Summary: Hermione Granger had it all the summer of her 6th year, or so she thought. When a secret admirer turns out to be a dangerous stalker, Hermione realizes that she needs more than just her wand. Who will be assigned to help her? And will it be strictly a business relationship? Roses are beautiful, until you find the thorns.

DISCLAMIER: The ideas in this story are all my own; any overlapping ideas with any other story on fanfiction.net are purely unintentional. Some characters are my own, and all the original ones belong to JK Rowling/Warner Bros.

Chapter 2: The Second Task of Admiration

Date: July 16, 2004

Time: 8:30 PM

Subject: Hermione Granger

Event: Just back from a night out with the girls

Place: The Granger's Apartment, Surrey, England

2…

3…

4…

5…

6… Hermione stepped out of the elevator leading to her parent's muggle apartment. As she walked down carpeted hallway, she fumbled through her purse looking for the key to the apartment. As she rearranged everything trying to find it, she accidentally knocked the small, white card from her purse.

"What the…" Hermione's voice trailed off as she quickly glanced over the card. As she opened it, a red rose petal fell out of it. 'Must have gotten stuck in there from when I opened it in the room," she thought.

She hadn't thought about the "rose incident" ever since that day. She knew it wasn't terribly unusual for the models to get flowers after their show, so she didn't think anything but flattery after the extravagant bouquet.

Once Hermione got inside of her room, she threw her purse on the wicker chair by the island and picked up the cordless phone from its hook by the clock.

She had promised Ginny (it was more of Mrs. Weasley's request) that she would call her as soon as she got home. Hermione's parents were at a dentistry conference in Paris, and leaving Hermione alone had fired up Mrs. Weasley's worry for her.

Because of Mr. Weasley's job, the Weasley's were one of the few wizarding families with a telephone that connected to the muggle world.

Ring…ring…ring…

"Hello?" Hermione heard Ginny's voice come in on the other line.

"Hey Gin, I'm home," Hermione said into the phone.

"Good," Hermione heard Mrs. Weasley's voice yelling at Ginny on the other end, "my mum wants to know if you need anything," more yelling, "and if you do, she can floo right over. Or, if you want, you can spend the night over here at the Burrow."

Hermione plopped down on the overstuffed velvet couch and grabbed the telly, her favorite part about being muggle born, remote. "Nope, I think I'm fine," Hermione turned on the TV and clicked mute.

"Are you positive?" Ginny asked, concerned for her parentless-for-a-weekend friend.

"Yeah. Is Ron there? I want to talk to him," Hermione asked.

"I think so, but then again, I never know where he is. Probably off getting into trouble. Harry's here too, ya know. Hold on a sec, I'll get him," Hermione heard Ginny yell, "RONALD WEASLEY! Hermione wants to talk to you!" right up against the phone, causing what promised to be a painful earache.

"Ello? Hermione?" Ron asked in his cute, but more masculine than before, voice.

"Ron is that you?" Hermione asked.

"Yep," Hermione heard Harry say something about being acknowledged, so Ron added, "and Harry too!"

"Hey Harry," Hermione said excitedly; it was the first time she had been able to talk to her two best friends all summer.

"How's your summer been going?" Harry asked.

"It's been busy…" Hermione trailed off.

"Busy? How so? I know you've been doing that charm modeling, but how much of your summer can it take up?" Ron asked.

When there was no answer, Ron asked again, "Hermione? Are you still there?"

"Shhhhh!" Hermione's hoarse voice came onto the phone.

"Are you okay, Mione?" Harry asked.

"Hold on boys," Hermione said, in a harsh whisper.

Ron heard a click on the other line, and the muted humming of an empty phone line. "She hung up," he told Harry.

"Do you think she is okay?" Harry asked, sitting up from where he was reclining in a chair.

"I don't know. Maybe we should call her back?" Ron asked.

Ron dialed Hermione's number, and heard someone pick up. "Hermione!"

Instead of being greeted by the familiar voice of his friend, he heard Mrs. Granger's voice come on, "Hello, you've reached the Granger's. None of us are able to pick up the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number, we'll be able to get back to you as soon as we can. Ta!"

"Is it her?" Harry asked anxiously.

"No, it was a recording," Ron replied, sullenly.

Ginny walked into the room, carrying the "WW2 (Witch Weekly Twice a Year)" magazine. "Is Hermione still there? I forgot to ask her who she voted for for the new issue of WW2?"

"She hung up," Harry replied, morosely.

"What's the matter with you two," Ginny noted the boys' melancholy behavior.

Before they could answer, the phone rung, sending both boys running to go pick it up.

"Hello?" Ron asked, fretfully.

"Ron?" a quivering voice identified to be Hermione's answered.

"Ask her if she is okay and why she hung up!" Harry told Ron.

"Are you okay? Why did you hang up on us?" Ron asked, repeating Harry's concerns.

"Ron," Hermione's voice, weary with worry ignored the questions, and instead replied, "can you tell Ginny I want to take her up on her offer about spending the night at the Burrow?"

"Okay…" Ron said cautiously, "Harry and I will be right over to help you get your stuff as long as you promise to tell us what happened. K?"

"Uh-huh," Hermione said.

Once Ron had hung up, Hermione added, "Please hurry."

xoxo

When Hermione arrived, Mrs. Weasley was busy in the kitchen twirling her wand around watching the pots on the stove bubble.

"Oh good Hermione, you are finally here! Ginny will you be a dear and set another place at the table for Hermione?" Obviously Mrs. Weasley hadn't been informed on the latest events.

"Sure, Mum," Ginny replied, and pulled out a checkered placemat and the proper silverware.

Once Hermione's overnight bag was put in Ginny's room on the spare bed and everyone was seated at the table, did everyone begin to ask questions.

"Why did you hang up?"

"Are you okay?"

"One question at a time!" Hermione yelled over the commotion.

"What is the matter Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows; her motherly instincts sensing that something was wrong.

"Okay, I'll tell you all," Hermione began.

Harry gave her a suspicious look, but didn't say anything.

"I was talking to Ron and Harry on the phone…"

Flashback

"How's your summer been going?" Harry asked.

"It's been busy…" Hermione trailed off.

"Busy? How so? I know you've been doing that charm modeling, but how much of your summer can it take up?" Ron asked.

When there was no answer, Ron asked again, "Hermione? Are you still there?"

Hermione could hear the soft rustle of paper coming from down the hall.

"Shhhhh!" Hermione's hoarse voice came onto the phone.

"Are you okay, Mione?" Harry asked.

The noise came from down the hall, except this time it was the sound of her bedroom window slamming shut.

"Hold on boys," Hermione said, in a harsh whisper.

A long whistle, sounded through the large apartment. 'Must be the wind,' Hermione thought, feeling her heart begin to beat faster.

Hermione clicked the phone off, forgetting who she was talking too, and slowly got up from where she was sitting, turning off the TV at the same time.

Pulling her wand out of its leather case, Hermione tip-toed her way down the hall leading towards her parents' and her bedrooms. The first room was hers. Feeling her heat beat at an abnormally fast pace, Hermione reached out for the brass doorknob.

End Flashback

"When I opened the door, I first noticed my bedroom window open half way, with the curtains swaying in the wind. My bed was covered in coral colored rose petals…" Hermione paused, as if recollecting her memory.

"Go on," Ginny urged her friend.

The suspense in the room was so thick, that Harry thought he could cut it with a knife.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione continued, "Rose petals just like the ones I found in my dressing room was after my performance at the Magical Showplace, except they were different colors this time."

"What happened there?" Ron asked, wanting to know what was up with all the roses.

Hermione briefly explained how she had found all of the roses in her dressing room.

"What did you do with them?" Ginny asked, jealous of her friend.

"I left them there. I had no way to get them back home," Hermione answered, carefully choosing her words.

"Was there anything else that your admirer left?" Mrs. Weasley inquired.

"Yes, actually. He left another letter," Hermione said, as she excused herself from the table to go fish the letter out of her purse.

Hermoine returned to the table, "Here it is. It's another poem, kind of like the first one he gave me."

"A flower was offered to me:
Such a flower as May never bore.
But I said "I've a Pretty Rose-tree",
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.

Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree:
To tend her by day and by night.
But my Rose turn'd away with jealousy:
And her thorns were my only delight."

"Then he left a little note," Hermione continued, after she read the poem, "My Pretty Rose-tree, I expected you to be more welcoming of the gift of roses that bestowed on you. Instead, I later found them wilting in your dressing room. You will hear from me again, but not in person. Yours truly."

Hermione quickly folded it back up and placed it back in her purse.

"What a freak," Ron mumbled beneath his breath.

"Hush, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley scolded her son.

They finished dinner in silence, each pondering on Hermione's mysterious admirer.

The silence was broken by Mrs. Weasley. "Hermione, you do know what a coral colored rose means, right, dear?"

Hermione looked up from her plate and turned towards Mrs. Weasley, giving her her full attention. "No…" Hermione said, very slowly.

"Well, if I can remember correctly back from my Herbology class at Hogwarts," Mrs. Weasley's voice sounded forced as she continued, "each color rose symbolizes something. It used to be a way to write love letters, and a coral rose means," Mrs. Weasley paused again. She wasn't sure if she should tell Hermione what it really meant. It might scare the frightened girl.

"Please go on, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione strained.

Mrs. Weasley gave Hermione a questioning look before she finished her thought, " a coral rose means desire." She let out a deep breath. There, she had said it.

Hermione's silver fork crashed down on her ceramic plate. She pushed her chair out, the seat cushion falling to the floor, and stood up quickly, feeling the blood rush to her head. "This is a scrumptious dinner, Mrs. Weasley, and I want to thank you so much for allowing me to stay here overnight, but I think I am going to retire for the evening. This whole 'rose ordeal' has caused me to loose my appetite."

Hermione took her plate and set it in the sink so Mrs. Weasley could magically clean it, then ran upstairs to her's and Ginny's room. She opened the door and flopped down onto the bed, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she saw a single coral rose magically taped to the ceiling.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" Hermione screamed. Sitting straight up in bed, she had a perfect view of the magic mirror across the room, which showed the reflection of a person flying away on a broomstick. And the unmistakable glimpse of blonde hair- or was that a shooting star?

Hermione heard the thumping of Harry and Ron running up the stair followed by the less boisterous pitter-patter of Mrs. Weasley and Ginny running up the stairs.

"HERMIONE!" Harry and Ron yelled as they burst in the room.

Ginny squeezed in-between her brother and his friend over to comfort her friend. "What is it, Mione?" Ginny asked, concern etched across her face.

Hermione looked up to the ceiling, knowing that the four pairs of eyes would follow her lead. "He knows I'm here," Hermione whispered.

In a meek voice, Mrs. Weasley replied to no one in particular, "Of course he does. Most admirers don't give up too easily on their affections, and it looks like your's won't either."

xoxo

A/N: Well, what do you think? Do you like where it's going? I've spent all day writing this, so I sure hope so! Oh and by the way, the poem was by William Blake; it is titled My Pretty Rose-Tree. Also, I didn't know if you guys caught on that the beginning part where I mention the date/time etc. is supposed to immitate a crime report, since this does have to do with a stalker and such...

Thanks for all the reviews! I was jumping up and down everytime I saw "Review Alert" in my mailbox. I can't tell you how happy they made me: FlamingArrow a.k.a.GinnyWeasly, Courtney11989, BewitchingWitch, and SwimGoddess.

BlueFlameAngel: I'm sorry if you think I portray the wrong image of Hermione. Hermione is a lot older in this fic than she is in the book, and people change, so I decided to make Hermione pretty. Also, when I had typed it up on a word document, everything was indented and it looked normal, but when I posted it, it somehow got messed up. Sorry it was hard to read.

Draco's Voice: The rest is coming! Never fear; I like cliff hangers!

Amoria: I'm glad you like fluffy stories! I'll try to make it fluffy in later chapters when Draco comes into the picture. I'm sorry, but I don't know the name of the poem; I just found it on google.

AmyShaw: Don't worry, I will love you forever! Haha, I'm lover number 5, right? LOL.. thanks for your constant support with all of my stories and crazy ideas!

Venus725: I am def. a DM/HG shipper, so don't worry there will be some action with them. And with Draco being the stalker, hmm… all I can say is, "never fear, Draco is not the bad guy!" So you promised a review next time? Hehe! I love long reviews!

Ku: Sorry if you didn't like the long word (pulchritudinous); I was having a little too much fun with the thesaurus! Hermione is a charm model, so she needs to be smart and capable yet pretty at the same time. I will try my hardest not to rush anything, but sometimes I get so caught up in my writing that it all spills out too fast.