~Karma~

Shiro's Haven

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. No profit from this.

Her ardour for the weather had most definitely vanished, as she walked home. She didn't apparate because she thought that walking would let her go over things in her head. And even after the events of today, she was Hermione Granger, she was still going to be unconditionally devoted to her work, without any complaint. Things will resume the way they were and everything will go back to its place respectively.

After reaching her apartment, she planned back to go her Muggle habits with the use of an iPod and a little dock. Just after she set it up, she had wondered how Ron's reaction would be when he saw these two contraptions. Wincing a little, she bitterly reminded herself that he wouldn't be here to look at the devices, for some time at least.

"Small Bump" by Ed Sheeran was playing through the little speaker when Hermione was continuing her work for the Ministry. She was working on the Thought Chamber, dealing with the nature of thoughts, obviously.

After an hour, she figured that she should have lunch, as she hated working when she was hungry. Hermione got up and stacked her papers neatly to the side of her table, before leaving the house. She planned to eat at a little restaurant called "Shiro's Haven" and was making her way to the old building which was badly painted with the colour of Persian orange. The tiny building was placed at the corner of a street. It had little pots near the entrance with beautiful freesias growing out of it. The orange walls of the building were decorated with creepers.

She opened the small wooden door and entered. The place had the aroma of Lavender, as there were aroma scented candles lit. It was dimly lit with hanging lanterns, the corners of the restaurant being consumed with slight darkness. She slowly looked around the place and went to sit down at the table farthest from the entrance, all the way in the back. The restaurant was deserted, except for an old Japanese couple sitting a few tables away and a middle-aged gentleman who was reading a newspaper at a table near the entrance.

She held her head in her hands. Today morning was a bad and contaminated memory that she'd rather not think about. It was like a bitter taste on her tongue. A rough and unpleasant sensation on her skin. Yet, she did not cry. She had, but that was the first and last time that she ever would. She was ready to continue, to not look back or wallow in her sorrows, even if it meant that she wasn't a completely content person. It was like saying, "Yes, I love it," with a look of disapproval on the face. Half-hearted, yet, able.

It had left her devastated and momentarily mentally paralysed. But she couldn't, just couldn't devote her energy, time and tears to something as pathetic as Ron. It wasn't worth it, she thought wearily to herself. Her head was down, resting in her arms as her eyes searched for something to eat on the worn out menu.

"Welcome to Shiro's Haven. Can I please take your order?" An gruff voice asked her.

"In a minute, please," Hermione replied politely.

In her peripheral view, she could see the waiter take a step back and wait for her patiently. She heaved a sigh and scanned the menu for the second time, her head still bent low. After folding the menu, she muttered, "A chicken salad, please."

The waiter nodded, scribbled something on a piece of paper and walked away.

Hermione felt that her emotions were passing through her like wind through the leaves, because wind rustled and momentarily shook them. And the emotions were shaking her hard, leaving no place for coherent thought so she ended up with a fairly haphazard mind. She knew she could continue everyday normally, but with a lack of enthusiasm and spirit. But still, continuing life was an achievement, right?

Fifteen minutes later, the waiter came walking towards her, carrying a bottle of water and a plate of chicken salad. Hermione was looking out of the window, admiring the cycle of nature. There was a bird perched on a tree, and was dropping a twig from its beak to create a nest.

The waiter poured a glass of water and turned to set her meal in front of her. It was at this moment when Hermione chose to look down at her dish, but her eyes quickly fell on the waiters hand. They were extremely pale with a lot of red scars.

Her eyes followed the the trail of his hands, which led to his arms, finally ending at his face and into those empty silver eyes, which were all too familiar to her. Her mouth opened to say something, but closed shut when she saw the troubled look on his face.

No, she thought, it's not possible.

"Malfoy?" She whispered slowly.

He didn't answer.

His hair was disheveled and his high cheekbones were more defined. His eyes looked tired and there were dark, deep and sunken circles around his eyes. His was thin, the uniform hanging loosely around his tall frame. The way he stood showed how uncomfortable he was. He was definitely in a right state, as if he had been through a famine. But then again, he could've been through anything, Hermione thought, as she studied his face. His eyes traveled to hers for a second and then back to the floor.

"Anything else that you would like?" He asked in a quiet voice.

She couldn't believe it. Who was this guy and where was the real Malfoy? This definitely couldn't be the Malfoy she knew, the one who called her Mudblood. The one who undeniably gave her a hard time at Hogwarts, whenever possible. No, it couldn't be him serving her food and pouring water for her in glass.

"No thank you," she responded softly, before shifting her gaze elsewhere. He nodded and turned around to walk back into one of the dark corners where the light from the lamps couldn't reach him.

Hermione stared at her plate. This Saturday had been filled with 2 incomprehensible revelations. Both of which seemed to defy the laws of nature. She closed her eyes for a minute before she slowly started to eat her meal.

After struggling to finish the meal, she asked her waiter for the bill with a lot of uneasiness. He got her the bill and she could sense the anxiety that literally radiated off of him. She paid the amount and then handed him the bill with a small smile, but to her dismay, he only look more troubled.

Hermione looked down at her purse and wondered how unexpected events just happened. How destiny plans our fate and how the karmic ways of the Universe worked, that even magic could not bend or conquer. Sweet, bitter Karma.