A Happy Accident
This morning is practically blissful, Hermione idly thinks to herself as she sips her tea. She leans against her counter, gazing out at her colourful back garden. She hates gardening, almost as much as she hates flying, but there's something about the instant, apparent results that she finds eternally satisfying.
She glances at her watch and sees it's time to leave for work. Hermione believes in peaceful, slow mornings. She gets up an hour earlier than she has to to ensure her mornings are stress free. While in school, Hermione had often been given a wide berth by her classmates before 10 am due to her irritability. The years had taught her that you can't snap at your colleagues like you did when you were fifteen.
Hermione climbs into her car and discreetly utters a quick charm to warm it up. Muggle technology is fantastic, but she hates waiting several minutes for the car to heat up. There's a bite in the air, the crispness of October a warning sign of the winter to come.
She enjoys driving to work, too. Her mood bright, Hermione takes the time to watch a kid skip happily across the road, hand clasped tightly in their fathers hand. The child seems to be animatedly telling a story and she's so engrossed in this that when the car hits her bumper, it takes Hermione a moment to realise what has happened. Her hands shake and thoughts swim erratically through her mind as she pieces together her surroundings.
Cursing, she pulls over and gets out to take a look at the damage. Absently, she's aware of the other driver doing the same, but she ignores this until she knows what she's dealing with. Hermione sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in an effort to retain the serenity she had been feeling all morning. Do not lose your temper, do not lose your temper…
"Sorry about that, don't know what happened - "
Hermione whirls around, her chants forgotten, "You don't know what happened? You crashed into my car! My brand new car."
His face is a deep shade of crimson now, and she feels some perverted sense of satisfaction from his shame. Hermione recognises him, but can't pinpoint where from. She doesn't ponder it long because he's talking again now, incensing her further, "It'll be as good as new in no time, can you calm down a bit?"
"Calm down? You are some asshole, you know that?"
"If you're going to go name-calling, I'm not going to speak to you," He says smartly, condescendingly, and so full of confidence that for one brief moment of insanity she feels embarrassed.
"What Ron meant to say was that he's sorry and how can he help, right?" Hermione notices another man enter the picture and stares at him for a minute, blinking as she pieces together some details in her mind. Her brain is fuzzy, its usual sharp wit dimmed, but Hermione would recognise that man anywhere.
His black hair is as messy as her distant memory paints, but damn. She does not recall him being so.. so… sod it, he's bloody gorgeous. It's probably good she doesn't remember him like that; he was eleven when she last saw him.
A movement toward Ron's pocket catches her eye, "Eh, look over there!" He says theatrically, pointing.
Hermione narrows her eyes, "Were you about to confound me?"
If she had thought his face was red before, it was nothing compared to the brilliant shade he sports now. Hermione wants to laugh at the colour but her rage is tampering with her ability to see humour.
"Ron, seriously? Christ, mate, can you stop doing that.. We've been over this -"
He holds his hands up in defence, "I wasn't going to do anything!"
"Let's start again. We're sorry, we're late for work and drove a bit too fast and - well, here we are. Harry Potter," he introduces himself, holding his hand out, but she feels his eyes scrutinise her. Hermione racks her brain trying to remember the article she read about him once Voldemort was defeated. She's not a fan of celebrity columns though and had barely scanned it, leaving her bereft of any useful knowledge. His next words catch her attention, "Do I know you from somewhere?"
She shakes his waiting hand, "Hermione Granger. You two once made me cry so much I was almost attacked by a troll. Lovely to meet again - it's great to see how you've matured, Ron."
"Oh, bloody hell.."
"Hermione!" Harry exclaims, snapping his fingers, "Of course. They don't keep trolls in Beauxbatons then?"
"Funny enough, they don't. Downright boring if I do say so myself," She finds herself grinning, unable to help it when he's looking at her with such interest.
He laughs, and she relishes it. Hermione isn't a typically funny person; when she makes someone laugh, it fills her with a sense of satisfaction and pride that she admits to herself is rather pathetic. "Must have been terrible. We had a basilisk the very next year, you missed out big time."
"Ugh, lucky. Beauxbatons was more 'study and get good grades' than 'lets keep dangerous animals and see if we all live'."
He shakes his head solemnly, "Shameful."
"Hermione, I am sorry about your car." Ron interrupts, and Hermione inwardly sighs. She had almost forgotten he was there. He looks sheepish and she takes a moment to try and dispel any remnants of her anger. "We're probably all going to be late for work now. Can I get your info so we can sort this out later?"
Hermione looks back at her car, a silver modest Peugeot, her eyes immediately drawn to the dent marring the back of it. She laments silently at the now crooked license plate. With her senses now returning to her, Hermione leans forward to touch the damage and has to face the facts: she can fix this rather easily with magic. It's cosmetic damage, it should be straightforward once she gets home. The paint will be tricky but she'll manage.
"I can probably fix this myself later," she admits to the redhead grudgingly, disappointed that she doesn't have the opportunity to put him through some misery.
"You're probably still in shock, could feel some other effects later on," Ron responds, surprising her. Hermione supposes he's right. Now that she thinks about it, there is a twinge of pain running up her back into her neck. His demeanor changes then and he leans forward, "And, hey, we did save you from that troll."
"Charming," She says, her tone dry. Although she can't lie, she's happy Ron has brought back up this topic, because Hermione has the chance to talk to Harry again. The grin Ron wears doesn't spark the warmth in her that his friends does. Her eyes slide to him, "Do you make a habit of troubling women so you can swoop in and save them?"
Before Harry can reply, Ron scoffs, "Please, save you? You're scarier now than you were back then, and that's saying something."
Harry gives her a grim look, "Sorry, my friend has permanent foot in mouth."
She laughs, throwing Ron a sympathetic glance, "It's alright, some might find that kind of thing endearing." Feeling bolder and braver than she perhaps ever has when it comes to men, the next words that tumble out of her mouth leave her baffled, "I find the charismatic-best-friend thing a bit more endearing."
His eyebrows shoot up, and Hermione is thrilled to see two pink spots appear on his cheeks. Harry scratches the back of his neck, "Oh, yeah? That's - well - I mean.." Her confidence begins to plummet, leaving only the thudding of her rapidly beating heart to occupy her as he muddles through her words. "I mean, that's -"
Ron rolls his eyes, "Harry, mate, cop on."
The words are harsh, and an admonishment is on the tip of her tongue but Harry speaks first. Years of friendship have clearly taught them how to motivate each other. Determination now on Harry's face, he continues, "That's the nicest thing anyone has said to me."
He frowns after, as if hearing his own absurd words, and she almost laughs. He's terrible at this. Ron has apparently had enough of their conversation, because he gives an obnoxiously loud sigh and pushes his friend forward, "Bloody hell, you two go get a coffee. I'll let work know you'll be a bit late."
She nods too readily, but doesn't care, "I mean - I'm late already and I've never taken a sick day or been late, and well, I have just been in a car accident - a little more time couldn't hurt?"
Hermione is happy to see him look as eager as her, "Same, and we're just staking out some guys house like a stalker so I can definitely be late."
"Thanks, mate," Ron says sarcastically. He gets into his car then and she gestures to her own for Harry to join her.
Hermione must have hit her head during the accident. She never misses a minute of work, and here she is practically slacking off! She tries to calculate the likelihood that she's in shock and acting madly because of it, that the butterflies in her stomach are from anxiety rather than excitement and the wild swooping sensation in her chest is nausea from an injury rather than infatuation.
He peers over at her then before she starts the car, his gaze concerned and earnest, open, "Are you okay? You're not just in shock?"
After several seconds of being distracted by the gleaming, lovely green of his eyes, Hermione disbands all doubts. This isn't shock - she likes him. This knowledge excites her, it's been years since she's been genuinely interested in anyone, and although it's far too early to know if they'll be whatsoever compatible, Hermione feels positive (maybe even confident) about him and this.
"I'm absolutely fine," She beams.
He settles back against his chair and they set off. Glancing briefly at him, she says, "I read about some of your Hogwarts years in the papers. I missed out on a lot, hmm?"
He laughs, but it's lacking the warmth she heard earlier, "You missed out on a fair bit, yes. We could have used someone as smart as you. I - I heard you weren't at Hogwarts at the Triwizard tournament because you were in some Transfiguration competition."
Surprised, "You noticed I wasn't there?"
Hermione can see him shrug out of the corner of her eye, "You were the only person I knew in Beauxbatons, I was curious." They fall into silence for a moment. "I'm glad we met today. I was a bit preoccupied back then."
"Trolls and basilisks and such?"
"Trolls and basilisks and such," He confirms, chuckling.
Later, when they're on their second cup of coffee and buzzing from more than the caffeine, Hemione will swear he's the most genuine person she has ever met. She'll tell him this, jokingly, and Harry will think he has fallen in love then and there.
Hermione Granger, even after all these years of distance, doesn't see the boy who lived; she sees Harry Potter. For his part, he sees kindness, strength and courage that he wonders how he survived all these years without.
A/N: Thanks for reading!
I'd love a review if you feel up to leaving one :)
CR.