Disclaimer: It's not mine. I'm not profiting from it. It's a distraction from shit things that happen in life.
Enjoy :)
Pansy was going home, back to England. Not because she wanted to, but because she didn't have a lot of choice. America was no longer her kind of place. No-one wanted to employ an events planner with a scarred face: her appearance didn't exactly scream 'Fun Times'. she was sick of being treated like a freak. Every time she went out, there were hundreds of people ready to point and stare at her. After a while, it really got her down.
Turning away from the window of her apartment, Pansy caught sight of her reflection in the mirror on the wall opposite. Even now, a year later, an UN-expected glimpse of her self still had the power to give her a jolt.
There was no escaping it, she was ugly. How everyone would laugh when they saw her. Not to her face, but certainly behind her back. It wasn't a comfortable thing to admit but if anyone deserved their comeuppance, it was her.
Pansy slumped down on the edge of her bed, angrily brushing away a tear, she was glad to be leaving America, so why was she crying?
She already knew the answer: going back to England would undoubtedly be worse.
The new wizarding village of 'Kinship' was formed after the fall of Voldemort. Then several more were created by this example. A new safe place to live. A place where muggle-borns, half-bloods and pure bloods could all live together in one community.
Anyone visiting from the city would call it a village, but it was considered - by the locals , at least- a small town. Ravishingly pretty and nestled in southern England, between Avebury and Stonehenge. A magically significant place for over 5000 years. Everyone knew everyone and in-comers, were regarded with suspicion. The unwritten rule was that until you'd lived there for over five years, you were a begrudgingly tolerated outsider. After that, if you were very lucky, you may be accepted as a local.
When Izzy Cadwallader had moved to Kinship, five years ago, the rules had magically been broken. Together with Hermione Granger, they'd opened 'The Stone Circle'. a quaint little Bookshop and Bakery Combined. It was the perfect addition to their - then- tiny town.
'I don't know how you do it' Said Hermione, when Ancient Cyrus Flint had shuffled out of the shop, the basket containing his morning Pain Au Chocolat and two crusty cobbs, leavitating behind him. ' You should have heard him years ago when he found out we were opening the shop. Complaining about Fancy Muggle foods….. stinking out our streets…. herbs and garlic…. just look at him now, practically our best customer. And he fancies you' Hermione smirked, 'You've definitely Pulled'
'He's Harmless' Smiling, Izzy Flicked her wand and made the broom shimmy across the floor. Quickly sweeping up the dried mud that had crumbled from old Cyrus' boots. 'If only he were 50 years younger'
It never failed to impress Hermione the way that izzy had effortlessly managed to become a bona fide local within the space of a couple of months. Maybe it had something to do with her deep, dark eyes, glossy raven hair or glorious hourglass figure. Maybe it was her velvety voice. Whatever it was , it worked. Izzy was kind, discreet and adored by everyone. A single parent, she has arrived in Kinship with her two year old son Percy, who had his mother's smile and - presumably - his fathers Blonde hair. Now a boisterous seven year old, Percy - short for Perseus - was best friends with Hermione's Niece Lily. The two of them - almost the same age - were inseparable.
'Anyway, Look at you' said Izzy as Hermione was loading a basket full of all sorts of yummy treats ' All dolled up on a Tuesday. Eye-shadow, Mascara AND lipgloss. I'm impressed'
'Oh god!' Hermione didn't normally make much of an effort for her weekly trip to London and Diagon alley. ' I don't look like a lady from Knockturn, do I?'
'Don't be silly. The suppliers are going to wonder what they've done to deserve such a rare treat' Izzy raised an Eyebrow ' I'm pretty curious myself actually'
'Oh you know. Looking for good deals and better business.'
'You'll definitely get "Business" looking like that'
'Book and Bakery Business! And….. I may have met someone, on Saturday, at that party I went to near my Parents old house. He works in a solicitors in Muggle London. I thought maybe I could drop by and drum up a little take away business at the same time.'
'Ooooh a muggle Customer. And would this happen to be an attractive potential customer?'
'Well, I couldn't really see. I think so.' Hermione picked up the basket and made her way towards the door. 'I'll know for sure when I see him again today'
' Just don't forget to come back' Izzy called after her as a couple of tourists entered the shop.
Hermione made her way to the apparition point. They'd had a change in the way witches and wizards apparated after the war. In every town & Village there was now a designated apparition point. Somewhat like a muggle bus stop. You'd stand in the circle, wait for the traffic light to turn from red, through amber, and then green, and apparate. You'd land safely in a pre determined location. All the while making sure there was less risk of splinching and less risk of landing directly on top of some unsuspecting witch or wizard - or heaven forbid, muggle - that happens to be enjoying a stroll. The only downside to this, of course, was the timetable. Just like muggle buses, you could only access a certain location, at specified times.
While she was waiting, Hermione's mind drifted back to Izzy's comment. When you spent your entire time at school being taunted and called Unoriginal, but cruelly effective names, it was hard to squash the old feelings of inadequacy. She was 12 years old again and distressingly plain, the archetypal ugly duckling with her Frizzy curly hair, terrible teeth and matchstick legs. Basically, not a pretty sight. No wonder everyone had spent the better part of 7 years making fun of her. One person in particular.
Oh well, at least it was character forming and she had blossomed since then.
Hermione landed in Diagon Alley and made her way towards the leaky cauldron, so as to go into muggle London. She paused and decided to pop into the ladies on the way. Hermione checked her face in the mirror, making sure she didn't have any breakfast stuck in her teeth (no longer terrible thanks to a certain school bully and the school healer)
Ruffling her hair - it was highlighted with honey blonde and shiny, still curly, but manageable lovely curls and responded well to a good ruffle - Hermione smiled at her reflection. She would soon be smiling at her Hero.
Like an idiot, Hermione had - After repairing them with her wand - washed her ripped trousers. Completely forgetting that the business card was in the pocket. All that was left legible was an address. She didn't even know his name. Oh well, she'll find out soon enough.
Another quick smile told Hermione that she looked ok, her lip gloss was still intact. She was wearing an emerald green top, black above the knee skirt and black and green striped ballet flats. Smarter than her usual jeans and t-shirt, but the people at the solicitors - Zimmer and Malloy? something like that? damn that ruined card - they needn't know she was only doing it to impress their - hopefully- Handsome Boss. Nearly there now.
