Disclaimer:Neither Kagumi nor Bridget own anything related to the Harry Potter series, other than the stuff they've bought and the ideas they come up with, that is. Original characters and most of the situations presented, however, they do own.

Author's Notes: Here's a scene from PVV that's been mentioned, but takes place long (well, not too long) before the story starts. In this, we see Harry go to The Bookshop for the first time. And yes, it's written in present tense, Harry's PoV.

Timeline Placement: Harry and Bridget's first meeting.

Until Next Time:

"Small opportunities are often the beginnings of great enterprises." –Demosthenes

Harry is going to kill Ron. Not only is his best friend too busy to buy his bloody wife her books, but he's also the one who managed to impregnate the already frazzled Hermione and turn her into an insane, hormone-fueled banshee of a woman.

It just wasn't safe.

With a self-pitying sigh, he frowns down at the paper in his hand and the one, single book on the list that she absolutely needs to have. (Merlin only knows why she needs a cookbook from the fifties, but he's not about to argue with her; the last argument he'd witnessed, which honestly hadn't even involved him, had ended up with china statuettes being thrown at his head.) Unfortunately, it had been nearly a week since he started his search and he still couldn't find the bloody thing. Any of them. He glances up at the small bookstore Remus had recommended after the last time Harry had visited and spent the hour complaining about Hermione and bookshop conspiracies.

It looks like every other shop he'd visited. Books, both old and new, were displayed in the window and he could see chairs and shelves of books behind the displays. At least it didn't look like it sold illegal books like the last place he'd gone to (both dodging Death Eater hexes and having to arrest the proprietor had created much more paperwork than he was happy with). He looks up at the sign.

"The Bookshop." It's… descriptive. It's also his last hope.

Harry pushes the door opened and sticks his head in to scout it out first. It's just like any other used book store he'd gone to in the hope that they'd have something within the rows upon rows of mismatched books, but he doesn't see any clerks. He double-checks that it's actually open before he goes in and starts wandering aimlessly through the aisles, hoping against hope that he'll stumble across the book. These places never seem to be organized; part of the conspiracy, he is unwaveringly sure. The owners mean to drive innocent bystanders mad, that is it, mad and insane and maybe a little—

"Hello. Can I help you?" a soft voice says from behind him, giving him a start.

Harry spins around and nearly draws his wand before he realizes that she isn't anything close to a threat. The girl (and she is a girl, young and innocent in ways that he hasn't seen in months) smiles at him, slightly wary, but the kind glint in her eyes doesn't fade.

Her smile starts to fade the longer he stands there and he realizes that he should probably say something before she calls the police on him and he has to get Kingsley or, even worse, Malfoy, to bail him out of jail. Again. (There'd also been that shop he had thought sold Dark books. Apparently they just had a "Goth" theme. That one hadn't ended well.)

"Yes, please. I'm looking for, er, this." Harry points out the book he's spent a week praying, with quickly fading hope, would show up somehow, somewhere.

"Really?"

He nods, the small bit of hope fading fast. "I have that. It's in the back, though. And it's rather expensive for a non-collector, but I do have it."

Suddenly, the world is bright again. Harry gazes at her, fully aware that it's probably quite creepy of him, but he doesn't really care. She is all that is good and wonderful in the world and he would—right then and there—do almost anything she could possibly think to ask him to do. Hermione had been getting homicidal (statuettes, for crying out loud) and he had started to contemplate moving out of the country or maybe off the planet, where it was safe.

"A bit urgent is it?" she asks kindly, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

"You have no idea."

She laughs, but it's not mocking and Harry's just so damned relieved that he can't be bothered to care as he follows her towards the back of the shop. Besides, she's pretty and it's consolation enough to be able to watch as she leads the way, her hips softly swaying with the movement.

"Are you looking for these other books, as well?" she asks as she peers down at the paper. She's not even looking as she navigates through the maze-like shelves and Harry's falling more in awe with her as each moment passes.

"Yeah," he replies, starting to feel like he's going to owe this girl his firstborn child. If she has all of Hermione's books…

"I think I have most of these. I'm pretty sure I can find them if I don't." She glances over her shoulder, giving him a grin that would be flirtatious on nearly anyone else. It's a bit of a shame, but Harry doesn't think she's flirting with him. "I have connections."

Harry can't resist, and he's curious to know if she'd get the joke. "I knew there was a conspiracy."

She laughs again, unlocking the door with a key she seemed to produce from thin air. She disappears into the room, but leaves the door open behind her. "Yup," she says, her voice drifting from the crowded room. "All us bookshop owners get together and plot world domination. It's a very clever scheme, too. No one's realized we run the world yet."

She reappears with a stack of books and he suddenly wants to know who she is. She's bright and clever and laughs and it's been so long since he'd spoken to someone so innocent and untouched by darkness and war.

"I knew it," he says, grinning. "There had to be some reason why you are the only shop in the city that has any of these books."

"No, I'm just awesome. You can't go around spilling our secrets, though. I'll have to have you killed."

"You have assassins?"

"Oh, yes," she says solemnly. "They kill by papercut. It's quite a terrible way to die, actually." The girl lets him take the books from her arms, blushing slightly and looking at him as if she's surprised he did it. "I'll ring you up at the till."

She wraps and bags the books for him, chatting about the weather and some new book or movie (he can't be sure which) that came out the past week. She actually seems to be interested in knowing what he thinks, even if he hasn't had time to do anything recreational and has nothing to contribute to the conversation, and it's nice.

"Anyways," she says as she gives him his change, "if you like I can ring my guy and see if she has any of these books right now—that is, if you're willing to wait a moment—or you can leave your number and I can call if I find anything."

Harry has nowhere to go now that he's found Hermione's books, so he says, "I can wait," with a somewhat goofy smile. He's not sure if he should come back, anyway. This place seems safe and loved and he doesn't want to ruin it. He doesn't want to ruin her.

"You're ridiculous, Jenn," she says into the phone, laughing again. She seems so happy and Harry realizes he doesn't want to leave yet. "I've a customer waiting. Yeah, I'll call you later. Bye."

She smiles at Harry again. "She can get them all for you in about three days, maybe four. I can call when they're here if you want me to order them."

He doesn't have a mobile, although he's been meaning to get one. It was required by Kingsley for when they had to work with Muggles, but it seemed like a bad idea to introduce Malfoy to the device. Nothing short of a written order from the man himself (Shacklebolt, that is) would force Harry to give Draco bloody Malfoy a Muggle mobile.

"I can check in," he says before he realizes that he's decided to come back, consequences be damned. "I don't have a mobile right now, so ringing me up might be difficult. Three days, you said?"

"It might be safer just to wait until the fourth day." She gives Harry a conspiratorial grin. "Sometimes my supplier takes a little longer than she expects. You know how world domination is."

Harry can't help but grin back. "Alright then. Four days." He pauses after he picks up the books. "I have one request, though." She tilts her head curiously, brown eyes wide and honest. "What's your name?"

She giggles this time. "Oh, I'm a terrible salesperson," she says around the laughter. "My name's Bridget. Bridget Griffins."

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Griffins."

"Dear Lord, no. Please, just Bridget. I'll start thinking I'm in trouble if you call me by my surname." She's still smiling at him even though Harry feels like he's made some huge misstep. She blushes slightly, cheeks flushing pink in the light, but continues to speak. "Are you going to tell me your name?"

Harry hesitates. She'd recognize his name— anyone living in the Muggle world would, but especially a bookstore clerk—and he needs something he'll answer to. Bugger.

"Next time," he says, feeling sheepish. Hopefully, she won't get offended. "Three days."

"Four days would…" He watches as she realizes what he's implied. "Alright then," she replies softly, now bright pink in a definitely pleased way. "Until next time."

Author's Notes: Oh, blast, I hate these things. I can never think of things to write, especially for one-shots. Anyway, I do hope you enjoyed that and that it met up to whatever you imagined (if you happened to imagine something). Please review if you read it; I'd like to know what was liked and what wasn't.

Gumi's Notes: So here's a bit of a challenge for you guys. Come up with theories on why Draco and Harry have been arrested so many times. We can make it a bit of a contest, if you like. Whoever suggests something we use gets to make a little appearance in the fic of choice, or one-shot of choice.

And yes, Bridget did mean guy; she's very gender-neutral about those sorts of words. xD Anyway. Until next time, dear readers.