Chapter 1: Let the Dust Settle
She was over half an hour early to meet Ginny for lunch. Sometimes her compulsive desire to be early meant she did a lot of time wasting while she waited around for things to begin. Usually it was a frustrating cycle but at least she was in Diagon Alley where she could always duck in to Flourish and Blotts for a moment.
As she entered the grand store she took in a compulsory deep breath, soaking in the smell of books and knowledge mingling in the air. She knew that to the uninformed she might look slightly crazed, with bright wide eyes and an overly eager look on her face but this was her environment. The people who frequented the store would probably understand her enthusiasm. She pushed deeper into the store and passed a stand of fine stationary and quills, her heart gave a glad leap.
She debated about where to start, annoyed already by her time constraints. Should she go straight for Magical History or should she start with Potions? Actually, she hadn't read a good book just 'for fun' in such a long time. The thought of picking up some fiction was rather appealing.
"Can I help you there madam? You seem a little overwhelmed by our selection," an amused voice asked from behind.
"Oh, sorry" she said spinning around.
It wasn't a perfect stranger before her as she had assumed it would be. It was Theodore Nott, her old classmate from Hogwarts. She hadn't seen him since before everything… happened.
"Nott!" she couldn't help but reply, in her surprise.
Hermione always remembered Theodore Nott the boy as a scowling, surly looking thing. He had scurried about with his eyes to the ground, never really demanding attention and respect the way some of his Slytherin contemporaries had. He had always been easily overlooked although Hermione had always thought he had a decidedly malevolent air about him. But the man in front of her wasn't a weedy, angry young boy. He hadn't grown into an Adonis certainly, but his mouth was actually stretching into a smile and that smile was directed at her. It made him look almost normal. The surprise nearly knocked her off balance.
"I thought that might have been you Granger, what with the hair."
Her own features quickly assumed a scowl, "Okay Nott, we left school years ago. No need to be nasty."
He put up his hands in a placating gesture and looked genuinely remorseful, "I didn't mean it that way. Sorry. I just meant that you still look like you did back in School, from behind."
Considering quite a few years had passed and Hermione's waist line had gained a few inches she guessed that was sort of a compliment.
"You work here?" she asked.
He shrugged, "Sure, why not."
"I never pictured you working in a bookstore," she mused aloud.
He rolled his eyes, "Well you probably thought I'd prefer to be a dungeon master or baby murderer instead, didn't you?"
Hermione was taken aback, "I didn't say that although you can't really blame me if I did. You barely said a word back in school unless it was some vile insult. I bet you formed your own opinions about me too."
"I'll concede that I found you as hard to be around as you probably found me," he said with a twinkle in his eye that made Hermione unsure as to whether she should be offended or not, "back then at least," he finished.
"I guess we've grown up though?" she asked.
"I guess we have," he replied, again with the smile.
"You can't be all that bad if you like books," Hermione stated.
"Granger, I was a horrible child but I can safely say that it is precisely because of books that I am no longer vile."
She smiled genuinely at that.
"That's a therapy I could really get behind."
He leaned casually against a shelf of magical biographies that all looked rather affronted by his lack of respect.
"I don't have to ask about what you've been up to, I read The Prophet after all."
Hermione sighed, "Yes well, apparently being best friends with Harry Potter turned into a lifetime commitment to answering nosey questions from the media and having ones every career move stalked and scrutinized."
Nott raised an eyebrow, "I think the work you've been doing with Goblins is very interesting, not to mention your work with House Elves."
Hermione exhaled sharply, "Nott, you really surprise me."
He chuckled, "I don't doubt it."
"So what have you been up to?" she asked.
"After everything happened," he said with a look on his face that most people got when that particular segment of the past was mentioned, "I decided to sort myself out. I'd been living under a belief system instilled in me from birth by people who turned out to be cruel and wrong in the eyes of the majority of the population. I decided to stop listening to other people and start figuring it out for myself. So I took off travelling and read a lot of books and now, here I am. It took a while but I'm finally back in the mother country and better for everything that happened. At least, I hope so."
Hermione shook her head in disbelief, "I should say so considering you've just had a five minute conversation with a muggle born. That's quite an evolution of character Nott and all revealed to me in under thirty seconds" Hermione said.
"Sorry about that," he replied although his unabashed manner seemed to betray that in fact he wasn't, "thought I'd just get it all out of the way so we could skip the Slytherin-Gryffindor enemies for life spiel entirely. I actually spent most of my time travelling in the muggle world you know," he informed her, "Didn't use magic for months on end."
"Wow," Hermione replied, suitably impressed, "Well I'm afraid to reveal that you're far more in touch than I am. I've wanted to try going muggle for a month for, oh, ages now. As a sort of experiment."
"It's quite liberating," he informed her, "How about you? Have you travelled much? I meant, outside of travel for work."
"No," she said sadly, "Ron and I got married and then the kids came along and the career and the only place I find I've been is Australia to visit my parents."
"Australia's great though, if you like beaches," Nott replied.
"You've been?"
"Sure. I lived there for a couple of months. Asia was more my cup of tea though, and Eastern Europe."
"Wow," Hermione replied, "You certainly do sound like you've spent your time well."
"And my money," Nott said with a wink, "I thought, what better way to get rid of those dirty galleons than to spend them in the muggle slums of India and Brazil?"
"Hence why you're now working in a book store I guess," Hermione replied with a smile.
"Sure. Speaking of which, can I give you a hand with anything?"
"Well actually, I was thinking I might try something a bit different. Maybe go for some light reading for a change. Maybe even some fiction."
Nott let out a low whistle, "The great Hermione Granger, letting her hair down with a novel. Well, you've come to the right place. Muggle or magical?"
Hermione frowned, "I don't know. I get so overwhelmed when I come in here; it's hard to make up my mind."
"Muggle," he told her definitively, "There hasn't been a good wizarding novel published since the dark ages."
She laughed, "Lead the way to the muggle fiction then."
He led her through a series of aisles until they reached the very back of the store where there was a substantial collection of ordinary muggle paperbacks. The lack of waving and winking faces on the covers made it a rather still and peaceful section to browse.
"This is my corner," Nott told her, "No one else likes to lurk back here. They find it boring."
"Any suggestions then? Since you're the professional."
Nott pulled a collection of short stories from the shelf.
"Somerset-Maughm. He was an obese, gay man travelling the world on his own in the early part of the 20th century. When the world was still full of adventure and intrigue."
Hermione laughed, "Not like today I suppose?"
Nott shrugged, "Go find out for yourself would be my suggestion. I think you'll like Somerset-Maughm though, I defy anyone who doesn't. I particularly enjoyed his short story 'The Painted Veil' but that might just be because I have an extreme fondness for China."
What an intriguing man he was. Nott had definitely not been this easy-going back in school, to think that this mature and knowledgeable man had been lurking somewhere within that nasty shell of a boy back then. If she had suspected she might have paid him a little more attention back in school. Unavoidably her eyes searched out his bare forearm for the place where she knew something evil must still lurk under the skin. To her surprise, she hadn't noticed before but his entire forearm was covered in a sleeve of ink. It was a delicate and intricate muggle tattoo that she wasn't quite close enough to fully make out. It definitely didn't look evil though.
"I'll take your word for it," she replied, gently taking the proffered book.
"You won't regret it," he replied, smiling again in a polite way that belied his patient submission to her gaze.
She felt herself returning the smile. Involuntarily she returned his direct, steady gaze and realized how very incredibly deep his eyes were. A rich brown that was almost black.
"Theo," an impatient voice called from deeper within the store.
"That's me," he said looking a little regretful.
"Right," she replied, "I'd better go meet Ginny anyway."
"Sure," he said and then he turned to leave, "You know, I would pass on my regards to the rest of the Weasley's only…"
"Yes," Hermione interjected, "I understand. Not the most Slytherin-friendly family out there. Sorry about that." Some old grudged still wouldn't die.
"Enjoy the book," he said and she watched as his form moved away. She noticed that he was tall but that he had a delicate bone-structure. He wasn't broad in any sense of the word but he definitely couldn't be called weedy any more either. Just as she was admitting to herself that she liked the way his muggle-style trousers fit him when he stopped and turned and oh god, caught her staring.
"You should come back if you like the book Granger," he called, "I have loads of other recommendations."
She nodded and smiled, feeling terribly embarrassed but also pleased.
He waved and then they both turned and walked away.
That night, Hermione lay in bed alone reading her new book and trying to remember why she disapproved of tattoos.
"Let the dust settle," she muttered to herself in frustration.
She'd barely been divorced for a month.
AN: This is of course a work of fanfiction- I don't own a thing. Please read and review and I will likely return the favour.