Erich Blunt observed his newfound company through the ink-covered glass. People hustled about, determined to finish their tasks as the day came to an end. Susan gave him sultry looks, giving Erich the impression that she didn't want to go home alone tonight.
Too bad for Erich, though. He had a meeting with a certain someone and there was no way he could miss it. Even if that meant he would have no satisfaction for the night.
"Mr. Blunt?" It was Warren Daniels, Erich Blunt's famed attorney. The guy had never lost a case, even in college. "It's time to go. Your plane leaves in an hour."
Sighing, Erich followed him through a gap in the pane, away from the company.
"Suits... They don't get it," Erich said, sitting on his bed, wonder why on Earth these… people couldn't get it. Why they were seemingly incapable of grasping that the company was all he had. Was listening to him for once truly that inconceivable? Wasn't that what he paid them to do? Listen? Follow instructions? All they'd done so far was play Solitaire on their work computers and demand more money.
Cindy entered the room, she was quiet, but Erich knew. "No, they don't." She stroked his cheek, trying to comfort him. But that wasn't what Erich needed right now. He needed advice, a plan, and only one person could give it to him. One person that was gone for good.
"They're not like you." Cindy sat down next to him and put on a charming smile. He knew exactly what she wanted: a night filled with activity and expensive gifts. "You're special."
"Hey." Erich whispered. He mumbled a few words that he knew would make her blush.
"And crazy," she playfully hit his shoulder.
"Yeah, well, if I wasn't crazy, I think I'd go insane." Suddenly, Cindy's lips were on his. It wasn't right. It was ugly. Erich placed his hand on Cindy's neck and squeezed, not enough to hurt her, but enough to make her want to leave.
"Hey. Erich." Cindy whispered.
"Not now! I have to go to work," Erich hissed.
A look of fear crossed her face as she left the bedroom, closing the door behind her so that he could have some alone time.
"What a show."
Erich turned.
There was a woman in his room.
The first thing he noticed was the cloak. It was dark — obsidian black — the hood draped over her features, likely as a way of concealing them.
"Who the hell are you?" He whispered, eyeing the bedside drawer. If she didn't notice, he might be able to make a move for it.
"Don't you know?" the stranger asked as she leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her slim frame.
"No. Now get out."
"I don't think I will." The voice was definitely female now and it was… British?
"What do you want?" Erich asked, frustrated. He tried to move towards the drawer, but this time the stranger noticed. He stopped moving.
"If you're trying to fire me, it won't work," she said, smugly.
"Then— then..."
"You've done a great job with your company, Mr. Blunt. It's a miracle, how far your company's come in such a short amount of time. I mean, there are only two ways that a man could get to the top so fast - minus intelligence, of course."
"Now, wait a minute-"
"Oh, please, Mr. Blunt, we don't need to lie to each other," the stranger said, walking closer to him, forcing Erich to back away until he hit the headboard. "Just this once, okay? It's not like anyone's within hearing distance."
"Good," the stranger said, taking Erich's silence as an affirmative. Erich imagined that she must be smiling under that hood of hers. "Did you know that there was once a man named Erik? Well, same name, different spellings."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Erich said, his brain shutting down.
Ignoring him, the stranger continued. "Of course, he wasn't a normal man." She paused and stared at him, long and lengthy. "He was a dragon slayer."
"What does this have to do with anything?"
The light seemed to bounce around the room and land right on the strangers mouth. Plush lips formed into a small smile.
"Dragons. You were named after one, weren't you?"
A pregnant pause fell over the room.
"But it wasn't the name that led me to you. It was how quickly you rose to power. As I said before, there are only two ways a man like you could make it to where you are today; by bribing or blackmailing your way to the top. Blackmail's out of the question, of course, considering the situation. So that leaves us with bribery. By this point, most would assume you're old money, but your family is poor. Then again, most would never consider the type of power that comes with a wave of the hand… and a few words."
"Now, hold on-" Erich tried to protest, but the stranger stopped him with a single glance. Although he couldn't see her face, it was almost as if he could feel the anger and resentment in her stare.
"You wanted to keep part of your past, but you couldn't keep something that came from another world because it was too easily tracked: you wouldn't be able to disappear. So you took the view master and changed your name. You chose Erik: a memory from the past. Changed up the last couple of letters to make it harder. And Blunt! A common last name, but not so frequently used either."
Erich didn't move. He didn't even speak, just listened to the stranger, wondering who in the world she was and how she had found him.
"You look so much like you, even now you've changed. A simple dye job could change the color in your hair. Your arms, they aren't covered, but makeup can conceal the Dark Mark." Erich flinched, unintentionally. "Not much to do about the eye color, though," she added, as an afterthought. "The magic in our bodies makes it too hard to change."
The stranger put her hand out almost as if to touch him, but pulled away at the last second and held her arms as if to cradle herself. Looking at the ground, she spoke softly. "You always did have the prettiest eyes."
"Who are you?" Erich whispered, staring at the figure, unable to look away.
Silence filled the room once more, until the stranger straightened and lifted the hood from her face. Brown, curly hair, plush lips and very, very beautiful brown eyes filled Erich's sight. He knew her, he would know her anywhere.
"Hermione," he whispered in disbelief.
"Hello." With that he felt a tug in his abdomen. A tug that he thought he would never feel again. The tug of Apparation.