Chapter 2: An Unexpected Match
Disclaimer: I had some biscuits today.
…
DID JKR HAVE BISCUITS TODAY?
I think not.
Thus I am not Jo, and I do not own anything. Oh, except Elizabeth Tibbs and Patrick Adair.
A/N; I got seventeen reviews from you guys when I wrote this, so I just HAD TO FINISH IT. This should give you an idea about what makes me want to write winkwink.
Elizabeth Tibbs was not the sort of person you could confide in. She was a nice enough woman in appearance, round-faced and slim-figured. Her black curls would bob energetically and she would utter encouragements in a sugary voice as you entrusted your secrets to her, but then immediately afterwards she would rush over to the water cooler and blab every single detail. Usually Elizabeth added a few embellishments in order to up the juiciness of the tale. All this was why Hermione was receiving some very bad omens after Elizabeth picked her way across the mounds of books to reach Hermione's desk that morning.
"Hello, Hermione dear," she said in a sing-song tone, seating herself on a stack of volumes illustrating the migration patterns of sheep. Hermione didn't respond, merely nodded. You could never be too careful around her.
"How've things been?" Elizabeth asked again, after a few awkward moments.
"All right," Hermione mumbled, hunched over her quill. Elizabeth peered over her shoulder, trying to glimpse the parchment, unsuccessfully. Finally, she went straight for the catch.
"Hermione," she cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I hear you've been having some- personal problems."
Oh, God, Hermione thought. Why does she have to talk to me about this? Can't she just lay off it?
"Haven't been getting out much lately…" Hermione trailed off.
"I saw you in the library yesterday," Elizabeth whispered pityingly. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" Her eyes gleamed with false trustworthiness. Hermione was at a loss as for what to say to this woman.
Just as Hermione opened her mouth to speak some carefully chosen words, Luna Lovegood looked up from the map she had been marking up and remarked casually, "You know, the population of Succubus Rays has decreased rapidly since last November. Would you like to donate a Galleon to the cause?"
Elizabeth shifted her gaze to Luna after lingering on Hermione. "No thank you, dear," she chirped indulgently, then hurried away, after smiling and saying, "See you around!" to Hermione. Hermione grinned at Luna, who merely adjusted her knee-high blue and red-striped socks and kept working. Hermione had been surprised to see Luna working at the Ministry, but she was just as reliable as any other employee, though apparently she appeared not as sane as she actually was.
Hermione bent back over her parchment, attempting to concentrate. The sheet read:
Rose Galowe
Birthday: April 13th, 1995
Age: 6
Mother: Druella Bulstrode, deceased
Father: Ambrose Galowe, Death Eater
Description: Fair hair, gray eyes, no known traces of magical power as of 1999. Only child.
Whereabouts:---
"She has to be somewhere," Hermione mused. "If only I could leave this stuffy office and actually look for her…" She resignedly flipped the page over and started on the next.
Three hours and quite a few quill nibs later, she had still made very little progress, and Hermione left Luna, who was munching a bag of crisps to fetch a sandwich from the small café in the building. Hermione had barely stepped over the threshold, when she was accosted by none other than Elizabeth. She quickly pushed Hermione into a corner and began what Hermione would have called an interrogation, but what Elizabeth tried to pass off as breezy conversation.
"Hermione! How pleasant to see you again," she started, as if she hadn't just trapped Hermione in a prison of politeness. "Let's see- you're about twenty one, right?"
Hermione folded her arms protectively. "Yes…"
"Oh, oh good. " Elizabeth seemed to store this information in the back of her mind. 'You enjoy historical literature also, eh?"
"What is this for?" Hermione shot at her, feeling rather cross, but Elizabeth was relentless, popping out questions by the dozen.
"Do you like the Weird Sisters? Are you a smoker? Do you agree with the Ministry's decision to regulate werewolf activity? How do you like your eggs? " And so on, the queries becoming more and more obscure.
"Miss Tibbs," Hermione ejaculated after what seemed like an eternity in a stunning imitation of her former Prefect voice, " I do not appreciate this sort of nosy behavior!" She was almost certain that steam was pouring out of her ears.
Elizabeth gave a small, hopeless sigh, and patted Hermione's shoulder in a consoling fashion. "Stay here," she whispered conspiratorially and dashed off.
Hermione flicked her wand wearily and fell for the second time in twenty four hours onto the previously conjured chair. Couldn't everyone just leave her alone? Perhaps she would travel to the coffee shop later. A good caffeine rush was just what she needed.
Why had Elizabeth asked so many odd questions? Dreadfully personal, they were. Especially the one about the mangoes. Hermione shuddered. The only person that would ever ask those kind of personal questions, other than Elizabeth, was-
Hermione jolted upwards with a start.
A dating service.
Vague and frightening memories of large, pink pamphlets being pushed at her by Elizabeth had been newly uncovered. Elizabeth had been trying to set her up for ages; trying being the key word. Hermione had always been much too wary to let anyone else into her life. And the few times that she had weren't pretty. (For example, she had learned not to date anyone whose idea of a fun time is to exchange opinions on carpet tiles. Or anybody who wears excessive leather. Also, men who are obsessive over bands, like the Dragonettes, can be stalkers.) Well, maybe it was more than a few. But Hermione still felt that she had been under severe emotional stress each time, which was most likely why she had agreed to see this stupid man, whoever he was. She just hoped it was someone acceptable who she wouldn't feel too bad about breaking up with.
Hermione heard footsteps. She arose from the chair and swiftly vanished it, perhaps leaving a stray thread from her anxiety.
Two shadows grew from around the corner. Hermione took a deep breath and assumed a false smile.
Which was immediately replaced by an expression of complete awe and amazement, because this man was definitely up to and over snuff.
"Hermione," Elizabeth squealed, "this is Patrick Adair. He's only four doors down from us, isn't that amazing? Honestly, it's like you two were made for each other!" Elizabeth gazed adoringly at Patrick, who blushed under the compliments.
"Really, I'm a bit new around here, so it isn't all that surprising we haven't met-" he glanced at Hermione and grinned. "Hello, Hermione," he murmured in a demure tenor.
Hermione was completely in awe. Perhaps it was the blonde hair that draped shyly over his glasses, or the soft tone his voice took. Maybe it was even the way that he had stuck his quill not hurriedly behind his ear, but methodically into his shirt pocket. Hermione sensed that they could actually have a chance.
It was only then that she noticed that Patrick was politely waving his hand in order for her to reach out and shake it, and she was twisting a lock of stray hair nervously around her index finger, and her mouth was most likely wide open. She jolted herself into attention, and took his hand in what she hoped was a charming manner.
"Hello," Hermione mumbled, feeling a bit heady and dimly aware that her voice was much higher than usual. "I'm Hermione Granger." Idiot!, her brain was shrieking. He'll know your name! Tell him something about yourself! Engage him in witty banter!
"Ah! I've heard so much about you!" he remarked, then smiled. "And not just the things Miss Tibbs has gushed about." Hermione's face reddened, and Elizabeth let out another chirp of satisfaction.
"Why don't you tell Hermione about the little plan you had, Patty?" she proposed with a rather maniacal glint in her eye.
"Ah—well—" here it was Patrick's turn to redden. "I was—well, Elizabeth gave me the idea-" here Elizabeth let out a sniff of retribution "-anyways, you know about the business party? For the Department of Magical Cooperation?" Hermione nodded vigorously, hastily wondering where that memo could have disappeared to. "Well we- I," he hurriedly corrected, "was wondering if maybe you'd like to be my partner to it." He waited hesitantly, and Elizabeth was shooting rather insane glances at Hermione, as if nudging her through her wide open eyes.
"Oh-well-yes!" Hermione beamed at Patrick, who seemed to break his shell of expectancy into relief. They grinned like idiots at each other for a bit until Patrick remarked that he had to be going, and strolled off.
"Adair was a catch, wasn't he Hermione?" Elizabeth teased. "Ah, sometimes I wish that I took all the good ones for myself. But you should be the one to be happy!" Elizabeth giggled. "Lighten up a bit, dear. I'm off to see the girls for a bit." She sauntered away, humming "I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts".
Hermione felt happier than she had in ages. Yes, Patrick Adair was a catch. Hermione felt that he was also the one who would finally separate her past from her future and make her forget.
A/N: WHEE! I know this is like six months overdue, but it's done! Huzzah! Thanks to my friends, potionsmaster, RowenaTonks (get your story out!), and believeintreesemfl (we are allies against exams!). Also, my beta, Windy who looked this over in record time and sent it right back. And Nephele de Tourmalin, who looked over the first half and told me it wasn't awful. :D Love you all! R&R! Luna
P.S. the sheep book is for Katie and Nika. :D