Gifted Touch
Walking into her apartment, Hermione collapsed onto her couch. Flicking up one leg, her left pump went flying across the room behind her, narrowly missing the figure walking through the doorway.
"Geez Hermione. You could take an eye out with one of those things," a voice said behind her.
"Hello Harry," she replied without opening her eyes.
"Seriously sweety, these things are four inches high."
"Well they make me feel taller," she rebutted, "Without them I'm only 5' 4"."
Harry smiled. "Well you're lucky. You're all legs."
Hermione gave a very unfeminine snort as he moved her legs off the couch so that he could sit down.
"How'd the interview with Malfoy go?" he asked, massaging her calves lightly with his fingers.
"I got the job," she mumbled.
"Well, that's fantastic! You, however, don't seem incredibly excited."
Hermione sighed. "I spent seven years being tortured by him and that was only when we walked into each other in the halls or when we had the same classes. Now I work for the man," she ran her hands over her face, "What have I gotten myself into?"
Harry gathered his forlorn friend into his arms, her wild hair finally breaking out of its constraining bun at the back of her head. "Not to worry 'Mione. I'll be here for you no matter what." He kissed the top of her head.
"Thanks Harry. You're the best friend a girl could have."