The Gilded Cage

MomoDesu- I doubt it's the last we’ve heard of it either.
Pamela- Sorry m’dear. I tend to write everything I feel I need to in order to make my point and then stop.
neelix- I know, isn’t it wonderful?
Dark_Rose- I’m talking with someone now who may beta for me. I think I’ll add it to google docs to flesh it out.
HermioneMalfoyFan- You’re absolutely right, there is never one easy answer in life to something, and especially not in the Potterverse.
AlexMalfoy- Bed… closet… it’s all good.
Elo- Yeah, going crazy for her is a short ride.
Carlieisastreetmonster- Fantastic. Preachin’ to the choir is one thing, but when someone likes it despite their expectations, that’s even better.
Phoenix Rhapsody- Why thank you m’dear, very kind of you.


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Chapter 14 – Lege Et Lacrima


“Then what happened?” Ginny asked her eyes wide and shining.


“I told him to go fuck himself. I might have used some choice words about his mother and disparaged his paternity. But you know what sucked? I only thought of a whole host of better insults to use right after I walked out. But what could I do? I’d look like an idiot if I barged back in.”


“Ugh, I hate when that happens.”


“It’s just damn skippy he’s never called me a mudblood. On Doctor Allport’s Prejudice Scale ‘anti-locution’ is the first step towards ‘extermination.’ Of course, had he called me that I’d have skipped straight to ‘physical attack,’ and I’m just not quite sure what that says about me.”


“I think it means you won’t put up with any bull crap,” Ginny asserted prompting both girls to display predatory Gryffindor grins.


“I’ll go all muggle on his ass,” Hermione teased. “He won’t know what hit him.”


“He might like that you know. He’s probably got a S&M streak a mile wide,” Ginny said with a mischievous glint in her eye.


Hermione set down her wine glass, “I really don’t want to talk about him anymore.”


Ginny nodded understanding perfectly.


“So tell me about your date. Charles was it?”


“Thomas. Charles was two weeks ago.” Ginny was getting accustomed to only having half of her friend’s attention. It used to bother her, but the only way Ginny could see Hermione was to come over the flat with a bottle of wine while she worked on payroll. She could either settle for half her attention or lose Hermione entirely. Hermione of course firmly maintained she was always accessible. Ginny only needed to send her an email or get a Facebook account.


“Uh-huh,” Hermione prompted while leafing through ledgers. “What was the problem this time?”


“Gay. Or at least that’s what he said.”


“You think he was lying to you?” Hermione looked up incredulously. What had Ginny done to scare this one off?


“I don’t know,” Ginny tapped her finger thoughtfully against her lips, “but it seemed really suspicious. He announced it out of the blue right after I told him how many children I wanted.”


“No Gin, you didn’t! On a first date? You’re lucky he didn’t run screaming from the table.”


“Yeah, he looked like he might bail too. But to be fair he did ask me how many I wanted. I couldn’t lie. I mean what if we ended up dating, falling in love, and getting married? That would be so wrong. What would I do, tell him at the altar to add a one in front of the number I gave him?”


“You could have misdirected him, put off answering the question.”


“Mione, you know that doesn’t work. Once my dates connect my red hair and last name that’s the first thing they ask. As a matter of fact, it’s usually more like an interrogation.”


“Well maybe this archaic law with all its ‘production incentives’ will actually work in your favor. It’s got to benefit somebody.” Hermione tried to sound encouraging, but she couldn’t help but tipping her words with a hint of sarcasm. The law was still a sore issue with her.


“Yeah maybe,” Ginny answered softly. “But all the decent wizards are already taken. I’m beginning to believe that Mr. Right is shacking up with Prince Charming, and I’m left to sort through the scraps. You know what? I don’t want to dwell on this. Let’s go out Hermione. I don’t want to sit here wallowing in my sorrows, let’s just go somewhere. I know it’s a weeknight, but I’m sure we can find a party somewhere.”


Hermione dropped her quill, “I can’t do that Gin. I’m sorry, I’ve got all this to do.” She spread her arms out wide to encompass the haphazard stacks of folders that had taken over the kitchen table.


“Just for tonight. Come on we never do anything anymore. When was the last time you went out dancing? Pleeease!”


She shook her head. “You go on without me.”


Ginny narrowed her eyes, “I’m not taking no for an answer. You need this just as much as I do. More so probably.”


“Look Gin, that sounds nice and all, and I’d really like to go out with you. Honest. But if I don’t get these drafts in to the bank on time people aren’t going to get paid this week. You understand? I’m not going to ruin all these people’s lives just because you have an idea to go dancing.”


“So get a bloody accountant!”


“No way.”


“Why not? My brothers have one, and don’t have to deal with this crap. In fact they have a whole lot bigger staff to handle half the work that you take on and they actually have the opportunity to enjoy their success.”


“No,” Hermione said firmly. “I’m not going to entrust the running of my business to wizards who haven’t got math skills past primary school education. If they offered rudimentary subjects at Hogwarts I’d consider it, but as they don’t - I can’t chance it.”


“So run your business and get someone to take over the R&D department. You can’t run both.”


Hermione grabbed a fist full of her hair and tugged. “Yes I can.”


“You need help. Mione, you can’t do this all by yourself.”


“No. What I need is time. I can do this if I just had a moment to concentrate.” She rubbed her forehead unknowingly smearing a large ink stain from her fingers all over.


Ginny was silent for a moment as she considered what to do with her best friend. It was in her nature to stalk off upset and pouting, but she couldn’t leave her Hermione like this.


“Is there something I can do?” She gestured to the stacks of reports. “Maybe there’s something easy you could let me do to help you out.”


Hermione looked at her warily. If there was anything that she might be convinced to entrust to Ginny she knew the moment the witch was finished with it, she’d then go back over her work to double check it. But then, giving Ginny something to do might make her feel like she was helping.


“Progress reports. I could let you take a crack at the progress reports.”


“Ok,” Ginny nodded. “What do I need to do?”


“The progress reports contains a synopsis of every project we are currently working on, the developer also writes about successes, failures, and speculations. It should also contain a detailed description of everything that has happened in the last week. All you would have to do is read it. If there’s anything that strikes you as odd, or if you have a suggestion, write it in the notes section. It usually takes me a long time to go over them, but if you’re willing to make a start it could help me knock through it sooner. It might be helpful to have a different pair of eyes looking at it. You could bring a fresh perspective.”


“Is that all?”


Hermione looked at her in disbelief, obviously Ginny had no idea how invested she was in her progress reports. “Here I’ll show you.” Hermione pulled a fat dark blue folder off the top of a stack of other fat dark blue folders. She had piles of such weekly folders going back several years all organized in miniaturized file cabinets. Hermione estimated she probably had no less than twelve file cabinets in her satchel which never left her side. Paranoid was putting it mildly.


She flipped open the folder as Ginny stood over her shoulder and thumbed to the first tab.


“That son-of-a-bitch! I’ll kill him.”


The margins of her pages were covered in thin spiky black handwriting.


“Well, at least it’s not red ink,” Ginny said sarcastically.


“I’ll kill him.”


Ginny watched as her friend began to melt down and stepped aside.


“They’ll send me to Azkaban, but I’ll kill him. Hmm… I won’t have to get remarried if I’m in prison… I could kill him and live happily ever after. That’s it, I’ll kill him tomorrow.”


“Hermione?”


“I’ll kill him.”


“He’s probably just trying to help. Maybe you should read his notes; they might be good you know.” Ginny looked at her seething friend with genuine concern, Hermione was still muttering ‘I’ll kill him’ over and over under her breath.


“Help? He’s not trying to help me. The man’s trying to ruin me. He probably just did this to throw me off my game.”


“Why would he do that?” Ginny asked quietly.


“Why, because he’s Snape. He does evil things like that. The man isn’t right; nothing he does is because he’s nice. He’s a Deatheater.” Hermione’s hands were now shaking.


“I know. I haven’t forgotten he betrayed us all. But maybe you should just read what he’s written… Hermione?”


Hermione was making a frantic grab for all her recent folders, turning them open and gritting her teeth as she found more and more spiky black handwriting.

A/N:

Lege Et Lacrima - Read it and weep.

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