Disclaimer- I own nothing
Author's note: Sorry it took so long. I have had computer problems. But it's all good now....I hope.
Gazy - Ahhhhh! I'm so(*sob) sorry(*sob-sob)! Please don't hurt me!
Chapter 12
A Message
Life for the next few days between Draco, Hermione, and even Ron continued as if nothing had ever happened. The project between Draco and Hermione was processing smoothly with only one month left to complete. They had checked on every financial key possible to start the store and only had to run the imaginary 'Just Around the Corner' for a year, which was already proving quite difficult for the argument-prone teens.
"How the hell am I supposed to know how many books we're gonna sell in a month!? It isn't even a real store!" Draco yelled as he slammed a heavy book on the worn oak table to emphasize his point.
"I thought you did research on that," Hermione said calmly.
"They don't have books on average yearly sales for every damn bookstore!
"But you said you—."
"No I didn't!"
"Fine!" she stood to yell back in his face, "If you feel like being difficult, I'll find it. You, meanwhile, can calculate the cost of utilities per month!"
"Well, it sure will be a lot easier than discovering the impossible!"
"You know, Dumbledore said we could talk to actual store owners," Hermione replied, frustrated and sat in her chair crossing her arm over her chest.
"You're the people person, so go talk to them."
"I will."
~*~*~*~*~
The next evening Hermione found herself walking through the pouring rain to Hogsmeade muttering wildly about how much she hated that git Malfoy.
"That lazy-ass couldn't research anything to save his life," Hermione said and gasped as another gust of icy wind penetrated her wool cape, "He'd better appreciate this."
A while after (too long in Hermione's opinion) she arrived to the Village, and searched for the bookshop, 'Agnes and Roy' to talk to Agnes Kern, the associate owner. She soon found it and pushed open the stained glass door to be welcomed by tinkling bells and a wave of warmth from the crackling hearth. There didn't seem to be anyone there, so Hermione called for assistance,
"Hello? Is any here? I'm Hermione Granger, and I need to talk to a 'Miss Kern' about a school project I'm doing."
No one answered.
Hermione was about to give up when a voice spoke from behind her.
"Hello there, child."
Hermione shrieked and turned to look at her attacker.
"I'm so sorry to frighten you, but I do believe I am the one you are looking for," the woman said kindly.
"Oh, yes well, you surprised me, that's all," Hermione said as she recovered herself.
The woman was very old. Her skin was milky pale but disgraced with folds and folds of wrinkles, and her figure was small and hunched, but her sharp violet eyes melted away any tell-tale sign of age that adorned her fragile body.
"You needed something," the crone asked politely.
"Um, I'm doing a project at school, where I have to run a bookshop for a year, and I was wondering if you could tell me about, on average, how many books you sell in a month."
"Why, I'd be glad to help! You can call me Agnes, by the way," the woman said holding out her shriveled hand for Hermione to shake.
"Hermione," she answered grasping the hand held before her.
"Ah, what a pretty name. Now to business. Hmm, let me think...." Agnes put a finger to her temple and frowned in contemplation, "I'd have to say about 967.228 books a month to be exact."
"Oh, thank you," Hermione said gratefully, "I asked Draco, the boy I'm working with, too find that number but, oh, he just won't do anything! I mean, the work was given to both of us, not just me, he hasn't done anythi—well, that isn't true. I guess he does do his fair share, but no after I remind him a million times a day!" she paused to catch her breath, "I'm really sorry to be pestering you. I guess I should be going."
"Oh no, you're perfectly fine. But you should go now, they're serving turkey for dinner in the Great Hall at the moment; you don't want to miss that."
"Darn! Stupid ferret making miss dinner now, and I'm starving. Thank you so much, Agnes, for all of your help; I really appreciate it."
"My pleasure, and one more tip before you go."
"Yes?" Hermione stopped as she approached the door.
"Be wary of dark alleys, deary."
"Um...thank you. Good-bye! And thanks again!" Hermione stepped outside only to discover that it was raining even harder than before.
'Be wary of dark alleys.'
~I wonder what she meant by that~ Hermione though to herself as she journeyed back to the castle. She was debating the idea of stopping by the Three Broomsticks to grab a quick butterbeer when two wet hands grabbed her from behind and dragged her screaming form into a nearby alley.
She was roughly shoved against a wall, and the two hands found there way to her throat.
"You scream or make a move and I break your neck, understand?" a dark husky voice said to her. Hermione nodded her head quickly in understanding.
"Good, I have a message for Mr. Malfoy that I need you to give him."
"Lucius?" she asked quietly with fear streamed from her eyes.
"No, you stupid girl! Draco! Draco Malfoy! When you get back to the castle, tell him his tutoring shall commence at this week's end beginning at the same starting line."
"Alright, I'll tell him. But what does it mean?" she whimpered.
"That doesn't concern you! Just tell him!"
He pushed her away from him into the empty street, disappearing into the shadows. Hermione rose and ran as fast as she could to her sanctuary. She could only imagine what this message meant for Draco, and it wasn't good.
~*~*~*~
Hermione ran to the doors of the Great Hall dripping wet and freezing cold. After a moment's contemplation, she decided it was best if she did not go inside, fearing too many question would be asked from Harry and Ron. Reconsidering her course of action, she darted to the owlry to send Draco a quick letter. Quickly, she scrawled something down on a spare piece of parchment, attached it to the nearest owl in reach, and ran off.
~*~
Draco was surprised when the auburn bird landing in front of his plate at the Slytherin table. It hooted at him annoyingly until he took the note from its claw. The owl flew off, and Draco read:
Meet me in our room, immediately. There is something extremely important I need to tell you.
The letter was messy and the ink was running on the damp paper, but Draco recognized it to be Hermione's handwriting. He looked up and noticed for the first time that she wasn't in her usual seat at the Gryffindor table. Dreading what he was about to face, he got up and walked to the room where they usually did their work. He assumed the note was about the project, so he wasn't worried.
~*~
Hermione pacing back and forth across the creaking floor when Draco walked through the threshold of the classroom. She ignored the very confused look on his face and ran to throw her arms around him.
"I'm so sorry," she mumbled into his shoulder, "I didn't see him. I couldn't fight."
"What the heck are you talking about, Granger?" he asked demandingly. He stiffened from her embrace, but didn't push her away entirely.
"She said–she told me to be wary of the dark alleys. I should've known. I should've left earlier!"
At this point, Draco was getting really annoyed. He firmly grasped the shaking girl's shoulders, and shook her, forcing her to look directly at him. He looked into her cold brown eyes and yelled,
"Hermione! Stop it! Calm down tell and tell me what happened!"
"He trapped me and told me to tell you to go to your 'tutoring' this Friday beginning at the same starting line," she cried.
"Who? Who told you this?"
"I don't know! I never got to see his face, but I think it was a Death Eater."
"Damn," was all he could say.
"Does this make any sense to you?" she asked as he loosened his hold on her.
"Yes," he replied coldly.
"I'm so sorry, Draco. This shouldn't be happening to you."
"I don't want your sympathy, Hermione, but," he looked into her eyes and said honestly, "thanks anyway."
"You're welcome, Draco." Hermione then stood on her toes to give him a slow kiss on the cheek and left to go to bed.
Author's Note: So did you like it? You better have. Anyway, review like usual. Please. And any ideas on the next chappie would be appreciated, because I have no earthly idea what I am going to do next.
Author's note: Sorry it took so long. I have had computer problems. But it's all good now....I hope.
Gazy - Ahhhhh! I'm so(*sob) sorry(*sob-sob)! Please don't hurt me!
Chapter 12
A Message
Life for the next few days between Draco, Hermione, and even Ron continued as if nothing had ever happened. The project between Draco and Hermione was processing smoothly with only one month left to complete. They had checked on every financial key possible to start the store and only had to run the imaginary 'Just Around the Corner' for a year, which was already proving quite difficult for the argument-prone teens.
"How the hell am I supposed to know how many books we're gonna sell in a month!? It isn't even a real store!" Draco yelled as he slammed a heavy book on the worn oak table to emphasize his point.
"I thought you did research on that," Hermione said calmly.
"They don't have books on average yearly sales for every damn bookstore!
"But you said you—."
"No I didn't!"
"Fine!" she stood to yell back in his face, "If you feel like being difficult, I'll find it. You, meanwhile, can calculate the cost of utilities per month!"
"Well, it sure will be a lot easier than discovering the impossible!"
"You know, Dumbledore said we could talk to actual store owners," Hermione replied, frustrated and sat in her chair crossing her arm over her chest.
"You're the people person, so go talk to them."
"I will."
~*~*~*~*~
The next evening Hermione found herself walking through the pouring rain to Hogsmeade muttering wildly about how much she hated that git Malfoy.
"That lazy-ass couldn't research anything to save his life," Hermione said and gasped as another gust of icy wind penetrated her wool cape, "He'd better appreciate this."
A while after (too long in Hermione's opinion) she arrived to the Village, and searched for the bookshop, 'Agnes and Roy' to talk to Agnes Kern, the associate owner. She soon found it and pushed open the stained glass door to be welcomed by tinkling bells and a wave of warmth from the crackling hearth. There didn't seem to be anyone there, so Hermione called for assistance,
"Hello? Is any here? I'm Hermione Granger, and I need to talk to a 'Miss Kern' about a school project I'm doing."
No one answered.
Hermione was about to give up when a voice spoke from behind her.
"Hello there, child."
Hermione shrieked and turned to look at her attacker.
"I'm so sorry to frighten you, but I do believe I am the one you are looking for," the woman said kindly.
"Oh, yes well, you surprised me, that's all," Hermione said as she recovered herself.
The woman was very old. Her skin was milky pale but disgraced with folds and folds of wrinkles, and her figure was small and hunched, but her sharp violet eyes melted away any tell-tale sign of age that adorned her fragile body.
"You needed something," the crone asked politely.
"Um, I'm doing a project at school, where I have to run a bookshop for a year, and I was wondering if you could tell me about, on average, how many books you sell in a month."
"Why, I'd be glad to help! You can call me Agnes, by the way," the woman said holding out her shriveled hand for Hermione to shake.
"Hermione," she answered grasping the hand held before her.
"Ah, what a pretty name. Now to business. Hmm, let me think...." Agnes put a finger to her temple and frowned in contemplation, "I'd have to say about 967.228 books a month to be exact."
"Oh, thank you," Hermione said gratefully, "I asked Draco, the boy I'm working with, too find that number but, oh, he just won't do anything! I mean, the work was given to both of us, not just me, he hasn't done anythi—well, that isn't true. I guess he does do his fair share, but no after I remind him a million times a day!" she paused to catch her breath, "I'm really sorry to be pestering you. I guess I should be going."
"Oh no, you're perfectly fine. But you should go now, they're serving turkey for dinner in the Great Hall at the moment; you don't want to miss that."
"Darn! Stupid ferret making miss dinner now, and I'm starving. Thank you so much, Agnes, for all of your help; I really appreciate it."
"My pleasure, and one more tip before you go."
"Yes?" Hermione stopped as she approached the door.
"Be wary of dark alleys, deary."
"Um...thank you. Good-bye! And thanks again!" Hermione stepped outside only to discover that it was raining even harder than before.
'Be wary of dark alleys.'
~I wonder what she meant by that~ Hermione though to herself as she journeyed back to the castle. She was debating the idea of stopping by the Three Broomsticks to grab a quick butterbeer when two wet hands grabbed her from behind and dragged her screaming form into a nearby alley.
She was roughly shoved against a wall, and the two hands found there way to her throat.
"You scream or make a move and I break your neck, understand?" a dark husky voice said to her. Hermione nodded her head quickly in understanding.
"Good, I have a message for Mr. Malfoy that I need you to give him."
"Lucius?" she asked quietly with fear streamed from her eyes.
"No, you stupid girl! Draco! Draco Malfoy! When you get back to the castle, tell him his tutoring shall commence at this week's end beginning at the same starting line."
"Alright, I'll tell him. But what does it mean?" she whimpered.
"That doesn't concern you! Just tell him!"
He pushed her away from him into the empty street, disappearing into the shadows. Hermione rose and ran as fast as she could to her sanctuary. She could only imagine what this message meant for Draco, and it wasn't good.
~*~*~*~
Hermione ran to the doors of the Great Hall dripping wet and freezing cold. After a moment's contemplation, she decided it was best if she did not go inside, fearing too many question would be asked from Harry and Ron. Reconsidering her course of action, she darted to the owlry to send Draco a quick letter. Quickly, she scrawled something down on a spare piece of parchment, attached it to the nearest owl in reach, and ran off.
~*~
Draco was surprised when the auburn bird landing in front of his plate at the Slytherin table. It hooted at him annoyingly until he took the note from its claw. The owl flew off, and Draco read:
Meet me in our room, immediately. There is something extremely important I need to tell you.
The letter was messy and the ink was running on the damp paper, but Draco recognized it to be Hermione's handwriting. He looked up and noticed for the first time that she wasn't in her usual seat at the Gryffindor table. Dreading what he was about to face, he got up and walked to the room where they usually did their work. He assumed the note was about the project, so he wasn't worried.
~*~
Hermione pacing back and forth across the creaking floor when Draco walked through the threshold of the classroom. She ignored the very confused look on his face and ran to throw her arms around him.
"I'm so sorry," she mumbled into his shoulder, "I didn't see him. I couldn't fight."
"What the heck are you talking about, Granger?" he asked demandingly. He stiffened from her embrace, but didn't push her away entirely.
"She said–she told me to be wary of the dark alleys. I should've known. I should've left earlier!"
At this point, Draco was getting really annoyed. He firmly grasped the shaking girl's shoulders, and shook her, forcing her to look directly at him. He looked into her cold brown eyes and yelled,
"Hermione! Stop it! Calm down tell and tell me what happened!"
"He trapped me and told me to tell you to go to your 'tutoring' this Friday beginning at the same starting line," she cried.
"Who? Who told you this?"
"I don't know! I never got to see his face, but I think it was a Death Eater."
"Damn," was all he could say.
"Does this make any sense to you?" she asked as he loosened his hold on her.
"Yes," he replied coldly.
"I'm so sorry, Draco. This shouldn't be happening to you."
"I don't want your sympathy, Hermione, but," he looked into her eyes and said honestly, "thanks anyway."
"You're welcome, Draco." Hermione then stood on her toes to give him a slow kiss on the cheek and left to go to bed.
Author's Note: So did you like it? You better have. Anyway, review like usual. Please. And any ideas on the next chappie would be appreciated, because I have no earthly idea what I am going to do next.