Chapter 3: Idle Hands
"Another hand?"
"No, thanks, mate. I'm done." Dean said, looking good-naturedly dejected. "All out. Lav is gonna cruciate me if I lose any more money."
"Heh. No problem, Dean. Thanks for coming out." Harry said, clapping a slightly drunken hand on Dean's shoulder.
"Night, mate." Dean said as he stepped out through the floo, a bit wobbly from butterbeer and firewhiskey.
Harry looked around the table at the only two Weasleys he was really friends with; Percy was looking through his meager winnings, while George piled the galleons, sickles, and knuts in front of him into a bag, grinning.
"I'm going to get you back, George. Don't forget it." Harry barked good-naturedly.
"Mate, you're welcome to try."
The Friday poker game at Grimmauld Place had been a staple for years for the four young men; Dean and Harry had gotten much closer due to their Auror work, while Percy had become much more friendly after Hermione's departure; it turned out he'd probably known and understood her better than the younger Weasley brother, and was still friendly with her as well.
George had always been a staple at Grimmauld Place, especially since he so often disagreed with his family. He usually stayed over, crashing in his bedroom there, when he wasn't abroad working with his other stores. He preferred being somewhere with other people after the death of Fred (he'd always been extremely close to his twin), and he'd not moved back into the flat above the store in Diagon.
"Hmm...it's nearly midnight here, that makes it 6 pm in Chicago. Want to call Hermione?"
"Sure, mate. Using your new feletone already?" Percy asked.
"Heh. It's a telephone, Perce. Or mobile's easier. The auror office is finally pulling their thumbs out, turns out mobile phones are a hell of a lot faster and more convenient for communications than the floo or even Patronuses. I got the contract to charm the things, and they've proved so popular they're looking at changing some of the laws aimed at controlling muggle technology." George said. Such a change in laws heralded a huge shift in his business model.
"Right then. Let's see if she's home." Harry said, looking up her number in his contact book and dialing it.
After 4 rings, he was about to hang up when a breathless voice answered.
"Hello."
"Hermione? It's me, Harry. I've got Percy and George on the line." he said, activating the speaker phone.
"HARRY!" she nearly screeched, and then laughed. "It's been ages since I talked to you! You finally got a phone, huh?"
"I did indeed. The auror office is using them now."
"Nice of them to join the 21st century."
"By way of the 17th century." he quipped, drawing a laugh. "How've you been, 'Mione?"
"Oh...I've been better, truthfully." All three men could hear the hook in her voice.
"What's wrong, little otter?" asked Percy.
"Perce, is that you? Oh...well, I went to a club alone and nearly ended up going home with somebody I didn't want to."
Harry's face got stormy; he'd gotten the hint of what she was saying.
"What did you get dosed with?" he asked. Percy and Fred gasped; neither very familiar with the club scene, they hadn't understood.
"Vampire venom."
"What?" Harry nearly bellowed.
"A Red Court vampire was cruising for a meal, and I happened to get in the way." she said quickly, her voice shaky enough to be noticeable over the international connection. George and Percy went red-faced.
"Where's the son of a bitch, I'm gonna kill'em...and what's the Red Court, anyways?"
"He's dead. Somebody noticed me being taken out of the club and followed. Harry, you're not gonna believe this-it's another wizard named Harry." she said, giggling. "The Red Court are a specific type of vampires."
Harry chuckled, but still looked concerned. "He didn't try to turn you or anything, did he?"
"No. He never got the chance. I got dosed with the vampire venom when he licked my neck, and well...I got very out of it. Think Firewhiskey plus Confundus charm."
George and Percy still looked a bit red, but for different reason; with their relative naivety of the muggle world, especially certain subcultures, they'd still kept a vision of Hermione as a very innocent girl in their minds. Harry knew different, having been told so in no uncertain terms in some of her letters.
"Ouch. That's a bad combination. Thankfully, it sounds like you got out of it without any harm."
"That's what I really wanted to let you know. Otherwise...I'm done with classes for the year. I start junior year, third year, next year. It's really quite exciting. Nothing like Hogwarts, where everything is all traditional. People are doing new things all the time. I wish I could keep a computer, but they break down when I get within 10 feet of them. I have to make do with an old-fashioned mechanical typewriter."
"I heard a bloke out there is working on charming computers to work with magic; any news on that?" George said.
"Unfortunately, no. Even if he could get it to work, the amount of work required would make them prohibitively expensive."
"Pity. If I can get it to work, I'll send you one, 'Mione."
"Oh, George, that would be wonderful. So how's everything going with my three favorite guys?"
"Good. Penny's doing just fine." said Percy, smiling slightly. "She's on a girl's night out while we boys played poker."
"Still dating the field, my favorite bookworm. Most women just can't handle the shear intensity of George Weasley." She groaned good-naturedly at his bad pun.
"Ginny and I are in a bit of a wicket right now. We're not doing well, 'Mione."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Harry. I may not like Ginny much anymore, but I don't like hearing that you're unhappy."
"It's not a problem. We have these periodically. She just wants to do Quidditch, and go to parties, and I'd like to have other hobbies, you know? Lately, though, she's been pissed with me for another reason. Not sure what."
"What's this, a Potter decrying Quidditch? Doth mine ears deceive me?" she said, giggling.
"I love to watch a game, still enjoy a pickup game now and then. But honestly, there's more to life." he grumbled, grinning at her snarky comeback. Despite her recent traumas, she seemed to be doing okay.
They chatted for nearly an hour before finally signing off; Harry had a day out with Teddy tomorrow, while George had to open the store and Percy was planning on a weekend retreat with Penny.
Hermione hung up her phone, grinning at the unexpected call from Harry. She wrote down the number in her little black book, and turned back to the book she was reading.
She didn't get very far...her eyes kept trailing over to the black book sitting next to her phone. She thought of the two numbers marked Harry Dresden in there. It was nearly 7pm, and she wondered if she should call.
In a darkened lounge within her mind, a few Hermiones were lounging, arguing incessantly as they usually did.
Just call him. If he doesn't answer, he's not there. Simple as that. a Hermione said, one that looked exactly like her right now.
"What if he does answer? What do you really want to do?" a second Hermione answered. This one was dressed in rumpled tweed, wearing a professor's suit and bifocals with her hair in a tight bun, and represented her Devil's advocate, the one who questioned everything.
I don't know. It's late to be thinking of dinner...or even just coffee.
He might want to do something to you later though...a third Hermione purred. This one was dressed in her black satin club-going dress, although it was far less substantial than the real one.
She shoved down the comment from her libido, ignoring the insinuation.
I'll call him. The worst that can happen is he doesn't answer. That's all.
"Sure, keep thinking that."
Remember your contraceptive charm.
Shut up!
She screwed up her courage, reached for the black book, and opened it; under his name, in bold, with little hearts around it ("Who is he, Gilderoy Lockhart?" said the tweed-wearing Hermione) were his numbers; office and home.
She started with the home number. She let it ring out, and after hanging up, screamed out in frustration.
Jeez, honey. Relax. Just call the other number.
She dialed, and sat listening to the ringing noise.
*Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring.*
*This is Harry Dresden's office. Sorry you missed me. I'm not in the office right now, but if you leave your name, number, and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. My office hours are-*
She hung up and screamed again, even more frustrated.
Just go to bed, sweetie. Your bedside drawer is calling to you. Specifically, the nine inch-
Shut. Up. Now.
She decided to call one more time, at his home number.
Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring-She was about to hang up, when she heard a click.
Harry heard the phone ringing while he was in the shower. Once, twice, three, four; then it stopped.
He continued his shower, shaving simultaneously, then stepped out and toweled off, throwing on a towel around his waist.
The phone started ringing again; he raced over and picked it up, a bit breathless.
"Hello?"
"Oh! Er, Hi. Um...Harry?"
"This is Harry Dresden." he said, a grin growing on his face.
"This is..er, Hermione. We met the other day...well, you actually saved my-"
"Heh, kind of hard to forget. Hi, Hermione. What occasions the call?"
"Well, er. I just thought I'd call and see how you were doing. I mean..." she sighed. "Oh, damn. What are you doing tonight?"
He chuckled. "Well, I was about to head out for the night. I've got some dice with my name on 'em."
He didn't miss the disappointment in her voice. "Oh. Well, that's alright. You, er...gamble?"
"It's not gambling. Tabletop roleplaying games. I've been playing a game with friends since last year."
"Oh. That sounds interesting." He could practically hear the plea.
He chuckled again. "Do you want to come along?"
"Oh, I wouldn't want to interfere. I wouldn't know what I'm doing anyways."
"Hermione, relax. It's all good. We always enjoy having a newbie at the table. At least I won't be the newb anymore."
"Oh, I see how it is. You just want me to be a distraction." she said, but he could hear the laugh in her voice.
"Yep. I'm leaving soon, so get over here quick if you want to come."
"I'll see you in a few." she hesitated, for a moment. "Thanks, Harry."
"No problem." he said, and heard the click as she hung up.
He turned to get dressed, and had just gotten into his room and reached for the dresser when he heard a crack in his living room.
Harry immediately turned around, holding up his towel with one hand, and saw her standing near the door, grinning. She saw his state of undress and blushed, but gestured for him to go back and finish. He chuckled, turning back around and closing the door behind him.
"Spoilsport!" he heard her call.
"Aren't you supposed to be the naive and demure one?" he called back, and heard her laugh, a tinkling little note with a sardonic edge on it.
He threw on clothes, focusing on 'normal and relaxed', and stepped out again. She was standing in front of a bookshelf, studying the titles...
Uh oh.
She'd found his little selection of...novels. They were usually hidden behind a layer of other books.
He'd bought them as payment for Bob, initially, for a special case. But on lonely winter nights, with no TV, girlfriend, or computer...well...They had to be better than porno mags.
"I'd never have taken you for Anne Rice."
"Would you believe me if I said they're for my skull?"
She turned a steady gaze on me, and then nodded, a smile cracking her face. "I would."
"Then you're naive and gullible." he said, deadpan. She laughed again, a tinkling bell that rang in his ears for several seconds.
"Ready to go?"
"Yep. I, er...I don't need anything, do I?"
"Nope. You can borrow whatever you need. Just let me grab the case of beer to take with."
She poked her nose around his shoulder while he was packing a soft-pack cooler, with some of Mac's finest, ice cold (Mac would never forgive him).
"Mac's? Never heard of it."
"It's a microbrew. It's actually only sold in one place...fittingly, it's called McAnally's. It's a little paranormal pub a bit of a distance away. Accorded neutral ground; they won't screw with you, but you'd better not screw with someone else in there."
"Language!" she scolded, almost as a reflex, and swatted his arm good-naturedly.
"Lots of practice doing that?"
"You've no idea." she said wearily.
"Alright, let's hit the road."
"Mmhmm." she said, looping an arm in his.
They stepped out onto the road, where the mighty Blue Beetle was parked. She smirked at the car; he knew she'd seen it before, but she was a bit out of it then.
"Don't." he said, cutting her off with a glance and a raised eyebrow.
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"Sure."
"It's a lovely car." she sniffed, sitting primly on the cobbled-together crate and upholstery seat.
"Of course it is. The Beetle's never let me down before." Well, most of the time, he thought.
The Beetle roared (well, sputtered) to life, and they set off to Billy and Georgia's.
"So how did you get in my apartment anyways?"
She giggled. "Apparition. Or Disapparition, depending on your perspective."
"Which is..."
"Translocation. It's a sort of wordless spell that I can use to project myself somewhere. Mentally at first, and then the body follows suit. It's easy to get wrong, and leave behind parts of yourself, so it's not easy to learn. I got pretty good at it during what should have been my 7th year of school. It was the only safe and rapid way to travel."
"Handy." And scary. Right past my wards?
"It can be. It's dangerous to use when drunk or injured, though. Easier to lose bits of yourself."
"That could be an issue." he said, smirking.
She giggled. "Mmhmm."
He looked her over briefly at a stoplight, and she caught him looking, blushing brightly at the attention. She wore a nice pair of suede boots, a pair of faded dark blue hip-hugging jeans, and a white peasant blouse with a nice light green wool cardigan over top. Her hair was pulled up in back, piled behind her head and stuck through with a pair of chopsticks.
"You look nice."
"The same." she said, peeking at him. Beneath the perpetually present black leather duster, which she really enjoyed the feel and smell of, he wore a plaid western shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. She noticed that he had the rod she'd seen the other night hanging on a thong in his coat, and on closer inspection she saw a hide bracelet on his left wrist covered in copper shields and a silver ring on one forefinger. He also had a pentacle pendant made of silver around his neck, which looked a bit battered.
"So what's this game like, that we'll be playing?"
"Currently we're playing Arcanos. Medieval, sword and sorcery type. Wizards, and barbarians, and thieves and such. The sort concerned mothers and Christian purists wring their hands over, because it encourages the people who play to actually think through problems rather than just take someone's word for it. Plus, chainmail bikinis in the source books."
She snickered. "Ahh. Never had the chance to play before, though I've seen some people with those books in the Library before. Who do you play with?"
"Billy Borden, his girlfriend Georgia, and their friends Kirby and Andi."
"I know Billy and Georgia at least. And by association, the guy with them who was buried in the books labelled with that name must be Kirby."
"And Andi is a redhead bombshell friend of Georgia."
"Oh." she said, a bit flatly.
"Heh. Don't worry. I'm currently betting that Andi and Kirby are going to get together. Georgia swears there's nothing going on. But..."
"You got a hunch?"
"Got a hunch." he said, smug look on his face. She smiled, then looked away at the rapidly darkening city.
"Here we are." he said, parking near a large apartment building. It wasn't necessarily the best of areas, considering the odd intersection of college campus and low-rent housing in Chicago. The area had inexplicably been getting safer in recent years. It obviously had nothing to do with the pack of large wolves that had been patrolling the streets late at night, chasing the supernatural predators away. Nor did it have to do with the deal that had been made between the Red Court and the Council. Not at all.
They climbed the stairs up to their floor (she was curious why he avoided the elevator), then knocked on the door. Billy peeked out the door, and saw him. The situation almost reminded her of the dark days of the war, when people didn't open their doors without security questions. Then he looked across and saw her, and an eyebrow went up.
"Come in. Hey, Harry. And welcome..."
"Hermione."
"Nice to meet you. Come in, meet the gang." he said, closing the door behind them. Harry took a bag out of his pocket, and hung the duster up on a hook, giving her a wry smirk as the young man that had answered the door (short, shorter even than her but broad as he was tall and built like an armored tank) pulled her by the arm over to the other players, who were migrating towards a large table upon which a sort of gridded map was laid out.
"I'm Billy, that's Georgia in the kitchen, this lug is Kirby, and that's Andi over there. Guys, this is Hermione."
Andi and Georgia walked over, giving her a quick hug. "Welcome, Hermione. You're one of the Library gang, aren't you?"
She blushed. "How did you know?"
"I always see you there, usually sitting with Sally Clyde. I occasionally talk to her."
"Apparently my reputation precedes me."
"Huh, I didn't recognize you." Billy said, studying her.
"I'm dressed a bit differently than normal." she said, pink tinging her cheeks.
Billy nodded. "Ahh, must be it. Well, grab a seat. I assume Harry filled you in on what we're playing?"
"He did. I think I'll be able to pick it up."
"Great! Alright, we've got the big dumb barbarian here" he said, pointing at Harry who mock-snarled, "I'm the witty, urbane, fireball-wielding wizard, Georgia is the holy woman with the power of god at her fingertips, and Andi is the sneaky, deadly thief. And Kirby is the one who keeps us nutcases on our toes with weird monsters and plot twists, also commonly referred to as the DM and 'you bastard.'"
Hermione giggled. "Sounds entertaining. So what do you need me to do?"
Billy reached into a file cabinet and pulled out a folder, then leafed through it. "Well...we could use a stalwart knight, the clever, cunning and charismatic bard, or the ascetic with improbable martial arts skills."
"I have the feeling I'm probably the bard. I've been told I have a thousand tricks up my sleeves."
"Bard it is!" Billy said, pulling a sheet and passing it across, along with a pencil and some scratch paper, and grabbing a little plastic figurine about an inch high, of a small figure holding a lute.
Harry saw Georgia give him a silent beckoning motion, and he followed her into the kitchen where she slowly got snacks and drinks together.
"I didn't know you were into coeds, Harry." she said teasingly.
"Hell's bells." he said, exasperatedly. "I just met her the other day. She was...well, she was going through a bad time. I stopped her from going home with somebody against her will."
"She's a client?" she asked confusedly.
"Not quite. I gave her a hand in a sticky situation, and she wanted to hang out tonight. I figured this would get her mind off the problem."
"Hmm. We'll talk, Dresden. Later." she said, brooking no disagreement.
"Yes, mom." he murmured under his breath, and she swatted him on the head.
He helped her with the drinks, and handed out everyone's Mac's beer. A short silence was observed for the drinking of the first of the Mac's, and even Hermione got into the act.
They continued after a moment, and Kirby and Billy helped her quickly build her character; a pixie bard, tiny and fierce. As suspected, she caught on quickly apart from some confusion about save bonuses and the like. Harry was thanking God that she hadn't chosen the monk; He'd rather try to pick his way through Sidhe contracts than argue with the incomprehensible arcana that was the grapple rules.
Hermione had a blast that night. Apart from some bobbles with game mechanics, she threw herself into the actual role play of the game, spinning some inspired yarns and bluffs to get past guards that even threw the DM, Kirby, for a loop.
She enjoyed it not only for the game, but also for the interaction. All here were friends, and had varying interests in the game; Harry seemed to enjoy it more for the simplicity it carried than the seeming complexity of his normal life (she guessed that's why he didn't play a wizard in-game, although that didn't stop him from arguing with the in-game wizard about wizardly tactics). Kirby and Andy were flirting subtly, although she noticed that Georgia seemed to be totally ignoring the interplay, or was oblivious (and she leaned to the former). And Billy was a bucket of laughs, playing up the snarky, witty wizard very well. She suspected he used some of Harry's personality to create his character.
She was brought nearly to tears from laughing so hard when the barbarian and the holy woman got into a metaphysical debate regarding respect for the dead in a church cemetery and the related issue of property rights (it was amazing what he could put across in single-syllable words), and again when the thief kept snagging things off non-player character's belts without being caught, much to the obvious frustration of the DM.
The invite to continue coming to games came easily, and she accepted it gladly. She saw a tiny smile on Dresden's face when she did, and grinned back at him, delighting in the blush she saw coloring his face.
Strangely, it seemed like almost getting eaten by a vampire was the best thing that that had happened to her in recent memory.
"Bye, you two. See you next week?"
"Definitely. I had ever so much fun tonight." Hermione said, leaning against Harry's arm. Georgia's eyes flashed a warning at him, but he nodded subtly, indicating he was already aware.
"Do you want to head home from here, or do you want to leave from my place?"
"I'll leave from your place. I can teach you how to set up anti-apparition wards too."
"Heh. I'll take you up on that offer."
The ride to his apartment was quiet for most of it; he didn't have a car radio, and the only noise was the traffic from outside, the sputtering of the Beetle's engine, the whisper of the tires, and the humming coming from the passenger seat.
He looked over at her and she smiled back at him, when she noticed his attention. "Have fun tonight?"
"Mmhmm! I really enjoyed the barbarian's advanced grasp of metaphysics and moral conflicts."
"I thought 'It's Mine Now.' was particularly inspiring. As was 'Treasure inspectors.'"
She blushed. "Hey, it was my first time." She blushed redder at the unintentional double entendre.
"Most people muff it up the first time." he said, with a wicked grin. "They get the hang of it with practice though."
"Oh, quiet, you!" she said brightly, swatting at his arm. She looked out at the buildings on each side as they proceeded back to his apartment.
"I always liked the city at night. It's got such a different character than during the day. In daytime, it's dirty, smelly and busy. At night, it's all dark and starlit."
"Hmm." he said, remembering some things that had happened on dark Chicago streets that he'd rather forget.
They drove on in silence.
"Want a drink?"
"I'd better not have another beer. Just a coke." she said, sitting on a couch in his apartment. He pulled two cans out of the fridge and handed her one, popping the top as he did. She grinned at his thoughtfulness, and took a swig of coke, then leaned against his shoulder, her feet buried underneath her.
"I had a really good time. Thanks for bringing me out. I enjoy making new friends." she said, looking up at him.
"I thought you might have fun there. I figured you would at least peripherally know the gang."
"They're so different. And I think you were right about Andi and Kirby, now that I think about it."
"Georgia refuses to see it. She won't admit I'm right." he said with a smug grin on his face.
"Hmm." she said, humming softly again as she took another drink. After a minute of companionable silence, staring into the low fire (more for atmosphere than heat), she looked up at him, and got up to her knees, steadying herself with one hand on his shoulder, then settling herself on his lap, straddling his hips.
"Hermione..." he said warningly.
"Shush." she said, putting a fingertip on his lips. "Let me have my say. I didn't get the chance to properly thank you."
"'Mione-"
"It would be my choice, and my right to give you a reward." she said, getting closer, and he fought the growing urge to pull her in and kiss her, only barely keeping himself from resting his hands on her hips. Finally he mastered the urge and put his hands to her shoulders, holding her out a foot or so.
"Hermione...I can't accept. It wouldn't be right."
"Harry...you saved my life. There's a debt. It can only be repaid with a sacrifice from me."
"And I can't accept it now." Her libido heard the word now and danced licentiously in glee, while the rest of her began to get his drift, and her demeanor cracked. "I'm starting to like you. You're different. Clever. Brilliant. Beautiful. But you're also broken somewhere inside. I couldn't, in good conscience, take advantage of you like that."
"If it's my choice..."
"I want to be able to respect myself in the morning when I look in the mirror, well, if I owned one. And I want you to be able to respect yourself too. It would be like taking advantage of a drunk person right now, you're not thinking clearly." he whispered, firmly but not harshly.
The first tears began to slide down her face, and he saw a look of revulsion and dejection growing in her eyes.
"Notice I didn't say never. I'm not rejecting you. I'm telling you to get your head on straight and clear your brain out before we pursue something here. I want to know more about you. About your life, about your past. You can learn about me at the same time. It'll be a mutual voyage for us. And at the end, if you still feel the same way, we can take that next step."
She sniffled, then buried her face in his shoulder, curling up against his chest. He sighed, and put his arms around the weeping girl, rubbing gently.
"Shh. It's alright."
"Y-you m-must think I-I'm some k-kind of w-whore." she sniffled quietly. He held her head back a bit so she could see his face.
"No. I don't. I see a brilliant, clever, beautiful girl who's a bit broken at the moment. And feeling vulnerable." He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, and she closed her eyes and smiled even in the midst of tears.
"I'm sorry for breaking down on you like this." she murmured into his shoulder.
"At least we're on the couch this time, and I'm dressed." She enjoyed the vibrations of his talking against her own chest and neck.
She giggled. "Yes, that is an improvement."
They sat for a while, and he felt her calm down, sniffles abating and breathing evening out.
"Come on, you should go home. You can do your...Apparating thing."
"Okay. Harry? Thanks. I had a great time, and you were a perfect gentleman yet again."
"I'd hate to have my record broken."
"Good night."
"Night." he said, and she turned on her heel, her body twisting in on itself and disappearing with a crack.
"Sally?" The knock on her door had been unexpected.
"'Mione? What's wrong?"
"I threw myself at him like a slut. And he turned me down." she said, breaking down in tears once again. Sally reached out of her apartment door and pulled the weeping girl in, wrapping her up in her arms and directing her to the couch, where she sat down with her.
"Come on, tell me what happened."
