Coming Up…

Ginny's cold glare landed on Hermione, and the beautiful girl she saw earlier suddenly seemed ugly.

Pearl Eye

Chapter 2

Of the Rich and Famous

After only a week in wizarding society, Hermione understood barely anything about the new world that was now her home. It was a blur after she accepted her job: she had to enroll in school, determine her schedule, get her money, buy schoolbooks (plus plenty more to better acclimate herself into this realm), and the most arduous task, training with Winky, the Potter's house-elf. She had to learn the ins and outs of caring for an established and wealthy family and their home. And apparently a lot went into it.

Because the Potters were filthy rich.

Her first day stepping into the mansion via floo, she entered a large ballroom, marble floor gleaming white along with the rest of the room. Gold accents elevated the space, the golden chandelier seemingly filling half of the ceiling.

Hermione looked in awe, thinking to herself, Why the hell would anyone need a ballroom in this age?

But what she soon learned was the wizarding world wasn't as modern as the non-magical one, specifically when it came to the elite. The advent of technology hadn't touched this world — they had no use for it with magic. And while they had their own version of modernity, it was one totally different from what Hermione knew. Which was kind of refreshing — she hoped without the distraction of phones and social media, she'd be able to connect with people who better understood her. Always an outcast even before her magic bloomed, she looked forward to the friendships she might form.

After her entrance in the ballroom, Hermione spent the next week under Winky's tutelage. The three-story mansion had 6 bedrooms, 8.5 bathrooms, the fancy ballroom, a massive kitchen, dining room, a library, and two sitting rooms — one for entertaining guests and the other for aesthetics, which no one was allowed to enter.

And Winky seemed to be the only one taking care of the estate.

Hermione's gaze traveled around the kitchen as the two began prepping for a massive feast. "Why won't they hire anyone else? It seems kind of cruel to leave this all to you."

Winky shook her head, dropping the large pot on the stove. It looked like Hermione's words pained her. "NO! Master Potter and Mistress Potter is NEVER cruel to Winky! They even pay Winky even though Winky don't want it. They still pay Winky the same wage even though Winky won't be here all the time anymore. No! Master and Mistress loves Winky!"

Hermione smiled at the elf. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean any harm. It's great to know they've treated you so well."

Winky grinned and got back to cooking. "Besides," she began, "Winky has help. Winky is in charge of the home, but elves come and go to help with dinner and to clean on the weekends. Winky gets to tell them what to do." She poked her chest out proudly, and Hermione was relieved to know she wasn't the only one doing the work — and that she wouldn't be either.

"So I haven't seen Har— Mr. and Mrs. Potter since I began working here. Are they not often in the home?" She kind of liked the idea of living in a large mansion alone… but it also terrified her. Too big of a house meant you never knew who was lurking.

"Master and Mistress went on vacation. They'll be back tonight. That's why you and Winky are preparing a feast! Mistress's mum, dad, and siblings are coming over for their weekly dinner."

"Oh, that's nice!" Hermione loved that they were a close family — it made her miss her parents. But they'd be proud to know she was earning her keep and independently paying for college. "Will Mr. Potter's family be joining, as well?"

Winky grew silent, which made Hermione stop cutting carrots and look the elf's way. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. Winky sometimes forgets that Hermione is new to the wizarding world." Winky looked up at her with tears in her eyes. "No, Master Potter's family won't be joining." And she returned to work.

Hermione was curious about what that meant, but Winky's reaction was so strong, she knew it was best to leave it alone. A sadness washed over Hermione, though, knowing that this man who seemed admired and respected by all, whose public persona seemed too perfect, that he perhaps had a past so painful that Winky couldn't even utter it.

Hours later, she heard the Weasley family enter the estate. But with so much more to do, Winky, Hermione, and two other elves continued cooking. She heard the family laughing from the sitting room and knew they were waiting for dinner to arrive. Hermione was a bit put off that none of the family bothered to say hello — not even Harry — but she remembered that the wealthy perhaps saw them as lowly, undeserving of their presence.

Knowing this might be the case, Hermione's perception of Harry twisted. Perhaps he wasn't as down-to-earth as she speculated. Maybe he fit the pretentious WASP stereotype she despised.

There was no time to ponder. Working against the clock, they had to have dinner on the table by 8pm. Since Hermione didn't know how to use her magic yet, she couldn't magic the dishes from the kitchen like the elves did. But she did know how to set silverware — or so she thought. Winky had to come behind her, grumbling that Muggles and Wizards had different ways of setting tables. Clearly, Hermione had much more to learn.

When the turkey was on a platter in the center of the table, side dishes surrounding it in antique bowls, the elves made final touches so that the layout was beautiful. Hermione didn't know food could look so glamorous.

Winky turned to Hermione when all was set, right as the clock struck 8. "It'll be your job now on to attend to their evening needs. When you call them for dinner, you must say, 'Mistress Weasley, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, dinner is served. Please, follow me.'"

Hermione raised a brow. "Do I have to say Mistress?"

Winky glared and Hermione lifted her hands in surrender. Then, Winky shoved her towards the sitting room. She stood in the doorway, but no one noticed her, not immediately. She cleared her throat and said loudly, "Uh Mistress Weasley, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, dinner is served. Please, follow me."

The family looked at her in shock and disgust. No one moved. One boy evaluated her body from head to toe, making her wish she wasn't wearing the too-tight uniform Winky gave her. That she even had to wear a maid's uniform was bizarre, but then she remembered that it was a traditional part of wizarding culture. Luckily, in another day or two, she'd have her size with a looser fit and longer length.

A beautiful, young witch with red hair in an elegant bun on her head, spoke up, "Are you the new help? Hermeny, I believe."

"It's Hermione, and yes. I'll be working here when Winky cannot."

She shared a look with her mother before standing from her seat. "Well, then. Do your job. Guide us to the dining room.

Hermione nodded quickly, sweeping the room to see 8 people, none of whom were Harry. As she walked down the hall, she wondered where he could be.

"Where are you going?" Ginny suddenly snapped behind her.

Hermione noticed too late that she had walked them towards the stairwell, far away from the dining room. Trying to suppress an eye roll — why would they follow her when they knew where the dining room was? — she apologized and headed the other direction. Winky and the other elves pulled out chairs and pushed them in for the entire family until all were seated. But the seat at the head of the table was empty.

Hermione stood in the corner, watching everything happen. She didn't feel too useful, felt like she was shadowing a mother on Bring Your Child to Work Day.

Speaking of mothers, Mrs. Weasley kept looking at her incredulously. Finally, she asked, "Why are you here, girl? Why are you just standing there? Make yourself useful! Bring me wine."

Hermione nodded and looked around until she found the wine bottle. She picked it up by hand and was about to pour it in her glass when they all gasped in horror. Hermione put the bottle down and fearfully stepped back. "What?" she asked, looking around nervously. "What happened?"

"Girl, did you touch this bottle? Use your magic! You should know not to come near the table while we eat."

"My apologies, ma'am. I'm not familiar with wizarding traditions. I'm learning quickly, though."

The whole family quieted and stared at her with questions in their eyes. "You're not familiar with our traditions?"

"No," Hermione said simply. Surely, Harry told them about her. But their shocked faces told her otherwise. This was getting uncomfortable.

"You picked up the wine bottle with your hands… does that mean you can't do magic, either? Are you a squib, girl?"

Hermione, remembering what a squib was, shook her head. "No, not a squib. And I'm learning more about magic. I, uh… it only started showing this past year."

"As an adult?" A boy who looked her age asked with no tact — he was the same one who lasciviously looked her up and down.

"Yes." Hermione felt extremely awkward. And looking at Winky, she knew she wouldn't be getting any help. They, too, were following tradition.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes burrowed into her, suspicious and relentless. "So what is your purpose if you can't do magic and you don't know the traditions necessary to upkeep a home?" Her gaze turned to her daughter. "You're the lady of the house. Did you not know of her incompetencies? Did you even know she'd be coming?"

Ginny's cold glare landed on Hermione, and the beautiful girl she saw earlier suddenly seemed ugly. "Yes, I knew we hired a new maid, even though I begged Harry for another elf. But he takes pity on strays — she has no money, no education, and he's doing a personal favor for the Minister of Magic, since they want to keep an eye on her. After all, she's the first of her kind. Mud—… Muggleborn who comes into her magic at such a late age."

Her steely tone conveyed her disdain for Hermione — and perhaps those born to non-magical parents.

This seemed to put Mrs. Weasley at ease. "Well, if it's for the Minister…"

And regular conversation commenced as if they had never addressed her. As if she was invisible once again. Which in that moment, she preferred! Then she got to thinking. Was Harry's job offer not such a coincidence? Was she some kind of science experiment that the government was keeping an eye on?

The idea lowered her opinion of Harry even more.

And then he walked into the dining room. "Hello, good evening," He said with a smile to the family.

Upon his arrival, the entire family's condescending demeanor changed. Mrs. Weasley grinned brilliantly. Ginny stood from her seat and greeted her husband with a kiss to the cheek. And the others said their hellos with great enthusiasm. Clearly, everyone treated him like a god, even in the comfort of his own home.

Who was this man and why was everyone obsessed with pleasing him?

Then he smiled at Winky, and greeted the house-elves, who the Weasley family hadn't even acknowledged. Winky ran forth and took Harry's robe, which he thanked her for. Then he turned to Hermione with that friendly smile she saw the week before when he hired her. "Hermione, how are you adjusting?"

Hermione tried to ignore the glare Ginny shot in her periphery, and said in shock, "Uh, it's going well enough. I'm definitely out of my element."

"It'll get better, just give it time." Then he sat down and the elves made his plate. She noticed he was the only one in the room who thanked them, leaving her with an even more muddled perception of who this man was or could be.

But, truthfully, he seemed like he'd be hard to know. Even here he in his home he was cordial and kind, an abstract idea of who a cordial and kind man should be. She then understood that he wasn't real, and her curiosity was piqued. Why is he hiding himself?

Her reverie was disrupted when she felt eyes on her. She looked at the table to see the red haired boy her age ogling her again. She tried to hide her look of disgust, then Harry said, "Winky, why don't you and Hermione start cleaning the kitchen. Without some magic, you'll need the extra time."

His words weren't meant to be cruel, but the Weasleys laughed as if they were. Fortunately, Hermione wasn't easily intimidated and she softly smiled, trying not to laugh at their desperate attempts to ridicule her and stay in Harry's good graces.

In the kitchen, Winky used her magic to do most of the cleaning until Hermione insisted she go home to her family. She didn't want to, at first, but she was told by the Potters she was free to leave at 2pm without notice. And so, with much convincing, she finally disapparated, leaving Hermione alone with hopefulness that she soon would be able to disapparate as well.

Looking behind her, Hermione grabbed her wand — she wanted to try something she saw a child in Hogsmeade do. With a flourish of her wand, she spoke, "Accio dish."

And she had to duck to prevent the bowl from hitting her in the face. Instead, it crashed against the opposite wall.

Fuck. She could hear the Weasleys loud complaints and protestations about her ability to oversee an estate of this magnitude when the dish broke.

Maybe they were right. The elves were able to upkeep with magic — Hermione couldn't even lift a bowl. Why was she here?

But then Harry entered the kitchen and looked around. "Everything okay?"

Hermione hid her wand behind her back and said, "Sorry, I dropped a dish. It won't happen again."

Harry smirked, walking so he stood directly in front of her. With mere inches between them, Hermione couldn't control the way her heartbeat sped up, especially when he put his arm behind her and…

And pulled her wand from her hand. He took a step back and held her wand up with a raised brow. "You sure you dropped it?"

Hermione wrung her hands together with a nervous laugh. "Okay, maybe I was trying some magic. I'm just excited to get started."

"Well, while you're here, I can help you with anything you're learning."

She perked up. He was, after all, the Head Auror in his department — he had to be one of the most powerful wizards to be in that position. "Would you really?" She asked hopefully.

He whacked her arm, the way old buddies would do. "Absolutely." And he handed her wand back before walking out of the room — and she felt like an absolute bro.

The Weasleys long gone, Hermione still stood at the sink, washing and drying dishes. She daydreamed about sinking into her king-sized bed with the fluffiest comforter she'd ever laid on. The door to the kitchen opened, disrupting her fantasy, and Harry came back in. He wore sweatpants and a t-shirt — she was shocked to see him in such Muggle clothes, and even more shocked to see him again at this hour.

Noticing her stare, he tugged on his pants, unknowingly emphasizing the print hanging low on his leg. Hermione hid her blush while Harry said, "Yeah, sweatpants aren't too common here. Pity, they're bloody comfortable."

Hermione rubbed the back of sud-sodden hand against her forehead to sweep hair out of her eyes. "Definitely did not expect to see them on you. I assume you've visited the Muggle world?"

"Was raised there," he said as he walked to the fridge. Using a spell, he grabbed a cup and poured himself some water. Hermione watched, enthralled, which brought an amused smile to Harry's face.

"Are there a lot of people from the non-magic world? It's still so strange to call it that," she asked.

"It takes time to get used to. But a good number of people were born and raised there. My mother was born to Muggle parents, my father pureblood."

"Pureblood? That sounds a bit antiquated."

Harry smirked. "Welcome to the Wizarding World."

Hermoine smiled back before letting it drop, Ginny's words coming to mind. "I know I work for you, and I'm so grateful for this job, but… I heard that you hired me as a favor to the Minister of Magic. Is that true?"

His own smile fell, too. "Ah, I assume my wife's family was gossiping. Well, yes. It's a favor — in your unique situation, he wanted to place you somewhere safe, and as Head Auror, he felt you'd be safest under my roof."

"Why wouldn't I be safe?" Her voice trembled at the possibility of being harmed.

As he opened his mouth, his wife's voice loudly echoed through the home, "Harry! Why are you taking so long, love?"

In response to Hermione's confused face, Harry placed his wand to his throat and said back, "Coming, dear," his voice too echoing loudly throughout the home. Hermione grinned, forgetting about their conversation as she focused her eyes back on the magic.

Then, with a flourish of his wand, he took care of the remaining dishes until the kitchen was, at last, clean. "Like I said, you'll get the hang of it. And don't worry about your safety. With me around, you'll always be okay."

And this time when he touched her arm, it wasn't the kind of slap buddies exchanged. It was gentle, his fingertips lingering a moment too long, and like that, he was gone.

Hermione bit her lip, feeling her stomach drop at the sensation his touch sent through her body. Maybe she imagined it, maybe it meant nothing, but her reaction to him told her everything she needed to know:

She was going to have a hard time taming her attraction. And maybe he would too.

A/N: Let me know what you think, please review! Thanks for reading :)

Up Next…

A shocking sight. And Ron reveals his true intentions.