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 are purely unintentional. Some characters are my own, and all the original ones belong to JK Rowling/Warner Bros.
Chapter 3: The Third Task of Admiration
Date: September 2, 2004
Time: 10:30 AM
Subject: Hermione Granger
Event: The Day before Students return to Hogwarts
Place: The Granger's Apartment, Surrey, England.
Everything was back to normal, and had been for the past month. Hermione had finished her summer job as a Charm Model and was getting ready to start her last and final year at Hogwarts. She spent the whole morning in Diagon Alley buying new books and robes and was excited to come home and spend the remainder of the day with her parents.
Flashback
Books. Everywhere. There were small ones, big ones, red ones, blue ones, new one and old ones; hundreds and hundreds of adventures begging to be opened and read. Hermione gently brushed her hand against the binding of a dusty leather book that had caught her eye and plucked it from its haven among the others.
"Les Significations du Rose", Hermione read the gold, loopy title with her superb French accent. Carefully flipping the weathered, thin pages of the book, she found a small chart with pictures of different colored roses decorating the pages.
Rose Colors and Their Meanings
Red: love, respect, congratulations, romance
Dark red: unconscious beauty
White: purity, innocence, I am worthy of you
Pink: appreciation, grace, perfection
Yellow: joy, gladness, friendship
Orange/Coral: desire, enthusiasm
Lavender: love at first sight
Black: death, farewell
"Well now isn't that interesting?" Hermione said out loud as she carefully nestled the book back where it came from, storing the content of the book in her head.
"Interesting? How so Granger?" a drawling voice came from behind.
"Malfoy. How nice to see you here," Hermione replied as she turned around to face the speaker, her voice dripping with tangible sarcasm.
Ignoring her rudeness, Draco pulled the book out that Hermione had previously been looking at. "A sudden interest in herbology? Hmm… I didn't take you for that type. You are more of the bookish type; history maybe, but not herbology."
"Oh shut it Malfoy. It's none of your business what I am up to." Hermione replied, attempting to snatch the book from him.
But Draco was quicker, "Not so fast Granger, you've got me enticed with your sudden interest in roses," Draco flipped open the book and muttered a spell to turn to the last page Hermione was reading. "Meanings of roses?" Draco read in his baritone voice, "What's all this about? Trying to start a garden to have some pretty to cover up the fact that you're a mudblood? Or are you trying to get the attention of… some muggle?" he smirked, placing the book back on the shelf.
"What's it to you, Malfoy?" Hermione snarled, feeling the red heat shine across her face, determined not to let him get the best of her, "At least I have something to do this summer, rather than doing every guy in sight, like you and your female fanclub."
"What's it to you?" Draco mocked Hermione's higher pitched voice, "and I actually have been doing something this summer," Draco mocked a shocked face, "something more productive than even the Miss Mudblood Know It All."
Hermione bit her lip slightly and looked Draco straight in the eyes, giving him the coldest look she could muster. "Go to Hell Malfoy."
"Cause without you they're never gonna let me in…"End Flashback
Gliding across the shiny, tiled foyer in her parents apartment, with her new books and robes bundled together in bags hanging from both of her arms, Hermione felt something vibrate in her back pocket.
"Oh darn," Hermione sighed as she rushed up the stairs so she could set her bags down and answer her phone. She turned around and used her hips to open the door, swaying into her room and quickly dropping her bags next to her bed.
The phone had already stopped playing the catchy ring tone when she finally was able to answer it, and in bolded, block letters the screen read 'ONE MISSED CALL'.
Clicking 'okay', another message popped up on the screen, 'ONE NEW VOICE MESSAGE'. Hermione clicked 'listen' and put her phone on speaker so she could start on packing her bags.
"One unheard message," the lady on her voicemail said in her monotone voice, "first unheard message…"
"To lie in a bed of roses,
To feel the silkiness against my skin,
The fragrance
How it comforts me
Though feeling so alone,
Once again.
There was a time
When skies weren't cloudy,
And it seldom ever rained,
But as the clouds begin to rumble,
Once again there's so much pain.
So I'll lie in my bed of roses,
And wait till the storm subsides,
And use the petals from my bed,
To wipe up the tears I've cried."
By this time, Hermione had froze, her fingers still gingerly wrapped around her new robe and her eyes glued to her cell phone, lying innocently on her bed.
"No… no..." Hermione whispered in a raspy voice as she involuntarily looked out her window, expecting to see someone there, staring at her. Instead, all she saw was the ever steady rain, falling and falling towards the ground, creating dreary puddles wherever it fell.
After a slight pause, the message continued, in the same smooth, confident voice:
"Hermione, mon plus grand amour, Hermione, dearest. What ails you so? I watch as you have become so cautious: always holding your wand erect as you walk down dark alleys; always checking a room before you enter it; slowly opening the door and peering in from behind the safety of that barrier. Why? Are you afraid? Do I frighten you? I mean you no harm- as long as you stay loyal to me- my voice. Let me take you to a place, one filled with passion and love, something you have always wanted, isn't that right? Knowing that you are loved, and mean everything to someone. I can give you everything you have ever wanted; I can fulfill you, and make you whole again. Good surprises come to those who wait patiently. Do not dread our meeting, love, for I will see you soon…"
The voice trailed off, but finished the sentence in a more demurring voice, "…and make you mine… forever."
There was a popping noise, and Hermione watched as her phone began to melt, and transfigure itself into a new shape.
Hermione's jaw dropped and felt the blood drain from her face, as the phone became a dark, blood red rose, filling the room with a distinctive fragrance.
Hermione crossed her hands against her chest, as if protecting her heart, and slowly walked backwards, trying to get as far away as possible from the rose on her bed. She kept walking and walking, until she felt a pair of hands lay gently on her shoulders.
"Ahhhh!" she shrieked as she whipped around, hands in the air, ready to fight whoever came her way.
"Hermione?" Mr. Granger asked, concerned by his daughter's curious behavior, "What's the matter, dear? Are you okay?" He was truly concerned, for Hermione's appearance had drastically changed from the ever-glowing young woman, to a Casper the Ghost look-a-like.
Mr. Granger embraced her tightly; her trembling body unceasing and shaking almost as fast as her heart beat. "What happened? Should I get your mum?"
"No…no…" Hermione's shaky voice replied in the only words she could comprehend at the time.
"What do you need, honey, is there anything I can get you? Can you at least tell me what is wrong?" Mr. Granger asked his hand soothingly patting her back, now truly worried about his daughter's well being.
Hermione thought about it for a second, and pulled back from her father's hug. "I need to go see the Weasley's, dad. I'm going to floo over there."
"Floo?" Mr. Granger asked, skeptically.
"Mr. Weasley hooked us up the Floo Network about a month ago, remember?"
"Oh yes, that's right. Well then try to be back before diner; you know your mum wants to have one last family diner before you are off to Hogwarts," he said, as he stared at her, trying to figure out what was going on.
"Will do, dad. Thank you," Hermione said as she turned again to look at the rose still on her bed. "Oh, and I might need that. Accio Tupperware." Hermione whispered, as a small Tupperware container floated towards her. Catching it in one hand, she carefully picked up her once-cell phone and placed it in the container, before tightly sealing the lid.
Walking over the to fireplace, she gave her father a quick peck on the cheek and stepped in, "The Weasley's!"
xoxo
Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen magically stirring all of her pots and preparing diner for her large family. Humming quietly, she hurriedly turned around when she heard a pop at her fireplace.
"Oh! Oh, it's just you Hermione, dear! How have you been? Ron will be so glad to see you!" Mrs. Weasley pressed Hermione in a tight hug before running over to the stairs.
"Ronald! Hermione is here! Come down and visit!" she yelled before returning back to Hermione. "Ginny is at one of her friend's house, but I'm sure she'll be sorry she missed you."
Hermione heard the running of footsteps down the stairs and across the hall, before she was greeted with one of her best friends.
"Hermione!" Ron smiled, as he squeezed Hermione in a bear hug, his flat, muscular chest pressing against her.
"What brings you here, Mione?" Ron asked, as Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen as well, curious to know the reason of Hermione's unexpected visit.
"Well, to be honest, I need your advice, and help," Hermione began, wondering how to begin.
She quickly told them what had happened, knowing they were already familiar with her situation, as they had already helped her once in the past with her mysterious stalker.
"Oh dear, oh dear," Mrs. Weasley mumbled, as Ron embraced Hermione again.
"Don't worry, Mione, we will help you," Ron said, his brotherly instincts for Hermione kicking in.
"Dear, I'm afraid we might have to report this to the ministry, for your own good," Mrs. Weasley said, as she wrung her hands together. "Ron, owl your father and tell him we will be arriving at his office shortly with Hermione. We will have to inform dear old Mr. Fudge about this."
xoxo
"So let me get this straight, Miss Granger," Cornelius Fudge asked, as he sat across from Hermione at his big, oak desk. "You say you have been receiving mysterious letters, calls, and roses from your so-called-stalker?"
"Correct, sir. And this might possibly interest you as well," Hermione answered, pulling out her Tupperware container from her robe pocket, filled with her cell phone rose.
Fudge took the container from the witch's hands, and cautiously opened the lid. "A rose…so? Is there any significance to this?" he asked, incredulously as he removed the rose from the container and twirled it in his fingers.
"Actually sir, that was my cell phone. After I had listened to the message 'he' left me on my phone, my phone transfigured into a rose."
"Oh?" Fudge said, suddenly more interested in the rose. He opened the desk drawer and removed his wand from a black velvet case. Taping the rose and muttering a spell Hermione had never heard before, the rose transformed back into her familiar cell phone. "Do you mind if I listen to the message?"
"Sure," Hermione replied, curious to see what the Minister would have to say about her message.
Fudge looked at the phone, and turned it over a few times. With a slight red tinge coloring his cheeks, he handed Hermione the phone, "Uhhh.. how?"
Hermione laughed and took the phone from him, then turned it on and dialed her voicemail. "Here you go, all set" Hermione handed him back the phone.
Fudge listened in disbelief as Hermione's secret admirer proclaimed his love to her, wondering how such a young girl could get so much attention.
When the message was done playing, Fudge carefully set the phone down on his desk, its silver appearance clashing with his redwood desk finish.
"Well, Miss Granger, Molly was right, we are going to have to take action with this to prevent you from getting hurt. Normally, I would request that you be given a personal, well, lets call it your personal 'protector', but seeing as you are leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow, this might present some problems. It would be highly difficult for me to send with you a professional wizard, seeing as an adult following you around school might look suspicious. But I think I might have a solution to this problem. We've been working on a training program this summer, and I think I have just the right person to help you."
"Who?" Hermione asked, anxious to know who was being assigned to her case.
"You will see tomorrow once I have confirmed his job. I will instruct him to meet you tomorrow in compartment 12 on the Hogwarts Express. Go there immediately once you arrive on the train."
Hermione nodded her head.
"I will contact you if we have any new leadings on your case."
"Thank you so much, Minister," Hermione replied, as she began to walk out of his office.
"Anytime, Miss Granger. And remember," he yelled after her, "don't fret too much, Hogwarts and its surroundings and professors will protect you."
xoxo
A/N: Wow. I apologize for taking almost half a year to update again. I've been so busy with school, and have had no free time (or inspiration) to write. Thank you so much for all of the reviews that I still continued to receive even though I hadn't been updating. You guys are amazing, and I truly appreciate it. Until next time (which I promise will be sooner…)
The poem is called My Own Bed of Roses By Leigh Anne Dawson