Hermione glanced at the piece of paper in her hand, then back up at the building across the street.
"This can't be right," she muttered to herself, frowning as she crumpled the note deep into the pocket of her wool coat.
The wind howled, washing her in a spray of cold London rain. She shivered and pulled her collar close as she surveyed the run-down sandwich shop. It was set, rather crudely, she thought, into the bottom level of a decaying brownstone that otherwise would have shown some potential. But there was no way this was where the Ministry had intended for her to live during her placement. She had imagined they would set her up somewhere a bit more posh, perhaps in a better part of the city. The rain began to come down in sheets, and for a brief moment she considered heading to her childhood home instead.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind that she was filled with ache and longing. Of course she couldn't visit her parents; they had no idea who she was. Her spell, like all her spells, had been quite effective. Her eyes brimmed with tears at the thought of them, then overflowed at the thought of Ron and Rose. She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled a quick gasp of air. She couldn't do this again. The decision had been made and she had let them all go. They didn't remember her now, so there was no point in crying over them. She tilted her head to the sky and let the rain wash away her tears before grabbing her bag and sloshing her way across the street.
Once on the sidewalk, a stranger darted across her path. He was a tall man who seemed to be heading to the unit next to hers in a rush to get out of the rain. He didn't even glance at her as he strode by, eagerly pulling a set of keys from his pocket. There was an amulet tangled up in them that clattered to the ground.
A dark red disk of sorts, glowing from within and threaded with gold. About the size of a bottle cap. She recognized it immediately.
"Excuse me, sir," she yelled over the rain.
He ignored her as he fumbled to get his key in the lock.
"Sir," she repeated, stooping down to pick up the talisman "You dropped this…"
His head snapped up, suddenly allowing himself to be aware of her presence. Icy eyes above razor sharp cheekbones tore into her, and she felt her cheeks flush at the thought of how bedraggled she must look.
In one deft movement he closed the space between them and snatched the stone from her outstretched hand. This tall dark stranger with his hawk-like tendencies was easy on the eyes but not good with first impressions.
He looked down at her bags, then to the key in her hand.
"You're moving in here," he breathed matter-of-factly, and her heart fluttered.
"I am. And you, I suppose, are my new neighbor? Wonderful to make your acquaintance. My name is Hermione Wea…" she paused to clear her throat, "Granger. Hermione Granger."
Her scowls at her and continues to peer at her with those ethereal eyes as the rain comes down around them.
"Pleasure," he muttered, before abruptly turning and heading inside. Slamming the door shut behind him without looking back, he leaves her stunned with her hand still outstretched.
"OK then," she thought to herself. It was probably for the best that she didn't get too chummy with the locals anyway. She did, after all, have some serious work to do. The Ministry had agreed to her transfer on heavy assignment conditions, but they weren't aware how badly she had needed to escape the world she had adopted as her new home. They had merely assumed the Muggle missed her Muggle world, and off she went.
The green paint on the door was weathered and peeling, but the locks seemed new. The key that had been assigned to her slid in easily, and she entered into her new home.
It may be a little run down, but perhaps life at 221C Baker Street wouldn't be so bad after all.