Hello everyone, this is a gift fic for Ash Juillet as part of the Gift Giving Extravaganza 2021, so I hope you enjoy it. It was supposed to be a oneshot but the muse thought otherwise and so it has become a WIP. Now while I do have six chapters so far planned, I will be sticking to my schedule and posting every few weeks. Thank you to my alphabeta team Art3misiA and TheOnlyCeeCeeJ for helping me with this. I do not own any rights to Harry Potter; they belong to J.K. Rowling.
Hermione had never expected that Diagon Alley would be quiet the day before New Year's Eve, however it in fact was. There were a few witches and wizards strolling along the cobbled shopping street, some browsing wares in windows while others went in and out of shops. The fact that it was quiet was pleasing to Hermione, it meant that she could take her time once she reached the shop she had in mind. The crisp winter air was refreshing as she made her way down the lane towards Flourish and Blotts, snow crunching underfoot, though she was glad to be wearing her long grey wool coat, along with her matching scarf, gloves and hat.
Harry and Theo were throwing their first party as a couple on New Year's Eve and she wanted to get them a house warming gift for Grimmauld Place - something simple yet meaningful. She remembered that Flourish and Blotts sold photo albums, which would be perfect. Before she reached the book store, she found herself pausing outside of Eeylops Owl Emporium. A number of black iron cages hung off a rail outside the shop, inside of which were a number of different types of owl: from a snowy owl in one, to a barn owl in another which was watching Hermione intently. Hermione smiled at the bird, taking in its colouring. While its face was white like snow, the rest of its body was a rich tan. She knew Harry and Theo already had Theo's barn owl, Axel, but there was something about this one that made her think it would be perfect for Harry. Ever since he'd lost Hedwig during the Second Wizarding War, he seemed as though he was missing a part of himself. She knew that if she were to get him this owl, it wouldn't replace Hedwig but perhaps he could form a new friendship.
Hermione had been so distracted looking at the barn owl, that she hadn't noticed the owner, Mr Eeylops, watching her from inside the shop, his face beaming with the knowledge that he would have a definite purchase today.
Opening the door to the shop, he stood in the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back. "She's a beauty, isn't she?"
The voice made Hermione jump, while the barn owl turned her head towards the intrusion and gave an annoyed screech.
"I'm sorry for making you jump, Miss Granger, that wasn't my intention, I can assure you. I saw you looking at Athena there and felt as though perhaps you might be wanting to purchase her?" the old wizard said placatingly, his coffee-coloured eyes apologetic. "She certainly seems to have taken to you."
"No need to apologise, I didn't hear the door open, that's all. Yes, she certainly is beautiful and I am thinking about buying her - but not for me. Crookshanks my cat would not take kindly, I wouldn't think," she said, laughing softly at the thought of Crookshanks finding that she'd brought an owl home as his replacement.
"Ah, so, as a gift then? For - if I were to be so bold as to say - Mr Potter?"
"How did you…"
"I have a way at reading people, Miss Granger. I knew that Mr Potter had lost Hedwig and it was a shame as I knew how close they were, she was part of his family. Athena, here, could be just what he needs now. She'd be a loyal friend, that I can assure you."
"The name, it's funny, the lady with the lamp had an owl who she named Athena."
"Indeed, Miss Nightingale did. That is who I named her after, in fact."
"But Florence Nightingale was a muggle, wasn't she?"
"She was a witch, Miss Granger, muggle-born like you, in fact."
Surprise lit up Hermione's face at this revelation. "I always thought…"
"Many do, but we learn new things every day, don't we?"
"Yes, we certainly do."
"Now then, are there any other owls in Mr Potter's home?" Eeylops asked as he took the cage down from the hook and brought it inside the shop, placing it on the counter, which he moved behind.
"Yes, Axel…"
"Theodore Nott acquired him, if I'm not mistaken. And how is Axel?"
"In the words of Theo 'a devil with wings', though I never had any issues with him when I've been around him, but lately he's been rather grumpy and attention seeking."
"It can happen when they don't have a mate, they may find he calms once he meets Athena."
At her name, Athena screeched quietly in reply, watching the exchange between the two intently as if she knew what was going on.
Hermione smiled at Athena, then returned her gaze to Eeylops. "How much is she?" she asked, taking her purse from her beaded bag, ready.
"10 Galleons, please, Miss Granger. Will you be taking her today?"
"Would it be alright if I collected her tomorrow afternoon?" Hermione asked, as she handed the old wizard the correct amount of coins, which he put in the till, shutting the drawer with a click.
"Of course, that is not a problem. I shut the shop at four on New Year's Eve."
"Then I can come and collect her at three if that's ok?"
"Perfect, I shall see you tomorrow then. Goodbye, Miss Granger."
"Goodbye, Mr Eeylops and thank you again."
"You're very welcome," he replied, waving as she left the store, shutting the door behind her.
Delighted with the surprise gift for Harry, she walked across the Alley to her original destination: Flourish and Blotts.
As she opened the door and stepped inside, the bell tinkled, alerting the people within that a new customer had entered the shop. Hermione could see a few witches and wizards standing in the aisles, perusing the shelves of their wares which came in a number of different colours, sizes and shapes. Books filled bookcases that reached as high as the ceiling, with rows of smaller bookcases lining the aisles that reached the back of the shop, where there was a reading area. Upstairs, she could see a few people from the small balcony. But for the most part, she was glad she'd be able to look for a photo album without having to push and shove past people, which was the usual way of things when it was busy. She found that the counter where Mr Blotts usually resided was empty. She guessed that if he wasn't in the stock room, which lay behind the black oak door, then he may be about somewhere putting stock out or helping a customer with a query. As she made her way to the back of the shop, she paused in her journey to pick up a book that struck her fancy, before placing it back where she found it. Once she had found a photo album, she may ask Mr Blotts if there were any books on Florence Nightingale. After what Mr Eeylops had told her, her interest had certainly been piqued, and it wouldn't do any harm in reading up on what the lady with the lamp had achieved in magical medicine. Perhaps it would come in handy with her own studies, since she was studying to become a Medi-Witch.
She breathed in the unique perfume of the books, from the heady scent of fresh ink on unblemished white pages that had yet to be read, to the sweet musky fragrance that resided in older tomes simply waiting to be plucked off the shelves and explored once more by a new reader. The smell of books was something that she would never tire of. She reached the back of the shop, where the space was wider, and surveyed the stationary wares that were neatly stacked upon a table. It was a grand antique, round and crafted in a butterfly style. It had been varnished in a stunning mahogany which the light danced off. Her chestnut brown eyes strayed to a striking emerald green leather-bound photo album with a gold tool finish, displayed on a stand. Picking it up, her hands smoothed over the cover, it was soft to the touch. Flicking it open gently, she found the inside was full of empty cream pages which seemed to be screaming to be filled with photos.
Knowing it was exactly what she was looking for in a gift for Harry and Theo, that they would use it and be able to look back through it as time passed and reminisce, she smiled, feeling her day had been productive and certainly a success. She was pleased with herself. A day like this was exactly what she had been needing. As she made her way towards the front of the shop, she smiled when she saw Mr Blotts appear, coming down the stairs towards her, an empty crate floating in the air above him.
Ah, that explains it, he must have been stocking up, Hermione thought.
Setting the crate down behind the counter, Mr Blott's blue eyes sparkled behind his horn-rimmed glasses. In his late sixties, he was a tall yet thin man who had a gentle countenance about him. "Ah, Miss Granger, I was wondering if you would be making a visit over the holidays, and I see that you have already picked out something. It's a splendid choice, I must say. It can be personalised if you're intending for it to be a gift."
"Yes, I had some gift shopping to do and when I saw that, well… it's just perfect. I'm glad you said it can be personalised, Mr Blotts, as I was going to ask…"
He held up a hand to stop her before she could finish her sentence. "Miss Granger, you have been coming into this establishment since you were eleven years old, and over that time, you have been a wonderful customer and a joy to help and discuss books with. Please call me Elliot, it only seems fitting."
Hermione felt her cheeks flush at his kind words and nodded in agreement. "Very well, Elliot, that goes both ways, it's only fair. I was going to say that I was about to ask if it could be personalised, so, I'm glad it can. However, before I say what I'd like to be on the front cover, I was wondering if you have any books on Florence Nightingale?"
Elliot tapped his chin while he thought then smiled brightly. "Yes, I believe we do."
Hermione watched Elliot come around the counter and go to the tall bookcase opposite. A few steps away, a couple were talking rather passionately about a book the wizard was holding. Turning her gaze back to Elliot, she watched as he flicked his wand in a quick motion that was done with ease. In answer, a black hardback tome floated down from a shelf that was quite high up and into the man's waiting hands. The book had gold tinted pages and elegant script on the front cover with a simple, yet well-crafted engraving of an owl that seemed a miniature imitation of Athena, the little owl, perched on the lady's shoulder.
The title was modest: The Lady with the Lamp: Florence Nightingale, a History by Adelle Griffin.
Placing the book on the counter, Elliot asked, "Will that be all for today, Hermione?"
"Yes, thank you."
"That will be thirty Galleons then, please."
Once the money had been exchanged, Elliot handed the book over to Hermione, who placed it in her beaded bag before turning his focus onto the photo album. "Now, what would you like to be on the front cover?"
"I'd like 'Harry & Theo' at the top, then underneath 'the best memories are the ones we make together'."
Elliot murmured a crafting spell while twirling his wand over the cover, gold script rippled over it with what she had asked for.
"Thank you so much, Elliot, it's wonderful," Hermione said, smiling as she placed the album in her beaded bag which she slung over her shoulder.
"It was a pleasure, Hermione, enjoy the rest of your day," Elliot replied cordially, watching as she left the store.
Hermione never saw the man heading her way as she left Flourish and Blotts until they collided. Her foot slipped on an icy cobblestone and she tripped, her beaded bag slipping off her shoulder and falling to the ground. She would have gone with it had a pair of slender yet strong arms not entwined around her waist to catch and steady her. The heady scent of sandalwood and vanilla flooded her senses, making her calm. The smell seemed familiar, but where had she smelt it before?
Silly witch, should have looked where you were going, she chided herself, her cheeks burning in embarrassment while her heart raced at the feel of the arms around her. Stepping away and turning, she came face to face with her would-be rescuer.
"You dropped this," he said, his voice rich like chocolate yet deep in its cadence, as he handed her the beaded bag.
As she took the bag from him, her eyes fell to the pushed-up sleeve of his overcoat on his left arm, she noticed the familiar sparkle of a glamour, before she could think on that, a charge of electricity shot through her when their hands touched, which stole her breath. She had never felt a connection like that since… Fred. Pushing the thoughts of her lost love to the back of her mind so that this stranger would not see her break down, she met his nut-brown gaze and smiled gratefully.
The man was tall with broad shoulders, perhaps six-foot, smartly dressed in an open black overcoat, underneath which was a crisp white shirt and black trousers, matched with a pair of black wingtips. With those dark brown eyes that seemed to smoulder, along with his neatly trimmed beard and short curly hair - the curls themselves resembling short spikes – he was ruggedly handsome. Realising that he was watching her and their hands were still touching, she broke the contact to put the bag back over her shoulder, while he pulled the sleeve of his coat down over his arm.
"Thank you, and I am so sorry, I didn't see where I was going," she said, quietly, feeling her cheeks brighten again in embarrassment over the situation.
"I can assure you, there is no need to apologise, really. There's no harm done," he reassured, trying to put her at ease as he smiled softly.
As she met his gaze, she felt a wave of familiarity wash over her but she couldn't place where she had seen him before. It was like there was a block in her mind that wouldn't budge.
"I'm sorry about this but do we know each other? I have the strangest sense that I've met you before."
He chuckled, running a hand through his dark brown hair, the curls bouncing slightly from the contact. "If I had a Knut for every time someone said that, I'd be a rich man. No, we haven't met before, I'd remember if we did. Though it's a pleasure to meet you Miss Granger." He paused. "Forgive me - where are my manners? My name is Jordan Loriss." He offered his hand to her again in greeting.
Hermione shook it, feeling the electric jolt again, only lighter this time. There was a hint of surprise in his eyes from the contact, though he didn't say that he'd felt it too. She'd only just met the man and her heart felt like it would pound out of her chest. She didn't know him, even though she felt that he was familiar, she couldn't pinpoint how or why. He was an alluring enigma to her and for all she knew, while he was certainly handsome, he could be a criminal.
If that's the case, then why are you talking to him? You're comfortable in his company. If you'd had a bad feeling, you would have made your excuses and left by now, but no, you're still standing here talking to him, her conscience chipped in, clearly smug.
"It's nice to meet you, Jordan. How do you know who I am?"
His hands fell to his sides and he smiled. "Everyone knows who Hermione Granger is, brains of the Golden Trio and the brightest witch of her age."
His words put her on guard and she responded, curtly. "Let me guess, a reporter from the Prophet? Or another member of the Ministry coming to offer me a job. I'm sorry but I have no interest, whoever you are. Good day."
She began to walk away, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. He fell in step beside her. "I can assure you; I don't work for the Prophet and while I do work for the Ministry, I haven't come to offer you a job, I was simply shopping myself and we ran into each other."
She stopped walking and looked at him, when she saw no trace of a lie in his eyes, she sighed. "I'm sorry, I just…"
"You weren't sure and were worried you were going to be surprised again? I take it that it happens a lot?"
"Not as much as when the War was first over but now and again yes, it's why I'm wary."
He nodded, understanding. "It must be hard."
"You have no idea," she said, laughing softly for a moment.
"So, I take it you are here shopping?" he said, motioning to the bulge in her beaded bag.
"Yes, and it was successful, which I'm glad of."
"Well, that is good, I must be going but it was nice meeting you, Hermione, have a great New Year."
"It was nice meeting you too, Jordan, same to you," she responded, watching as he pulled the collar of his coat up before heading north and around the curve of the Alley towards the brick entrance that led into The Leaky Cauldron.
It was only when he was nearly around the corner and out of sight, she replayed their meeting, from the smell of his cologne to the glamour on his arm, but it was how he had said her name that was the final piece to the puzzle that unlocked the memory.
Her body was curled in against a muscled chest, the smell of the sandalwood and vanilla calming her with ease. The person wasn't Fred, but a stranger. She was safe. Whoever this person was, he wouldn't harm her; she just knew it deep down in her very being. The sea air had stirred her from unconsciousness, she wasn't in the manor anymore - from the taste of salt on her lips and the scent of the sea, they had to be by the coast somewhere. She didn't dare move her head to try and see where they were going. It was too much effort and the pain had begun to ravage her body again from the aftereffects of Bellatrix's curses. She whimpered in pain and his voice fell around her like a soothing balm.
"Shhh, we're nearly there, Hermione, you're safe now, no more harm will come to you," the deep voice was comforting.
Knowing she was going to fall back into unconsciousness again, she made an attempt to look up at her saviour, at the man she would thank. Nut brown eyes gazed down at her from a clean-shaven face.
Rabastan Lestrange.
Ahhhh cliffhanger I know but everything will be explained in the next chapter, I promise ;)
The next instalment to the story shall be posted on Sunday 21st February.
If you enjoyed this, let me know what you thought by leaving a review.
I'll see you all soon,
S L Blake x