When Hermione woke up two days later, the first thing she heard was a tapping on the window. Groaning, she rolled over and buried her head beneath her pillow. "Go away," she mumbled sleepily. She's spent the last two days worrying endlessly over the state of her life, wondering when Malfoy was going to reveal her secret.
The tapping stopped for a moment, and then began again, louder than before. Lifting her head, Hermione stared at Crookshanks, who was seated on the large, square bedpost at the foot of the bed. His tail was waving slowly, the tip flicking every so often. "Crooks," she called, trying to make her voice sweet. He didn't even flinch. "Crookshanks!" This time he turned his head slightly, but still didn't come to her.
She pushed herself up so she was resting on her elbows and tried to see what he was staring at. There was an owl at the window, fluttering madly. In its claws it held a large stack of papers tied together with twine. Hermione's heart nearly stopped. Was it… could it be her lost manuscript, returned by a mysterious savior?
Throwing the covers off of the bed, she lunged towards the window. At the same moment, Crookshanks leapt from his seat on the bed post. Trying to duck out of the way, Hermione shrieked in pain when her cat landed on her shoulder, tottering precariously before sinking his claws into her shoulder.
The owl tapped with even more fierceness at the window, and she forgot Crookshanks for the moment and hurried to the window. Crookshanks suddenly jumped from her shoulder and onto the windowsill, twisting a bit before settling himself on top of the lock at the bottom of the window. "Move!" she screeched. He gazed up at her, opening his mouth in a lazy yawn, his teeth sharp and gleaming. Hermione swore. "Crookshanks, don't you dare make me throw you!"
She normally felt that the cat could understand her, but today he was acting stupid, like any other cat. "Why do you hate me?" she moaned. He was smiling at her; she could swear he was smiling at her exasperation. Bloody cat. She tried to reach under his body for the lock, but he batted out a paw and caught her hand beneath it, his claws piercing her skin.
"Don't say I didn't warn you!" she shouted, reaching for her wand. She realized it was on the other side of the room, on her bedside table. Changing the direction of her grab, she closed her hands around the cat's large middle and threw him. He landed with a thud on the wooden floor, yowling. "I'm sorry Crooks!" she cried, suddenly feeling terrible. He stirred feebly, jerked, and then jumped to his feet, hissing. She watched him stalk away, his bottlebrush tail stiff and fluffed up in anger.
The tapping began again and she turned from him to the window in excitement. Unlocking the window, she shoved it open and watched the owl soar into the room, dropping its package on the bed. She recognized the owl at once, and her excitement fell flat. "Oh. Hello, Athena."
The brown owl hooted softly before settling on the bed post, where Crookshanks had perched just minutes before. Athena was her press manager's owl. Sighing, Hermione untied the leather cord holding all the sheets of parchment together. The top piece was folded in half, with her name scribbled on top. Unfolding it, Hermione scanned the thin, loopy writing, growing unhappier with each word she read.
Hermione,
Don't forget, book signing today! Be at Flourish and Blotts by ten, we're expecting quite a large turnout. Wear something nice. Please. These are your fans you're meeting. Send Athena back with any questions.
Leah
Turning the paper over, Hermione hurried to grab a quill and reply.
Leah,
Sorry, can't make it. Something's come up.
Hermione
The truth was, she'd completely forgotten about the signing. She didn't want to go, anyhow. At the moment, she didn't even want to think about her books. Giving the letter to the waiting owl, she watched Athena fly back out the window until she was just a speck in the sky.
Picking up the rest of the papers that Leah had sent—the ones she'd thought had been her manuscript—she groaned when she saw it was all fan mail. Busying herself with reading them, she waited for the owl to return, knowing that Leah would definitely send her back with a response.
Mrs. Weasley, I'm just writing to say I absolutely love you series!
Hermione, your books are the best! Can't wait to read more about my favorite couple!
Please keep writing, your books have inspired me to rekindle the romance in my marriage!
Grimacing, Hermione tossed letter after letter onto the bed. What would all of her readers say when they read Lost Heaven? That was, when she found it and continued writing. She glanced at her watch. Athena had been gone for fifteen minutes; it was seven after nine. Just then, the owl soared back into the room, carrying a scarlet envelope.
"No, no, no! She can't just send me a Howler!" The envelope began to smoke. Athena fluttered her wings a little, her beak clacking. "All right, go on and yell." The envelope exploded into flames and Hermione stumbled back a bit.
HERMIONE, YOU'D BETTER BE AT FLOURISH AND BLOTTS AT TEN OR I'M COMING OVER AND DRAGGING YOUR SORRY ARSE THERE! SOMETHING CAME UP? I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING! THIS MIGHT WELL BE ONE OF YOUR MOST IMPORTANT PUBLIC APPEARANCES EVER! AND YOU'D BETTER NOT SHOW UP IN MUGGLE CLOTHES OR I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU.
With a final puff of smoke, the voice stopped, the red tongue-like ribbon rolled back up, and the envelope crumbled into ash. Grabbing her wand, Hermione cleared the cinders from the bed and got to her feet. "I don't need to make bloody public appearances," she grumbled to herself, glaring at the owl. "Aren't I already famous enough? Or does being a war hero not earn me any recognition at all?"
Athena screeched loudly. "And you'd better shut up or I'll pull all your feathers out." Crossing the room to the closet doors, she pulled them open and began to sort through her robes. "Pink… What the hell do I have pink robes for?" Hermione shoved the garish robes to the back of the closet. "White… How am I supposed to keep white robes clean?" She pushed them aside as well, finally deciding to wear a dark blue set that she'd gotten for Christmas a few years back.
Not hungry, she glanced at her watch, saw it was a quarter to ten, and turned on the spot, Disapparating with a pop. Standing outside the book store in Diagon Alley, she frowned, worried whether or not Leah was going to kill her, and then opened the door, gasping when she saw the amount of people already lined up before the empty table with a banner overhead stating, "Hermione Granger's Lost Heaven Series. Get your copy signed today!"
Ducking her head, she hurried to the back of the store, where Leah was most likely waiting with a crew of workers. Spotting her, she smiled as brightly as she could and said, "Morning, Leah!" with false cheeriness.
"Where the bloody hell have you been? We've been waiting for hours!"
"I—you told me to be here at ten!" Hermione spluttered.
"Yes, but you know we always meet an hour before the actual planned meeting time," she hissed. "Look at you! We can't have you out there like this!"
Several women scurried forward and whipped out various lipstick tubes and compacts. Backing away, Hermione glared at them, but to no avail. They surrounded her, painting her face up. She probably looked like a clown. "Would you stop—" The woman doing her hair gave it a particularly violent pull. "Ouch!"
Pulling away, Hermione fixed a smile on her face, grabbed a quill from a waiting attendant, and moved out from behind several bookcases to greet her fans. They started moving towards her at once, a great mass of people. Sighing, she sat at the table and began to sign away.
Three hours later, the line was still huge, and her hand was cramping. A photographer from the Daily Prophet had shown up just minutes ago and was already snapping away, getting much too close to her face with his camera. And then a voice sounded from somewhere nearby.
"Eating up the attention, are we?"
Groaning to herself, Hermione looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing before her, smirking. The photographer looked delighted.
"Oh! See here, everybody! It's Mr. Malfoy himself!"
And then Hermione realized that this was a terrible situation. Malfoy knew her secret. He could tell everyone right now, and all of her fans would hate her, and Harry would be so disappointed. Everyone would be so disappointed. She had to get him out. Now.
Leaping from her seat, she ran around the table and draped her arm around his shoulder. "Draco Malfoy! It's great to see you! Simply marvelous!" She grinned at the photographer, who was clicking away.
"You know Mr. Malfoy?" the man asked.
Thinking quickly, Hermione came up with a story and hoped Draco wouldn't have time to interrupt and ruin it all. "Of course! Draco and I were best friends at Hogwarts, weren't we?" She smiled up at him with what she hoped was an adoring expression and he sneered back.
"How lovely! What a wonderful reunion between old friends! Let's get some more pictures, shall we?" No, no. That would give him more time to tell. Improvising, Hermione grabbed a stack of her books that had already been pre-signed and clutched them to her chest. "Ladies and gentleman! When Draco Malfoy came here today, he had no idea he was going to get my series for free! Here's to you, Draco!" And then she dropped the books into his arms.
But the photographer was still going on about them meeting up. "I didn't even know you were friends! This will make a great story!"
There was a laugh from Draco next to her.
"There's a lot you don't know about Hermione," he said.
Acting as if this were funny, Hermione giggled, hoping it would not be noticed as a nervous laugh. He was going to say it. Her life was ruined.
"Tell us all you know!" the reporter accompanying the photographer said excitedly. "We hardly know anything about Harry Potter's best friends and their lives." The expression on her face was one of greed.
No, no, no! This couldn't be happening. Clutching Draco's shoulder, Hermione glanced up at him. "Draco, darling," she said sweetly, all the while thinking—darling? "Why don't we meet up for a nice long chat at Florean Fortescue's?" She dug her fingers into his shoulder as hard as she could. "We can have some ice cream together!" she cooed, hoping she sounded sincere. With one last smile, she escorted him to the door and pushed him out, hissing, "Stay away from me and my life!" and then watching with a satisfied smile as he walked away.
Returning to the table, she felt like crying when she saw the amount of people still waiting in line. She couldn't help but hope that the remaining fans wouldn't take more than half an hour.
Who knew if Malfoy had taken her seriously?
What the bloody hell was she going to do if he really was waiting for her at the ice cream parlour?