. That just… wasn’t possible yet.
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Although she and Harry had talked, everything wasn’t entirely settled. Her return had been uncomfortable—awkward, honestly, and had resulted in her deciding to sleep on the couch. She’d woken up back in their bed, so she knew that she should probably take that as a queue to just go up there tonight. But here she was, back on the couch. She hadn’t resolved to sleep down here, or anything. Right now, she was just reading, with a cup of tea on the table next to her. Maybe she would fall asleep on accident, maybe she would go upstairs. It was yet to be determined.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]706 ● Adaline Lily Potter ● harry's quidditch sweatshirt + sweatpants, because those are comfortable pajamas

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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Don't expect a free ride

Don't hold a grudge or a chip

and here's why: Bitterness keeps you from flying
Always stay humble and kinD

Adaline was busy. All the time. It was great. She had gone from being on an island with no one except family for companions to new and different faces all the time. She was thrilled with her work at the Ministry. It was so fast paced. She got caught up in it all and it made her feel alive. So much more so than her time at St. Mungo's. Healing has always been more Liam's thing. He wanted to be a doctor. She just wanted to change the world--and with the epidemic keeping the borders locked down and over two thirds of the wixen population without magic, that was where she felt had to put her focus. Adaline was not so egotistical as to think that she was the one that had to solve the problem, but she was very much an own the change you want to see type of person.

She might have found things more interesting at the Ministry, but she understood the purpose of the training she was receiving at the hospital...and it was required to be in the Magical Medicine program at Bangor. So, yeah, she had to stick with it--because the research Bangor was doing was fascinating. Even after the epidemic got solved--and it was going to be solved--Adaline was confident she was still going to enjoy unraveling the sort of problems the research driven program was encouraging them to figure out. She loved puzzles and quandaries. They stretched her mind in the most delightful way. It all made her feel so alive.

She still was low on friends, but Adaline did not really mind it. She was meeting people--reconnecting with some she had known from Hogwarts (like Lyla Graves) and in class and training with others who were really nice (like Ella MacGuffin). There was Zero, too. She wasn't quite sure what to say about him. He was really nice and much cuter than she had ever imagined when writing him. But things were so off with Teddy. It made it complicated. She still had feelings for the werewolf. They would not seem to just go away, which was very unfortunate considering he was completely ignoring her since she had gone to work for his grandmother. He wouldn't even let her explain...not that any explanation she might have offered would have been good enough for the Lupin. He was as stubborn as anyone she knew, which was saying quite a lot considering who her parents were.

But at least her family members were reasonable and rational--most of the time--lately her mother had not been really showing herself to have those traits. Adaline was blaming the pregnancy, even though Hermione had not been prego when she waltzed into the Ministry all ready to martyr herself. That had been both brilliant and stupid. It had worked out in the end--and Ad was thrilled with the results, especially since laid the groundwork for her to become Junior Assistant to the Minister and to get her father back into law enforcement--but it had still been illogically reckless. Being on the island for long had made them all stir crazy, this could be the manifestation of that to some degree.

Adaline had heard her parents fighting before her mother went off to stay where ever she had spent the night before last night. She had opinions about the way her mother was acting, but she was fully intending to keep them to herself. It was not her place--and really, she had plenty to occupy herself with. She'd pulled a twelve hour shift at the hospital today. She just didn't have it in her to get into any sort of argument with her mother--and be blamed for siding with her father. It wasn't a competition, but it was the same person was winning that had always been winning. Deacon was a Momma's Boy--and Adaline was a Daddy's Girl. It wasn't a big deal. It wasn't as if they didn't both love the other parent, too. Of course they did. Adaline had loved learning from her mother while they were on the island. She had gotten far ahead in her studies--and she had learned so much more than she would have at Hogwarts. It had been great.

But sometimes, she didn't know exactly how to talk to Hermione. She didn't want to say the wrong thing--and so she didn't say anything...and that wasn't right. That wasn't good. Silence hurt everyone. So, even though she was exhausted, when Adaline spotted her mother on the couch reading, the young witch decided to try to engage her mother. "Hey," she greeted, flopping down on the opposite end of the couch. "Whatcha reading?" She had grabbed a butterbeer from the fridge and flicking off the cap with her wand, the witch took a sip from it.

@ mum  • 802 • outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

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[attr="class","ctopline"]HOLD THE DOOR SAY PLEASE SAY THANK YOU

[attr="class","cscriptorder"]don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie

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[attr="class","clyrics"]I KNOW YOU GOT MOUTAINS TO CLIMB BUT[break]
ALWAYS STAY HUMBLE AND KIND

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[attr="class","cbody"]Coming back from the island had been the right thing to do. Of that, Hermione was sure of. They could only stay there for so long. In no way had Viktor or Desirae acted like they had overstayed their welcome, but that didn’t change the facts. The world hadn’t changed yet. The Muggleborn Registration was still in place, and it didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Even with an epidemic that had stripped most of the general population of their magic, the Ministry had still seen fit to subjugate a third of their population. To keep Muggleborns in chains, metaphorically speaking, instead of looking at the big picture.
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The fact was, they needed to work together to find a cure. The answers could be in the mind of a Muggleborn that was getting tortured on a daily basis. It could be in the mind of a bright Hogwarts student that had been planning on going to St. Mungo’s when they graduated, but instead had been sent to that joke of a school that Andromeda had put into place. Instead of seeing that, they had continued putting blood status over everything else, and that was no way to solve this problem. What was happening was bigger than blood purity, and someone had to make them see that.
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It wasn’t that she thought she was the only person that could do that. She was sure that someone else could try. But since they hadn’t, she had decided to call Andromeda’s bluff. She had decided to hope that she wouldn’t end up in Azkaban or dead on the floor of the Atrium. And she hadn’t. Somehow, she had managed to get out of that situation. She wasn’t sure what that said about the woman that she’d thought she’d known. She knew that Andromeda Lestrange was not her friend, was not the woman that she had been closer to than nearly anybody. She knew better than to think that letting her walk right back out of the Ministry again was anything more than a calculated step. But it had been a step that had worked nonetheless. They were moving in the right direction. Hermione had no idea how much further they would get before the purists started to lose faith in their leader. She didn’t know how much more Andromeda could do without losing that support—and would she want that?
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There was no way of knowing what side Andromeda was on. Hermione knew that the world was not black and white. What Andromeda was doing, what her true motives were, they were likely a little more complicated than any of them could fully grasp. Hermione didn’t know if that was reassuring or dangerous. It was both, honestly. The fact that she cared enough about her—or at least Adaline, not to harm them made her feel a bit more secure that nothing horrible was going to happen. But someone that slippery, someone that willing to say one thing and mean something entirely different? That was impossible to trust. Impossible to put faith in.
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And yet, all of the people that she cared about were back in the Ministry. Hermione knew that she couldn’t go back there. Not in the same way. Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t that simple. But that didn’t make it any easier to watch everyone else go back there. To work toward change and put themselves in untold danger in the process. If anything happened to them, to any of them, and she couldn’t be there to help—she would never forgive herself.
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She had to hope that they would look out for each other and be okay. That was all that she could do at this point. She hated it, but it didn’t change the fact that it was the reality that she was dealing with. Harry could call her irrational, Adaline could think what she wanted, but neither one of them had to sit helplessly at home while they went to the Ministry every day. They just couldn’t possibly understand how that felt. Using the Project to get into the Ministry was a start, but she knew it wasn’t going to be enough to ease her worries—or enough to help as much as she wanted to. But for now, she had to take what she could get.
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Hermione knew that she wasn’t a lawyer or a politician, but it was never too late to start learning something. So, when her daughter dropped down onto the couch, Hermione sat up, moving her notes from the couch next to her onto the coffee table, to give her more room. “Modern Treaty Law now,” she answered, before gesturing at the pile of books still left on the table. “Deliberative Democracy in Magical Treaties next.” If a treaty was made, Hermione wasn’t even all that sure she would be a part of that conversation, but that was no reason not to prepare just in case.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]824 ● @ adaline ● harry's quidditch sweatshirt + sweatpants, because those are comfortable pajamas

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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