Summary: After a crazy night out, Hermione Granger wakes up in a room she's never seen. A hero comes to her aid and takes her in, but that's where chaos enters. This savior of her drunken evening finds out secrets that may change the perspective of what it means to be working for a living. Can there be more to risking everything to live?
Were you ever told stories about your life, and you swear they're real, but you couldn't recall them? You could almost taste the texture of it on your tongue. However, the memory of it was as hazy as the amount you spent on drinks. How about a really blurry night after a celebratory evening out? You can only piece together the story after you've woken up the next day.
Hermione Granger's first thoughts were where the fuck was she? Her head was throbbing. Opening her eyes was a challenge as the spiking bright light caused her to grimace. The dry mouth was so difficult and debilitating. She couldn't remember the last time she had that much to drink.
"Fuck," Hermione hissed as she scrubbed her face.
There was a string tugging on her index finger, and she followed it with squinted eyes. It led to the nightstand, attached to a taped sheet of paper. The wounded woman tore the page off the nightstand and pulled it into focus.
Calm down and read on…
Hermione breathed and twitched her nose.
You're currently at my humble home. You remember the handsome bartender last night? Well, I decided that you were far too incapacitated to take a taxi home. When sloshed ladies, such as yourself, go a bit too hard, there's usually a problem. Don't worry. I texted from your phone to let your friends know your location.
If you're looking for some water, there's water bottles in the drawer. Your cell phone is tucked behind the lamp, and if you have to run to the loo, it's to the right outside the door. Don't worry about the food in the fridge or if you decide to shower. Just use the pink towel.
Your clothing is already finished and hung up in the bathroom.
Glad you're safe.
PS the dog likes treats, so grab one from the counter if he gets too obsessive.
Hermione blinked and rolled her neck. What a relief. She opened the night table to find several bottles of water and a packet of sealed Advil. Well, she wasn't going to take anything open. This guy was smart. Well, smartish. What was his name?
She nursed a bottle of water and glanced down at the large t-shirt. Someone cared enough to get her out of the alcohol ridden wears and into something comfortable. The room was welcoming with its neutral colors and a small tv. The one oddity in it all was likely the tiny bookcase with classic literature.
Already she was fond of her unnamed savior. Hermione knew she was pretty close to going home with some smuck at the counter. He reminded her of her ex, and that was enough in her haze to promote such flirtations. Thank god there were good men out there.
The water bottle was near half by the time she took the Advil and climbed from the bed. When she checked her phone, twenty messages were waiting for her. Her outgoing to each of her friends that had texted her last night was the same.
Hello, this isn't your friend. I'm assuming her name is Hermione by your texts. I'm letting you know this is the bartender from last night. She was incapacitated, and I don't leave sloshed women to be taken advantage of by hungry men. My name is Sirius Black, and the following message is my address. There's nothing to worry about. She won't be touched. I just took her back to my house so she could sleep off her drink.
Ginny replied with many different emoji-things of shock and angry faces. We told her not to drink so much! Thank you, Sirius. One of us will be by in the afternoon to pick her up if you don't mind the inconvenience. We lost her when we went to the last bar and appreciated you looking out.
Of course, she was going to place the blame on her. Hermione groaned as she turned off her screen and went to the barrier. Cracking it, she heard voices.
"How's she doing? Did you give her enough water last night?" A smooth voice asked.
"Oh, yeah. She was gone. Cute little thing even tried to come onto me as I was putting her in bed," the raspier voice responded with a chuckle.
"Usually they're up before now. Are you positive she's alright? I'm concerned, Pads."
So this was a regular thing. Hm.
"She's fine, Moony. Stop worrying."
Hermione tiptoed from the room and into the bathroom, being careful to shut the door with caution. Her clothing was, sure enough, hanging on the rack. The woman glanced at the reflection in the mirror and groaned; she looked like a raccoon!
Turning on the water in the sink, she rushed to clean her face as best as she could. The bathroom was set up well, for a woman, actually. There was makeup remove in the cabinet with a cleanser. Several cotton pads and even wrapped toothbrushes in a cup. A regular routine to be sure.
Hermione cleaned up her face with the remover and cleanser. She then worked the mess of her curls with the mousse under the sink. It was a substantial difference in comparison to what she looked like before. After the night Hermione had, she could definitely use a shower, but not at a stranger's house. No matter how nice Mr. Black seemed.
She yanked the t-shirt and sweats off before sliding on her knickers and dress from last night. Taking one more glance at her reflection, she straightened her form. Hermione appeared somewhat put-together despite her incredibly destructive evening.
After finishing up in the restroom, she snatched up her water bottle and left. However, she wasn't expecting the large black dog to be sitting in front of her. "Hey fella," she whispered.
The dog barked and launched at her, knocking her to the floor with a massive thump. "Off, get off!" She shouted.
The animal assaulted her with his slobbery tongue. Hermione grappled with the dog and felt the straps on her expensive dress snap.
"Snuffs, come on, bro, what the fuck. We talked about this," The familiar voice groaned, and soon the dog disappeared.
Hermione sat up and wiped her face with a groan. "Don't you train him?"
The bartender, Sirius, smirked and shoved the dog off to the side before reaching for her. "Some days. How are you doing, love? You had a few too many martinis."
Hermione took his hand, and he yanked her up. "I did, indeed. Thank you for coming to my rescue."
Sirius grimaced as he plucked the hanging strap. "I'm sorry. Snuffles was a bit rough with you. I can replace it if you like."
"No, that's fine," Hermione grumbled as she lifted the dress over her bra.
"Well, Moony's got food on if you're hungry. Usually, the girls dip out before either of us are awake, but you took your time," Sirius chuckled.
Hermione twitched her nose and exhaled. "Well, I sleep in when I don't have school."
"School?"
"Yes," she agreed. "Politics."
Sirius's grin grew. "Paid for your schooling yourself, or are you a trustee child?"
"Personal expense. My parents aren't here any longer," Hermione sighed.
"Are you two coming?" Another voice called out.
Sirius tilted his head and hummed. "Moony is a bit bossy. I know I asked you last night, but do we know each other?"
Hermione shrugged and pushed past him. "Doubt it."
The woman walked into the central area of the home and smirked. It was immaculate and tidy. There were remarkable nooks with books and volumes on every table. Hermione was impressed with how everything appeared so deliberate but lived.
She went into the dining room to see a decently dressed man in a jumper. His speckled hair was disheveled, and he hunched a little while setting the table. "Good morning," Hermione said.
The stranger jerked and recovered with a smile. "Good morning, Hermione. How are you feeling? Sirius told me your friends were picking you up in a little bit."
"I'm feeling better," Hermione said. "You are?"
"Oh, I'm Remus Lupin. My apologies," he huffed while running a hand through his hair.
"Moon is always awkwardly charming. At least his students at Uni think so," Sirius declared as he entered the room.
Hermione sat down and situated her dress again. "Wouldn't surprise me. So, Sirius works at the bar, and you're a professor? Seems like an odd couple."
"Oh, we aren't shagging. We're just living together," Sirius mused as he joined her at the table.
Remus disappeared momentarily to return with a teapot and some cups. "I'm not one to be verbose about tragedy, but Sirius helped after I lost my wife."
Hermione pouted as she leaned her elbows on the table. "I'm so sorry, Remus. I do appreciate you both taking me in last night. I was celebrating the near finish of my degree."
"I have a lighter question. When did a little uni girl like you get a tattoo of a pawprint on her hip?" Sirius questioned as he dressed a teacup for himself.
Hermione's cheeks bloomed with color as her form straightened in the chair. "A little while ago. I thought you were a gentleman who saves slosh ladies, Sirius?"
"He is most days," Remus hummed as he sat down. "Unfortunately, he does have his own curiosities."
"I wasn't going to ask about the one on your ankle," Sirius remarked with a smirk.
"I'm not without my own secrets," Hermione mumbled before grasping her fork. "Besides, it isn't like we'll be seeing each other again. I only came to this side of Britain because Luna assured me the bar scene was better than the uni crowd."
Sirius arched an eyebrow as he leaned closer to her. "Are you positive I don't know you?"
"I truly doubt it," Hermione said.
Remus scratched his chin before sipping his tea. "What are you studying?"
"Law and Politics. I plan to get into parliament after some years if I can keep a decent course," Hermione said with a smile.
Sirius arched an eyebrow and quirked his lips to one side of his face. "You're not like the typical twenty-year-old college girl."
"A bit older," Hermione sighed. "I had to take a bit of time to make sure I could pay for it."
"Well, no one can slight you for doing it yourself," Remus agreed.
Hermione shifted, and breathed. "It's been a long time. I originally didn't like the idea, but I was assured by a coworker of mine that it pays for itself. So, finally, after years of hard work and little sleep, I'm at the cusp."
Sirius tapped the table and hummed. "What do you do outside of studying? What J.O.B. do you have?"
"I work in entertainment," Hermione huffed as she tossed her hair.
Lucky for her, her phone went off. Hermione checked it to see that Ginny was arriving shortly. "Well, it's been riveting, but I should go. I have work in a bit."
"Oh, please eat a bit. Don't feel obligated to leave without at least eating," Remus urged.
Hermione smiled at him with a nod. "I'll make quick work of it then."
Sirius was chewing as he smiled. "What type of entertainment? Do you sing? Maybe with how apt you are, maybe work with reservations?"
Hermione shook her head. "I'm a shite singer. No, just entertainment. It was something I fell into while looking for some extra coin to pay rent."
"You gotta give me something, love. I'm dying over here," Sirius groaned.
Hermione finished a bulk of her plate and nodded. "Thank you so very much for the recovery day. I appreciate the selflessness and kindness for my wild night," she stood and pushed her chair to the table.
Sirius jumped up and skipped after the retreating woman. "Hey, wait, you didn't answer."
Hermione was at the door before turning to him with a smile. "Does it matter? You won't be seeing me any time soon, Sirius. Trust me, what I do isn't up your alley."
"You sure? What is it? Host parties for rich women in need of good wine?"
"Yes, exactly," she smiled and patted his arm. "Thank you for saving me."
That was it. She escaped out the door. Sirius poked his head out to see that she jumped into a little red car. He wasn't usually as nosy with the women he would take in, but she just seemed familiar. Now, where in the world would he have seen her before?