A/N: Hullo there. Sorry for the delay...it's summer and all, ya know? This one is a wee short, sorry, but I'm typing as fast as I can...which isn't very fast. (I Don't own Harry Potter...btw...)
While Hermione, secluded and in her own peaceful world, tinkered away, Draco ran a hand through his mop of platinum blonde hair. So many boys, running around. Draco just wanted to pull his hair out.
"Sir! Mr. Malfoy! Will we be making fireworks today sir?" Draco groaned silently and lifted his head to see who was bothering him as the next class came in. It was one of the younger boys, uniform wrinkled, hair disheveled.
"Thomas Banks?" Draco was not impressed, to say the least.
"Yessir?" Thomas's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, barely noticeable.
Draco dropped his voice to a whisper. "If you keep bothering me about those bloody fireworks I will sign you up for the rugby team." That caught his attention, and the skinny boy, no more than fourteen years old, stepped back, eyes wide.
"You wouldn't…" Tommy rasped in accusation.
Draco narrowed his eyes, "Watch me…" Draco chuckled and Tommy smiled. Thomas Banks was by far one of Draco's favorite students. He excelled in chemistry, just as he had in Potions at Hogwarts. They often joked about Tommy's assured spot on the rugby team. The boy, however, was a swimmer. His long, lean body could often be mistaken for lanky, and many of the other boys, young and old, picked on him relentlessly. Thomas never complained and always took the insults with a smile on his face. It often made Draco ashamed of how he had treated some of his peers in school. Like Granger. Merlin knew she deserved it, but he had been a little harsh. His past aside, Draco was proud of the boy.
He looked at the clock. One hour left until he could hide amongst the fluffy green comforter on his bed and delve into a classic he was revisiting: The Three Musketeers. Muggle fiction, he found, was truly fantastic.
After a long day of work, Hermione Granger headed back to her small apartment, tripping on another stack of books as she walked in. Gosh, she really needed a new apartment. She and Ron hadn't exactly gotten to the stage where they lived together, and Hermione was fine with that. She wasn't really expecting Ron to move in with her or the other way around. They weren't a lovey-dovey, see-you-all-the-time kinda couple. They had their own things going on in life, and Ron had clearly stated that he would have none of her books in his stylish sea-front home. And that was fine with her.
First of all, Hermione decided that she wanted a muggle apartment. She would still put magical wards on it, but she needed to get away from the pixies clogging her pipes. She powered on her muggle computer and searched for some kind of vacant apartment in London.
Hours later she apparated into a small alleyway by the building she was checking out. The building was nice, near King's Cross Station, bringing back memories from her days of Hogwarts. Maybe if she and Ron had kids, they would make an outing of their first day at Hogwarts. She sighed. Ron didn't want kids. Something about too many sibling growing up. Hermione, however, was an only child, and she desperately wanted kids. Maybe he could convince him otherwise. She doubted it though. Ronald Weasley was as stubborn as a mule.
Hermione swung open the door and stepped into the lobby of the building, grateful for the heat that warmed her nose and ears. She ran a gloved hand through her multitude of hair before climbing the stairs to the fifth floor.
After a long climb, she checked her watch to make sure she had the appointment time right. The realtor had said 5:30, and now she was here. The apartment number was 5B. She studied each door to find the right one. Aha! 5B.
Warily, she knocked. The door swung open immediately after she knocked.
"Miss Hermione Granger, I assume?" The realtor was a slick man. His shiny black hair, cut short, was slicked back against his skull, and he was impeccably dressed. He checked a silver watch adorning his wrist while Hermione meekly nodded. "Well, then. You're right on time. Come in, please." He ushered Hermione in and showed her each room. The kitchen was beautiful, with dark granite countertops and beautiful cherry cabinets. The fridge hummed as she inspected the kitchen. The tiles were dark and smooth, and her small heels clicked softly as she walked across the kitchen. It was a two bedroom, one bath apartment, equipped with a kitchen and a small living room. From the kitchen, they headed towards the first bedroom. It wasn't huge, but Hermione loved it from the minute she saw it. It had a balcony, overlooking the busy London streets, and one whole wall was a bookshelf. It was almost as if this apartment was made for her. The other rooms went by in a blur as Hermione fell more and more in love with the cozy apartment. It was so hers.
Finally signing the papers and leaving the apartment, Hermione nearly skipped down the hall with glee. Her smile widened with each step.
"OOF!" Hermione's chest slammed into someone who was slowly walking up the stairs. All she saw was his green and silver scarf, slightly askew, before she hurried down the stairs, ducking her head. Disapparating quickly from the alley, she landed in her living room. As quickly as she could, she packed each of her bags with clothes, books, trinkets; whatever would fit. All of her furniture, anything remotely belonging to her, was shrunk to the size of quarters and tucked safely away in a different bag.
Hermione stood at the entrance to her tiny apartment, looking around at the rooms. She smiled at the memories, and then quickly exited and shut the door. She had already bought her new apartment and sold her old one, so all that was left was leaving the old and moving into the new.
The rest of her day was spent with unpacking all of her belonging and putting them somewhere in the house. Fortunately, at the end, there were still three free bookshelves.
