September 2001
Hermione jammed her key into the old lock on the wooden backdoor of her shop and forcefully barreled her way into the back room. She huffed slightly as she moved a box full of the latest book shipment out of the way. She pulled off her mustard yellow scarf and set it on the old mahogany counter as she made her way to the windows. As soon as she had yanked on the old tether, the wooden blinds had flung themselves to the top of the window and the bright morning light had cascaded into the room. It really was a beautiful sight; a bookshop in the fall.
Another barreling down of the door in the back signalled the arrival of Hannah Abbot, on time as always. Hannah had been with Hermione at the shop since the beginning and was a fantastic worker, but now she was really just doing what she had to in order to raise the money necessary to buy The Three Broomsticks from Madam Rosmerta. Hannah wanted to own her own business and be her own boss. She also wanted to be closer to Neville, her fiance, who worked as the Herbology Professor at Hogwarts and she was very close to achieving her goal. Madam Rosmerta was ready to retire and although she had been made many offers on the place, she wanted it to go to Hannah and was willing to wait for her to raise the money.
"Morning 'Mione!" She hollered from the back room as she put away her coat.
"Morning Hannah!" Hermione answered as she started shelving a handful of books that had been tucked away behind the counter and Hannah entered the room, "How was your evening?"
Hannah sighed, "Not awful but certainly not splendid, I swear I'm going to kill my landlord if he raises the rent again before I can pay off Rosmerta. The wanker went off gambling last weekend and thought raising the rent would be a perfectly rational way to restore what he lost. I was enraged-" "And rightfully so" Hermione interjected, "thanks, but anyways I made my way down to his office and was fully prepared to hex his bits off until I realized how unproductive that would be."
"I think you made the right call, he would have just charged you extra for his bits had you gone through with it." She said with a chuckle, "Besides your not far from paying her, right?"
"No not at all, I've only got about 16 galleons left"
"Oh your next few paychecks ought to cover that!"
"I'm well aware. What are you guys going to do without me?"
"Well I'm sure Colin and I will find someone to cover the work, but I don't think it will be that much more difficult having two people reshelve books and work the cashier rather than three. Don't worry about us, we'll get along just fine." Hermione gave Hannah a comforting look as the poor girl's face was drenched in guilt.
"I know, I know," She said as she finally cracked a smile, "Where is Colin anyways?"
"Have you ever known him to be on time?"
"No, but I am surprised someone like you isn't more annoyed with his perpetual tardiness."
"I lightened up after the War, you all know that." Hermione began as she made her way to the back room to collect another box full of books, Hannah in tow, "I don't want to waste my time being angry over little things, I'd rather not burden myself with unnecessary stress. It takes its toll after a while."
Hannah seemed a bit squelched in silence at her response. "I admire you for that, Hermione, I really do."
The back door lurched open once more and Colin Creevey made his way into the shop. He looked rather off kilter, as he always did in the morning, and ruggedly handsome as the girls had deemed him. Hermione and Hannah had spent quite a lot of time devoted to the subject of Colin and his shockingly good looks, and after hours of debate they had settled on the conclusion that Colin was surprisingly, devastatingly handsome; much to his own oblivion. Colin was a very carefree and rather naive guy with an insatiable love for learning, much like Hermione's, and a proclivity for very dry, witty, one-liners. He had sandy blonde hair, a chiseled jaw, a lean build, and bright eyes. He dressed in oxfords and jumpers and wore tortoise shell glasses which often sat atop his head. He made almost every girl that walked in the shop swoon.
"Well speak of the devil, he's finally arrived." Hannah said as she and Hermione shared a small chuckle.
"Morning ladies, did you miss me?" Colin said in his usual droll as he hung his coat and scarf.
"About as much as I miss the Ministry." Hermione said in mock annoyance.
"That stings 'Mione, it truly does." Colin teased, "So how's the new shipment looking?"
"Just as good as the last I'm afraid, this one's restock, sadly nothing new." Hermione said as she examined the spine of a slightly damaged book on the wonders of North American wisteria in healing potions. Some restock books truly did puzzle her.
Colin had since checked his wrist for the time and had made his way to the front door to turn the small sign from 'CLOSED' to 'OPEN'.
The clock hit 7 and Hermione had just finished ringing up the last customer of the day. With a small smile she closed and locked the door behind the middle aged woman who made her way down the barren cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley.
"And that's a wrap," Colin said as he lifted his arms in victory on his way to the coatrack, "I will see you ladies promptly tomorrow morning for another satisfying day of work." He shot them a wry smile as he flung his navy blue scarf around his neck and tipped his nonexistent hat to them as he made his way out the door.
Hannah smiled though her brow was rather questioning and turned to Hermione, "Well, I will see you tomorrow, much more promptly than Colin will, I might add." She smirked and lazily made her way to the back to pull her coat on. "Have a nice night!" She said as she simultaneously pulled her left arm through the sleeve and backed her way out of the stubborn wooden door. Hermione smiled and waved in farewell.
Hermione finished her locking-up process and then finally pulled her coat on to make her way out the door, "Nox" she whispered, and the lights went out. She idly made her way down the street to the apparition point, thinking warmly about Ron waiting for her at home. He would have gotten off his regular shift at 6, unless there was some sort of emergency that had to be dealt with, in that case who knows when he would make his way home. She passed the street limit and rounded the corner, disappearing in a swirl of air and a loud cracking sound.
She reappeared in a quiet back alley that was tucked away in the middle of a practically abandoned side street, not too far from the train station that took many muggles from their area to work every morning and brought them home in a timely fashion, half past 5 every evening.
Hermione started off on her two block walk home to her flat after checking the area to make sure she didn't pop out of nowhere looking suspicious.
She arrived at her flat, No. 17 Wesley Avenue, at 7:43 to the sight of Ron Weasley attempting, and utterly failing, to make tea on the muggle stove that was very foreign to him.
"Ron, what on earth are you doing?"
" 'Mione you're home! I didn't even hear you come in, I've been so focused on this bloody thing, I can't ever remember how to work it." He was drawn back into his endeavor with a quizzical brow and pursed lips, Hermione chuckled at his determination while removing her coat and gently pushing him to the side as she placed the kettle on the correct burner and demonstrated the correct way to light the flame on the old gas stove. Her flat was in a smaller suburban area right outside of London and the building she lived in was rather old, but she loved it. It had charm and character. She was a sucker for charm and character.
She instructed Ron to pull down some cups from the cabinet and she poured the tea as they took their seats at her small kitchen table.
"How was your day, love?" Ron asked. Ron was not always the greatest at being inquisitive but he had been trying much harder lately after Hermione lit into him one day for not caring. He seemed somewhat terrified after that, but now he was good at asking her about her day when she got home so she didn't regret her actions in the slightest.
"Rather dull; Mrs. Ferrigan, that horrid old woman with the temper, made her way in today and was rather snippy with Colin about subpar service. Colin didn't appreciate it to say the least and had her out of the store in about a minute flat, that was the only even relatively exciting thing that happened."
"Sounds lovely" Ron grimaced as he looked into his teacup. "How's Hannah doing, by the way? I heard she's close to owning The Three Broomsticks."
"Very close, I think her next two paychecks should cover the rest of it, which is very exciting. I'm sad to see her go of course but I'll still see her often."
"Of course you will, we make our way to the Three Broomsticks often enough and you two are close, it's not the end of your friendship."
"True, very true." Hermione sat back in her chair. She adored Hannah and they had grown rather close being at the shop together but she was happy to see her pursuing something she wanted. "Anyways, how was your day?"
"We had a new case come in, not incredibly exciting but not too dull. There was an assault outside Hogsmeade involving quite a few curses and one of the Zonkos workers witnessed the whole thing, they didn't see it clearly enough to identify a suspect's face right off the bat, but it's a reliable lead. I think it'll be wrapped up within the week."
"That's great, Ron." Hermione smiled faintly as she raised her teacup to her lips.
They talked for about half hour before Hermione realized she was starving. Ron said he was exhausted and they said goodnight as he made his way to the bedroom. Hermione pulled some ingredients for a sandwich out of the fridge and waited until she heard Ron snoring soundly in the other room. She glanced around the corner to make sure the bedroom door was closed before stepping away from her half-made sandwich and making her way quietly through the living room and into the small nook by the windows that housed her rolltop desk. She cast a quick Silencing charm before lifting the very squeaky cover. She pulled out a letter that had been stuffed in one of the drawers before she had left for work. She hadn't had the chance to read it before leaving that morning so she flicked on the small lamp above her and smiled as she unfolded the paper.
Dear Stranger,
I stayed up rather late tonight thinking about what I wanted to write you. I threw away at least four letters before this one. I've realized trying to impress you without giving up my identity is a lot more difficult than I originally bargained. You'd think it would be easier after five months of this but it certainly isn't. I can't talk about my job, or what school I went to, or who I'm friends with, or where I live. Then I got to thinking that if those are the things I think make me interesting, I am a sordid disappointment to myself and most likely others. I'm going to try to come up with some things that might intrigue you into infatuation as you have done so for me in previous letters, so here goes. I love reading. (That was all I could think of. But to some that's interesting and I'm hoping you are a part of that some.) I recently became ingrained in the works of a Muggle author, which surprised me greatly. His name is William Shakespeare, have you ever heard of him? He's quite an old chap but you seem like the educated type so I'm going to hope for the best. Who knows he could be your favorite. Anyways, I just finished reading Macbeth, a bit dark for my taste (which would shock anyone who knows me, I'm usually a fan of grim reads) and I wasn't a fan of his representation of witches, but other than that it was fine. My favorite so far is Hamlet, another grim one but at least it had redeeming qualities. I'm thinking of starting one of his comedies next. Do you happen to have any recommendations for me (Shakespeare or otherwise)?
Until we write again,
Your Stranger
Hermione was positively beaming by the end. She loved Shakespeare and Hamlet was probably her favorite too now that she thought about it. She did love Much Ado About Nothing. It was hard to decide. Nonetheless, she grabbed some parchment and a quill and began her response.
The letters had started about 5 months ago. After Hermione had put in a for a new pen pal through a Ministry program that was created to help wizards and witches struggling to find happiness after the War. Hermione wasn't unhappy per se, but she was seriously struggling to recuperate. She had started a Ministry job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures after she finished her 7th year at Hogwarts and had worked there for about a year before she realized that it was not where she wanted to be. She of course had a passion for the rights of house-elves and continued to fight for their rights whenever and however she could, but the Ministry was just too hard on her. She was constantly hounded by purebloods for forcing them to give up their servants, the Ministry itself had no respect for her cause, and the sheer force of will it took to keep herself going throughout the day was starting to take its toll on her. So she quit.
During the War, Diagon Alley had completely shut down. Most of the shop owners were too worn out after the War to return, and sadly, some had been killed. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was the only shop that had remained open from the time before the War.
Hermione had jumped on the chance to buy the old Flourish and Blotts building. She had been walking through one day on her way to meet Ron at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes when she glanced forlornly at what used to be her favorite shop. She spotted a sign in the window that read "For Sale by Owner", and on a crazy impulse she pulled a pen and paper from her bag and put her name down as a potential buyer, slipping it through the slot on the front door.
Three days later, an unfamiliar owl was tapping at her window clutching some rather official looking paperwork. When she had unraveled the ribbon encasing everything, a note from the owner, a man by the name of Phillip Castor, said he was ecstatic that Hermione wanted to buy the shop as he was quite tired of owning it but didn't want to see such a lovely place go to utter waste. He had included the papers of ownership and a purchasing contract. His price was reasonable and he sounded quite desperate to have it under new ownership. Hermione of course, bleeding heart that she was, signed the papers immediately and sent them on their merry way. A week later, the shop was hers.
Not long after, she received a letter from the Ministry saying that they would love to have her as a part of a new program they were trying out, called the Medicinal Mail Initiative, to provide some sort of solace to any wizard or witch who was the least bit distraught after the War and struggling to find the happiness they needed. The whole thing was spearheaded by Susan Bones, an overwhelmingly optimistic former Hufflepuff who worked for a small subgroup of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes which dealt with the aftereffects of the accident and occasional trauma. They were usually a forgotten-about department until Susan came along after the War and decided they needed to do what they could to help those who were suffering from post-traumatic stress and the like.
Hermione joined Medicinal Mail half-heartedly about a month after receiving her invitation. She was matched to some strange girl in the south of Scotland who seemed to be mad all the time and quite annoyed that she was getting mail even though she had to have willingly joined the initiative. Other than her apparently always-there anger and the general area where she was from, Hermione knew practically nothing else about her. She had been instructed upon receiving the welcome pamphlet that she was not to tell her pen pal her name, where exactly she lived (countries and general areas, like the south for example, were allowed), where she worked, where she attended school, or the names of anyone she knew. They told her it was secretive so that pen pals would be inclined to get to know the deeper things about one another while also feeling free to talk about their emotions without the pressure of ever confronting the person. Hermione was quite interested in how it worked with the pairings not knowing each other's names and Susan explained that the Ministry provided the pairings with an owl specifically assigned to them who knew the identities of each pen pal. Susan had thought out the perfect way to allow total strangers to vent about their feelings to each other without feeling bad about it.
For the next six months, Hermione maintained a somewhat steady pen pal relationship with the Scottish girl, until she decided she had had enough of her pen pal's vague vexation. She had contacted Susan and asked her if there was any way she could switch pen pals with someone or somehow get reassigned, but Susan said no every time she asked. Hermione spent the next two months trying to convince her pen pal to drop out of the program, and surprisingly enough she did. Hermione then went immediately to Susan and asked for a new pen pal. Susan exasperatedly pulled a folder out of a stack on her desk and randomly selected a new assignment for Hermione out of the new applicants. She looked at the name, wrote it down, making sure Hermione's back was to her, on her master list of pairings. Hermione, feeling quite satisfied with herself, she made her way home.
The next day she woke up to an owl, the same one she had seen almost everyday for the next five months that followed, tapping at her window with a letter in its claws. She opened her window, quickly unfolded the parchment and read the first of many:
Dear Stranger…
