Two Lines

by starspangledpumpkin

For the past ten years Hermione has been working hard at the Daily Prophet in hopes of becoming an editor and one day editor-in-chief. Unfortunately, someone else wants the role as much as she does. Cedric Diggory. He drives her up the wall and is as competitive and stubborn as she is. So what will she do when she finds they have more in common than either realized?

6. Chapter 6

Shipping B4 - Epiphany

Spring C1 - Design

Trope E4 - Chekov's Gun

Stacked With: FPC; BAON; ToS; Star; Fence; T3; SN; Ship; SpB; TrB; IC&F

Challenges: Old Shoes (Y); Worth Two Quid (Y); The Real MC (Y); Two Cakes (Y); Eating Cake (Y); Zed Era (Y); Hold the Mayo (Y); Small Fry (Y); Saucy Oven (Y); Disabled (Y); Ethnic & Present (Y); Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Rowl in her Grave; Neurodivergent (Y); Gryffindor MC; Hufflepuff MC; Ravenclaw MC; Slytherin MC; Magical MC; Red Lights; Red Wave (Y); Red Bull (x2); Bi Rainbow; Rainbow Rainbow; Missing Rainbow; Green Ribbon

Primary & Secondary: Spinning Plates; Unwanted Advice; Second Verse (Found Family; Nontraditional; Sneeze Weasel; Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still); Chorus (Bee Haven; Fizzy Lemonade; Machismo; Peddling Pots; Odd Feathers; Pear-Shaped; Wabi Sabi)

Tertiary & Generic: T3 (Thimble); SN (Ameliorate)

Scavenger Hunt: Spring Writing Diversity (Judaism)

Warnings: Arguments; brief harassment; creepy old house; mentions of past murder

Word Count: 8,184

~o0o~

Hermione cracked open one eye and groaned. Her head felt like it had been smashed in with a hammer and her mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton.

Ugh…

She made an absolute idiot of herself last night, hadn't she?

At least her bed was comfortable and warm. She burrowed under the covers and her elbow collided with something.

They grunted and coughed lightly.

Someone. Cedric.

Oh, God, did she do it again?!

Hermione wiggled away from them and crashed onto the floor. She was clothed. Good.

"Oh, shit. Are you okay?" Cedric asked.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she scrambled to her feet. She had to lean against the dresser and swallow back her wave of nausea before whipping her head around.

"What were you watching me sleep or something?!" she demanded.

Cedric snorted. "Well, an elbow to the diaphragm is quite the wake up call."

This wasn't funny. She made a fool of herself. How could she ever get that perfectly crafted image of herself back? How long before she lost everything she had worked so hard to get? Before everyone saw her true colors and left?

Cedric got up. "Hey, you had a lot to drink last night. You should lie back down. Let me get you some water and a pain pill."

"Tsh! Yeah, right! You're not getting me back in your bed!"

"Geez do you have to make me sound like some lothario?" said Cedric, scowling. "You're the one who kept trying to jump my bones! I just didn't want you to be alone while you were sloshed like that."

She scoffed. "Oh, what am I supposed to reward you or something?"

"Of course not, but the benefit of the doubt would be nice!" they said angrily. "And I was going to sleep on the couch but you begged me to lay down with you. You started crying about being left alone! I wasn't exactly jazzed about being felt up by a sobbing, drunk woman, you know!"

"I—I didn't feel you up!"

"Oh, don't you even!" they spat and said in a whiny voice, "'Oh you have such a pretty face! You're so pretty, Cedric! Kiss me, you fool! Let me strip in front of you! Dance with me, pretty boy! I want a baby! Desperate! Desperate! I am really desperate!'"

Hermione twitched at the mockery and crossed her arms.

They dropped back to their normal tone. "I tried not to let you drink anymore, but you took two shots of patrón as we were walking out the door. I thought if I left you alone you'd do something you'd regret!"

"Who even asked you to look out for me? We've spent years at each other's throats. You won! You got the promotion! You do not get to throw me under the bus and then pull me out at the last second and expect me to feel grateful!"

"This isn't about the bloody promotion!" they shouted. "Why are you bringing it up?! What does anything that happened last night have to do about the editor position?!"

"Because I know you're only being nice to me now because you feel guilty!" she snarled. "Your pity is even worse than gloating and I don't need it or want it! I don't need you or want you!"

Cedric flinched and stared at her for a long moment. Almost as if they were waiting for her to take back her words. But she said them. They were out there. Finally, they stalked across the room, picked up her clothes—which had been neatly laid over a chair—and shoved them into her arms.

"I will see you at work, Miss Granger," they said coldly. "Please try not to be too late. You may return those clothes to me at a later date."

Hermione grabbed her shoes and her wig, stuck her nose in the air, and walked out.

"You should know that the lift is broken," they said. "Not sure if they fixed it yet."

They shut the door firmly. Hermione went down to the lift finding an out of order sign. Ugh… of course. She turned back and took the stairs. The stairwell was freezing and people were giving her looks as she passed them.

She wasn't supposed to get involved with her coworker. She knew she wasn't. And she instigated the fight… So why? Why did she feel so upset and hurt?

Hermione dug her key out and entered her flat, touching her mezuzah as she entered. Shit. Dropping everything, she ran to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet.

She needed a holiday. She needed to get away from here. From everyone. She needed to go somewhere to be herself.

Good thing she had arranged one. She scheduled it as soon as she knew she would have three weeks off. She had decided on Italy and arranged to stay in a suite. She wanted a kitchen so she wouldn't have to worry about feeding herself if everywhere was closed on Christmas Day. And it would overlap with Hanukkah. You couldn't exactly light candles in a regular hotel room.

Hermione brushed her teeth and looked at herself in the mirror. She was barely hanging on by a thread. She really shouldn't have let her last holiday be a family reunion. But something was wrong with her. She felt like she had when she was a child. Abuelo always said her emotions were too big for her body, but she had thought after the war she had collected them.

She stopped crying when she was angry, she stopped judging those who deviated from the norm when she realized she was acting like her mother, she tried to be kinder. More aware. And she bottled up everything undesirable about herself. Hid everything anyone had thought was ugly about her.

And it wasn't enough. The things she felt and loved oozed out of a shoddily made wall. Her insecurities, her fears, her wants. What was she going to do?

Hermione stewed in her thoughts while she showered and readied for work. She put on a wool skirt with the matching vest and her favorite white blouse, then covered it all up with a massive blanket shawl and her cloak. She hesitated on her wig. She was exhausted. The headache that would come from strapping it down on top of the hangover she was already suffering from would put her in a worse mood than the one she could feel brewing.

Even so, if she had to deal with her hair brushing into her face, she thought she might tear it out. So, she wrangled it into a bun, pulled on a shaper bonnet, and then wrapped it up in a tichel. She had all these scarves she bought and yet she rarely wore them. Beautiful scarves in all sorts of colors and patterns. (Keeping on her goth theme of course.) She looked at herself in the mirror and forced herself to apply makeup so she looked less like a ghoul.

"Sorry to leave again so soon, my lovelies," she said to her cats.

All three were on the tree giving her the cold shoulder. Et tu? She gave them wet food in hopes of garnering favor and brought out a couple new toys for them to play with.

"I'll be home later," she said and left.

The Ministry of Magic was fairly empty on the weekends, usually they only had a quarter to half of the employees there so she didn't have to bump into anyone in the lift. She stepped out onto the correct floor to find everyone gathering into the conference room. Were they supposed to have a meeting today? She picked up the pace to join the crowd.

"What's this about?" she asked Shaylyn at the coffee station.

"Oh, hello, Hermione," said Shaylyn. "I'm as surprised as you are. Mr. McLaggen just called this meeting a moment ago."

"I see. Good thing I came in then," she said. "I hate being out of the loop."

"Yeah, me too. Did you get home alright?"

"Yes. I was a complete mess last night, wasn't I? How embarrassing."

"Morning, Granger, I heard you had quite the evening last night!" said Cormac.

She ignored him.

"You're fine," said Shaylyn, ignoring him, too. "I had a lot of fun. I'm excited for the six of us to go out again."

Right… they had planned that, hadn't they?

"The silent treatment?" Cormac huffed. "What did I ever do to you?"

What did he do except be a nuisance?

"Why do you want me so bad?" she asked tiredly. "We barely had one date fifteen years ago. I flirted with you and asked you to a boring holiday gathering to make someone else jealous and I ditched you halfway through and never spoke to you again or even indicated that I have been interested in you since. So why are you fixated on a 'barely was'?"

She hoped her little speech would be an eye-opener. A true indicator that maybe he wasn't as bad as she thought or that he was hiding and using her as a way to hide. That maybe this straight-forward conversation would lead to a simple exist-in-the-same-space co-existence.

No such luck.

Cormac smirked and ran his fingers down the tail of her scarf. "I enjoy the chase. I'll wear you down until you're a new notch and then I'll move on to the next conquest."

Wow. Hermione slapped his hand away. "You're really something else."

"I know. So why don't we find a quiet place so you can finally be rid of me?"

The sad bit was, she was tempted to, just to get a moment's peace around here.

"Sorry, Cormac," said Shaylyn. "It seems you didn't realize Hermione is Jewish. That means pigs are off-limits."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed while Cormac went red. He stammered while the pair moved into the corner. She realized a second too late that Cedric was standing there. Too late to subtly steer Shaylyn to stand elsewhere.

"What's so funny?" they asked.

"Er, Shaylyn told Cormac he wasn't Kosher," she said. "He openly admitted that he just wants to sleep with me and then he'll move on."

"And that's news? Stop the presses."

Ouch. The smile slid off Hermione's face and she turned away from them. Shaylyn furrowed her brow, but didn't comment on the interaction.

"I was thinking," she said. "If Tabatha comes to work on the Social Watch pages, maybe the shift in editors will pave the way for me to be the permanent fact checker for your department. I'm sure they'll still need me in the other departments, but I don't care if I have to have a Playskool table in the corner of your office if it gets me in a less stressful environment."

"Or we could push to expand the department," said Cedric. "Knock out the wall of Mr. Amorian's office to free up some space."

"Yeah, or that."

Luna squeezed in at the last moment holding onto faer daughter's hand. Lily Ginny was bright-eyed and eager, and wearing her noni's (the term Luna preferred to be called as a parent) old reporter hat, which was much too big for her. Hermione wanted to burst into tears then and there, she looked so darn cute!

Mr. McLaggen walked into the conference room. "Quiet down, please. Just a few quick announcements. I'm sure you already know that we are working on modernizing the paper. The Social Watch pages will be down for three weeks starting next week while their office is outfitted with computers. Whether or not the experiment works out, we have received permission to return to our old headquarters in Diagon Alley. The move will be made March the First. We will see at the end of January if we want to completely automate the process.

"As it stands, Mr. Diggory will be interim editor for the Social pages," he continued. "Though the permanent editor has yet to be decided on, I imagine you will be given an answer when Mr. Amorian has his retirement party on January 31st."

"Yes, sir," said Cedric.

"How are you lot coming on your articles?"

"I'm nearly done with mine," said Hermione.

"Me too," said Cedric.

"Who's to say?" said Luna.

"Excellent. Please make sure the office is cleared before you leave for your holiday next week. I don't know what all it will take, but the Muggle Artifact Adaptation Department cannot be held responsible for anything broken in your absence."

Fair.

"That's all, I would suggest everyone familiarize themselves with muggle terminology should we decide to make the jump to technology. You are dismissed."

Hermione decided now was as good a time as any. She wove her way through the crowd and approached Mr. McLaggen.

"Er, sir, may I speak to you about something?" she asked.

"Of course, Miss Granger, what is it?"

"Well, the Social Pages has usually managed to keep up with the demand, but I think we need to focus more on expansion," she said. "The other departments have plenty of writers, why don't we?"

Mr. McLaggen tipped his head and said loud enough to attract attention. "Are you overwhelmed by the workload, Granger? Is it too much for you?"

Don't back down. Don't take the bait. Set the boundary. If she didn't now, how long until she exploded?

"I think the amount of work the three of us put up with borders exploitation," said Hermione. "We all love the job, but we should not be expected to carry the paper on our backs. Just two more writers and a permanent fact-checker would make a world of difference in both the quality and quantity of our work. I'd actually like to put a bid for Ms. Ramsey to be our permanent fact-checker and the raise to be en par with our median department salary. Divvying the work would be less stressful."

"So you're saying that you're lazy."

Ass. Hermione furrowed her brow.

"I have worked here for ten years, sir," she said. "You oughta know by now that it isn't laziness."

Mr. McLaggen stood and looked her in the eye. He towered over her, nearly a head taller. Most men seemed to be that much taller, but she tried not to let them make her as small as she really was. She held the contact even though it made her skin crawl. She always hated eye contact.

"Very well. Ms. Ramsey, you're moving over to the Social Pages. You'll get the paid time off with them while the system is automated. Miss Granger, do you have another writer in mind?"

"Well, I have it on good authority that Tabatha St. Vincent might apply here," she said. "If she does, I highly recommend her. As for the fourth, I'm sure we can revisit that once the next editor is decided upon."

"Of course. You'd make quite a good leader, Granger. Taking initiative."

"Thank you, sir. Excuse me." She left the conference room and entered her office. She got the coffee brewing at the station and pressed her forehead against the cabinet.

Ooh, she wished she hadn't drank so much last night.

The door opened and she straightened up and quickly sat down at her desk.

"Well, that was easy," said Luna. "I wonder why we didn't do that sooner."

"We tried, didn't we?" said Cedric. "All he did was pay us more."

"And now I'm getting paid more!" said Shaylyn happily. "I think."

"We'll make sure you get a raise," said Cedric. "Promise."

Lily trotted over and climbed onto Hermione's lap. She smiled and wrapped her arms around her niece. She was so darn cute with her chubby cheeks, warm brown skin, green eyes, and mop of unruly black hair. She was the spitting image of Harry with all of her noni's whimsy. Curled up around her neck was Mr. Noodle the Rosy Boa. Lily was a parselmouth like Harry and had been begging for a snake for years.

So Hermione bought her one (and all the accoutrements) for her birthday a few months ago. Mr. Noodle was still a bit small but would no doubt be the size Lily was now when she was ready to attend school.

"Hello, Lily-Gin, burbujita," Hermione gushed. "What a lovely surprise, seeing you here today! And you as well, Mr. Noodle."

Mr. Noodle flicked out her tongue.

"Mr. Noodle says hello," said Lily. "Papa has teaching today, so Noni brought me to work!"

"It'll be educational," said Luna.

"Well, it's always a good day to see my goddaughter," said Hermione, kissing Lily's cheek.

The phone rang. Hermione answered it with the usual greeting and Lily went over to sit on Cedric's lap.

"Hermione, dearie!" said Mrs. Cohen. "I have the perfect house for you, can you make it to a showing this afternoon?"

"Erm, yeah, alright. What time? Address?"

"Three o'clock and the address is 42 Poppy Hill."

Hermione wrote it down and furrowed her brow.

"Where's that at?"

"Camden, near Primrose Hill."

Hm… kinda pricey over there.

"Oh. Isn't that a little…"

"Not to worry dearie, it is well within your budget!"

She thought of what might be the cause of that. "Is it haunted?"

"Not that I'm aware, but there was a murder."

"A murder?" she gasped.

"A grisly one."

How exciting.

"Grisly you say?" She bit her lip and thought about it. "I'll see you at three."

She hung up.

"Where are you going?" asked Shaylyn.

"I've got an appointment in Camden."

"So you're taking off early?" said Cedric snippily.

"Yes. I'm nearly done with my work anyway. Is that a problem, boss?"

They smiled politely. "None at all. Will you be back after your appointment?"

"Hard to say," she said just as politely.

"Yes, well, the murderer might still be lurking nearby."

"Promise?"

Luna sighed. "And it was just beginning to warm up in here."

Shaylyn opened her mouth as if to comment, then closed it.

"Er… I think I'll just go back to my desk," she said.

"Before you go…" Hermione brought out a file. "I need these facts double-checked please before I type up the articles."

"Yeah, sure."

Hermione set out her notes and got to work. She just had an interview to conduct next week and the rest would be spent typing up her articles and submitting them before she was on a blissful holiday.

"Is there something you two need to share?" Luna asked.

"No," said Cedric, getting up to get their coffee.

"Not a thing," Hermione agreed.

"Then why are you two fighting again?" fae asked. "You were just starting to be friends."

"Is it the sexual tension?" asked Lily.

Cedric choked on their coffee. Hermione was glad to be sitting because she probably would have fainted.

"Lily!" she gasped. "Do you even know what that means?"

"No, but the grownups talk about it every time you leave the dinners," said Lily. "Does it mean you're having trouble making a baby? Cause sex makes babies."

Hermione didn't know if she wanted to laugh hysterically or crawl under her desk and die. Luna just smiled serenely, deciding to let them answer the child's questions.

"Good guess, Lily-Gin," said Cedric with a grimace. "Way to use those context clues. But no, that's not what it means. It just… it means…"

"It means they think your Uncle Cedric and I would be a very nice couple if only we didn't fight so much," said Hermione.

"Yes, exactly."

"Then why do you fight so much?"

Dammit! Another complicated question. Hermione pursed her lips.

"You want the truth or will you be content with a 'we just do'?" she asked.

"The truth please."

"Oh, very well. Here's the truth."

Cedric raised an eyebrow, ready to hear what she had to say about them.

"The truth is I'm an uptight control freak with emotions too big for her body to handle, which leads me to overreact to situations and then feel embarrassed later for how I react to them," said Hermione. "And I don't apologize for them because that would indicate it wouldn't happen again, when it very much will. So an apology would be pointless."

"So how come you just not be that way?"

"Don't know. Not for a lack of trying, I assure you." Hermione looked at Cedric. "You're dripping."

They blinked and grabbed a napkin to wipe the mess they made with the coffee.

"Ah, I see," said Luna. "So when Cedric held up their end to say what they mean it only worked a little, but now you have a difficult task of managing your numerous shortcomings."

Hermione clicked her tongue. "You got it."

"Well, if you didn't try to act so perfect all the time maybe you wouldn't have all these issues," said Cedric. "Nobody is asking you to be perfect. Just be yourself."

"Oh please, no one wants that."

"Says who?"

"Lots of people!"

"Maybe you're just too scared to let them get close!" they said.

"And maybe you should mind your business!" she retorted.

"I think you two should keep making the effort to get along," said Luna diplomatically. "You're more alike than you think."

"Please?" Lily begged. "I don't like when you fight."

Hermione crossed her arms and sighed. She couldn't say no to those big eyes.

"That thing you were talking about on the phone sounded interesting," said Luna. "Why don't we start there?"

Urgh. Hermione took a deep breath. She supposed it wouldn't hurt to get a second opinion on the murder house in a high-end neighborhood. Any more houses and she might have to consider another town or even the suburbs. As long as it had good bones and left enough room in her budget for renovations it could be a good thing?

At the very least she would need to make sure the place was no longer an active crime scene before she signed any papers. It wouldn't do if they had to go around police tape.

"If you ask, I bet Cedric would happily accompany you to the appointment you have," Luna pressed.

Fine.

She looked up at them. They could be friends, couldn't they? She just needed to stop looking at every new relationship as a potential romantic one. Loneliness or not.

They raised an eyebrow at her and she felt annoyed.

"Want to go see a dead body?" she asked.

Well, that came out entirely wrong.

"I—I don't know why I said that," she said, feeling her cheeks warm.

"So there's no dead body?"

"No."

Cedric clicked their tongue in disappointment and leaned against her desk. She rolled up the magazine she brought to read at break and swatted their leg, making them move around to their desk.

"It's a house," she said. "I've been house-hunting because I don't want to live in a flat for the rest of my life and it's really not fair to the cats. The house is in Camden and apparently it's within my price range because there was a grisly murder there."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it? We went to a school where people have been murdered," she reasoned. "I've witnessed multiple murders and attempted murders."

"Fair point."

Luna gave her the mom look.

"Er… offer still stands," said Hermione. "The showing is at three and… it'd be nice to have a second set of eyes. See if I actually am getting a deal, yeah?"

"Alright. I'd love to see a murder house."

Lily looked up at Luna. "Noni, can I go, too? Please?"

"Yes," fae said.

"Yay!" Lily clapped her hands then went into the corner to color.

Hermione decided if she wanted to make it to that showing on time, she'd better get started on her assignments. She ended up skipping lunch to do so.

At two o'clock, she got her cloak.

"Lily-Gin, cloak," said Hermione, bringing it down for her.

"Hat," said Cedric, holding it up. It was bell shaped and looked like a flower.

"Actually, if you two wouldn't mind watching her for the evening, I would appreciate it," said Luna.

"Anytime with Lily-Gin is time well-spent," said Hermione. "I don't mind a bit."

"Right," said Cedric. "We'll… oh! There's a winter fair in Regent's Park. We'll take her there after the house."

"Splendid idea!" said Luna. "Have fun! Keep the peace, Lily."

"Yes, Noni!" Lily took Hermione and Cedric's hands.

Hermione wouldn't have minded watching Lily by herself, but Luna did specify she wanted both of them on duty. Hopefully the fresh air would help her headache.

"We'll have to take the train," said Hermione. "Number one, I want to see how long it takes the pedestrian way, and two, if I apparate again, I think I might faint."

"Yay! The train!" said Lily. "Papa says I'll have to take one to school!"

Hermione didn't like the idea of sending her kid away to boarding school. You only get eleven years with them and then you have to send them away? What if they had the same troubles she, Harry, and Ron had? How can you be there for them? To hold them when they cry and step in when they were in over their heads?

Lily was entirely interested in the Tube and chattered on about everything and nothing. They only had to take the Bakerloo line, which Hermione was happy about. She hated changing lines, especially after a long day.

"Lily-Gin, make sure you keep a close eye on Mr. Noodle," said Hermione.

"I will!"

"Hm… I'm starting to think this place might be very out of my price range," said Hermione as they reached the surface and started walking. "I mean… according to this map we are right on the edge of Primrose Hill. Primrose!"

"Well, aren't you rich anyway?" said Cedric. "The Right to Conquest and Hero's Pension and all? I saw the numbers, I still have trouble believing that it was 15%."

"What's sad is I give most of it to charity and it's still compounding. Anyway, why buy a £1 million house for just me when I could buy ten decent houses elsewhere at that price for homeless werewolves?" she said. "I want a beautiful home, but there's no point if it's just for me. I'd feel guilty. Not that I'd find anything cheaper around these parts."

"I don't think you should," said Cedric. "I mean… if it's really home and you can afford it and you're going to live there for the rest of your life, then shouldn't you get the perfect house? Wixen live so long. And besides, you already made an affordable housing program for all magical peoples. Homelessness is down to .5% of the magical population and half of them are a temporary situation while the other half are by choice. I wrote an article about it, remember? You deserve nice things."

They had a point.

Hermione made note of everything as they walked to the house. She did like the idea of living somewhere more colorful. At the very least she wouldn't stand out as an outsider. Maybe the street would think her one, but the overall area? Not so much. And she loved going to the market if she remembered her ear plugs.

"Well, I do know the area," she said.

"Yeah?"

"It's really close to Chalk Farm. We moved to that area when we moved here from Santo Domingo."

The three of them must've looked a bit funny walking down the street. Both Hermione and Cedric were wearing dark, muted colors, nails painted dark and both in black makeup. Whereas Lily was wearing as many different bright and bold colors as she possibly could in her mismatched outfit. Even her shoes were mismatched. One a pink trainer and the other a yellow welly.

Hermione had to refer to her map a few times.

"Oh dear," she said and looked around. "I'm lost."

"Here." Cedric held out their hand. "I'm particularly good at finding things."

She passed over the map and they stepped off to the side. Lily stood close to keep out of the wind. Mr. Noodle had dipped under her collar to take a nap and stay warm.

"We made a wrong turn back there," said Cedric. "We're not far."

As it turned out the house they were looking at was up a hill at the end of a lane that flanked the park. Tucked as the last one after a row of candy colored, Victorian terraced houses was a detached house overgrown with ivy and spindly trees. The house seemed to have been pink at one point. It had a spiky iron gate and was surrounded by dead plants. The for sale sign was also overgrown. It was absolutely creepy. It would look at home as the weird house in a book.

"Ooh!" breathed Hermione. She had to see the inside.

Crack! Mrs. Cohen appeared, red handbag on her arm.

"Right on time, dearie!" she said and noticed Cedric. "Oh, you stinker! You never mentioned you were seeing someone! Hello, I'm Mrs. Cohen."

"Er, Cedric Diggory," they said.

"Mrs. Cohen, Cedric's just a friend," said Hermione. "And we're looking after our goddaughter for the evening, but they were kind enough to agree to see the house with me and give a second opinion." She looked up at the house again. "Is this going to be a little much for…?"

Mrs. Cohen hesitated. "I'm not sure."

"It's okay," said Lily. "If you get scared, I'll hold your hand."

Cedric chuckled. "You're Luna's daughter, alright."

"Even so, Lily, I think you should stick close to Cedric while we're in the house," said Hermione. "They're bigger, so if something breaks it will hit them first, giving you a chance to avoid it."

Cedric raised their hand, no doubt to make a rude gesture, before remembering present company and sticking their tongue out instead.

"Hello there!" An older gentleman called, walking briskly towards them. "I hope you weren't waiting long!"

"Miss Granger, this is Mr. Weatherby," said Mrs. Cohen. "He owns the house."

"And quite the time I've had trying to sell it," said Mr. Weatherby. He was a small man, swamped by his wool coat. He eyed them through his coke bottle glasses. "Oh my! I must warn you the inside… well it isn't quite clean. All the services I've called… they back out, always one thing or another."

"That's okay," said Hermione.

"Hello there!"

A WASP lingered around her mailbox, no doubt watching them from the window before deciding to approach. White Anglo-Saxon Protestant. Hermione had run into a fair few since childhood and she knew from one look this one was the rule not the exception. A name would make no difference, this was not a neighbor who would be taking her any pies unless it was to nose as to why she wasn't decorating for Christmas or meeting at the local church.

"I've never seen you here before," she said, finally approaching with a yappy dog on a leash. "We don't get such… colorful figures on this street."

"Wow," Cedric mouthed.

"Well, we were about to look at this house here," said Hermione. "I just can't believe something this wonderful has been on the market so long!"

"Well, that's probably due to its history," she said, glancing at Lily and dropping her voice to a loud whisper that was barely quieter than her normal volume. "This place is cursed, you know."

"Cursed?" said Cedric. "How so?"

"Well, strange goings on have always happened at this house, I'm not even sure I should tell you," said WASP with a tone that clearly indicated she couldn't wait to gossip about this. Especially in front of Mr. Weatherby.

Poor Mr. Weatherby stammered slightly, but was shushed by Mrs. Cohen.

"Go on," said Hermione.

"Well, it's always been an odd place," WASP continued. "But it's so horrible. About fifteen years ago, the lady of the house was having a dinner party with friends when they all turned up dead. No cause of death was ever verified, but I was living here at the time and I heard the screams. They say the lady was… forgive me… dismembered by her husband. He returned home and killed all her guests, but hers was the most gruesome of all. When he came to and realized what he had done, he hung himself."

Hermione furrowed her brow and took out her pocket notebook to jot it all down.

"Many of us saw a strange, green glow over the house after the act," said WASP. "Legend says it was the demon of the monster who committed the acts!"

Cedric looked over at her. They came to the same conclusion. Either the husband or the wife was magic and the Death Eaters had attacked them. And this poor man had been tethered to this house for fifteen years not knowing what had really occurred.

"Of course, the house has always been an eyesore," WASP continued. "I really think they oughta tear it down and clear those hideous trees away."

Hermione hummed and looked up at the house.

"Thank you for telling me this," she said. "I'm so excited to see what the inside looks like!"

The WASP looked shocked. Clearly, she had been hoping the place would be torn down soon. Even if she decided she didn't want the place, Hermione wanted her to squirm.

"I… this house has a bloody history! Rumor has it that anyone who tries to move in will go mad within the year, their entire family cursed! Do you want to subject yours to that?"

Hermione looked at Cedric, then back at the woman. "Yes!"

Cedric coughed, hiding their laugh.

"But your daughter!"

"Oh, she doesn't belong to us," said Hermione. "Anyway, we're burning daylight." She faced Mr. Weatherby. "I'd like to see the inside, please."

"I… of course! I will warn you, I haven't been inside since… I don't know how clean it is inside," Mr. Weatherby warned.

"Miss Granger is quite comfortable around these sorts of places," said Mrs. Cohen, smiling broadly. "Not to worry."

"Lily-Gin, stay close to Cedric," Hermione reminded. "If you get hurt, your papa will be quite cross with me."

"Yes, Auntie."

Hermione carefully maneuvered the old stone pathway, minding not to trip. From the sound of it, Mr. Weatherby just wanted to be rid of it, which would explain why it was well within her price range despite the area. And murder houses typically were a hard sell.

Especially with the type of death that occurred here. If it was in fact a result from the war, then Mr. Weatherby would likely be entitled to compensation. She wished she could tell him what happened to his family.

Mr. Weatherby unlocked the front door, which was sturdy wood and sweeping iron in a beautiful style. It just needed a little cleaning, was all.

"One moment," said Mrs. Cohen to Mr. Weatherby. "Let her take it in."

Hermione walked across the threshold and looked around. The entrance space was round with a spiral staircase winding up all three stories. The place was dingy and disused. It would require quite a bit of work. It seemed bigger on the inside than out. Of course that could be all the foliage hiding the exterior.

She turned on her heel and went through the doors to the right. It was so rare to find a detached house in this area. Though, outside it looked as if it might have been attached at one point and then was made to stand alone.

She looked around the parlor.

Ah. That's why people were scared away. The real question was, why not fix it up and hide it? He mentioned the cleaning crews wouldn't commit.

Old stains muddied the wood floor. Deep rust colored stains. One of the windows was broken, letting in the weather. Leaves were rotting on the ground. She looked up to see the supporting rafter of the archway leading to the kitchen was cracked like a heavy weight came down on it.

Poor man…

"Well that will need to be fixed," she murmured. "And this floor. It's rotted in places, so I'll need to replace it anyway."

She touched the wall, which was also splattered. Whoever thought this wallpaper was a good idea was seriously disturbed.

Hermione looked at Mr. Weatherby who seemed anxious.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she said. "I would like to see the rest of the house, please."

The man relaxed slightly and happily showed her the rest of the house. She made notes on what she would need to fix, what she would need to replace, and what she wanted to restore. White sheets covered the furniture left behind.

Honestly, it wasn't in that bad a shape for being alone for fifteen years. There were anti-burglary wards along the windows and a ward on the front door to ward off visitors. Unfortunately, they were only effective against Muggles. The ones to prevent wizards from breaking in were different and slightly more complex, though she could never figure out why.

No wonder cleaning crews kept backing out. The wards were almost diminished, but she was sure after a while Mr. Weatherby just gave up.

"I love this stained glass," said Hermione, admiring the chandelier in the entry hall. "Is it featured everywhere in the house?"

"Yes, my great-grandmother loved stained glass," said Mr. Weatherby. "I've never been fond of it, I'm afraid. I have some lamps I can sell you even if you decide you don't want the house."

"I'd like to take a look," said Hermione. "Are the stairs safe?"

"Yes. They're sturdy. My brother and I…" he trailed off and looked hurt.

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "When my sister and I were about five, we wanted to go sledding, but it didn't snow where we lived. So we decided to use the stairs instead. My sister teases that we hit the wall so hard she still feels it. What did you and your brother do?"

"Something similar actually," he said. "Of course, we knocked over Mother's favorite statue. She was so cross."

Poor man. This house had been in his family for so long and yet the memories were now too painful for him to bear living here. It was a beautiful house. Worn down a bit, but she could imagine it when it was new.

The first floor had three rooms and the second floor had two. The stairs stopped at a door leading to the attic.

"Oh! Look at this!" she gasped, opening the balcony doors of the master bedroom and stepping out. She could see through two of the trees out to the park. The house was on a hill and from there she could see the dead, overgrown garden. There was no true fence, just rows of shrubs. A quick route to the park. And from here she could see people on walks and a pond. She bet if it wasn't so foggy the view would be even better.

"Can't beat a view like that," said Cedric. "This house is beautiful. What do you think, Lily-Gin?"

"It suits you, Auntie," said Lily.

"You think so?" said Hermione. "I think so, too. I just want to take a look at the basement first before I make my final decision."

"What are you thinking of for décor?" asked Cedric.

"Well, I was thinking of cutting out some of that wall," said Hermione, stepping back inside. "Turning this whole space into one giant master bedroom with a sitting area. Ooh! Look at this bathroom! The shower will need some major updating. Redo the tile. And the plumbing. Good water pressure is a must."

She climbed into the bathtub and sat down. It was deep. Clawfoot. She looked at the stained glass window and imagined taking long bubble baths in this space. Putting on her black chiffon dressing gown and drifting aimlessly around the house with a candelabra.

She clapped her hands and giggled at the thought.

"I want to keep as much of the stained glass as possible," she said and got back out, accepting Cedric's hand for help. "I think I'll turn one of the bedrooms on the first floor into the guest room. Add in another bathroom and keep the other two with the jack and jill joined together, make one the office and the other a library. Oh! I can finally take all my books out of storage! I love all this art nouveau style. I'd like to stain the wood a darker color. Rip up all the wallpaper and paint it over."

"Just off the top of your head?" they teased.

"Well, I've been planning my dream home since I was little," she said.

When they reached the entryway, Mr. Weatherby pressed on the wall flush against the staircase and it clicked open to go to the basement.

"Secret door!" Hermione whispered in delight.

The basement was finished. There was a second kitchen and plenty of space.

"Oh, this would make an excellent media room," she said. "Just gotta patch up the ceiling. Clear out the lead paint and the asbestos."

"Yeah, that's important," Cedric agreed. "It's actually fairly high… you know what'd be sick? Adding a platform to make theater seats."

"Oh! I could style it like those old theaters! Put a big curtain here to hide the kitchen and stock it with snacks and things!" She smiled slightly. "Your movie posters would look great with that style."

"They would! And you could get some cool sconces!"

"I was thinking sconces! I'll definitely want to get the wiring checked over."

"You are such a lovely couple," said Mr. Weatherby. "How long have you been married?"

"Er…"

"Aunt Mione and Uncle Ced aren't married," Lily announced. "Everyone just thinks they oughta be."

"Well, that's too bad. You better get a move on, young man. A lovely lady like her won't wait forever. If you've seen enough, why don't we go to the nearby café and discuss everything? Get out of this cold."

Hermione stammered and Cedric rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, muffin," they said with a teasing grin.

She didn't know whether she wanted to hit them or laugh.

"I like the house, too," said Lily. "If you live here, can I visit a lot?"

"My door is always open to you, Lily-Gin," said Hermione. "That's a promise."

The café was within walking distance. Lily hopped onto a wall.

"Lily, be careful," said Hermione. "I don't want you to—"

Her foot slipped and she crashed to the ground and started crying.

"Oh, oh!" Hermione hurried around and checked her over.

A skinned knee. Everything else seemed alright. The fall probably just scared her.

"Here," said Cedric, unzipping a small pouch from their purse. They brought out a plaster and a cleansing wipe.

Hermione cleaned the injury and bandaged it. Lily sniffled but couldn't seem to get the tears to stop.

"Ah, almost forgot to kiss it better," said Hermione. She puckered her lips and leaned over. Just before she kissed Lily's knee, she made loud gobbling sounds. "Nom, nom, nom!"

Her niece shrieked and started giggling. Hermione smiled and fixed her hat.

"I eat pain for breakfast and the occasional mid-afternoon snack," she said. "Feel better?"

"Yes, Auntie." Lily stretched out her arms and Cedric picked her up before offering a hand to help Hermione to her feet.

At the café, they sat down around a cramped table inside. Hermione and Cedric had cappuccinos and ordered Lily a hot chocolate.

The price of the house really was much lower than expected and Mr. Weatherby didn't seem too eager to ask for more despite her interest. He probably didn't want her to back out.

"I'm interested in the stained glass lamps you mentioned," said Hermione. "Though, I think that furniture has been in there too long. Not to worry though, I know someone in antiques, so if he wants to purchase and restore it I'll let you know."

She wasn't friends with Draco Malfoy, but she was friendly with his wife Astoria from when the Jewish kids at Hogwarts would congregate for holidays. He was known as the best in magic antiquities and had actually helped liquidate the assets from the Right to Conquest with his knowledge. He had a shop in Diagon Alley now, so she'd be able to reach out for an opinion.

"You are free to do with it as you wish. And the… the incident doesn't scare you?" he asked. "Most believe it's haunted. I've believed it was haunted since I was a boy. Things moving around on their own and such. Though it hadn't been touched by the blitz. A bomb once landed in our yard when we were hiding with our neighbors and never detonated. They chanced moving it and found it filled with flowers of all things."

Magic user. Probably his brother or the neighbor's child.

"Well, considering how old the earth is, I think every place is just a little bit haunted," said Hermione. "And I don't believe in curses that can't be broken. I think what happened to your family was a tragedy and I'm sorry you've suffered. I promise, I will take good care of your house. When I make the renovations, I know it's unlikely you'll ever see it again, but is there any feature you would like for me to preserve?"

"What a kind woman you are," said Mr. Weatherby, patting her hand. "Let's see. Those trees in the garden. The ones twisted together. One is a cherry tree and the other is a plum tree. If you can find a way to keep them there, together… Of course, I'm sure they're dead by now. My great-great-grandfather planted them for himself and his wife."

"My friend Neville is an excellent botanist," said Hermione. "I'm sure he can find a way to revive them."

"Then the rest is yours to fix up as you wish."

Hermione crunched the numbers of repairs with some estimates from Mrs. Cohen, plus the yearly taxes on the house and estimated cost of electricity, water, and all that. In the end, it was still more than she was expecting but… walking into that house felt like home. She liked the street, she liked the location, and it was so close to work, even when they moved back to Diagon Alley.

Cedric was right. If it felt right and she could afford it then she should do it.

"I'm sold," she said.

"Wonderful!" said Mrs. Cohen. "It will take some time for the repairs, but you and I can discuss that tomorrow when you come to sign the contract."

"Of course," said Hermione.

"If I may ask, what is it that you do for a living?" asked Mr. Weatherby.

"I'm a journalist," she said. "Of course, I came into some money when I was eighteen and it's been invested well."

"Ah! And you, sir?"

"We work at the same paper," said Cedric. "My family was old money, but it dried up during a drought before I was born. We kept the farm afloat the best we could, but the house and land were sold after my mother died."

"So sorry to hear that," said Mr. Weatherby. "How long ago?"

"I was eighteen so… It'll be sixteen years on the twenty-fourth."

Hermione knew their mother had died but they had never really talked about it. She rested a hand on their arm, hoping to give some comfort. They accepted it, placing their hand on hers.

"Are we gonna go to the fair now?" asked Lily.

"Of course, if you're still up for it," said Hermione.

"Yes!"

"I won't keep you then," said Mr. Weatherby. "It was lovely meeting you all."

"You go on," said Mrs. Cohen. "Stop by the office anytime tomorrow, Hermione dear. I'll have everything ready for you."

"Thank you, ma'am." Hermione stood up and shook Mr. Weatherby's hand. "It was good to meet you, sir."

"You too, Miss Granger," said Mr. Weatherby.

She had a house! A place she could turn into the place she had dreamed of since she was small. Part of her wished she wasn't going on holiday after all, but she knew that she would be able to handle the renovations way better after a good trip. Especially since she didn't know when she'd have the chance again.

Besides, fixing the place up would be a good way to spend her downtime. She'd get professionals for the big stuff, but she wanted to clean it and see what needed to be fixed and really take her time thinking about what she was going to do with it.

"What do you think of the house?" she asked Cedric.

"I think if I had the money I would have fought you for it," they said.

She chuckled and turned her attention to the path in front of her. Oh no… This wasn't just a crush. She was falling for them, wasn't she?

Dammit.