Chapter Two – The Assistant

Hermione stayed up all night reading that night, which was normally something she did on special occasions, like when a really good book engrossed her, or when a novel she'd been waiting six months for finally came out. Back when she lived with her parents, Hermione used to take a flashlight to bed with her and hide under the covers, reading until she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. Some mornings, her father would come into her room to wake her up and find her asleep, still clutching her flashlight in one hand and her book in the other.

But on this particular night, of course, her circumstances were much different. She could keep the lights on in the small apartment she had been renting for over a year now, and she sat up in bed, with a chamomile tea beside her, reading the book she'd got from the new bookstore she'd found. She felt a little guilty, it almost felt like she'd stolen the thing that was in her hands, and if she didn't finish reading it and return to the store first thing in the morning to pay for it, it would go against every single moral fibre being in her body.

When she finally reached the end of the book, which she decided was a fantastic read, she turned to look at her bedside alarm clock and found it to be three in the morning. It wasn't as late as she expected, thankfully, and so she turned the lights off and prepared for sleep, knowing that at least she might be able to squeeze in a few hours before she had to get up for work.

However, when she eventually woke, and it was to silence, she panicked. Her eyes flicked towards her bedside table and discovered it was already eight thirty. She sat upright and cursed. In her haste to sleep last night after reading her book, she had forgotten to set her alarm, and now she was going to be late. Not only that, but her plan to take a detour back to the bookstore before work was completely out of the question now.

Hermione had never rushed more in her life. She hated being late, she had never been that sort of person in all of her life, and on the occasions that she had been, she always felt dreadful about it. She showered, dressed in her smart casuals, grabbed a muffin from the fridge and headed out the door for work. She also made sure she had the book stuffed into her bag before leaving her building and heading for the London underground.

As she undertook the journey into the Central Business District on the tube, she kept checking her watch, alarmed at how far past nine it already was and how dreadfully slow the train ride was going. It didn't help matters when she unwrapped her muffin for breakfast and found that it had gone bad. What was worse, she got stuck between two older gentlemen, both were rather beefy men with very little neck and stuffed into suits. They were having a rather monotonous discussion about drills and were threatening to put her back to sleep.

When she reached her stop, she was the first out the door. She had to avoid a very little, very old man with a white beard on the other side of it, who yelled at her in a high-pitched, squeaky voice as she shot up the flights of stairs and burst out onto main street. She hurried along the bustling district towards the place of her work around the corner. It was a very tall building, and very modern, made with a lot of glass. Hermione took the elevator up to the seventy-seventh floor and stepped out to greet the receptionist.

'Morning Miss Granger,' she said with a smile, before checking her watch and frowning, 'you're—'

'Late, yes I know, Robbins,' Hermione said, waving as she hurried passed through the doorway to a left, she raced along the row of cubicles, filled with journalists, towards the very back and through another doorway.

Here there was another receptionist area, with two desks, situated in front of a large office; Hermione was thankful that the door was closed, and the blinds were shut. However, her arrival did not go unnoticed; at one of the desks sat an extremely pretty girl, with long flaming red hair tied up in a bun and a freckled complexion. She was pale, petite and had brown eyes, which widened intently when she spotted Hermione and she was forced to shoot upwards out of her chair.

'Where have you been?!' she asked impatiently, as Hermione hurried forwards and took her place behind her desk. 'I've been dying here!'

'Oh, Ginny, I'm sorry,' Hermione said apologetically, turning on her computer and properly arranging some of her paperwork. 'I slept in. Have they been asking for me?'

'Yes, several times,' Ginny said irritably, sitting back down in her chair, 'I told them you were running errands, but they kept asking me to elaborate, and I didn't know how—'

'That's okay, thanks for covering for me,' Hermione said with relief, bringing up her emails and beginning to answer them.

Silence fell between them as they worked. Hermione and Ginny weren't just co-workers, they were really good friends, and had been since the first day they started working together. They had bonded over a love of books, even though Ginny wasn't as big of a bookworm as Hermione, they tended to like the same genres and authors and they often visited bookstores together.

However, whilst Hermione's life passion is in literature, and her job as an assistant in the journalism industry is a stepping stone, it is only a side job for Ginny. Her dream is sport, which she is freakishly good at, and is currently aiming to play soccer at a more professional level. And her life goal is to one day represent her country at an international level.

Ginny finished sending an email and cast a glance over at Hermione.

'Why did you sleep in, anyway?' Ginny asked curiously. 'That's not like you.'

'I was up late, reading,' Hermione explained with a shrug.

'Of course,' Ginny said with a smirk, 'because you don't do enough of that on your lunch break as it is.'

'It's complicated,' Hermione said seriously, 'you see, I found this new bookstore—'

'Another one?' Ginny asked with raised eyebrows. 'That's the fourth one this year! Don't you have anything better to do on your weekends?'

'I found it by accident,' Hermione said bitterly, turning to look at Ginny who rolled her eyes in disbelief. 'It's true! I was escaping the rain and it was the first place I went into.'

'No, Hermione,' Ginny said, shaking her head, 'there's no way you found a bookstore on accident. My brother, Ron on the other hand, I could imagine—'

'Which one is Ron?' Hermione asked in question. 'Is he the tall handsome one with an earring?'

'He wishes,' Ginny said quietly with a laugh. 'Ron is the one person in my family that wouldn't be caught dead with a book in his hand. Anyway, that doesn't matter, tell me about this bookstore.'

Hermione eyes lit up with joy. 'Oh, Ginny, it's fantastic,' she said brightly, 'it might just be the one—'

'Didn't you say that about the last one?' Ginny asked curiously. 'The one you're now banned from?'

'Mistakes were made,' Hermione said, waving away the thought. 'I'm serious about this one. The only way I can describe it is that it's perfect. You must come with me and have a look at it—'

'I can't tonight,' Ginny said miserably, plopping her elbow on the table and resting his chin on the palm of her hand. 'We lost the game on Saturday. The coach is furious and wants all of us down at the club tonight to go over the review with a fine-tooth-comb.'

She made a face and scribbled something in her notebook.

'You would think you'd done enough for your team by scoring a hat-trick,' she went on sourly, 'but then the good-for-nothing defence go ahead and let in four—'

Ginny's telephone rang and she answered it grumpily. She was able to be professional as she took the call, and then once she hung up, she raced into the large office with the message. After several minutes of conversation that Hermione could faintly hear from her desk, Ginny came back out with a slightly pink face.

'They asked for you again,' Ginny said softly, after she'd sat back down, wrote something in her notebook and then swivelled around in her chair to face Hermione. 'I told them you were here now, sorry. They want to see you.'

'Thanks,' Hermione said, collecting up her pen and notebook and strolling confidently into the office.