Hello! Welcome to my new fic! I am slowly wrapping up the last Hermione/Draco story I have written, so I decided to get going with something new. I couldn't get this one out of my head, so I'm rolling with it! As always, I'd love to hear from you on if you are enjoying the story - constructive words always welcome too, they help me become a better writer!
That said, I hope you enjoy!
Note that there will be mature themes throughout this story, including allusions to PTSD, anxiety, lemons etc.
Chapter 1
Hermione Granger hummed to herself quietly as she opened another box of books, using a Stanley knife to cut away the brown tape. She pulled the first out, thumbing the pages and popping it onto the shelf; its new home until someone purchased it. It had a beautiful cover, the gilded letters delicately whispering across the page, a stark contrast to the solid navy coat it wore.
When she'd first returned to the muggle world, she'd worried she'd grow bored and the monotonous existence would weigh on her without the excitement of magic. However, it had been three years and she was still happy she'd fled the Wizarding World, leaving everything behind in her wake. She hadn't returned to her family home, there was nothing left there anyway (her parents long gone to Australia with no way of returning, their memories gone for good) and it would be the first place people would look to find her. She definitely didn't want that; after all, how can you flee your past if the faces that haunt your memories still circle.
She'd found it hard to leave the fear behind, even though the war was over and Harry had won. Hard was maybe an understatement. The nightmares had be horrific. Screaming panic attacks that roused even Ron from his slumber - and that was almost an impossible feat. Hermione had suffered through weeks, months even, of nightmares, barely able to sleep, eat or move. She'd looked and felt like a ghost. One day, she'd snapped, collected the belongings she wanted while Harry was out doing something or other, and left without a trace.
Part of her knew it wasn't fair on those who loved her. Leaving was cowardly, and she'd abandoned Harry and Ron to face the limelight, gossip and rebuild alone. But, the choice was either lose her friends or her sanity and, for the first time in eight years, she chose to put herself first. Aside from the wand she took everywhere, there was almost no trace of her former existence. She'd moved out of London, into a small country cottage somewhere around Lancashire, bringing only Crookshanks and a suitcase of muggle clothes.
Even looking in the mirror, the traces of her childhood self were gone. Within days, she'd died and chemically straighted her hair, changing it from its normal, bushy style to one of ponytails and braids. She'd even swapped her clothes, opting for soft, feminine dresses and cardigans instead of jeans.
When she'd left, she'd written Harry and Ron a note, telling them she was sorry but she just couldn't do it anymore. She was done; with magic, the wizarding world, the bigotry and hatred she'd dealt with for years... she was done with all of it. So, she'd gone and she'd asked them not to find her. She'd known they would try, but she had made it incredibly hard and so far, until this rainy Tuesday morning, she'd succeeded.
Hermione smiled to herself, using a hold on the shelf to hoist herself to her feet. The lack of movement that morning had made her bones stiff and she rolled one ankle and then the other, twisting her back to work out the kinks. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the bell ring, signalling a customer.
It had been a quiet day so far, not unusual for a bookshop on a Tuesday, but she was definitely looking forward to a little bit of chit-chat. So as to not look too eager, she continued with her task, allowing the customer to peruse at their leisure; she'd check on them in a few minutes.
Palming a stack of books, Hermione placed one foot and then the second onto the first rung of the solid mahogany ladder. She had placed the books on a shelf she could reach from the groud, safety first, and then climbed, reaching down as she went to pick up one at a time. "Excuse me?" A deep voice called up to her from the ground causing her to falter slightly, but she placed the book down and held on tightly.
"Just one moment," she said, smiling and starting to lower one foot, "I don't have the best head for heights."
"Take your time." The stranger leant against a nearby shelf and watched her as she descended. She'd taken the chance to quickly look down at him, but had rapidly refocused on the tast at hand as she felt a foot falter. As she hit the ground, she brushed her hands on her skirt and turned to the stranger.
He was looking at a map in his hands, so she could only see the top of his brown head of hair. He was rather tall, standing a good foot above her five foot six frame. "So, how can I help?"
"Well," he still hadn't looked up, talking to the map instead, "I'm visiting the area and I'm rather lost."
She stepped closer, also moving to look over the large map he'd now properly unfurled. It was one of those trail maps, she had one herself.
"Where were you looking for?" She waited.
"I'm looking for the Hotel Belvedere, it was meant to be near the river, but I keep circling and I just can't seem to..." He trailed off. Hermione, who was still looking at the map, hadn't noticed the tall man had looked up. She certainly hadn't noticed that he'd trailed off, not because he was leaving an obvious sentence to linger but because he'd seen her face. "Granger?"
She jumped back, wand drawn in a heartbeat. She hadn't heard someone call her Granger in years. The only people who knew that name were the people, the world, she'd left behind. She looked up, her eyes locking with fierce blue ones. The man they belonged to was holding his hands up in a mock surrender. "What are you doing here, Nott?"
"Hermione," he laughed, but it was humourless. "Calm down. I wasn't lying, im just lost."
"I don't believe you." She was hyperventilating now, her arm shaking as she tried to keep her wand steady. She wasn't ready, not now, not for whatever this was. It couldn't be a coincidence. "No one has come close to finding me in three years, yet a Death Eater stumbles into my bookshop? I may be out of practice, but I'm not thick, Theodore."
"Its Theo." He huffed, "And I've paid my dues Granger... twice over. You don't need to go around throwing insults, you don't hear me calling you names."
She ignored him, the thoughts about what dues he may have paid ignored for the moment, "What are you doing here?"
"Not looking for you, if that's what you are worried about. I might have changed, but I'm not part of the Potter brigade. Your secret is safe with me." She still hadn't lowered her wand, the wink he threw at her only strengthening her resolve.
Suddenly, the bell dinged again. Hermione spun quickly, her back pressing into Theo as she concealed her wand between them. They were currently in full view of the door, and the white haired lady who had just entered. "Hi, Margaret!" Hermione called, trying not to panic at the feel of Nott pressed against her back. But, she could sense his hands moving before she felt them. One hand touched her hip, the other reached between them, pulling her wand out of her slackened fingers and tucking it discretely into his own holder, "For my safety," he whispered against her ear. She felt like she was going to be sick on his fancy leather shoes.
"Hello dear," Margaret pottered up the aisle until she stood two feet from them. She looked at Hermione, Theo and the hand on her hip. Putting two and two together and coming up with one hundred and nighteen, Margaret smiled, "Am I finally meeting a boyfriend?"
Hermione was about to shake her head profusely, but Nott jumped in, "Just old... friends... wouldn't you say, Hermione? We went to school together, Hermione always nipped me to the post in every class. Down right maddening. But, who can stay made at such a beautiful woman?" He moved the hand on her hip until it was thrown around her shoulders and sent another of his winks Margaret's way.
Hermione couldn't believe her eyes as Margaret blushed and patted Nott on the shoulder. "Be wary of this one, he's a charmer." Hermione laughed at Margaret's assessment of the Slytherin; charming, hardly, but to be wary of, got it in one.
Margaret walked away, leaning heavily on her walking stick with one hand. She loved the cookery section, did Margaret, and Hermione always made sure to set a new one aside when it came in. The second the older woman rounded the corner, Hermione disengaged herself from Theo's arm, "How dare you take my wand!" She hissed, making sure to keep her voice low even though they were out of earshot.
Theo ignored her, looking around and pointing over his shoulder in Margaret's direction, "Colour me impressed, Granger. You've really managed to hide away for three years, built yourself a life." Theo nodded, "I'm not surprised it's surrounded by books, but some things never change, right?" Hermione fumed, ready to rip him to shreds. He didn't give her the chance, "I'll tell you what," He stepped closer, "Meet me for dinner tonight, my treat, and I'll give you back your wand. One meal, Granger, thats all I ask... and then I'll get out of your perfect, little life."
"What the fuck?" She started, but he'd already started to walk away.
He turned, calling back over his shoulder as he reached the door, "One dinner - seven o'clock, the pizzeria on the corner. Left or right for the hotel?"
"Left." Hermione's voice was almost a whisper, but he heard it. He started away and then popped his head back into view, "I like the hair, Granger, suits you."
Hermione muttered a silent, "Fuck off," as he disappeared, turning back to Margaret as the door snapped shut.
Fucking wonderful.
There we have it! So what did you think? :D
