Three

"You wished to see me, Garvon?" Hermione asked. A summons to her supervisor's office at the end of the work day usually didn't bode well.

The goblin nodded, his long fingers tapping on one of the rolls of parchment that festooned his desk. "You know, I assume, that we recently acquired control of the Zurich Consortium." It wasn't a question; Garvon knew that Hermione rarely forgot anything.

It was her turn to nod. Rumors concerning the take-over of ZC had been flying around Gringotts for months. With it completed, Gringotts now controlled wizard banking in America and Europe as well as Britain. What this had to do with Spell Research, though, she couldn't guess. She knew, though, that Garvon was about to tell her and then give her a chance to ask questions.

"Our acquisition was not entirely desired," her supervisor continued. "Many of the Consortium chose to leave their work areas bespelled before they left, vaults, offices, and so forth. This has hampered our ability to provide a smooth transition in services to our new customers. It has been decided that our best Spell Researchers and Curse-Breakers should relocate to America to facilitate our work there. Your name is at the top of the list. Do you wish a transfer to our newly created American Division?"

Hermione bit her tongue to keep from blurting out the first thoughts that came into her head. After a moment, she asked. "Relocation expenses?"

"Paid by Gringotts, of course," Garvon answered. "Housing is available in the wizard town of Otter Creek. The position carries a hardship stipend of ten galleons per work day, and our customary bonuses for exemplary work will apply. Overtime may be required in some circumstances, with appropriate compensation. We estimate that it will take ten years to restore complete functionality, and you would be required to commit to staying in America for that time. Of course, on your days off, you could return to Britain."

"I must discuss it with my husband," Hermione said. "I will let you know tomorrow morning."

"Acceptable. I will speak with you then." He opened up the ledger on his desk and bent over it, signifying that the conversation was over.

Hermione slowly walked out to the Apparition point, considering. Ten galleons per work day. Unless the cost of living in Otter Creek was significantly higher than Hogsmeade, she'd be taking home another two hundred galleons each month. It would be nice to have the extra money; she hadn't forgotten how awful it had been when she was working at Flourish & Blotts, and every knut had been counted twice.

On the other hand, it would mean leaving her friends behind. Did she really want to start over again, like the little first-year she'd once been? She still winced internally when she recalled Ron's callous declaration that she was a fright. He'd never apologized for it. Of course, they'd been a bit distracted by the troll immediately afterward, and then spent the next several years fighting with Voldemort. But she remembered. And ten years was a long time to be lonely.

There was also Severus to consider. Assuming she could even get him to discuss the opportunity. He'd be much more likely to launch into a tirade about her working without telling him. Or worse, he'd glower for a minute and then relapse into an unresponsive silence. Perhaps it would be better – if she accepted the transfer – to put him in St. Mungos.

She bit her lip and Apparated.

Delky had noticed the door hinge apparently, for it swung smoothly and closed almost silently as she entered the house. As if the thought was enough to Summon him, the elf appeared, wiping his hands on his apron.

"Dinner is almost ready, Mistress," he reported. "And the Master ate most of his lunch today."

That was a hopeful sign. Severus ate little to nothing during his sulks. "Any owls?"

Delky nodded and produced three rolls of parchment. One from Ginny, one from St. Mungos, and one from Gringotts. Grumbling a little under her breath, she accepted them. "Thanks. I'll read these and then have dinner." She chose to start with St. Mungos. As expected it was their quarterly 'sorry, no money for research, can't help you' owl. The one from Ginny was an invitation to dinner at the Burrow for the following night. And the one from Gringotts was a formal invitation to transfer to Spell, Curse, and Antidote Research, American Body – SCARAB for short. Apparently Gringotts was reorganizing internally, for her current position was listed as Spell, Curse, Antidote Research and Revision, English Division. She snorted at the acronyms and then put the letter from St. Mungos in the trash, resolving to owl Ginny back later that evening.

"I'll take Severus' dinner into him tonight," she told Delky. The house-elf nodded and sat down to have his own meal. Hermione picked up the tray and went into her husband's room. He was sitting up the way Delky had propped him, waiting for her.

"Slumming?" His voice didn't sound angry. More like resigned.

She set the tray down on the bed-table. "Please, Severus, I don't want to fight with you. I actually want to talk to you."

"I was wondering when you would decide to. But could we put off the unpleasantness until after I eat? I find my digestion prone to upset these days."

"You were? Sorry." She brought the tray over. Yorkshire pudding. She carved it into bite sized pieces and offered him one.

"The elf's outdone himself tonight," he said. "Or did you get a new one?"

"No, this is Delky's cooking." She thought of something – a relatively innocuous question. "Severus, how much do you know about American wizard society?"

He chewed and swallowed. "Very little. Thinking of emigrating?"

The direct question caught her off-guard. She'd forgotten how sharp his mind was. "Well, yes, actually."

"I see. I shan't stand in your way, you know. You should be happy."

"You mean that? What about you? Would you be happy?"

"One room's very much like another. I'd be no less happy than I am now." He ate the next few bites of his dinner in silence.

"It would probably be cheaper," she mused aloud. "And I wouldn't have to worry about maintenance charms every two or three weeks. That would all be taken care of."

"Very practical. I'm surprised you haven't made a list of pros and cons yet."

"I was – I just hadn't written it down. You're really ok with this?"

He paused for a long moment. "You deserve to be happy, and if America will make you happy, so be it."

Her eyes shone. "I hadn't expected you to be so understanding. Thank you, Severus!"