I'm experimenting. Don't mind me.
Disclaimer: This is a disclaimer.
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Drunk and tired, Hermione Granger staggered home.
Home.
Her rent was due in a week, there was a stack of bills to pay and she still owed Ginny Galleons.
How Hermione had become like this, she didn't know.
Hermione had graduated from Howarts years ago, top of the class. She had been successful in all her jobs, Healer, Auror, working in the ministry. She had tried all and had excelled all.
Excelled too much to the point of boredom.
Now, Hermione had a low paying thrilling job that caused her to stumble into her home drunk everyday. She was now head of the Department of Mysteries. It was a job that she never got tired of; day after day, she would take on a new adventure. Sadly, it gave her barely enough to make it through every month and Hermione had to cut back tremendously.
Today, Hermione was beyond drunk. It had been a bad horrible sickening day.
"Miss Granger, Ms. Weasley is here to see you..." Hermione's secretary, Brenda informed as she peeked into the office of "Miss Granger." Brenda was a girl that Hermione hated and glared at every second and Brenda knew it. Hermione hated her with every ounce of gut she had. She had shiny yellow hair that was curled just right above her slender smooth shoulders. Her eyes were large, blue, and captivating with her small dainty nose and light pink lips that were as soft as… god knows what. She had a slender body and sophisticated clothes that didn't show too much to make her a slut but showed enough to boast about her figures. It must be jealousy but Hermione liked to say that it was Brenda's innocent and sweet attitude.
Brenda saw every glare that Hermione foisted upon her. She was scared of her.
Despite her hate for Brenda, Hermione was never able to fire her. She was a fast worker and thinker. She was honest and hard working. She was organized and, although Hermione couldn't admit, the perfect secretary.
"Well, tell her to come in." Hermione said rather coldly.
Just a few seconds later, Ginny burst in, her face flushed and with a small frown on her face.
"All right, Hermione. What's the problem? You've been borrowing a great amount of money from me ever month and I haven't got even a knut back! I have bills to pay too! And you're worrying Harry and Ron.
Hermione sighed. "You told Harry and Ron? You didn't have to do that did you?"
"Yes I did. Ron because he's my brother and he should know where my money goes and Harry because it's HIS money that I'm giving to you. Harry and I have to start saving up money for our house when we get married. Either you get yourself straight or we have to stop giving you money now."
Hermione looked at Ginny pleadingly. "Ginny… please. I really need this."
"I know, and I'm sorry but I've been putting you before me for too long and it's giving Harry and me a lot of trouble. Can't you find another job or something?" Ginny sat down in front of Hermione.
"No. I love this job, Ginny. It's my dream. It's fun, exciting, adventurous… I just can't leave. Please, Ginny. I'll do anything; don't cut everything off now…"
Ginny got teary eyed. "I'm… I'm sorry Hermione… I can't…"
There were a few minutes of silence.
"Okay." Hermione said in a barely audible voice.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. We'll help you through it, just not financially."
"No… no, it's fine. I can handle myself, thank you." There was a tint of anger in her voice. She should really learn to calm herself one day…
"Hermione…"
"I believe this meeting is over. Have a nice day, Ginny."
"Hermione… please…"
Hermione stood up and opened the door. "Thank you for coming. Good bye." Hermione waited. Finally, Ginny got up and rushed out the door, her face in her hands sobbing.
Hermione felt bad.
But that was life.
Hermione stuck her key in the lock and slammed her door behind her. The first soft thing that she touched, she fell on in and fell asleep.
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Saturdays. By golly did Hermione love Saturdays. The Ministry opened late on Saturdays. So Hermione slept until nine… ten… sometimes eleven.
However, today, Hermione woke up at seven.
With a hot steaming mug of coffee sitting next to her on her kitchen table, Hermione was surrounded by papers wadded up or clean. She had been brainstorming ways to make money.
1. Get a part time job somewhere in the weekends.
That was out of question Hermione would be way too tired. Besides, she would only have Saturday morning and night and Sundays.
2. Invent something and sell it.
No thank you. Dealing with the new conflicts that she came across everyday was enough.
3. Get married…
Hermione had actually thought on that one. She could marry someone with money. They didn't have to have too much; just enough. Hermione wouldn't make a bad wife either. She wasn't ugly or stupid or anything.
But who to marry was the big question that Hermione didn't have the answer to.
4. Borrow money.
As soon as that idea hit the paper, she crossed it out. She had just experienced how that went.
5. Go back to living with Mom and Dad.
That soon went away too. Hermione was a 26 year old woman with potential. She did not have to be the ugly old woman living with her parents until she died of being a stupid virgin.
Hermione was pretty in a way. Her wispy brown hair stopped a few inches below her sexy shoulders. Her chocolate eyes accented on the creamy texture of her baby soft skin. She had a perfectly symmetrical nose; not too pointy but not too piggy. She had gone through many men in her past, but obviously, none had worked out very well. Her friends would wonder why she never got a decent man and would come to the conclusion that she was hidden under dark bags under her eyes and her tired hangover look on her face everyday.
Hermione began to feel more and more hopeless.
She had all sorts of crazy ideas; work at bars, be a stripper, be a whore, steal money, win the lottery.
Then, there were the ideas that seemed efficient… five years ago: write a book, live in the Order's Headquarters, Go back to Hogwarts and beg Dumbledore to let her stay there, commit suicide and so on and so forth.
Hermoine threw her quill across the room. Ink smeared on the wall of her pride and glory. Her house.
Hermione had found it.
She had found the house unwanted and unused on the streets of London near the Ministry. There was a "For Sale" sign on it that looked as if it would fall off any second.
It was beautiful. There was a lawn filled with dying yellow grass and flies swarming over it to get the whiff of dog crap. The windows were broken… or more like gone. The door was cracked into two. The walls were breaking and fragile as paper. There were no lights and no working sink. Spider webs hovered over every one of the four small and pungent bedrooms.
Hermione fell in love. She called up the man on the "For Sale" sign and bought the house for just a few hundred pounds.
In a month, Hermione had magically, literally, transformed her house. There were roses and tulips on her flower bed with healthy green grass sprawled over her front lawn. Her door was fixed and opening and closing just as new. She had wide sparkling clean windows and colorful wallpaper that she had picked out carefully. In just a few weeks, her home was her power and joy, the only reason for existence.
And so, as Hermione took her stroll along memory lane, an idea hummed in her head and everything clicked together like a puzzle.
House.
Four Bedrooms.
One person.
Money.
Rent.
House…
House…
Jumping off her chair, Hermione screamed… with delight.
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"GOOD MORNING BRENDA!" Hermione cried as she entered her department. Brenda looked up, confused and smiling nervously.
"G-good morning."
"How is your day? Fine? Good!" Hermione smiled sweetly. "I love the outfit! It really brings out the color of your gorgeous eyes. Mmm- lovely." Hermione grinned widely as she entered her office.
"HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL OFFICE! YOU'RE LOOKING MIGHTY FINE TODAY!" Hermione spoke to her empty room.
"What's wrong with her?" John Pickle asked Brenda.
Brenda shrugged. "No idea. I think she just yelled good morning to the whole city and complimented my outfit." She shrugged again. "I think she's on something."
"ALL RIGHT ALL RIGHT EVERYONE! LET'S GET STARTED! OH BRENDA… YOU LOOK SO MIGHTY DASHING TODAY." Hermione exclaimed to Brenda. "Wait! I have something for y'all! Wait right here and I'll be back in a jiffy!" Hermione ran back into her room as her workers mumbled ferociously. They finally came to a conclusion set forth by John.
"I bet she got laid."
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The following morning, there was a small ad on the paper along with the usual Zonko, Three Broomsticks, Ollivanders and etc.
Looking for a place to stay?
Well, here's your chance! Room available on Fifth Street in London, only a few blocks away from the Ministry itself! There will be two rooms provided in the magnificent and grand four bedroom house! So take this offer of a lifetime and contact Hermione Granger at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic!
Hermione tapped her quill restlessly on her desk.
There had been no visitors so far this morning. Just a knock… any knock would have gotten Hermione off this chair but there was no such knock.
Hermione sighed. It had cost Hermione the last bit of her borrowed money from Ginny to pay for that ad and it had become quite a disappointment.
There was laughing outside. She could hear Brenda's giggling clearly.
'Stupid bitch.' Hermione thought crankily. 'Having the time of her life while I'm stuck in here waiting for my future roommate to come.' Hermione moved her foot to go scream at her but she stopped. She knew it was mean and stupid and she shouldn't do that. She'll have to wait until the end of the day, and if she was still in that rotten mood, she would let it all out then.
There was still that deep voice and more giggle and chattering.
Hermione's tapping grew louder and faster.
The noises outside grew faint and Hermione heard the door swing open and creak close again.
Hermione would usually never allow an employee to leave in the middle of the day but Hermione just couldn't leave the chair.
Time ticked by.
No roommate.
After what seemed like eternity, the clock struck to the Roman numeral VI and Hermione grabbed her purse and kicked her door open. The place was nearly deserted except for a few early night shifters.
"What are you looking at? It's not the first time you've seen me, is it?"
Immediately, the heads turned back into their work.
Smirking slightly, Hermione passed Brenda's desk, mentally making a note to talk her off the next day for leaving.
Hermione apparated to Three Broomsticks like usual.
"Hello Madame Rosmerta. I'll like my usual please."
"Two fire whiskeys coming right up, Miss Granger. You know, you should really stop drinking so much everyday. It's not the best thing for you."
Hermione grimaced. "Tough day today."
Madame Rosmerta sighed and silently muttered "Like everyday." And scurried off to another important customer. Hermione swore to herself and glared at Madame Rosmerta when she delivered her fire whiskey.
Bottle after bottle, Hermione chugged down her whiskey until she was too drunk to open her eyes.
"Miss Granger- we're closing."
"Do I give a fuck?"
"Miss Granger, please."
"Leave me alone god damn it!"
"Miss…"
"I'm going I'm going! Gosh woman! Where's you're patience? Jeez…" Hermione grabbed her purse and zigzagged out.
She reached her home once more. Following her same routine as everyday, she jammed her key into the door and shut it behind her.
As soon as she entered her house, she bumped into a wall, causing her to stumble back.
"AHH! WHEN DID THIS DUMBASS WALL GET HERE?" Hermione shrieked as she smacked her purse on it.
It yelped and fell down.
Hermione's wall moved.
She felt her eyes growing wider.
"Holy crap, Granger! What the hell was that?"
Her wall could talk. And her wall knew her!
The wall groaned. She could have sworn she saw the hair.
Hermione brought the wall up to her eye level and looked at it closely.
It wasn't a wall.
It was a person.
It wasn't any person.
It was Draco Malfoy.
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I know I shouldn't start on new stories but I couldn't help it. It started out as a stupid little fic about Hermione being raped everyday by her boss and Draco coming to the rescue and yada doo and yada dee. But I changed it. I hope you enjoyed! This was the most unexpected story ever. Anyways… please give me some feedback. Before I start a story, I never know if it's going to be going up or down. It might end up with like fifty reviews or zero. I'll never know.
Toodles!
Youngwriter 56