And here we go again. I'm surprised I even got reviews on this story. I've
got to warn you though, most of the chapter was written under the influence
of Aerosmith.
*********'
Hermione held on tightly, willing the world to stop spinning. She felt like the ground had been pulled out from under her, and she was falling freely. It almost made her nauseous. When the scenery finally stopped moving, and she ground was steady again, she let go, and much to her surprise, she found herself standing outside the airport.
This was surprising since it was a Muggle airport, therefore filled with Muggles, thus making it impossible to Apparate in without being seen. Or so she had thought. She was just about to ask about it, when she realized they were standing very close together. Blushing, she let go quickly.
Bill didn't seem to notice, however; he was looking around for something. Suddenly, he apparently spotted it. He grabbed her hand and dragged her after him. She could do nothing but try to keep on her feet while clutching her trunk desperately. Bill dodged several Muggles while she did her best to keep up with him, not that she had any choice in the matter, unless she wanted her hand ripped off by accident.
When he finally stopped again, they were standing close to what she assumed was the gate they were leaving from. She steadied herself and stood up straight. Bill was still holding on to her hand, and she saw no reason to let go, since he was the one who knew where they were going.
"There you are, Mr Crossley. Nice to meet you again. This is my assistant, Hermione Granger." Bill said, smiling at a short brown-haired man, apparently named Crossley.
"Pleasure. Here's the tickets." Crossley mumbled and handed him two tickets.
He looked like he'd rather be somewhere else, preferably the Leaky Cauldron, drinking Fire-Whiskey, than here at a Muggle airport, handing tickets to them. He seemed to have a perpetually displeased expression on his face.
"Thank you, Mr Crossley." Bill said brightly, and dragged Hermione along with him away from there.
"I can't stand that man." He muttered when they were out of earshot.
"What?" She asked, surprised. "But you didn't act like it."
"Of course not. Crossley enjoys making everyone's life a living hell, just because he can. He takes himself overly seriously, believing that he is right about everything he talks about, no matter what, and that everyone else are idiots that should grovel at his feet. He likes to think of himself as my superior, but he isn't. I can't stand it, and the best way to annoy him is treating him like you're enormously happy all the time, and ignore his remarks about how gloomy everything is. It works rather well, if I do say so myself." He finished his explanation.
"Bill, you're unbelievable." She stated, shaking her head.
"Of course I'm unbelievable; I'm Bill Weasley, after all." He grinned.
*****'
Half an hour later, they were sitting in their seat on the plane, waiting for it to take off. The ride would take a few hours, and Hermione had pulled out a book and started reading. Bill was having a hard time with his long legs, but he managed to sit somewhat comfortably. He glanced over at her, and smiled amusedly when he saw she was reading.
"What're you reading?" He asked.
She looked up, startled, for she had been very deep into her book.
"Oh, it's called Exile's Honour. It's a fantasy novel, written by an author I found over the last summer." She explained.
"Oh. Any good?" He asked.
"Oh, yes, definitely." She said.
After a short explanation of what ´fantasy-novel´ meant, she went back to her book. Bill pulled out a newspaper he had picked up earlier and began to read too. Silence descended between them, and even though Hermione had a lot of questions, she knew better than to ask them in the presence of Muggles.
******'
Hermione stretched her back. She had fallen asleep somewhere along the way, and had developed a horrible crick in her neck. Bill had woken her up just before they landed, and now she was standing with him just outside the airport, while he was staring at a map of Rome, trying to figure out the fastest way to get to their destination.
"Ah, there it is! Come on, I know where we're going now." Bill said, smiling broadly.
"You mean you didn't before?" She teased.
"You mean you thought I did?" He shot back, winking.
She laughed. She was rapidly becoming more comfortable in Bill's company, and the same could be said for him. When he'd picked her up at her house, he had been rather formal, overlooking his use of her nickname, but now, he seemed to throw a joke at her at every turn.
They started walking towards where the magical part of Rome was, according to Bill's map. He explained how it would be like as they walked.
"Here in Rome, the magical area of the city has been divided into several districts. Most of the native wizards live among the Muggle community, which makes the Italian Ministry of Magic's work a lot harder, but those who refuse to live near Muggles live in the Italian district in the magical areas."
"´Italian district´?" She asked, puzzled.
"Yeah. The magical area is divided into districts according to which country the inhabitants come from. There's a French one, a German one, a Spanish one, and of course, an English one. There are a few wizards who live in districts where wizards from other countries live, of course, it's not like it can be avoided, but most choose to live with their fellow countrymen. We'll be staying in the English district, of course."
"Of course. How come it's divided like this?" Hermione asked her curiosity peaked.
"Don't know, actually. Maybe we can find out before we leave." He shrugged. "So anyway, each district has its own name, in the inhabitant's language. The English one is called Fiddler's Fair." He continued his explanation.
They had now reached a broad street with a small alley on the right side of it. All the Muggles seemed to be oblivious of the alley, judging by the way their eyes passed right over it without stopping.
The alley was narrow and crooked, the brick walls on both sides of it leaning dangerously into each other. It didn't look much different from any other alley she'd ever seen, but the robed people that passed on the other side of it sent off a warning bell in her head.
"Fiddler's Fair is thankfully the district closest to the Muggle neighbourhood, so we won't have to walk very far when we're leaving. The foreign wizards seem to have a problem with Muggles that English wizards simply don't have." Bill remarked.
"Malfoy has a problem with Muggles." She pointed out.
"Yeah, but Malfoy's are originally from France. I read it somewhere." He explained quickly when he saw her expression.
She would ask where he'd read that, but just then they passed through into Fiddler's Fair, and whatever thoughts she'd had before was effectively wiped from her mind. Diagon Alley had been breathtaking the first time, but Fiddler's Fair was mind-blowing. Everywhere she looked; there was something that caught her eye, making her look twice, or simply gape.
Robe shops, apothecaries and book stores shared the space with stores that would have made Hagrid gasp in awe of all the magical creatures that fought for attention in the windows. At the end of the street was a wand-shop, much like the one Ollivander had in Diagon Alley, and at the other end was a tavern, resembling the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade.
She could have spent the whole day standing there, just gaping at the various stores and drooling, if Bill hadn't caught her hand and pulled her towards a building the left of them, chuckling at her expression.
"This is Fiddler Street; we just came through Peddler's Alley." He explained.
"How come the district's named Fiddler's Fair anyway?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, there was this English wizard called Joshua Fiddler, who lived here a few hundred years ago, and he held this annual market. Over the years, it became know as Fiddler's Fair, and soon, people began to refer to the whole district by that name. That's why there are street names here like Cattledrive Road and Merchant's Quarter." He explained, gesturing to the various streets and alleys around them.
"Oh." Was all she could reply with.
"There it is!" Bill exclaimed, pointing to an Inn in front of them.
Over the door was a large sign that proclaimed to the world that this was the ´Swan and Dragon´. They entered, Hermione still dragging her trunk behind her. She wondered where Bill had his baggage, but had no time to ask.
****'
It took a few moments before her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside, but after a while, she could see the interior clearly. There were a few tables grouped in front of a fireplace, which was burning despite the warmth outside, and at the back of the room was reception that doubled as a bar. Behind it stood an old man who resembled Tom of the Leaky Cauldron too much for it to be mere chance. But then again, most barkeeps of the world resembled Tom to some degree.
Bill dragged her towards the bar, and smiled at the old man. Hermione stood up straight again, and made sure she still had all her body parts in the right place.
"Hello, we should have a room booked, in the name William Weasley." Bill told the man.
The man nodded and started looking through a thick book in front of him that apparently held the room-bookings. Hermione looked at Bill with one eyebrow raised. So his real name was William, then. That was an interesting revelation. Of course she had known that his name wasn't Bill, long before he told her it was just a nickname, but she hadn't even guessed at his real name before now.
"Yes, yes, you are right here. Peter here will take you upstairs." The old man said and gestured to a young boy behind the counter.
Hermione smiled at the boy, albeit a bit forced. It wasn't his fault; it was just that she was uneasy in the company of anyone named Peter, because they reminded her of Peter Pettigrew. Voldemort had been defeated the year previous, and during the last battle, she had been faced with Peter Pettigrew. He had been the most unpleasant, most disgusting person she knew of, second only to Voldemort. Not even Lucius Malfoy reached his level of unpleasantness.
Bill smiled and shook hands with the boy. Hermione didn't, not only because of his name, but because she was interrupted by a huge yawn. She put her hand over her mouth and blushed a bit, but Bill only smiled and relieved her of her trunk and followed Peter up the stairs. Hermione shook her head and followed suit.
Both of them were exhausted after the flight, and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. The excitement of seeing Fiddler' Fair in all its glory had evaporated as soon as they stepped into the Swan and Dragon, leaving her close to sleep-walking.
Peter led them to the end of the hallways and gave them the key to the door. He expressed his gratitude for them staying at this particular Inn, which sounded fake through and through, and left them alone again. Bill unlocked the door and they walked inside.
"I booked two adjoining rooms for us, with one room in between. Being a Gringotts employee does have some advantages." He grinned.
His grin faded quickly though, when he saw the room they'd gotten. There were two adjoining rooms alright, but only one bedroom. He stared at it for a moment before turning to Hermione.
"They seem to have gotten the bookings mixed up." He told her. "I would get angry and go shout at them, but I'm just too tired right now, and besides, there are two beds in the bedroom instead of one, so we're not really in an emergency."
"Oh. That's alright, then." Hermione mumbled, too tired to really pay attention.
Bill chuckled at her, despite the situation. He put down her trunk on the floor and looked around.
"Well, we better get some sleep now. We can start working tomorrow, since you're too tired to see straight right now." He declared.
Hermione could only nod. She set off towards the bathroom that came with the rooms and brushed her teeth before heading to the bedroom. Being the daughter of two dentists, the habit of brushing her teeth before going to bed was too powerful to ignore.
She collapsed on one of the beds, and was asleep before her head hit the pillow. She was dead to the world and therefore didn't notice Bill smiling at her from the doorway, and throwing a blanket over her before heading to his own bed.
****'
Ending Notes: The book Hermione reads in this chapter, Exile's Honour, is by a writer named Mercedes Lackey. It's really good, you should read it some time. Hopefully, this chapter was good enough. I'm rather pleased with it. Please read and review.
*********'
Hermione held on tightly, willing the world to stop spinning. She felt like the ground had been pulled out from under her, and she was falling freely. It almost made her nauseous. When the scenery finally stopped moving, and she ground was steady again, she let go, and much to her surprise, she found herself standing outside the airport.
This was surprising since it was a Muggle airport, therefore filled with Muggles, thus making it impossible to Apparate in without being seen. Or so she had thought. She was just about to ask about it, when she realized they were standing very close together. Blushing, she let go quickly.
Bill didn't seem to notice, however; he was looking around for something. Suddenly, he apparently spotted it. He grabbed her hand and dragged her after him. She could do nothing but try to keep on her feet while clutching her trunk desperately. Bill dodged several Muggles while she did her best to keep up with him, not that she had any choice in the matter, unless she wanted her hand ripped off by accident.
When he finally stopped again, they were standing close to what she assumed was the gate they were leaving from. She steadied herself and stood up straight. Bill was still holding on to her hand, and she saw no reason to let go, since he was the one who knew where they were going.
"There you are, Mr Crossley. Nice to meet you again. This is my assistant, Hermione Granger." Bill said, smiling at a short brown-haired man, apparently named Crossley.
"Pleasure. Here's the tickets." Crossley mumbled and handed him two tickets.
He looked like he'd rather be somewhere else, preferably the Leaky Cauldron, drinking Fire-Whiskey, than here at a Muggle airport, handing tickets to them. He seemed to have a perpetually displeased expression on his face.
"Thank you, Mr Crossley." Bill said brightly, and dragged Hermione along with him away from there.
"I can't stand that man." He muttered when they were out of earshot.
"What?" She asked, surprised. "But you didn't act like it."
"Of course not. Crossley enjoys making everyone's life a living hell, just because he can. He takes himself overly seriously, believing that he is right about everything he talks about, no matter what, and that everyone else are idiots that should grovel at his feet. He likes to think of himself as my superior, but he isn't. I can't stand it, and the best way to annoy him is treating him like you're enormously happy all the time, and ignore his remarks about how gloomy everything is. It works rather well, if I do say so myself." He finished his explanation.
"Bill, you're unbelievable." She stated, shaking her head.
"Of course I'm unbelievable; I'm Bill Weasley, after all." He grinned.
*****'
Half an hour later, they were sitting in their seat on the plane, waiting for it to take off. The ride would take a few hours, and Hermione had pulled out a book and started reading. Bill was having a hard time with his long legs, but he managed to sit somewhat comfortably. He glanced over at her, and smiled amusedly when he saw she was reading.
"What're you reading?" He asked.
She looked up, startled, for she had been very deep into her book.
"Oh, it's called Exile's Honour. It's a fantasy novel, written by an author I found over the last summer." She explained.
"Oh. Any good?" He asked.
"Oh, yes, definitely." She said.
After a short explanation of what ´fantasy-novel´ meant, she went back to her book. Bill pulled out a newspaper he had picked up earlier and began to read too. Silence descended between them, and even though Hermione had a lot of questions, she knew better than to ask them in the presence of Muggles.
******'
Hermione stretched her back. She had fallen asleep somewhere along the way, and had developed a horrible crick in her neck. Bill had woken her up just before they landed, and now she was standing with him just outside the airport, while he was staring at a map of Rome, trying to figure out the fastest way to get to their destination.
"Ah, there it is! Come on, I know where we're going now." Bill said, smiling broadly.
"You mean you didn't before?" She teased.
"You mean you thought I did?" He shot back, winking.
She laughed. She was rapidly becoming more comfortable in Bill's company, and the same could be said for him. When he'd picked her up at her house, he had been rather formal, overlooking his use of her nickname, but now, he seemed to throw a joke at her at every turn.
They started walking towards where the magical part of Rome was, according to Bill's map. He explained how it would be like as they walked.
"Here in Rome, the magical area of the city has been divided into several districts. Most of the native wizards live among the Muggle community, which makes the Italian Ministry of Magic's work a lot harder, but those who refuse to live near Muggles live in the Italian district in the magical areas."
"´Italian district´?" She asked, puzzled.
"Yeah. The magical area is divided into districts according to which country the inhabitants come from. There's a French one, a German one, a Spanish one, and of course, an English one. There are a few wizards who live in districts where wizards from other countries live, of course, it's not like it can be avoided, but most choose to live with their fellow countrymen. We'll be staying in the English district, of course."
"Of course. How come it's divided like this?" Hermione asked her curiosity peaked.
"Don't know, actually. Maybe we can find out before we leave." He shrugged. "So anyway, each district has its own name, in the inhabitant's language. The English one is called Fiddler's Fair." He continued his explanation.
They had now reached a broad street with a small alley on the right side of it. All the Muggles seemed to be oblivious of the alley, judging by the way their eyes passed right over it without stopping.
The alley was narrow and crooked, the brick walls on both sides of it leaning dangerously into each other. It didn't look much different from any other alley she'd ever seen, but the robed people that passed on the other side of it sent off a warning bell in her head.
"Fiddler's Fair is thankfully the district closest to the Muggle neighbourhood, so we won't have to walk very far when we're leaving. The foreign wizards seem to have a problem with Muggles that English wizards simply don't have." Bill remarked.
"Malfoy has a problem with Muggles." She pointed out.
"Yeah, but Malfoy's are originally from France. I read it somewhere." He explained quickly when he saw her expression.
She would ask where he'd read that, but just then they passed through into Fiddler's Fair, and whatever thoughts she'd had before was effectively wiped from her mind. Diagon Alley had been breathtaking the first time, but Fiddler's Fair was mind-blowing. Everywhere she looked; there was something that caught her eye, making her look twice, or simply gape.
Robe shops, apothecaries and book stores shared the space with stores that would have made Hagrid gasp in awe of all the magical creatures that fought for attention in the windows. At the end of the street was a wand-shop, much like the one Ollivander had in Diagon Alley, and at the other end was a tavern, resembling the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade.
She could have spent the whole day standing there, just gaping at the various stores and drooling, if Bill hadn't caught her hand and pulled her towards a building the left of them, chuckling at her expression.
"This is Fiddler Street; we just came through Peddler's Alley." He explained.
"How come the district's named Fiddler's Fair anyway?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, there was this English wizard called Joshua Fiddler, who lived here a few hundred years ago, and he held this annual market. Over the years, it became know as Fiddler's Fair, and soon, people began to refer to the whole district by that name. That's why there are street names here like Cattledrive Road and Merchant's Quarter." He explained, gesturing to the various streets and alleys around them.
"Oh." Was all she could reply with.
"There it is!" Bill exclaimed, pointing to an Inn in front of them.
Over the door was a large sign that proclaimed to the world that this was the ´Swan and Dragon´. They entered, Hermione still dragging her trunk behind her. She wondered where Bill had his baggage, but had no time to ask.
****'
It took a few moments before her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside, but after a while, she could see the interior clearly. There were a few tables grouped in front of a fireplace, which was burning despite the warmth outside, and at the back of the room was reception that doubled as a bar. Behind it stood an old man who resembled Tom of the Leaky Cauldron too much for it to be mere chance. But then again, most barkeeps of the world resembled Tom to some degree.
Bill dragged her towards the bar, and smiled at the old man. Hermione stood up straight again, and made sure she still had all her body parts in the right place.
"Hello, we should have a room booked, in the name William Weasley." Bill told the man.
The man nodded and started looking through a thick book in front of him that apparently held the room-bookings. Hermione looked at Bill with one eyebrow raised. So his real name was William, then. That was an interesting revelation. Of course she had known that his name wasn't Bill, long before he told her it was just a nickname, but she hadn't even guessed at his real name before now.
"Yes, yes, you are right here. Peter here will take you upstairs." The old man said and gestured to a young boy behind the counter.
Hermione smiled at the boy, albeit a bit forced. It wasn't his fault; it was just that she was uneasy in the company of anyone named Peter, because they reminded her of Peter Pettigrew. Voldemort had been defeated the year previous, and during the last battle, she had been faced with Peter Pettigrew. He had been the most unpleasant, most disgusting person she knew of, second only to Voldemort. Not even Lucius Malfoy reached his level of unpleasantness.
Bill smiled and shook hands with the boy. Hermione didn't, not only because of his name, but because she was interrupted by a huge yawn. She put her hand over her mouth and blushed a bit, but Bill only smiled and relieved her of her trunk and followed Peter up the stairs. Hermione shook her head and followed suit.
Both of them were exhausted after the flight, and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. The excitement of seeing Fiddler' Fair in all its glory had evaporated as soon as they stepped into the Swan and Dragon, leaving her close to sleep-walking.
Peter led them to the end of the hallways and gave them the key to the door. He expressed his gratitude for them staying at this particular Inn, which sounded fake through and through, and left them alone again. Bill unlocked the door and they walked inside.
"I booked two adjoining rooms for us, with one room in between. Being a Gringotts employee does have some advantages." He grinned.
His grin faded quickly though, when he saw the room they'd gotten. There were two adjoining rooms alright, but only one bedroom. He stared at it for a moment before turning to Hermione.
"They seem to have gotten the bookings mixed up." He told her. "I would get angry and go shout at them, but I'm just too tired right now, and besides, there are two beds in the bedroom instead of one, so we're not really in an emergency."
"Oh. That's alright, then." Hermione mumbled, too tired to really pay attention.
Bill chuckled at her, despite the situation. He put down her trunk on the floor and looked around.
"Well, we better get some sleep now. We can start working tomorrow, since you're too tired to see straight right now." He declared.
Hermione could only nod. She set off towards the bathroom that came with the rooms and brushed her teeth before heading to the bedroom. Being the daughter of two dentists, the habit of brushing her teeth before going to bed was too powerful to ignore.
She collapsed on one of the beds, and was asleep before her head hit the pillow. She was dead to the world and therefore didn't notice Bill smiling at her from the doorway, and throwing a blanket over her before heading to his own bed.
****'
Ending Notes: The book Hermione reads in this chapter, Exile's Honour, is by a writer named Mercedes Lackey. It's really good, you should read it some time. Hopefully, this chapter was good enough. I'm rather pleased with it. Please read and review.