Author's Note: Thank you guys so so so much for sticking with me! I know it's been forever since I updated and the new chapters are coming with such huge gaps between then, and I apologize! I really have had no time, and I decided I had to get a new chapter up for you guys! I promise I will not abandon this story! Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews on Chapter 15, and I'm sorry I didn't respond to them like I usually do. I loved and appreciated every single one, but time has been so limited for me lately. Not Rowling.
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"Hermione?"
She heard the voice vaguely, as if from far away or echoing in a tunnel, but ignored it. Maybe if she stayed still it would go away.
"Hermione?" came the sing-song call again, this time closer.
Stay still, she told herself, you're just imagining it.
"Hermione?" The voice was now right next to her, and a hand was resting on her shoulder. She made a groaning noise and turned over, flipping the pillow over the back of her head and burying her face into the mattress. She heard a familiar deep laughter and felt a warm hand on the middle of her quilt-covered back.
"Come on, Hermione. It's time to get ready."
"NO," she said loudly into the mattress, although it came out significantly muffled. She felt his other hand rest on her shoulder while the first hand slid up her back. They rested at her shoulders and began to turn her over. She fought against it, trying to make her body as heavy and uncooperative as possible, but he was much stronger than her. He turned her over, and through her messy hair that had fallen in her face, she could see two dark blue eyes twinkling down at her above a smile that tugged up the right side of his mouth.
"Get up, you lazy sod," George teased.
She grabbed the pillow and covered her face with it. She heard him laugh in response.
"Just leave me alone. I want to sleep."
"You can't, you baby. You have a company to run." Even with the pillow blocking her ears, she could hear the smile in his voice. "You took a week off to sort yourself out. Now it's Monday and it's time to go back."
She whimpered as the pillow was pulled from her grasp, and she glared up at her flatmate, who was watching her bemusedly.
"I don't want to," she mumbled, not caring that she sounded like a temperamental toddler.
"I know it's hard, Hermione," he said, his voice gentle, the teasing tone replaced with honest empathy. "Five months is a lot of time, and a week is not enough time to cope, but you have to do this. You can't stay holed up in here forever."
"Why not?" she pouted.
George let out a bark of laughter. "Because you're too brilliant to be sitting in bed all the time. You'd go mental with nothing to do."
"That's true," said Hermione reluctantly.
"So come on," he said as he pulled off her quilt, slipping his arm under her knees and spinning her so her legs were hanging off the bed while her torso remained lying down. "It's time to greet the new day with a breath of fire!" She raised her eyebrows and gave him a skeptical look. "Too much optimism?" he joked. She rolled her eyes in response.
"I'm up, I'm up," she mumbled as she straightened up and stretched, yawning widely. She looked over and saw George was still watching her. "You can go. I won't go back to bed now," she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
"Okay. I just wanted to make sure..."
She laughed and pushed him out of her room. As she was trying to close the door on him, he caught it and smiled sweetly at her.
"Hey Hermione?"
"Yeah?"
"Good morning."
She smiled. "Good morning, George." She closed her bedroom door with a snap.
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"Hi Miss Granger!"
"Good morning!"
"Hello Ms. Granger!"
"Glad to see you're back, Granger!"
"We missed you!"
"Have a good day, Miss Granger!"
Hermione smiled and waved to people as she weaved her way through the office floors. She nodded to some, stopped for a quick word here and there, and tried to hurry to her office without seeming rude. She finally made it and, after another barrage of hellos from her main staff, she slipped into her office and sunk into the armchair that sat in the corner, perfectly comfortable yet hardly used. Suddenly, the door opened and Jonathan stepped in, his movements quick and efficient as ever as he shut the door behind him and flipped open a planner to the correct day.
"Good morning, Hermione!" he said cheerily. "I-, Hermione?" He had looked up to see an empty chair at the desk. "What? But-"
"Over here, Jonathan," she said. He turned and started slightly when he saw her.
"Still too much, isn't it?" he said softly. That's what she loved about Jonathan – he was always two steps ahead, already knowing the situation and what you were thinking or what you wanted. "I was a wreck after my last breakup too." She looked at him inquiringly. "A year and two months," he replied to her unspoken question.
"Wow. That makes my moping after five months just seem silly."
He smiled at her. "I wouldn't say so. If you cared about the person, they always hurt, no matter who broke up with whom."
"So, what's my day like today?" she asked, a weary smile on her face despite the fact that it was not even nine in the morning yet.
"Not too much to worry about. A floo meeting with the Minister to check over a few things before they're run in tomorrow's paper, a couple new people have applied for the internship, and-." He faltered. "Oh," he said quietly, his voice dropping down an octave.
"What?"
"Apparently Rockwell just slithered his way onto your schedule," he said, his lip curling slightly as he glared down at the planner. "I told Elizabeth to not make any appointments without me there," he muttered angrily. Hermione let out a giggle, and Jonathan's head snapped up.
"I've never seen you upset before, Jonathan," she said, smiling fondly at her assistant. He smiled reluctantly.
"Yeah, I try not to let my emotions get the best of me, but that new girl…she's frustrating. Not as frustrating as Rockwell though. You know, he came barging in here the other day, wanting to see you and have a meeting and creating this ruckus because he thought we were hiding you from him or some nonsense! He's just a-, an-"
"A complete arse?" she offered.
"Yes," replied Jonathan with a smile. "He is that indeed." He looked back at the planner as he walked back towards the office door. "Don't worry yourself – he's not getting in here today. A visit from that git is the last thing you need after last week."
Hermione smiled gratefully at him from her slumped position in her chair, realizing quite a bit late that she was still in her traveling cloak. "Thank you, Jonathan," she said softly.
"Anything for you, Hermione." He flashed her a smile before walking out, the door clicking shut behind him.
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"For the love of Merlin, I have a department to run! I only need to talk to her for a minute!"
"Sir, you have to make an appointment. Miss Granger was out of the office last week, so she is very busy right now. I'd be happy to make you an app-"
"I don't want an appointment. I just need to check with her on something!"
Hermione looked up from the draft she was reading over that was to be in tomorrow's paper and squinted as she tried to figure out whose voice that was speaking to her new intern. From what she could hear, the man was scaring Elizabeth. Hermione sighed. There went another intern that wasn't right for the job. She girl seemed to be terrified of confrontation and had burst into tears the other day when someone had shouted at her for sending them the wrong file. Of course, Hermione had had a few choice words with that person, who was now not welcome at the offices of the Daily Prophet, but she really needed someone who was a people person, but who would not crumble under the pressure of a stressful job such as this. She was watching the door, debating whether she should charm the door to be able to see through, when Jonathan slipped through, closing it behind him silently.
"Who-"
"Rockwell," Jonathan answered immediately. "Should I send him in?"
Hermione sighed. "Why not? I suppose it's better to get it over with."
Jonathan smiled and slipped out of the door once again. As she heard her assistant's voice join the conversation, she tucked away a stray curl that had fallen from her French twist and cleared her throat as she prepared for his entrance. Right as she began to straighten the piled of parchment on her desk, the door open and in walked Thomas Rockwell.
"Miss Granger, how nice to see you again," he said with a charming smile.
She stood and smiled at him, holding out her hand to shake his. "Hello, Mr. Rockwell. What can I help you with today?"
"Well," he said slowly as he sat down in the chair across from her, "my purpose today is twofold."
Hermione forced herself to not show her irritation – no doubt one of those reasons was yet another attempt to flirt with her. It was such a shame that he was so cocky; he really was remarkably good looking, with his short dark hair, his bright brown eyes, and his perfect teeth that seemed to gleam when he smiled, although she wanted to attribute that gleam to venom. Her mouth twitched into a smile at that last thought.
"Well, I wanted to get you up to date on some new changes that have come up for the next month's quidditch games, as the Republic of Czech just had to swap dates with Egypt, and now Portugal is giving us issues."
They talked for about half an hour, clearing up the new lineup for the national teams' games, as the World Cup would be coming up in a few months. The conversation had been amiable, and Hermione was surprised to find herself laughing every once and a while. 'Perhaps he's not such a git after all,' she thought as her quill whizzed across the page as she took down Kenya versus Ireland cancelled; Kenya versus Japan; Ireland to play Iceland first. After they had finished and she had looked over her notes a second time, she looked up at him.
"What was the second thing you wanted to talk about?"
He smiled again, that slow smile she had seen the day she had first met him, an almost predatory smile, possessive.
"You know the Minister's Ball is this weekend, right?"
Hermione froze. She had completely forgotten. And she had to go.
"Of course," she said casually, as if she was incredulous he had thought she had forgotten. "Why do you bring it up?"
"Who are you going with?"
Her jaw clenched. Oh no. Did he know about her breakup with Malcolm? Most people didn't – everyone in her office besides Jonathan had thought she had been on a business trip. How could he know? Or was he just fishing for an answer? He seemed to have noticed her hesitation and he spoke up, a small smile playing on his lips.
"What? Things not going well with your boyfriend?"
"Things are just fine, thank you," she said quickly.
"Really? Because I would love to spend the evening with you, Miss Granger."
'I bet you would,' thought Hermione scathingly, watching him run a hand across his ridiculously perfect jaw. Why did all the good looking ones have to be complete cads?
"Well, I'm flattered," she said with a smile, ignoring the fact that this statement was not actually true, "But I already have a date." She stood and held out her hand. "It's been nice talking to you, Mr. Rockwell. Thank you for the updates on the matches."
He hesitated for a moment, a look of surprise on his face, before he recovered and rose, smiling as he grasped her hand in his own.
"Always a pleasure, Miss Granger."
He smiled and turned, leaving her alone in her office. She sat down heavily in her chair and stared at the closed door. Now where in the world was she going to find a date for this stupid ball?
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Thank you again for sticking with me! I really really appreciate it!
3 Cat
