Chapter 7

"I don't know if I can quite believe this," Hermione said breathlessly as she and Ginny dashed up High Street towards Scrivenshaft's. "It sounds way too good to be true."

"That's exactly why I think it will work out, Hermione," Ginny cried. "Look, you've just had a really shitty summer and first month of school. Not only do you absolutely deserve to live above a bookstore in Hogsmeade, but I don't believe that your life can go that long without something good happening to you for once. Sometimes really amazing things do happen."

"I hope so. It'll be so disappointing if it turns out not to be as great as Hooch and Rosmerta made it out to be…"

"Well, if that's the case then we'll just have to keep on looking, won't we?"

It was only a couple of minutes before the girls reached the quill shop. Hermione hadn't set foot in it since she bought her pheasant quill there almost exactly two years before, but the outside of it still looked the same. It was a four-storey cottage with the words "Scrivenshaft's: Makers of Fine Quills and Stationary Since 1605" engraved in a loopy, ornate script next to an etching of a quill pen on the wooden shop sign. Hoping that the owners wouldn't be too busy so that she would get a chance to talk to them about the flat, Hermione pushed through the front door; Ginny followed close behind.

The inside of the shop reminded her a little bit of Olivander's wand shop in Diagon Alley, with hundreds of quills inside little wooden boxes which were stacked on shelves on every wall of the shop. A few other quills were displayed prominently on the front counter. Fortunately, only a couple other customers were perusing the shelves, so when Hermione and Ginny walked in the woman at the front of the counter immediately asked them,

"Hello ladies, may we help you?"

"Actually, yes, you can," Hermione said. "Are you Mrs. Scrivenshaft?"

"I am."

"I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione tried to sound as professional and grown-up as possible as she introduced herself. "I'm not here to buy a quill today, even though I have before and it was lovely. I'm here because I'm looking for a flat. Madam Rosmerta at The Three Broomsticks said that you would have one available above your shop after the winter holidays?"

"Why…why yes, that's true," said Mrs. Scrivenshaft in a surprised voice. "I guess Rolanda Hooch must have told her. I asked Rolanda to spread the word for us, but I had no idea it would go through the grape vine so quickly. How wonderful that you're interested!" She paused, looking a bit flustered, and then continued, "You'll have to forgive me – I didn't expect anyone to come asking about the flat for quite awhile. It's nowhere near finished, and we haven't advertised yet…would you be all right with not being able to move in for a few months?"

"That would actually be perfect. I'm leaving Hogwarts in December, so I wouldn't be able to move in until after then." Hermione began to gain a little more confidence as found herself already liking Mrs. Scrivenshaft, just as Hooch and Rosmerta said she would. Mrs. Scrivenshaft was a relatively short woman with graying brown hair cut short in a layered, feathered style that reminded Hermione of Princess Diana's. She also had a kind face and one of the softest, pleasantest speaking voices that Hermione had ever heard, with a gentle West Midlands accent. "Is there any way my friend and I could look at the flat today?" Hermione continued. "I understand it's not finished, but I'd at least like to see how big it is."

"Of course. Just give me one moment while I fetch my husband." Mrs. Scrivenshaft disappeared up a staircase next to the counter. While they waited, Ginny clutched Hermione's arm and whispered,

"Wow, she seems really nice."

"She does," Hermione admitted. "And the weird thing is, it's not even anything she's said that makes her seem so nice – she just seems so…pleasant. She's a far cry from Mr. Bodley, that's for sure." After a pause, she added, "I'm not really getting my hopes up until I see the flat and find out how much it'll cost, though."

A minute or so later Mrs. Scrivenshaft came down the stairs with a wizard whom Hermione guessed must be Mr. Scrivenshaft, the man whose family had been running the shop for almost four hundred years. Like his wife, he was short of stature; he also had very short grey hair and a stocky build.

"Hullo, Miss…Granger, is it? I'm Mr. Scrivenshaft," he said in the same gentle accent, reaching out to shake Hermione's hand. "My wife just told me that you two girls are asking about the flat – or perhaps I should say, the theoretical flat, as it's still a storage space for now. Hopefully by January, it will no longer be a theoretical flat and it will be a real one instead. We only decided to rent it out three weeks ago."

Hermione found herself smiling at the humor in his tone of voice, and then explained, "Well, it's just me asking, really. My friend Ginny has just been helping me scope out flats today. I'm sorry to come by before it's all prepared."

"No, no, it's all right by us. I just hope you won't be turned off by its being rough around the edges for now. We had grand plans to wallpaper it, and do a few more renovations…and there's still some boxes lying about…but would you like to come up and see it anyway?"

Hermione nodded, and so she and Ginny followed the Scrivenshafts up the same narrow, creaky staircase. Once they reached the fourth landing, there was a small corridor, at the end of which was a wooden door painted white. Mr. Scrivenshaft searched through the pocket of his robes and pulled out a metal ring of about ten jangly keys, one of which he used to unlock the door.

It opened to reveal a single room – but what a large room it was. It was about three times the size of Hermione's bedroom at her parents' house, and since she was an only child, her room at home wasn't exactly small either. A few large cardboard boxes and filing cabinets sat upon the hardwood floor, but other than that, it was empty. Hermione understood now why the Scrivenshafts felt the need to rent out the room; they clearly weren't doing much with it now.

Although the room was unlit, and the black wood burning stove in the corner was devoid of any fire (making it somewhat chilly inside), the room wasn't dark. What impressed Hermione the most were the windows. Two of the walls had smaller, three-by-five feet windows, but the other two walls (which faced each other) had windows so enormous they stretched across three-quarters of the wall. An absolutely magnificent amount of sunlight filled the huge space; sunlight that fell warmly upon Hermione's face and gleamed in her bushy brown hair. Sunlight, Hermione thought to herself, feeling as though she had to catch her breath. God, I love sunlight…

"I know there's not much to it now," she heard Mrs. Scrivenshaft say, "but we're going to section part of it off to create another room for the toilet and bath. We didn't have plans to create a kitchen on this floor, but if you like, you can use our kitchen on the third floor or we can include meals in the cost of your rent – my husband and I love to cook."

"That would be lovely," Hermione said softly. "How much is the rent? And would I have to bring my own furniture?"

"Rent will be about forty galleons a month," Mr. Scrivenshaft replied. Hermione considered; forty galleons was about two hundred pounds, which wasn't bad at all. It was definitely cheaper than anything she'd find if she tried to live in London or another expensive city. "As for furniture, we might have a few spare pieces we could let you use. Our own son recently moved out, and I think we have an old nightstand and a few other things of his in the attic. His name's Aubrey, by the way; he's twenty and he helps out in the shop sometimes, so I'm sure you'll meet him eventually. That is, if you choose to take the flat."

Hermione nodded noncommittally, not sure what to say. The room was so bare, and as of yet it had so little facilities…it was a risky thing to take a flat that was so unfinished…yet she got such good vibes from the Scrivenshafts, and from the room itself, that she didn't want to say no either. She could only imagine how lovely the room would look once the walls had some wallpaper, and once she got her bookshelves set up…

That thought suddenly reminded her of what Hooch and Rosmerta had said back at The Three Broomsticks, the thing that had interested her in the flat in the first place.

"This is somewhat unrelated," Hermione said hesitantly, "but Madam Hooch said to me that you were changing the store, and selling books as well as quills and stationary…?"

Mr. Scrivenshaft smiled warmly. "That's another of our grand plans that, with luck, will happen sooner rather than later. It's absurd that there's no bookstore in Hogsmeade, and we figured it might be easier for students to buy their books here when they arrive for school than to get them in Diagon Alley. Plus it will bring in some extra money for us."

"It will probably be another half a year before we're selling books, though – there's so much we have to do first," Mrs. Scrivenshaft added. "Do you like to read, Miss Granger?"

"Oh, does she!" Ginny suddenly spoke up. "That's the main reason she wanted to check out the flat. She's the biggest bookworm at Hogwarts – if she lived here and you started selling books, she'd never leave this building."

Instead of looking at Hermione strangely, as Hermione briefly feared would happen, the Scrivenshafts chuckled good-naturedly at Ginny's comment.

"Well, it would be nice to have a tenant who's intelligent and an avid reader," Mrs. Scrivenshaft said. "But I hope we can convince you to take the flat regardless. You're the first person who's asked about it, but you seem like a rather nice – and, hopefully, responsible – girl. And if Rolanda and Rosmerta like you enough to point you our way, then that's good enough for us."

"I…I think I'd like to take the flat," Hermione said slowly. "But is there any way I could wait to sign the final documents until I see some of the work you've done on it? I don't know if I should make any final decisions today."

"That would be fine – it's perfectly understandable why you'd want to wait," Mr. Scrivenshaft nodded. "Why don't you come back next month? We should at least have it wall-papered by then and have all of the boxes moved out. Then all we'll have to do is construct the bathroom, which I assure you will be as nice as we can make it."

"All right," Hermione agreed. She glanced towards Ginny; her friend's opinion mattered so much to her that she wanted to glean how Ginny felt about it before she made any decisions. The pale yellow October sun was reflecting off of the younger girl's red hair, creating something of a halo around her head. A small smile played about her lips and her brown eyes looked wide with optimism, which was a good sign; if Ginny had been making the same face she'd made at the Bodley face, it would be an indication to Hermione that she should rush out of there faster than Umbridge being chased by a centaur. Ginny was always so much more vocal about what she did and didn't like, unlike Hermione, who had a tendency to be more passive. Hermione admired her friend's forthrightness, and often wished she could be more like that herself.

After Mr. and Mrs. Scrivenshaft showed the girls out (before which Mrs. Scrivenshaft offered them a cup of tea, which they politely declined), Hermione turned toward her friend. "So," she said, "what did you think?"

"Well, it's a shame that it won't become a bookstore until several months after you move in," Ginny smirked, "but other than that, I think it would be a great place for you to live."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, that one room is bigger than the entire flat we looked at before! And it's not too expensive, and they'll cook for you. And it's so sunny, which I know is really important to you…and…" Ginny hesitated, and looked down at her feet as if she were embarrassed about something.

"What?" Hermione said curiously, tugging gently at Ginny's arm.

"Well, this may sound weird," Ginny said, looking back up at Hermione, "but something about it just felt like home to me. It not only seemed like the kind of place you'd really like when it's finished, but I also felt like it was the kind of place I'd love to come and stay at whenever I visit you."

Hermione smiled, touched. "That doesn't sound weird, Gin – it just makes me feel even better about it than I did before. I'll make sure to get a futon or something just for you."

Ginny opened her mouth wide and gasped, pretending to be offended. "You'll make me sleep on a futon? And you'll take that entire queen-sized bed you sleep on at your parents' house to yourself? Thanks a lot, Hermione!"

Hermione smacked her arm playfully. "Hey, I'm only looking out for you! Remember when we shared your bed two summers ago at the Burrow? You always accused me of hogging all the blankets."

"You do," Ginny grinned. "Actually, sleeping on a futon sounds really good compared to that. And now that you mention it, I think you kick in your sleep as well…there was that huge bruise on my thigh that I woke up with that summer…"

"I do not kick! You got that bruise from playing Quidditch, Ginevra!" Another playful smack from Hermione.

On their way back to the castle, the girls stopped at Honeydukes for some of the candy shop's home-made fudge. As they stood outside the shop, taking in the autumn scenery and enjoying their sweets, Hermione suddenly said,

"Thanks for coming with me today, Gin."

"Of course! 'Mione, you know I'm glad to. I may not have been wild about the idea of you leaving me after the winter holidays, but I'm getting used to it. Besides, I want you to be happy. If I can help you find a flat that you'll be comfortable living in while you're apprenticing for McGonagall or saving the world or whatever amazing things you'll be doing after you graduate…well, then I guess I'll have done my duty as a friend."

"You already have. You always have," Hermione said softly. A moment later she added, in a strangely shy tone, "There was something I've been wanting to ask you…last week when I told you I was going to try to graduate early, you said that no one else has seen as well as you have how much I've been hurting…what did you mean by that exactly?"

Ginny flushed, which surprised Hermione; though Ginny sometimes got embarrassed, she had rarely blushed since she was a child with a crush on Harry Potter.

"I guess I meant that I noticed all these subtle changes in you after Ron broke up with you. Like those worry lines that have started to appear on your forehead, there," and Ginny reached out and gently touched Hermione's forehead. "And the way you didn't seem to be…at peace anymore, you always seemed on edge and didn't laugh anywhere near as much as you used to. The way you were always too tired to hang out outside of class because you never got enough sleep…the way you obviously hated leaving the Common Room at night because it would mean you'd have to see Lavender when you went to your dorm…the way it's been harder for you to produce your Patronus in Defence Against the Dark Arts…I don't know, it was a bunch of little things. Things that even Harry hasn't really seen, I don't think. I'm not saying I'm that much more observant than anyone else – but it's made me really angry that everyone else has been so wrapped up in their own lives that they haven't seen these things, even though they claim to feel sorry for you."

Hermione simply stared at Ginny; she was at a complete loss for words. Suddenly finding out that someone else had seen her quiet suffering, and been sensitive to all the burdens that she thought she alone was bearing, was no small shock. It also made her ache to realize how much Ginny obviously cared about her – more than Hermione had ever thought the other girl would care about her.

So, because Hermione could not come up with the words, she did the only other thing she could think to do: she stepped forward and enveloped Ginny in a swift, tight hug.

"Th-thanks, Gin," she said in a trembling voice, resting her head on her friend's shoulder. "You don't have any idea how much it means to me to hear you say that."

"Of course I do. Silly girl, didn't I tell you that I notice these things?" As the girls pulled apart, Ginny smiled at Hermione, trying to make her smile back; it worked.

"You know, Ginny," said Hermione, who suddenly was in the mood to be completely honest, "in the past few months, you've really become my best friend. Harry has been wonderful as well, especially when it first happened, but I think he's felt too caught in the middle between me and Ron to be as supportive as you have been – oddly enough, considering Ron's your brother. And it's weird because honestly, I never thought you and I would become best friends. We always got along great, but we were…never that close, you know?"

"I know," Ginny said frankly. "As long as we are being honest, I used to think you had a stick up your arse about certain things. No, don't look at me like that, Hermione!" she laughed. "You have to admit, you've loosened up considerably since I first met you. You're still a know-it-all – which, actually, is one of the things I really like about you – but I think we've both grown up in a way that has made us get along even better."

"That's true. And I used to think that you and I could never be that close because I was the bookworm type and you were the athletic Quidditch-obsessed type…which is, incidentally, the same kind of difference that existed between me and Ron that made me worry about whether we would actually be a compatible couple. I still remember what you said to me last year, about how I shouldn't act like I understand Quidditch because I'd only embarrass myself…"

"Yeah, but you and Ron were unsuited to each other in a lot of other ways," Ginny pointed out. "And I'm sorry I said that to you, Hermione. I don't mind that Quidditch isn't your thing, honestly. You're so smart that it makes up for it. Besides, I have loads of other people to obsess over Quidditch with."

The two girls walked back to Hogwarts in relative silence; a paradoxical sense of comfort and uneasiness hung in the air between them, as if they realized that they were getting closer but didn't know quite what to do about it because their deeper friendship was all so new and unexpected. Hermione tried to brush the uneasiness out of her mind by telling herself that when she got back to the castle, she wouldn't be able to wait to tell Harry about hers and Ginny's adventures in flat-hunting.


A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update. Since I wrote and posted the last chapter, I've begun a full-time job and moved into a new apartment, so I didn't have as much time or energy to devote to the fic as I used to have. But I've finally written the seventh chapter, and the eighth should be coming before too long!

One more note: the character traits and physical descriptions of Mr. and Mrs. Scrivenshaft in this chapter are based on that of a middle-aged couple who ran a bed-and-breakfast where I stayed in Stratford-upon-Avon, England, this past summer. They were just such a sweet couple that I had to pay tribute to them in my fic. :)