A/N: This story has been swimming in my head for a few days now, and I just had the opportunity to write it. Enjoy.
The bell rang as he entered. She knew that he would come. He always did. Every weekend, an hour before closing time, he would enter her bookstore, look around, get a book, sit at the most private sitting area on the third floor for a few minutes, get up, and then pay for the book. And he did the very same thing, every time.
She put down the stack of pocketbooks she was storing on the shelf, and unconsciously checked herself on the mirror. She stopped when she realized what she was doing.
He was mysterious, and she was curious. His wardrobes differ whenever he came by. At one time, he was wearing a crisp suit, like he just went to a funeral. Though admittedly, she thought, he was very dashing.
There were still plenty of people in the store despite the time. The Book Nook was located in a small area in Middletown, New York. It was love at first sight for her when she saw the building. It was part of the old city complex, and it was about to be condemned. But she used all her resources to buy the place to make it into her very own bookstore. Although it is just a few years old, it housed a wide selection of books. It was cozy, or as some would say homey with its comfy sofas, and brick walls. This invited people, young and old, to occasionally look into the bookstore, some of which were regulars, just like this mystery fellow.
She approached him quietly, intending not to disturb him, but then she chuckled.
"'Twilight'?" she said, reading the cover of the book he was reading.
He stiffened and looked up, startled. "Pardon?"
She saw a flicker of… she couldn't put a word to it. A second later it disappeared. She cleared her throat and pointed at the book.
"The book you're holding, 'Twilight'," she said.
He flipped the cover of the book and saw that it was indeed the title. "Well, yes." His accent was thick, she noticed.
"Well, you don't come off at me as an adolescent girl," she snickered.
He gave her a half grin that nearly buckled her knees. "I think of Bella and Edward's relationship as adult-worthy."
She mentally shook her head. "I think I agree to that one, though I secretly like Bella and Jacob together. I think Edward's over rated. But I think a lot of people will hurt me for saying that," she smiled conspiringly, as she regained her composure. "But I believe in true love, and I guess Bella and Edward has that. In the real world, that's hard to find, right?"
He was quiet for a moment. "Guess I'm not the only adolescent girl here, yeah?" He gave her a small smile, "and my niece loves this series so…might as well see what the fuss is about, right?"
"Of course," she smiled. "I'm Jean." She was surprised that she could easily introduce herself to him. Her parents told her that before the accident, she was a bubbly little girl. She was very intellectual, and they used to say that there wasn't a word or a book she didn't like. She loved talking to adults who offered her new and exciting tidbits about life. But now, when she barely remembers anything before five years ago, she had a hard time expressing herself.
"I'm James," he said timidly.
"So," she said, leaning on the bookshelf beside her. "I can't help but notice that you're British." What am I doing? She thought.
"Good powers of observation," he offered her a smile. "Yes, I'm very British. I live in London."
She quirked her eyebrow. "But you come here every weekend. That must be a long trip," she stated, her curiosity building.
He looked at her for a second, and then laughed. "No, I meant, I lived in London. I live in the Manhattan."
"That's still far away though," she said, crossing her arms.
"I come here to relax."
"It is a quiet place, and very suburban, you know," she thought out loud.
"Exactly." He said, looking smug.
At that, she smiled at him. "So, what do you do for a living?"
"Well, I'm into a little bit of this and that."
"Unemployed?"
"Do you always talk to your customers like this? First, I'm a little girl, now I'm an unemployed British chap who happens to come here every weekend." He gave her teasing smile.
She blushed. "I'm sorry. It's just that I'm curious."
"No, it's okay. I'm a businessman. I handle different kinds of industries." He smiled.
"You could've said that earlier." She whispered, looking away.
He laughed. "What about you? How long have you been working here?"
"I check in as much as I can, but I stay on the weekends."
He tilted his head to the side, waiting for her to explain.
"I work in the hospital." She simply said.
"And your boss isn't mad about that?" he started. She was about to answer but she was interrupted by her assistant Ben.
"Sorry to bother you guys, but Jean, is it okay if I go? My folks are in town and you know the story." Ben's face gave a mock scowl.
"Sure Ben, We'll close in a few minutes anyway." She smiled at him.
"Thanks, you're the best boss ever! Oh, by the way, that Paul guy called again…" he grinned at her. "Anyway, I have to go. Thanks so much, Jean!" he waved at them as he went on his way.
She looked back at James, and saw a different flash in his eyes… like jealousy? She wasn't sure. And just like before, a second later, it was gone.
He looked back at her again. "So you're the boss." He stated. Although he looked surprised, she had a feeling that he knew that already.
"Yeah," she said, blushing.
"Doctor?" he asked.
"Pretty much." She blushed again.
"Wow. A doctor business-owner. That's a nice combination." He smiled.
"It's nice, actually. I work in Pediatrics, so I'm on appointments. They can call me if there was an emergency. But I like spending time here as much as I like being around kids."
I know. She didn't know if she imagined him saying that. Lately she'd have these weird "episodes"… but she didn't want to think about them now.
"Hey, I'm sorry to cut our conversation short. But it is closing time…" she said, pointing at her watch. She looked around the store and they were the only ones in the third floor.
They went down to the first floor in silence. She couldn't explain it, but she feels something towards him. It was very different, like a gravitational pull.
A want, a need to be around him.
He stopped in front of her, and she could feel his hesitation in leaving. Her stomach gave a slight twist.
"It was nice talking to you," she said, starting to feel awkward.
"Yes, it was very nice." He quipped.
"It was nice meeting you, James." She held out her hand. She looked at him again, and the hesitation was clearly there. After a tense moment, he gently squeezed her hand.
She had to physically restrain herself from jumping back a few steps. The electricity that went from his hand traveled up her arms and spread throughout her body.
And that was just from one touch.
She was vaguely aware that his hand left hers a moment later, and then he was gone. She realized she was frozen in her spot, and her heart was pounding its way out of her chest. What the hell was that?
He turned into a dark corner as fast as he could and brought out his wand. He was panting when he appeared in his flat. He went to the couch and flopped himself on to it. He covered his eyes with his hands, and he knew she would speak up soon.
"Why do you always go there, Harry?" They both knew it was a rhetorical question.
"Are there any reports?" he said distractedly.
She gave a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, we didn't find anyone. However, they did stay there. They're investigating the area as we speak."
He gave a low growl.
After a few minutes, she spoke. "So, what happened?"
"She talked to me today." He said quietly, still not moving from his position. He felt her hand on his shoulder.
"She did?" she asked somberly.
"Yeah, she's still feisty," she could hear his smile as he said that. "She asked a lot of things. Talked a bit about her job too."
"Which you already know of," she said.
He just nodded. At that, she sat down next to him sighed. "Harry…"
"I miss her so much." He whispered.
"I know Harry. But you have to remember you put her there for her safety. She's in America for crying out loud. She's safe. People are watching over her."
"You know I have to see her."
"It wasn't your fault, Harry." she sighed again. They had been through this before, but she knew Harry would never accept that.
"Ginny, if it wasn't for me, she'd be here. She'd have a happy life. Living her life. She would be successful as a healer, or a teacher, or a bloody librarian, if she wanted to. She'd be Hermione Granger." He said, tears building up in his eyes. "I should've stayed away from her. I shouldn't have been her friend."
At that, Ginny stood up, seething. "If you wouldn't have been her friend, do you think she would be happy? Would she be herself? Would she be as brave or as compassionate if she hadn't met you? Do you honestly think that?" she shouted. "Would she know love? Would she know the love that both of you shared? Would she even be alive?"
"Stop it!" He barked. "Stop it, Ginny!"
"It wasn't your fault, Harry!" she yelled. "It was those bloody death eaters' fault. Not yours! They were the ones who attacked her. They were the ones who did this to her, not you!"
They stared at each other, both breathless. Their anger was palpable.
Harry was the first one to look away. "I'm sorry, Ginny" he said quietly.
"She was my best friend too, Harry. I know this is a thousand times harder for you, but you should know that none of this is your fault. And we both know that even after five years, you can't let go of her. We'll find them, and we will have justice." She looked straight into his eyes. "So I say go to her."
His eyes widened. "What?"
"Bring her back, Harry. Fight this, together. Hiding won't do anything. She has to know the truth."
"You know I can't do that. I promised myself I'd never do that."
"And you also promised yourself that you wouldn't see her. You promised you wouldn't meddle in her life. You promised you wouldn't talk to her." She insisted.
"Ginny…" Harry sighed.
"Just think about it, Harry. I saw the way she looked at you before you left. Even if her brilliant brain doesn't remember anything, her heart surely still remembers." With that, Ginny gave him a hug and left him alone in his flat.
He stood rooted in his place. Could he really do that? Could he really risk Hermione's life once more?
He looked out the window and wondered what she could be doing at that moment. She was probably already as asleep after a hard day at the hospital and the bookstore. Homer would surely be fast asleep cuddled next to her.
He smiled a small smile. Homer was the only other male allowed to sleep beside her. Homer used to sleep in their room a few years back, with his golden brown fur all over the carpet. Harry loved the dog with all his heart and it somewhat lifted his spirits knowing that he was there protecting her, aside from the wizards assigned to look out for her.
He could see that the sun was starting to peek from the horizon, and his thoughts drifted back to Hermione. She was—is his life. Did he really think he could live without her? Two days after he promised himself he wouldn't see her, and wouldn't be in her life again, he was standing a few feet away from her bed. She was just released from the hospital a few days ago—when he made his promise.
Right then and there, even if he refused to admit it, he knew that he couldn't do any of this. He needed her. He loved her. He still loves her.
A/N: This is a one-shot, or so I intend it to be. And as for Ginny, even though I do not like her—even for a little bit in the books—I love it when she's a good friend to both Harry and Hermione.
Anyway, I'll leave everything to your imagination.