Chapter 2: The Symptoms of Niffle Malnutrition
"What are you reading?" Ernie asked, taking his usual spot across from her in the lunch room.
"Somerset Maughm," she replied, "and actually, I just finished," she said snapping the book shut and feeling quite satisfied.
"Never heard of them," Ernie said, taking a noisy bite from his cheese sandwich.
"A muggle," she clarified.
"Oh," Ernie replied absently, clearly not really interested at all, "Speaking of books though, I need to pop down to Flourish and Blotts to pick up a gift. Want to come? You'll need a new book."
Hermione was slightly mortified by the thought of returning to the store so soon but at the same time, she felt a strong desire to see if Nott could recommend her another good read. She needed another book after all and Ernie wanted a companion. It was perfectly reasonable to go.
"I don't know…" she teased, "I still have your riveting paper on the symptoms of Niffle malnutrition in captivity to read."
"Please," he pleaded, levelling her with an imploring stare.
She chuckled, "After work I guess."
It was only after Ernie had gone on his way whistling a rather shaky Celistina Warbeck song that Hermione realized that going with Ernie might give people the wrong impression. They were just work colleagues but surely by now everyone had read about her and Ron's divorce. It was still being rehashed in the prophet and Skeeter was looking for any possible scandalous angle and thankfully coming up with very little. Some old grudged would never die.
Over the top of a shelf later that evening, she spotted his short black hair that still idiosyncratically looked like it would be soft to touch.
"I read your book," she said coming around the corner as he stacked some shelves, "I read your book and I liked it."
He jumped a little, disturbing some precariously balanced history tomes. One tumbled to the ground, landing right on his toe which caused him to curse loudly.
"Sorry!" Hermione gushed in mortification, "I'm so sorry!"
She bent to help clear up the mess she had caused.
"Occupational hazard," he said laughing.
"I should have given you a bit of warning," she said, straightening with an armload of books.
"It's fine Granger," he said still grinning and reaching forward to relieve her of the load. After he had carefully shelved the majority he turned to her again.
"You liked it. That's good. I knew you would."
"Loved it actually," she gushed, "Afraid I'm back for another recommendation. I'm hooked on this reading for pleasure thing now I think."
"Careful," Nott said with feigned concern, "It starts out like any soft drug. First you start with short stories and then next thing you know, you're hooked on literary crack and sitting up all night reading the unfathomable murk that is Thomas Pynchon just because you can."
A shiver of pleasure rippled its way down Hermione's spine at the thought. It took her a moment to register that she was savouring the mental image of her and Nott in bed together, entangled and both hungrily devouring a book. She snapped herself out of it with a sharp shake to the head.
"Are you okay?" he asked with an amused smile.
"Yes, of course."
"So," he said slowly, carefully stacking a couple of books neatly on the shelf, "What are you after?"
"Give me something else about a far off lands and adventures I'll never have," Hermione replied.
Nott stopped what he was doing and turned to her with a questioning look on his face.
"What?" she asked.
"I was just checking to see if I could spot any symptoms."
"Of?"
"Wanderlust"
"Wanderlust?"
"Oh yeah," he said flashing a neat row of neat white teeth, "I surmise that you have it bad. Which is why I think you should read a book called Wild Swans. It's set in China. It's about three generations of women from the same family. I think you'd be into it."
"Sounds like my kind of read," Hermione acquiesced.
"I have a copy out the back, just give me a second and I'll fetch it for you."
He wandered off to find her book for her leaving her alone to ponder why on earth she felt so drawn to this character. Was it because he now projected an air of mystery rather than malevolence? Because he'd gone and lived in a world she would never access? Maybe she was just so pathetically starved for company and he just happened to enjoy the same kinds of things she did.
"Hermione?" a pompous voice called from close by, startling her from her reverie.
"Over here Ernie," she called, "By the home-charms section."
He came bustling around the corner with a thick book under his arm.
"Oh, there you are!"
"Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked.
He showed her the cover of the book which was a blur of moving images who all seemed to be waving their arms about and arguing with each other. She noticed that a great deal of them seemed to be wearing elaborate crowns and one of them seemed to be threatening another with a sceptre.
"Wizarding Royalty throughout the Ages," Ernie said proudly, "Dad's going to love it."
"Here it is!" interjected another deep voice, rounding the corner and Nott entered their presence waving a thick paperback about.
He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Ernie who in retaliation lifted his head and morphed his features from their usual expression of pompous good-nature into something almost menacing.
"Nott," he positively growled. Hermione had to put out a steadying hand to brace herself on the bookshelf.
"Oh good," she said weakly, "You remember him," which was obvious really. Clearly Ernie and Nott had not forgotten each other.
"I'm afraid Macmillan and I never quite got along in school, Granger," Nott explained, not taking his eyes off Ernie's angry face.
"That's an understatement if ever I've heard one," Ernie said darkly.
The thing about Ernie was, although he was usually very gentle, he was actually quite tall and thickly built so when he drew himself up to his full height and assumed an aggressive stance the over-all affect was really quite alarming. Hermione wondered when he'd learnt to do that, certainly not while they were still in school.
"I think we should leave Hermione," Ernie said in a commanding voice that didn't really broker argument.
"Couldn't we all just forgive and forget?" she tried hopefully, "Nott's been really rather nice to me. School was such a long time ago. A lot has happened."
Ernie turned his baleful glare on her.
"Okay, let's go," she said, shooting Nott an apologetic glance.
They turned to leave.
"Hermione wait," he called out.
He quickly crossed the few metres they had already covered and offered her the book, carefully staying a full arms-length. She caught an expression in his face as he carefully averted his eyes and she was surprised to see that he really looked ashamed.
"Thanks," she said and she smiled before Ernie quickly tugged her away.
The mystery of it all drove her quite mad all night and then again all day at work. All Ernie would say was that Nott had tried his best to make his life miserable at school and he would reveal nothing more but it was obvious to Hermione that something beyond common schoolyard pranks and bullying had taken place.
Try as she might, she simply couldn't stop thinking about it and about Theodore Nott. She recalled the ashamed expression on his face time and time again and wished she had a way to help him to explain his actions to Ernie. If there was an explanation… and maybe there just wasn't which is probably why he hadn't spoken up in the first place.
She resolved that it was inevitable that she popped into Flourish and Blotts after work. She simply had to speak to him.
Only, she didn't get an opportunity that afternoon. Or the day after, or the day after that. There was another Goblin crisis that required urgent attention and by the time it had been resolved and the economy rescued, a whole week had passed.
It was a tired and dejected Hermione that walked into Flourish and Blotts the next Thursday afternoon. She did a quick once around the shop and found that she couldn't spot him anywhere so she decided to just be a grown-up and ask for him.
"Hello," she said, approaching a clerk at one of the service counters, "I'm looking for Theodore Nott."
The elderly woman looked confused for a moment before her kindly face perked up into a smile of recognition, "You mean Theo. Yes, I'm afraid you've just missed him my dear. He's gone off to Africa or India somewhere on one of his little adventures."
Hermione's heart sank. "Gone, you say? What a pity."
She hoped her face didn't betray how truly disappointed she really felt.
"Wait," the woman said staring at Hermione shrewdly, "Aren't you Hermione Granger?"
Hermione tried to smile but was afraid it was rather a weak attempt, "Yes I am."
"Well, in that case I actually have a letter of sorts for you. Well, not really a letter. He said he was helping you with book recommendations…" and with that she bent below the counter and began rustling around, looking for something.
"Ah!" Hermione heard after a moment and then the woman's head reappeared, "Here it is."
She handed over a scrap piece of paper that had Hermione's name on the top and a hastily scribbled note that said 'Sorry, I had to take off for a while – Theo'.
Below it was a list of five books.
Life of Pi by Yann Martel
Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakmai
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
Out of Africa by Isak Dinneson
The Little Prince by Albert de Saint Aubery
In truth, Hermione had already read The Little Prince and Anna Karenina. The former as a child and the latter as a teenager on one of her visits home to her parents. The list made her smile.
"Anything I can help you with my dear?" the woman asked kindly, "I'm sure Theo has made sure we have copies of all the books on that list."
Hermione smiled back at her warmly, "In that case, I'll take a copy of each of them. He didn't say when he'd be back did he? Mr Nott I mean."
"Sorry," the old woman replied, "No idea. Could be a month or a year by the sounds of it."
AN: This is of course a work of fanfiction, I own nothing. Please take the time to review so that I can grow as a writer and I shall endeavour to return the favour.