Chapter Fourteen
No one would give Hermione a job. It was quickly becoming embarrassing. Each new rejection hurt and made her question her own abilities. Doors weren't literally slammed in her face but she got the impression over and over again that she wasn't wanted. She didn't understand what was happening. Why couldn't she find a simple job?
After another failed attempt to find new employment, Hermione exited the London offices of the Daily Prophet feeling like she could do nothing right. The wizard in charge of hiring had been kind when he told her that she didn't possess the proper qualifications necessary for the position she applied for, but her feelings were still hurt. How did she not qualify? Was it because she hadn't taken her NEWTs yet? Telling the wizard she was preparing for the exams didn't change his mind about offering her the job. It made very little sense. She hadn't even applied for a skilled job. All she wanted was a chance to work in the basement opening the newspaper's post. What was wrong with her that she couldn't do that?
With nowhere else to go, she wandered down Diagon Alley hoping the outside exertion might put her in a better mood. Maybe there was something else she could do to find a job. Reading the newspaper and responding to signs in shop windows so far hadn't been working. Were there magical employment agencies like in the Muggle world who would help her find a job for a small fee? Where she might get the money for the fee would be difficult, but she was running out of options. Never would she have imagined it would be so difficult to find employment. She almost wished she hadn't burned Borgin and Burkes down.
Christmas was only two days away. Time had flown quickly since she arrived in the past with Draco. Usually it was her favorite time of year. Everything changed with the war. She worried that for as long as she lived, she would approach that season with bitterness in her heart. It was difficult to look forward to what her new reality had become.
Everyone around her in Diagon Alley seemed to be in high spirits anticipating the upcoming joyous holiday. Hogwarts was out and happy children were running up and down the Alley pointing out potential gifts in the shop windows. All of the displays were full to near bursting to show off each shop's individual stock in hopes to lure in more shoppers to buy their gifts. All Hermione could focus on were the signs she saw advertising they were hiring.
Several shops needed extra help for the busy season. She would've assumed they would be glad for any help they could get. While it certainly wasn't her first choice, Hermione choked down her pride to inquire within. Each time she spoke with the usually weary and overwhelmed shopkeeper they were happy to see her until she said her name. Then every single one of them thanked her for her interest but the position had already been filled. None of the signs were ever removed from the windows. It happened far too often for it to merely be a coincidence.
He never said so out loud but she knew Draco was frustrated with her for not finding a job yet. Maybe he didn't think she was even trying. She wasn't sure why she hadn't told him about the repeated rejections. Likely it was because she was embarrassed. It was never easy to admit to being unwanted.
Somehow he was able to pay for two rooms and all of their meals on his small salary. The facts didn't add up. She could tell he was keeping something from her but she wasn't sure what it could be. Perhaps she deserved his silence after she kept secrets from him for so long. It was entirely possible they could have been further along in their mission to destroy the horcruxes if she'd only told him sooner. One couldn't live forever in regret however. The past couldn't really be changed, not even by time travelers. She just had to move on and try somehow to be better in the future.
Flourish and Blotts was lit up with the same lights as every other shop. She had been avoiding her favorite shop for a long time because money was so tight. Even before she burned down her place of employment there wasn't a lot of money for life's little luxuries. A lot of her money had to go towards her textbooks and study materials to take her NEWTs. How she was going to pay the registration fees for the exams in a few months was something that worried her.
If she had to choose a shop to work in, she would choose the bookseller. Not only did it never cease to make her happy when she was wandering down its aisles and smelling the comforting scents of its inventory, she hoped there was an employee discount. When she saw the sign announcing there was a job to be found inside, she was surprised. It hadn't been in the window the day before. Was it possible that she could catch the shopkeeper before they filled the position?
As she pushed open the shop door, Hermione tried to ignore the sting of rejection she'd already experienced that morning. There was absolutely no reason she shouldn't be offered a job selling books. She was an avid reader and she already had some experience working in a shop. What other qualifications were required?
A dark-haired young wizard in his mid-twenties on a ladder called out to her in greeting when she entered. While there were a few patrons, most people didn't get very excited about a new book for a Christmas present. Seeing no one else that appeared to be an employee, she headed straight for the ladder. The wizard held a large stack of heavy textbooks high in the air with a levitating charm. She waited until he finished with his task and was descending the ladder to speak.
"Excuse me, but I'm here about the sign in the window. I'd like to speak to someone about a job."
The wizard's face split into a pleased grin. Instantly she felt more at ease. He seemed kind. Maybe he wouldn't reject her like everyone else.
"Blimey, that didn't take long. I just put the sign up before I climbed this ladder."
She felt even more excited and hopeful. If she was the first to apply, she had an advantage, didn't she? His smile was infectious. Suddenly the arse in the Daily Prophet office no longer mattered. The day was going to get better.
"Well, the job's not much, I'm afraid. Not very exciting at any rate. I need someone to help customers and keep the shop organized."
"I can do that. I've worked in a shop before."
"Good. That makes it easier. How do you feel about books?"
A nervous giggle was her first response. Worried she was in danger of not being taken seriously, she cleared her throat. The wizard only smiled. Already he seemed charmed by her but in a much different way than the creep Borgin had. Could it hurt her chances if she tried to use that to her benefit? Desperate times called for desperate measures. She could forgive herself later for engaging in a little harmless flirtation if it got her the job.
"I like books a lot. Always have."
"That also helps. When can you start?"
"Immediately."
Was her string of impossibly bad luck really about to be over? It wasn't glamorous or exciting but it was a job. She long ago passed the point where she could be picky. The wizard laughed at her answer.
"I could use the help. Dorcas left us in a hurry at the worst possible time of year. I suppose I could offer you a trial, Miss…"
He held out his hand to shake hers. Excited, she shook it firmly.
"Granger. My name is Hermione Granger."
The smile fell off the wizard's face at the mention of her name. He pulled his hand back.
"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but I spoke too hastily. I'm afraid I can't offer you a position. Happy Christmas."
Just like with all of the others he was ready to hire her until he heard her name. Unlike with all of the others, Hermione was fed up with not understanding what the problem was. Instead of wandering quietly away as she had done before, she grabbed the wizard's arm before he could rush away.
"Why? Why can't you give me a job?"
"Please release me, Miss Granger."
"No! Not until you tell me why you refuse to hire me."
He didn't know how stubborn she could be. Sensing she wasn't just going to quietly go away, the uncomfortable wizard lowered his voice to a whisper. Some of the other patrons stared. Hermione didn't care if all of London was a witness as long as she got an answer.
"You have a poor reputation, Miss Granger. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I don't think you are going to have much luck trying to work in London again. I would suggest moving to another city. Maybe it would be different for you there."
She wanted a better explanation, but he refused to tell her more than he already had. Clearly he didn't want to have the conversation with her. Why was he nervous? Something didn't make any sense. Frustrated and annoyed, she stormed out of the shop, swearing to herself that she would never enter Flourish and Blotts again as long as she lived. If she wasn't good enough to work there, they weren't good enough to get her money… assuming she ever earned another bronze knut which was seeming increasingly unlikely.
Hoping the cold would help calm her down, she decided to take a long walk. If what the bookseller told her was true, she didn't have anything else to do. The wizarding world was like a small town where everyone gossiped far too much. Was she being held responsible for her former place of employment burning down? It seemed highly unfair even if it was technically true.
Walking helped slightly. Before she even realized where she was going, Hermione was surprised to find herself back in Knockturn Alley. For months she was used to walking there without giving it much thought. She probably could've done it with her eyes closed. Since the incident with the fire she had been avoiding the area. An already dismal place to begin with, it was worse after the destruction her spell caused. Three entire buildings were destroyed and several others were partially damaged. She'd been scared to find out the full report. What if she killed more than just Borgin? It was hard enough to live with one death on her conscience.
She felt sick staring at the blackened space where she once lived and worked. Borgin and Burkes was something of a Knockturn Alley landmark that was just gone. It wouldn't be rebuilt. With Borgin dead and Burke nearly dead, there would be no one to run the shop. An article in the Daily Prophet a few days earlier described the difficult ordeal Burke was going through trying to recover any of the money he lost with his insurance companies. She might have felt sorry for the elderly wizard losing his life's work if he ever showed an ounce of compassion for any of the poor young women his partner harassed.
"Returning to the scene of the crime?"
Startled at the voice, Hermione spun around to see Tom Riddle watching her only steps away. His face was expressionless but intense. How did he sneak up on her so quietly? Or was she really that consumed in her own thoughts she didn't notice him?
"I beg your pardon?"
His smirk scared her more than his face when he was angry. She preferred him when he looked like the monster he would become after the ritual with his Muggle father's bones in the graveyard during the Triwizard Tournament's third task. There was something not quite right about him in human form even if she couldn't deny he was very handsome. He stalked closer and lowered his voice.
"The scene of Mr. Borgin's crime, I meant. He was the one that cast the Fiendfyre that killed him, was he not?"
Somehow he knew more than he was willing to admit. Maybe he thought he could intimidate Hermione enough to reveal details he hadn't quite figured out yet. Like Borgin, he underestimated her.
"Of course he was. He was a foolish man who cast a foolish spell."
"Yes, he was. He was also a foolish man who had trouble keeping his trousers on around pretty, young witches."
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"You don't?"
Tom scoffed. Clearly he didn't believe her. She tried to keep her face as calm and expressionless as possible. Maybe she could trick him.
"You're not as good of a liar as you think you are, Miss Granger. Any idiot can see it all over your face and I'm far from an idiot."
She tried very hard not to show she was nervous. Even if he wasn't a Legilimens yet, he could still tell when she was holding something back. Did he suspect she knew about his diary the day he approached her in The Leaky Cauldron to ask for his books back? It was tempting to run away from the wizard before he could ask her any additional questions she couldn't answer. As much as she didn't want to be around him, she was afraid of him. A relatively unknown person at the time, it would be suspicious if she feared him for seemingly no reason.
"Is there something in particular I can help you with today, Mr. Riddle?"
His amused smirk somehow managed to make him appear even more handsome. If she didn't know the monster he already was and how much worse he would soon become, Hermione might have found him charming.
"My path happened to cross with Mr. Borgin's shortly before his unfortunate death. He spoke highly of you. Very highly. Said you were the most organized shopgirl he'd ever hired and seemed to think you weren't entirely without intelligence. He also made several other remarks about your… arse."
Immediately embarrassed and disgusted to know Borgin spoke about her physical attributes so openly with strangers, she nearly missed Tom Riddle's sneer.
"I can assure you I have no interest in that, but your other skills may prove useful."
Thoroughly confused, Hermione had a dozen different questions she wanted to ask but didn't know where to begin. At least she could take some comfort in the fact that the monster wasn't interested in forcing himself upon her like Borgin. That was a nightmare scenario she didn't want to contemplate. She also feared knowing the truth. If Voldemort needed her for something, it couldn't be good.
"I've recently returned from several years abroad. During my travels, I've acquired a large number of artifacts and books that I need organized and catalogued. Someone with your organizational skills could be a helpful asset."
"Are you offering me a job?"
Surely she was misunderstanding everything he was saying. He smirked again and she fought the urge to curse him right in his perfect teeth. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?
"Yes, I suppose I am."
"Thank you for the offer, Mr. Riddle, but…"
"You haven't had much success finding one elsewhere. I wouldn't be so hasty to refuse. What is that trite saying? 'Beggars can't afford to be choosers'."
"How did you..?"
All of the pieces began to click into place. She hadn't been crazy at all. There really were outside forces keeping her from being hired no matter how hard she tried.
"You did something. No one will hire me. It's your fault. What did you do?"
"I only mentioned to a few prospective employers that it was odd your last boss died in a building destroyed by Fiendfyre while you were alone with him, but it was a miracle you were able to get out in time."
She knew he did more than just start a few well-placed rumors to make no one want her as an employee. Knowing how evil he was, she suspected he resorted to more creative and effective methods than simply gossip. Why? Why did he go to such extreme lengths to make sure no one would hire her? Unless he suspected she must know something about his lost diary she wasn't telling him. Perhaps it was the whole 'keep your enemies closer' idea that spurred him on to ruin her chances.
"I wouldn't dream of asking you to start working until after Christmas, of course. I'm not a tyrant. I'll send you an owl with my address so you'll know where to go Monday morning. You're still in Room Eleven at The Leaky Cauldron, correct? Or did you move next door to Number Ten?"
It would never cease to be unnerving that he knew so much about her or where to find her if he required an audience. He didn't allow her to turn down his job offer. She felt trapped, but could it work to her benefit?
"Happy Christmas, Miss Granger."
Satisfied that he was getting exactly what he wanted, Tom Riddle walked further down Knockturn Alley with a pleased grin. Hermione stared at him until he disappeared from view. No longer comfortable remaining in front of the pile of ashes that had been Borgin and Burkes, she headed back to The Leaky Cauldron. At least she could give Draco the good news that she finally had a job. All the way down Knockturn Alley and then Diagon Alley she thought about her bizarre encounter with Voldemort.
Was she asking for trouble accepting his offer to work for him? It wasn't like he gave her much of a choice, but she supposed she theoretically could refuse if she didn't mind facing the possibility she might never work anywhere again and she could become a personal enemy of the future Dark Lord. There was always potential for danger to be so close to him. She couldn't ignore that there was also opportunity. What if she could make herself invaluable to him, make him trust her? Maybe it would be easier to find his horcruxes before he put them in their final hiding places. She certainly didn't want to have to wait fourteen more years to endure the horror of an inferi-infested lake inside a cave just to get the locket. If she was responsible for organizing his treasures, was it possible she could get her hands on the vessels that stored pieces of his soul?
She always had the option of working for him for a little while before making her final decision about whether she should stay. The past, her past, taught her the lesson that he wasn't the sort to appreciate being surrounded by incompetence. A few mistakes here and there could ensure that he banished her from his sight if she truly wanted to get away.
No matter where her mind wandered, no matter how awful the worst-case scenario was, she had the gut feeling that she had to get closer to him if she wanted to defeat him. Regulus Black had to pretend he was one of his most faithful followers to get close enough to steal the locket. Lucius Malfoy was just given the diary for safekeeping because he was so trusted by his Dark Lord. And the Lestranges proved over and over again they were willing to do anything to serve him and were rewarded with the special task of storing his horcrux in their Gringotts vault. If she wanted to defeat him, she would have to be willing to get uncomfortably close.
"Hermione!"
Draco's voice startled her out of her thoughts. For a second time that day she cursed herself for not paying close attention. What if he was someone who wasn't friendly? She had to get a hold of herself. Realizing they were standing just outside their temporary home, she didn't even remember walking that far. Future Moody would be displeased with her lack of constant vigilance.
"I called your name several times. Everything all right?"
There was laughter in his tone, but she knew he had been concerned about her for a long time.
"Sorry, just thinking. I'm fine. What are you doing here so early? Making a delivery?"
"No. Miss Doris let me leave early. Even gave me a Christmas bonus. I feel a little guilty accepting it."
"You shouldn't. You've been working very hard lately. Don't think I haven't noticed."
Hermione sighed. There was no reason to delay having the uncomfortable conversation any longer. It needed to happen. She'd already promised him that she would improve her communication with him. Whether it was planned or not, they were partners in their little adventure thanks to the Room of Requirement.
"I appreciate how hard you've been working, Draco. I know that I haven't been any help at all."
"I wouldn't say…"
"No, stop. You and I both know I've contributed nothing but the last few sickles I had saved since the fire. I promise you I was trying to find a job even if it didn't seem like I was."
It was Draco's turn to sigh. She knew he had been frustrated with her inability to find employment. Did he doubt she was telling the truth? Honestly, she wouldn't blame him if he did.
"I was offered a job today."
"That's wonderful news."
"I'm not sure it is actually."
Draco's brow furrowed. She knew it would be better to just blurt it out.
"I'll be working as Tom Riddle's personal assistant."
"You can't be serious. Absolutely not."
They needed to have a serious discussion somewhere they wouldn't be overheard. He deserved to know every detail of her frustrating job hunt and the conversation she had with the wizard in Knockturn Alley, but it was far too dangerous to speak about it in the open. She grabbed Draco's hand to tug him inside. Either they would speak freely in her room or his.
Only steps inside the busy and festive tavern, they were halted in their plans to sneak upstairs. From across the room they spotted Igor rising from a table. Draco exhaled another deep, frustrated exhale. His good mood from earlier was nearly gone. It would be the height of rudeness to ignore their visitor. Hermione waved at her friend to let him know she saw him.
"One drink, Hermione. One drink and we go upstairs, damn Karkaroff's feelings. You and I have to talk."
There was nothing to do but agree with his terms. The length of time it took to consume one drink was all Draco was able to stand being in Igor's presence on a good day when they didn't have pressing matters to discuss. Refusing to release his hand lest he change his mind when they got to the table, Hermione all but pulled him.
When they reached Igor's table they could see that their former neighbor wasn't alone. A middle-aged wizard stood when they approached. The atmosphere was tense, uncomfortable. Even Igor looked as if he would rather be anywhere else in the world but there. What was going on?
"Hermione, may I introduce my potions master? This is Hector Dagworth-Granger."
The world-renowned potioneer extended his hand to shake Hermione's. She kept a firm hold on Draco's with her other. Though she didn't understand yet what was happening, she knew it was significant.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hermione. Would it be possible for the two of us to have a private chat?"
She dropped Hector's hand and reached for Draco's arm. Understanding that she wasn't willing to let her companion leave her side, the wizard nodded his head in agreement. Igor didn't waste a second rushing off to the bar to give the three of them some privacy. When they were all seated at the table, Hector went straight into what he wanted to say.
"Young Karkaroff over there suspected months ago that I had a daughter I might not be aware of. There are potions that can be brewed if one has a little bit of blood from each person."
Remembering how Igor accidentally cut her outside of the interrogation room in the Ministry of Magic with his ring, Hermione felt angry. What right did the frustrating wizard have to take some of her blood without asking? It was dangerous to allow another to have access to a person's blood, especially if they were gifted and skilled with potion-making.
"I didn't think it was possible that I had a daughter, but I thought I would humor the boy and teach him a paternity potion. Those can be quite lucrative in the right circumstances. Very interesting results, Miss Granger. Can you explain to me how it's possible that I have a twenty year old granddaughter when my only son is nineteen?"
