A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update this story – took me literally years – but some people have been really persistent over the years and reviewed/messaged me to update this, so I thought… hmm… maybe this story wasn't so bad at all? And I have always enjoyed writing, so I can maybe continue this hobby. ;)
I've made a completely new outline for the plot and characters as I cannot remember what my original plan/idea was. You may want to reread the last 2 chapters as I've connected a few points from there… Hope to update sooner. Chapter 10 is almost done.
Chapter 9 – Don't avoid your boss, because she'll come for you
Amanda felt for a quick moment an unpleasant, tugging sensation in her stomach like being squeezed through a hollow core rubber. This made her more nauseous than before but having just emptied her stomach, now she was about to vomit her intestines square in the midst of Hermione Granger's corridor. Her legs gave in when she landed on solid ground, feeling warm tiles underneath her bare feet.
She let go of her boss' firm grip after opening her eyes and blinking, staggering over to the familiar living room, and slumping on the sofa. She was so exhausted, tired; she'd literally could just close her eyes and sleep on the spot.
"Merlin! Apparition isn't really my first choice of transportation!" Amanda said sufferingly, pulling her legs to her body. "I prefer public transportation; the old Muggle way!"
"Well, I wouldn't have minded taking an hour-long ride with you," Hermione said, putting a blanket over Amanda, "but I wasn't sure how'd people react to a passed out young woman, levitating in mid-air in front of me."
Amanda heard Hermione walk into the kitchen, where a clattering and rattling sound came from the door gap. Cupboards opened and closed, mugs and pans floated through the air, as Hermione continued to swing her wand, like a conductor, directing an orchestral with the elegant gestures of her hands and wand, as more utensils, even herbs and spices and fresh ingredients came flying to her, arranging themselves in their designated places.
Amanda was astounded by how simple and flawless magic could be when executed flawlessly. She prayed she could be as skilled in magic as her boss, so that spells and curses would never again backfire on her. She thought back to that one time when she, as inebriated as she was, lit her gas stove with magic and accidentally set her dress and her kitchen on fire. Amanda's aged, crinkly neighbor had rushed to her aid after seeing the burning scent and smoke coming from her flat. After extinguishing the flame, the old witch had repaired Amanda's flesh with a flick of her wand, had put herbal pastes to the damaged skin, and had cared for Amanda until she recovered. Amanda still had this little, hardly noticeable scar on her collarbone that reminded her of her foolishness in never using magic when inebriated.
Since then, the elderly lady had been watching over her, monitoring her every move, keeping an eye out for her, and becoming suspicious of anybody who came by for a visit. Just to make sure her "Mattie" was okay. Later, Amanda had discovered that the elderly lady had a half-pet kneazle with red fur that had perished in a fire, and its name was "Mattie."
Amanda opened her eyes to a delightful fragrance and watched Hermione place a bowl of soup and a wooden spoon on the coffee table in front of her. Then, with another flick of her wand, two cups appeared from the kitchen, delicately settling in front of each of them. With its dark brown to reddish brown color, the tea reminded Amanda of black tea, but the texture was distinct, with a mucilaginous character.
How is this drinkable?
"This is Slippery Elm tea," Hermione explained, "since you've been nauseous all day, this tea works wonders, trust me. It's nutritive, used when your stomach won't tolerate usual meal. It's soothing to the gastrointestinal tract." Hermione moved beside her, encouraging her to try, "and, it's with cinnamon and honey."
Amanda hesitated. "And what's in the soup?"
"It's just vegetables and broth," Hermione said.
Having retched all day, not knowing how to comfort her upset stomach, being tired from lack of sleep, and having not had a solid meal since yesterday morning, Amanda gently and carefully sampled the tea first. To her astonishment, it tasted even better than she had expected. It reminded her of the quality of her favorite superfood, oatmeal. She shuddered in humiliation as she felt her stomach growl loudly.
"Sorry," she said shyly, "hmm… I've never heard of Slippery Elm before."
"I see. So you're not as Muggle as you wish to be." Hermione mused, sipping her own tea. "Actually, I had an upset stomach myself, too. It was only a few days ago. I assumed I had a cold. I felt better after drinking this tea."
This time, Amanda sampled the soup. It satisfied her empty stomach and filled her body with a soothing warmth from within. She immediately felt better.
*,*,*
Amanda took her smartphone from the coffee table after an hour of conversing about work, coworkers, the Wizarding world, and general lifestyles – but avoiding personal and intimate matters – while cuddling under her blanket on Hermione's sofa. Realizing the late hour, she sprang to her feet, collected her belongings, and searched for her wand. For a few seconds, she felt her head spin.
"Okay, maybe you'd like to Apparate me back to my flat?" Amanda said, clutching her head, then shyly staring at her own wand, feeling like an inept witch, "Because I'm afraid I might get splinched."
"Why'd you think I'll let you go home in this state? You'll stay," Hermione said softly, "You can have the guestroom. There's a nice bed, and floor heating. You even have your own bathroom."
"But… I don't want to trouble you, Miss... Hermione," she hurriedly corrected. Amanda lowered her gaze and fiddled with the tips of her locks that dropped from her shoulders. She became self-conscious, thinking about how she must have smelt like a stinky troll after not showering for a day. "And thank you very much for taking care of me," she said politely.
Hermione raised to her own feet, looking up at Amanda.
Amanda couldn't take her gaze away from those gorgeous hazel-brown eyes.
"You'll stay," Hermione said, more firmly this time, "and if you feel better by tomorrow, then I'll Apparate you home. I promise."
*,*,*
The next morning, Amanda awakened to a delicious smell of pancakes and bacon, which made her stomach groan loudly. Rolling on her side towards the enormous window, where rays of sunlight shone through the shutters, Amanda reflected about the previous night and of all the nice gestures Hermione had done for her.
Hermione not only had offered Amanda her guestroom, but she had also made the younger woman feel at ease. She had magically transformed some of her personal possessions into towels, care items, slippers, and clothing that Amanda could use. For example, resizing her pajamas to fit Amanda. Amanda had utilized her own magical abilities to complete the rest of the tasks.
Hermione had probably even checked on Amanda during the night since Amanda remembered hearing the door open and close while she was half asleep. She'd felt a gentle touch on her forehead and soothing murmurs. And on the bedside table this morning, there was a glass of water and mint essential oil with a short note that said,
'In case you still feel queasy, apply on temple and neck,' with a smiley and her boss' initials.
Amanda smiled at the gesture.
The guestroom was nice and tidy, with walls painted in basic indigo blue to navy blue tones and furnishings in a blend of glossy and matte eggshell white. On one wall, for example, there were shelves with plants hanging freely from them that were filled with various types of literature. Small drawings of individuals Amanda didn't recognize were displayed underneath the shelves. Because the paintings were not magical, the individuals in them did not move. On the opposite corner was a white cabinet, and on the righthand side, below the large window, was a desk and a black office chair that stood out from the rest. There were no personal items on the desk.
Amanda headed to the kitchen after a brief shower and changing into a shirt and jogging trousers, where Hermione had just placed plates on the kitchen table with her back to Amanda. Without a wand, of course. She didn't employ any magic. She made the pancakes with what Amanda recognized as a spatula while dancing carelessly in her pajama top, which barely covered her thin thighs. Amanda saw her boss was wearing headphones over her ears, with quiet, muted rhythms and bass escaping. She didn't notice Amanda standing there, staring at her in awe and admiration.
Hermione tossed the pan, and the pancake sailed through the air and landed on its other side, the top looking golden brown and just like a commercial pancake.
Amanda found the entire sight in front of her surreal: Hermione, her boss, dancing to music only she could hear. Her hair was fastened to a charming, sloppy bun, loose strands trailing behind her headset, and her clean, crease-free blue-white pajama top worn sloppily, which did not fit her female boss' overall office image. Then there were those silky, gorgeous legs, which Amanda had to angle her head slightly to get a better look at. Then Amanda discovered her feet were adorned in pink Pygmy Puff-style slippers, she couldn't help but smile.
How could Amanda be angry, let alone wounded, at such a lovely, caring, and beautiful woman?
She reminded herself: This woman had humiliated her in front of colleagues, most likely even in front of clients, and other employers. In their common workplace. Amanda was left feeling foolish, worthless, and like an idiot.
An idiot.
Just how her mother had made her feel. Just how her mother used to call her.
Amanda closed her eyes to ban those memories.
"There. Was that so hard?" Amanda heard Hermione's voice echo in her head, that moment in front of all those people, her hazel-brown eyes staring angrily at her, "Can't you, just for once, stand up for yourself?"
This woman had belittled her professionalism. Her intelligence.
"…all your great talents gone wasted when you decided to become a secretary…" Again, Hermione's voice. Pulsing in Amanda's ears.
This woman had pushed her away countless times, only to return, pleading with her to stay. Hermione had been coldhearted at one time, only to draw her back and kiss her passionately the next.
This woman is playing with your emotions. She is taking advantage of you. She doesn't care about you.
But, on the other hand, she brought you into her house and cared for you.
Or maybe…
There were two reasons that bothered Amanda the most. The things upsetting Amanda, and the reasons she hoped and wanted to loathe this lady from the bottom of her heart…
Hermione was in love with someone else. And this person was not being her.
It's Draco-fucking-compulsive-cheater-smugface-Malfoy.
And the second reason.
Amanda was falling for Hermione Granger. It was no longer merely a girlish infatuation.
*,*,*
Hermione had been dancing cheerfully in her kitchen, her head gently bobbing to the music's soothing rhythms. She had risen early – the digital clock read: 7:13 a.m. – and had planned to make pancakes for her "guest" and then surprise this person with a surprise breakfast. Hermione thought to herself as she stirred the batter and then poured it into the pan, "I still have to shower and get dressed."
She turned around to trap Amanda in her doorframe while flinging the last pancake into the air and deftly catching it with the pan. The younger woman's facial expressions reflected a wide range of emotions.
"Amanda!" she yelled, returning the hot pan to the stove. She took off her headphones. "You've gotten up early. I'm sorry if I woke you up."
Amanda shook her head, as if she had only now seen Hermione. "No, not at all. That looks and smells amazing," she replied, gesturing at the full dish of golden-brown pancakes garnished with strawberry slices and crispy bacon on the side. There were also two glasses of orange juice and mugs of Slippery Elm tea. "By the way, nice legs."
Hermione rushed out of the kitchen, blushing crimson, only to return minutes later to Amanda, having magically showered and dressed in slim jeans and a white shirt. Her wavy, glossy hair was now pulled back into a ponytail, and her wand dangled from under her arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to get up this early."
They ate in complete silence. Hermione observed Amanda breaking her pancakes into bite-sized pieces and then sandwiching bacon slices between them with a fork and knife, like a mini-pancake-bacon-burger. Hermione smiled at this type of eating behavior since it reminded her of how she used to eat as a child.
"What is it?" Amanda asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I find it interesting how you eat," Hermione said, without more explanation. She was reading the Daily Prophet and had moved on to the next page. "By the way, how is your stomach?"
"Better, I guess. I feel like I haven't eaten in days."
Hermione and Amanda each took their own cups and sipped simultaneously, both staring into each other's eyes. Then they burst into fits of giggles.
"If you wish, you may stay for another night," Hermione said after a little pause, studying the Daily Prophet. "Just to make sure you're completely well."
Amanda didn't say anything at first, only a half-smile on her lips. "That's... thoughtful of you, ma'am... Hermione. But I suppose I'll decline that offer. I can't possibly trouble you for much longer."
"If you were a bother then I wouldn't be asking."
"Don't you have other… better plans for the weekend than to look after your ill employee?"
"My other plans would be to finish my draft pleadings for the Milton case," Hermione said matter-of-factly, "so you may work on transcribing and proofreading it after you return to work."
Amanda lowered her gaze to her plate. There was the bossy, office-Granger again everybody feared and respected.
"Or, we can have a fun Saturday together," Hermione said softly, smiling, "you decide."
*,*,*
Both women had a pleasant and cheerful Saturday, laughing till their eyes welled up and their sides hurt. They traveled to several locations, using public transit, something Amanda had always wanted to do because she disliked Apparition. The view of the city from the famed London bus deck had been breathtaking.
They'd tried Otherworld in Haggerston, a virtual escape room where you could fly in space or to other solar systems, fight mythical creatures, and explore other worlds and realities. It was magically altered, so you sat in a booth and witnessed everything that happened in "real life" in front of you, except that you escaped uninjured. They had shared a tiny booth, shrieking and screeching as they battled gigantic, fire-breathing dragons, Sea Serpents, or swarms of Firedrakes with nothing more than Muggle artillery.
They then had visited The Viktor Wynd Museum of Curiosities, Fine Arts & UnNatural History. It was fascinating to learn how Muggle perceived, described, and labeled everything art-related, such as occultist's paintings and pop arts, doodles, etchings, and even some stuffed magical creatures that Amanda had recognized, displayed, and labeled as "rare," "banal," or "amusing" in some of the drawers and showcases. It said that the creatures had not been injured or killed but had instead been discovered in certain areas.
They'd later agreed to take a brief tour of the Sky Garden, have supper there, and reminisce about their time at Hogwarts, about the guys they'd dated, until the topic went back to the present and the mood shifted significantly. Both women went silent as they listened to the live music in the background.
"I'm not in love," Hermione had said, and Amanda's reply had been to look at her, puzzled. "…with Malfoy. I'm not in love with him", she clarified, spinning the wine in her glass. "Everyone thinks that. But it's not true. And I'm not pretending that I am not in love. I'm not denying my feelings either."
Hermione had gradually opened up at that point, for reasons unknown to Amanda. "He was my first love," she had said, sipping her wine, "but his parents would never have approved of our relationship, so we kept it a secret." The affair wasn't without its ups and downs, until one day..." Hermione halted, her gaze returning to the live band, the sound muted in Amanda's ears. "Malfoy made a proposal to me. We were both 17 years old and of legal Wizarding age, and I was in love, naive, and ignorant. So, we tied the knot."
"What?" Amanda exclaimed, as if she hadn't understood right.
"After graduation, I eventually realized that we couldn't keep that lie going, that we had to tell our family," Hermione continued, "but he didn't want that; he worried their disappointment, their fury, and being entirely shunned." As a result, we argued a lot. What, after all, was he expecting? That we'd be secretly married until old age, having secret babies, and later witnessing the commencement of our secret grandchildren?" Hermione had snorted. "His parents quickly found out about our secret marriage. They had it annulled, and I didn't know what to do at the time, whether they could do that. But it happened. As a result, we went separate ways. Ron and I started dating soon after, but it didn't last. I never mentioned my... divorce to anyone."
Amanda had simply sat and listened intently. Her face had remained expressionless, with no emotions or sensations visible.
Was this the reason Hermione Granger became a divorce attorney? To deal with her own dissolved marriage to the guy from whom she had been separated?
Several hours later, the sun had already set, and they had traveled back by a cab to Hermione's flat.
Nobody had said another word.
*,*,*
The next morning, Hermione Side-Along Apparated Amanda back to her place, as promised. They had attempted to act casually the entire time, even though Hermione appeared to be happier than ever. Smiling more, sharing more about herself. She had finally revealed her secret. Not to anyone, but especially to Amanda. Would it make her exceptional now, she wondered?
When they appeared in Amanda's flat, Hermione let go of the younger woman. Amanda thudded down on her makeshift bed, gripping her stomach from the sensation of being pushed through a tube while Apparating. She'd never get used to it, she thought.
"Thank you… for everything," Amanda began, gazing up at the older woman, attempting to get the word across. "I had a fantastic time with you… Hermione."
"Me, too. Who would've thought I could actually have a life outside the office?" Hermione pondered, rubbing her forehead, "Will you promise me you'll take care of yourself? You may, of course, take another day off tomorrow."
Amanda moved slightly to put a hand up and gently tug on Hermione's robe. She didn't know why she did it or whether Hermione would agree, but she sat down beside Amanda. Hermione dropped down quite clumsily because the makeshift bed was basically a mattress on the floor.
"That hurt," she whined, rubbing her backside. "For god's sake, why don't you have a normal bed?"
Amanda paused for a moment to reflect. Hermione had been honest with her, allowing Amanda to see snippets of her past, no matter how painful or difficult it was for her. She now understood Hermione better and on a deeper level. It was time for Amanda to open up about her background as well. That she would be honest with Hermione and disclose something personal about herself.
"Bradley Simms, my Hogwarts darling and now ex-boyfriend," Amanda murmured, her gaze fixed on her own feet. "He's… I've been... I..." She took a long breath, then felt Hermione's fingers gripping her shaking ones. Amanda felt the urge to go on.
"It was anything but a healthy relationship with him," Amanda shared, "he used to beat me."