A/N: Hello everyone! Here is the first chapter of an expanded story I am working on. This started out as a tumblr prompt, and I thinking now it will be around 15 chapters in total. We'll see! I hope that you enjoy this modern AU. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two soon!
Hermione stared into her oven through the little glass window, watching the cookies baking away inside. She smiled with pride, noticing that they were nearly perfect, they only needed a few more moments. Watching for a moment longer, she turned off the heat, only to reach in and pull out the pan.
Setting the pan on her counter, Hermione looked around for her spatula, only to hiss in pain when her arm bumped into the hot cookie sheet. Staring down at the red welt in disappointment, she wondered if her efforts weren't doomed from the beginning. Nothing seemed to be going her way that day.
Spatula in hand, she worked on getting the cookies onto a cooling rack, only to growl in annoyance when the soft, gooey deliciousness accordioned under the pressure. Throwing down the spatula, Hermione wondered if the universe was just determined to conspire against her that day.
It seemed as if she'd been messing up all day. Normally she was an exacting baker, but she'd used baking soda instead of baking powder and had to scrap the first batch. Then, she'd used entirely too much flour the second time, only to realize that she was nearly out of the chocolate chips. A quick trip to the market had rectified that, but mistakes just kept piling up despite her best efforts.
Maybe the cookies plight was for the best, she thought, collapsing in a huff into her kitchen chair. Harry and Ron had told her it was odd to bring your new neighbor baked goods these days, but she'd waved their concerns off. Sure, it was a little bit old-fashioned, but she wanted to seem like a good neighbor, and really making cookies wasn't difficult. Normally, she was such an exacting baker that things always turned out for her on the first go.
Nibbling her lower lip, she could admit that perhaps her reasons for wanting to present her new downstairs neighbor weren't completely innocent. She was immensely curious to meet the new arrival ever since she'd seen the lonesome moving truck the week prior.
She'd moved into the first floor flat when her parents had moved to Australia while she was just starting University. Not wanting to leave the schooling system that she'd grown up in, she'd elected to stay behind in London to complete her degree. Her parents had generously offered to help her buy a flat so that they wouldn't have to worry about their little apple crumble being all alone in a big city. The flat was modest and in a quiet neighborhood, right next to a large park that she could run through. She was immensely grateful not to have to scramble for housing near the University every year like Harry and Ron did. It was solitary, which she appreciated most of the time, but sometimes it could get lonely.
Since she'd lived there, though, the garden level apartment had remained stubbornly empty. Not that she was too surprised. She'd looked at that one first being financially conscious, knowing that it was significantly cheaper than the first floor flat. It was dreadfully dingy and dark - certainly not worth the cheaper rent in her opinion. Even Harry and Ron wouldn't consent to move in there when they saw it! And it seemed as if everyone who came to look at the basement flat agreed, because it sat empty for three years.
It was nothing like her airy, homey flat, with it's spacious bay windows overlooking the garden, and white walls making the perfect blank canvas for Hermione to make her mark on. Her flat was large, and even boasted a second bedroom that Harry and Ron were always arguing for when they didn't want to make the trek back to theirs after late night studying sessions.
So, when she finally caught sight of the moving truck the weekend before, she'd become obsessed with figuring out who Hagrid had tricked into living there. So far, she hadn't caught a glimpse of the mysterious renter. Really, the only clue that anyone was living there at all was the ashtray of soggy looking cigarette butts that she could see over the fence dividing her bit of the garden from theirs.
Hermione had become determined to introduce herself to the stranger, whoever they were, and knew no better way to do that than offer a baked good. Too bad, these miserable heaps of chocolate and cookie were looking less like a baked good and more like something she'd scrapped out of the bin.
"Things just aren't going my way today, Crookshanks," she said to her cat, who was staring at her from his favorite perch on the kitchen window, his tail swishly lazily in the summer sunlight. He looked wholly unimpressed with her third and final attempt at chocolate chip cookies. Using her fingers, she tried to shape the sad looking cookies into something more like a cookie, slightly burning her fingertips as she worked.
Sighing, she took a step back, deciding to stop before she utterly mangled them. Bringing her finger up to her mouth, she sucked the melted chocolate off of her wounded digit, making a noise of contentment. Well, at least it still tasted delicious, Hermione thought with a shrug. She wasn't a very good cook, but she could bake.
While she waited for the cookies to cool completely, she rolled the sleeves of her cardigan down, hoping to look polished for her new neighbor. She wanted them to know that although she was a student, it wasn't as though she was going to be throwing ragers, making too much noise, or being irresponsible. They wouldn't have to worry about her getting into any mischief.
"I'm a good neighbor," Hermione whispered to herself. "One that anyone should be happy to have living next to them." Crookshanks gave her a skeptical look, as though he doubted her words.
Knowing that she couldn't put it off any longer, Hermione transferred the cookies to a plate, affixing a bit of plastic over the top to keep them fresh. Taking a deep breath, she knew that she had to just go knock on the door, or else she would work herself into even more of a tizzy over it, until too much time had passed and it would be awkward to introduce herself. Better to get it over with now, rather than to cross paths some day six months from now out in the drizzle and carrying a load of groceries.
Leaving the sanctuary of her home, Hermione walked down the stairs to her new neighbor's entrance. She raised her hand and knocked firmly on the peeling green paint of the door, holding her breath, waiting for any noise to indicate that the other person was home.
At first, she didn't hear anything. But then, she caught something that sounded like a crash, followed by heavy steps. The person on the other side of the door fumbled with the locks, seeming to have a bit of trouble with them, before opening the door a crack, the chain still in place. "What do you want?" the male voice groused at her.
Hermione swallowed, gathering her courage. "I didn't mean to bother you," she said nervously, nibbling on her lower lip, trying to get a better look at the man. He was taller than she had expected, with dark hair and a scruffy face. "I'm your upstairs neighbor, Hermione. I just brought some cookies."
The door slammed shut in her face making Hermione blink in surprise. Just when she was ready to retreat to her own home, horribly offended by the rude man, she heard the chain moving in its track, and the door was swinging open again.
Now fully revealed to her, Hermione could see that her neighbor looked quite strong, even in his plain white t shirt and torn jeans. He had an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth, but his blue eyes were looking her over with amusement and if she wasn't mistaken, appreciation. "So you're Hermione," he said with a grin. "Hagrid's told me all about you."
Hermione scrunched up her nose at that. "I don't seem to recall Hagrid telling me anything about you," she said, feeling accusatory.
"Sorry to hear that, sweetheart," he said that same lascivious grin never leaving his face. "My name's Rabastan," he introduced himself, removing the cigarette from his mouth and moving to lean against the door jam, making no secret that he was looking her body up and down.
"It's nice to meet you, Rabastan," Hermione said with a frown, wondering just what his angle was. So far it wasn't really nice to meet him at all. She was getting the message loud and clear that he enjoyed her body, but she was finding him nothing but rude! He had a handsome face, of course, but it was completely ruined by his dastardly behavior. She practically expected him to have a mustache he could twirl before threatening to tie her to a train.
"Did you really make these all for me?" he questioned, his lips quirked into a smile, taking the platter of cookies out of her hands, looking them over. He pulled back the plastic wrapping to inspect them better. "Still warm."
"Yes, well, I didn't make them for you," Hermione said, trying to figure a way to talk herself out of this. It wasn't as if she'd made the cookies for Rabastan. He was acting as if she were some lovesick teenager, bringing gifts to the boy she was pining for. Honestly, if she knew how he was going to act, she would have just decided to forget it. "I was just trying to be neighborly. I would have done it for whoever my new neighbor was."
He breathed in deeply, picking up one of the still-warm cookies. "Mm, I wonder if these taste as good as they look," he said with a smirk, his blue eyes never leaving her, and Hermione got the distinct impression that he wasn't talking about the cookies.
Frowning at him, she tried to exit the conversation as soon as possible. "Well, I hope that you enjoy them. Alone," she said tightly, wondering how this meeting had gone so sideways.
"Wait, wait, don't you want to come in?" Rabastan asked, stepping aside so that she could see inside his flat. It was practically just as barren as it had been when she toured it. She wondered if he was still unpacking. "I think that you and I could have lots of fun together."
"Excuse me?" Hermione demanded, taking a step backwards. "I don't even know you, and you want to invite me in to...to..."
"Fuck," he supplied with a shrug.
"To fuck. No thank you, Rabastan," she said firmly, disgusted with his behavior. "And I wouldn't worry about that changing in the future, so please save any future invitations."
Hermione didn't want to spend another moment in the man's presence and stopped her way up the stairs, back to the relative safety of her own flat. She couldn't believe that she was now neighbors to someone who was such a womanizer! God, not even five minutes with him and she couldn't shake the feeling that he was undressing her with his eyes.
She slammed the door behind her, startling Crookshanks from his roost. "Honestly, Crookshanks, I have no idea what Hagrid was thinking renting to him!" she growled out, still not able to shake the feeling of being so objectified.
The brunette quickly grabbed hold of her mobile and shot off a text to her landlord, not trusting herself to speak to him at the moment. Met the new tenant. Terse, to the point, and hopefully even Hagrid would be able to understand that she was annoyed.
But texting Hagrid wasn't enough. She wanted to complain to someone else about the treatment that she'd just received. Biting her lip, she knew that she couldn't tell Harry or Ron, because they'd either tell her that they told her so, bringing cookies over was weird in the first place, or worse, be woefully overprotective of her, and come over, trying to start something with Rabastan.
Eventually, she decided that she would call Ginny. She knew that Ginny would understand and would be upset on her behalf for the woeful treatment. Dialing way, she was glad that the redhead answered on the second ring. "Hey Hermione, what's up? Luna and I were just making plans to go out tonight."
"What's up is that I just met my new neighbor," Hermione said, letting her bitterness seep into her words.
"Oh yeah, Ron told me you were bringing over baked goods. How did it go?" she asked dutifully. "What are the chances that you'd have some cookies left over to bring round to the pub?"
"Ginny! I am very upset right now," Hermione whined, feeling a bit childish.
Ginny snorted audibly. "Hermione, your cookies are bomb, and you cannot blame me for wanting them. Besides, the pub will be a good way for you to blow off some steam," her friend reasoned.
Hermione could agree with that. It had been a while since she'd let off steam, being so distracted by a couple of essays that just all happened to get assigned at the same time. "I suppose I could go out for a couple of drinks," she said quietly, pacing towards her windows. Peeking out of the curtain, she could see Rabastan standing in his bit of garden, smoking furiously. She swore under her breath.
"Okay, come on, tell me what happened," Ginny prodded, finally, sensing that Hermione wasn't going to just get over this one.
Running her fingers through her wild hair, she recounted what had just happened minutes previously with her new neighbor. Ginny made suitable noises and just let Hermione generally vent.
"He sounds like a jerk," Ginny quipped. "But you are a hot bitch, Hermione. He must have been too surprised by how pretty you were and reverted to his animal brain."
"Ginny," Hermione whined. "Please don't tease." Hermione was very confident in many aspects of her life, but her looks were not one of them. Especially considering she hadn't actually dated anyone since she was fourteen, finding herself far too focused on her schoolwork. She highly doubted that someone like Rabastan would truly find her too pretty to think around. She stared at him standing in the back garden and thought he looked a bit like something out of a photoshoot.
"It's the truth," Ginny insisted. "Was he at least good looking?" she asked, sounding utterly too mirthful.
Hermione sputtered for a moment, wondering if Ginny knew she was spying on him at that very moment. "I mean...a little," she said with a groan. His white t shirt was doing him all sorts of favors, showing off muscular arms. "He looks strong, that's for sure. I wonder what he does for work? Maybe construction or something like that."
"Hm, well, maybe you shouldn't write off your built, hot neighbor based off of five minutes of conversation?" Ginny offered, unhelpfully. "Sure, he made a bad first impression, but I bet that he isn't actually that terrible. Just wait and see what happens."
"I suppose you are right," Hermione answered, hating that she was just expected to give him a second chance. Why should she have to put up with his bad behavior? Still, she knew that she was shite at first impressions herself, never feeling entirely comfortable in new social settings. And, she had sort of surprised him by just knocking on his door randomly. "If we cross paths again, I will try to give him the benefit of the doubt."
"Now, tell me, what are you going to wear?" Ginny asked eagerly. The two girls dissolved into discussion about what Hermione had to wear, her friend suggesting things that were really far too racy for the pub.
Ever since Ginny started dating Blaise Zabini, she'd been eager to see all of her friends hooked up with someone else. She'd even gone so far as to set up her ex-boyfriend, Harry, with their other friend Luna. Hermione couldn't admit that Luna and Harry were pretty cute together, but she wasn't broken up over the fact that Ginny's match-making skills had not extended to Hermione.
Ginny felt even more strongly about setting Hermione up because of the complicated romantic situation between her and Ron. They always seemed to be interested in the other at the wrong times, and after years of dancing around each other, Hermione was finally ready to let that one go. Really, they were better off as friends.
It wasn't as if Hermione needed to date anyone at all. Would it be nice to have someone to have dinners in with, or weekends holed up watching movies? Yes, of course. But, Hermione was also content with just herself and Crooks. Really, she was so busy with school work that she wasn't positive she even had time to devote to a relationship. Once she graduated she could always start dating more seriously.
Sneaking one last peek at Rabastan down in the garden, she wondered if he even knew how much he'd annoyed her. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, before standing to go inside. Hermione sighed, turning away from the window, thinking she'd spent enough time spying on someone she didn't even want to talk to again.
Looking at her closet, she touched the silky fabric of the black top Ginny had suggested she wear out. It seemed entirely too sexy for the pub, but maybe Ginny had a point. She'd been shut in for so long now. Maybe she would wear it just this once...