A/N: Oh, I'm so pleased so many of you have been enjoying this fic so far. I can't wait to see what you make of this chapter.
xx-Kitten
All I Remember
By Kittenshift17
CHAPTER THREE
Sunday, 11th November, 1979
Diagon Alley, London
Hermione's breath caught in her throat as her gaze lifted to collide with his. Remus. The familiar green of his eyes was a delight to her senses, the bright colour reminding her of a nice fresh apple.
"Erm… are you alright?" he asked when Hermione simply stared at him, her tongue having glued to the roof of her mouth as she gaped at him in awe.
There was no other way to put it than to say that Remus Lupin was sex personified. Something that she doubted he'd be pleased to hear, but it was the truth nonetheless. Everything she'd heard and what little she'd seen suggested that Sirius was the handsomer of the two, but as she stared at a nineteen-year-old Remus Lupin, she was forced to disagree. Sirius Black was too pretty to be considered in league with Remus, at least in Hermione's opinion.
His hair was just a touch too long in front, falling into his eyes as though in an attempt to better hide the three scars that slashed through his left eyebrow, between his eyes and across his nose and part of his right cheek. It looked slightly shorter on one side than the other, too. Hermione suspected he'd probably tried to cut it himself to look respectable for the interview. He was dressed in professional looking robes that looked like they'd already had too much use. Hermione didn't doubt they had. They weren't yet shabby, but they were on their way simply because he had to use them so often to get new jobs.
"I…" Hermione's mouth moved while her brain was still reeling from the fact that she wanted to climb Remus like a tree, right there in the street in front of everyone. "I'm so sorry!"
Her cheeks flushed when she realised she'd been standing there gawping at him like an imbecile after having crashed into him.
"I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and I didn't even see you. I didn't hurt you, did I? Morgana's crows, I'm such an idiot! Please tell me I didn't step on your foot? Oh, no and you've dropped your briefcase, let me just…"
She pulled out of his grip and dived down to collect the case for him, barely registering the way the position meant her head was level with his stomach. Her brain had kicked into hyper-drive as a result of seeing Remus so young; so alive; so handsome. She was babbling and making a fool of herself, but now that her mouth had engaged, she seemed to have misplaced the brakes and words just kept tumbling out.
"Godric, and then I just stand there, gawping at you like a fool rather than using my manners or my bloody brain! I really wasn't expecting to run into so handsome a wizard and I should've been paying far more attention because goodness, I could've crashed into anybody, and it's not exactly the safest of times to be doing that and look at you. You're giving me that look people give me when I can't control the babble pouring out of my mouth and I'm sorry, but I swear I didn't mean to run into you and I hope you're not hurt."
Remus's eyes had widened when she'd begun to speak, and only widened further at the feel of her cheek brushing his belt buckle before she straightened and reached for his hand, pressing the handle of his briefcase into it without thinking that he might not want to touch her. Indeed, he looked all the more startled at being called handsome. Hermione had to physically clap her hand over her mouth to cease her chatter when his lips twitched like he wanted to laugh at her because she was making such a fool of herself.
Her cheeks heated, and Hermione offered him an expression of exasperated mortification, which he seemed to find all the funnier.
"Sorry," she blurted, uncovering her mouth to speak but pressing her fingertips to her lips once more to prevent more babbling. She didn't want him to think she was some brainless twit but for a moment she felt rather like one.
Was this how girls acted when handsome young men were around? Was this inexplicable urge to squeal in excitement at the very sight of him what had caused people like Lavender and Parvati to make such fools of themselves to gain the attention of boys? She didn't like it. Her stomach was doing triple backflips and she'd never felt this way before. Even with her crush on Remus when he'd been her teacher, she'd never had butterflies or babbled like this.
"Are you alright?" Remus asked her kindly, offering her a smile.
Hermione nodded her head vigorously, her eyes drinking in the sight of him. Merlin, she'd thought him handsome with wrinkles, grey threaded through his sandy hair and twenty years of grief, and loneliness, and his condition hanging on his face. But right there, in that moment, she was sure she'd never seen anyone as magnificent at Remus. He wasn't classically handsome or even anything all that unusual. In a most literal sense he had a memorable face entirely because of his scars and because of the way his lips twitched toward a teasing grin.
Yet to Hermione he was like an embodiment of all she could ever remember wanting. Indeed, she found her mouth parched with the need to reach up on her toes and snog him senseless. Judging by the way his nostrils flared, picking up her scent, Hermione realised he could probably smell her attraction to him, too. All the more mortified to be given away right from the off, Hermione wanted to turn around and dash away.
"I didn't hurt you?" he asked. "I'm sorry I grabbed you like that. I didn't want you to fall over."
"I… no, really it's no problem. Feel free to grab me anytime…wait… that came out wrong," Hermione's cheeks cut red once more and Remus actually began to laugh when she clapped her hand over her mouth once more. "Gods, this is just… mortifying. Why did I even come here today? More importantly, how did I manage it with my enormous foot lodged in my mouth? Please, just forget you ever saw me and try not to paint me in too harsh a light when you tell your friends about the walking disaster you were accosted by this morning."
Remus laughed softly, chuckling to himself whilst watching her intently. Hermione wanted to run away. She'd never wanted to do that before. At least, not without being chased by some kind of monster. Worse, she wanted to find somewhere to hide where no one could see her lecture herself for being such a babbling idiot. This wasn't her. She was bookish. A stern, collected sort of witch who had faced down Death Eaters, and raging centaurs, and a hungry werewolf. She wasn't a twit and she didn't want to act like one.
"I don't know who you are, little witch," Remus murmured, his eyes still fixed on her as they began to thread faintly with the gold of his alter-ego. "But I'm rather delighted to have run into you just now."
Hermione's eyes darted up to hold his stare and she wondered what he would do if he knew the wolf was peeking out of his eyes right then. She'd seen his eyes do it countless times in the past, often when he looked at her while she was animatedly arguing magical theory with him at Grimmauld Place and making Tonks want to beat them both over the head for debating such things at the dinner table.
"Hectate's hellions, I've not even introduced myself, even after practically using you as a target for battering ram practice. I'm so sorry. My name is Hermione," she blurted, her cheeks turning crimson once more as he pointed out that not only was she making a fool of herself, but she was also being rude.
"I'm Remus," he grinned. Hermione glanced down at the hand he offered for her to shake before reaching for it quickly. Too quickly. Merlin, now she looked overeager, too. Why didn't she just fling herself naked at his feet and beg him to love her while she was at it? "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hermione."
Hermione could only shake his hand continuously, feeling callouses on the palm of his hand and shivering at the way he idly traced the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand. She was staring again.
"I… um. Yes. A pleasure meet you, too," she said, having to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth when she recalled the right order the words should go in. "Are you quite sure I haven't damaged you, slamming into you like that? I can't apologise enough. It was careless of me to be so distracted and now I'm chattering again. You've got a brief case, you've probably got somewhere to be and I'm standing here chattering your ear off with needless prattle. I'm so sorry. I'd offer to buy you a coffee or something to make up for it but then you'd be subjected to more of my prattle, and sweet Circe, Hermione! Shut up before he realises you're insane and has you committed."
Hermione blinked in shock when this time it was Remus's fingertips pressing to her lips to silence her. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flooded once more. Indeed, the touch had another part of her body flooding too and she was certain he could smell that, too. Hermione trembled at the way he smiled at her.
Unbidden she found herself nipping the pads of his fingers where they rested so intimately against her lips and Hermione was going to need new knickers. His expression went from intrigued and amused to hot and hungry in a second flat, his eyes darkening toward gold with lust at the effect of the simple little nip.
"I…" Hermione's words died on her lips when his thumb caressed her cheek softly, brushing over her sensitive skin and setting her nerve-endings on fire. Goddess, she was in trouble. His nostrils flared, breathing in more of her scent – more of her attraction and the telling dampness at the pulsing apex of her thighs. She was relatively certain that her face may stay red for the rest of her life.
"Where did you come from, gealai?" Remus murmured, stepping closer to her until he was inside her personal space. It was almost as though he couldn't help it and Hermione breathed in his delicious scent once more. She'd always loved the way he smelled. To be standing before him, so close she could feel the heat radiating from him against her stiffening nipples, and to be able to feel that warmth at all, made her want to cry with joy.
Gods, the nightmares she had of him lying there dead on the floor, his body cold, his scent fading, and his smile gone forever had kept her up half the night. Yet here he stood. Younger. Handsomer. Utterly alive and devastating in his allure. Hermione wanted to fling her arms around him and burrow into his chest while he held her. She wanted to climb him and snog him breathless. She wanted to apparate them both somewhere private and have her way with him.
Most of all she wanted to trace his facial features and the planes of his chest. She wanted to learn every line of his body; to sear them into her memory and hold them in her heart forever.
Her heart was racing inside her chest and her lips were dry; her palms grew sweaty with excitement and she was relatively certain she was panting. His eyes, threaded with bright gold amid the green now, were fixed hungrily on her lips, his fingers still lightly touching them. Hermione had to fight the urge to draw his fingers into her mouth and to lick each fingertip hungrily.
Just as he looked like he might lean in, closing the distance to replace his fingertips with his lips against hers, a sound came from behind her.
"Oi, Moony! Didn't know you were going to be here today, mate." Sirius Black's voice might be the most unwelcome one she'd ever heard. Hermione contemplated hexing him when Remus jerked back from her suddenly, his whole body tensing and his eyes flashing fully gold and then returning to their human shade of green as he stepped back.
The loss of his heat and his touch almost made her stagger and Hermione shivered with cold.
"Sirius?" Remus asked, looking over the top of Hermione's head at the man who'd obviously caught up and spotted that she'd been about to snog his best friend in the middle of the street. As a person of interest to the MLE, she could hardly be allowed to do so. Hermione thought again about hexing Sirius, not even needing to see his face to know he'd interrupted the intimate moment on purpose.
It left her reeling and the pavement beneath her feet seemed to sway and shift precariously as she tried to regain her equilibrium. She felt like she needed new knickers, a shot of firewhiskey, and maybe a good half-hour spent indulging her fantasies somewhere private just too cool off.
Scrubbing both of her clammy palms against the front of her jeans, Hermione looked at her feet. Idly she noticed that Remus's shoes look like they'd been polished within an inch of their life. The idea amused her for some reason and a small giggle escaped her mouth.
She needed to get away. She was in no state of mind to deal with Sirius and she didn't doubt he was going to use her encounter with Remus to wheedle an introduction out of her to pass on to Kingsley. The idea didn't sit well, even if Remus would share her identity with him when she was gone. She was much too annoyed with Sirius right then to be introduced and much too lightheaded with desire for Remus to think clearly.
Side-stepping around the apparently dazed werewolf who was still watching Sirius approach, Hermione almost got past him before his hand shot out and caught her wrist. She glanced at the grip he had on her in surprise. Remus had always been very controlled in his actions whenever he had to touch someone. Indeed, he avoided doing so unless absolutely necessary. To feel his fingertips caressing the inside of her wrist like that made her breathless and giddy all over again.
"Don't go," he said softly.
Hermione gave him a small smile, knowing she needed to leave before she could do something stupid.
"It was… thrilling… to meet you," Hermione whispered in return, quivering a little even as she pulled her wrist free of his gentle grip. She gave him a long, searching look, her smile still in place as she drank in the sight of him. "I've got to go. But maybe we'll meet again one day."
With that, she slipped away into the crowd.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
She missed the morning interviews at the apothecary. Indeed, she spent an inordinate amount of time inside the bookshop, limply holding a book in her lap as she tried to recover her equilibrium. Her feet had subconsciously carried her into Flourish and Blotts, where she'd randomly picked a book from the shelf before trailing to a little-used chair in the corner and staring at the pages without really seeing them.
Hermione felt like she'd been hexed with an Air-Head charm or perhaps like a wrackspurt had fluttered into her brain and made it go fuzzy. She'd met Remus and she couldn't stop thinking about him all over again. He was alive. It was... surreal. Hermine felt like she'd stepped into an alternate universe rather than the past. He was young and handsome, and he'd looked like he was going to kiss her. She couldn't stop thinking about the desire in his gaze when she'd nipped his fingers. She needed to think. She hadn't come back this far with the intention of seducing him as a means of protecting him from the future that was coming. Had she?
"Excuse me, Miss?"
Hermione blinked, noticing someone's shoes in her peripheral vision.
"Yes?" she asked, lifting her head. The owner of the shop was eyeing her warily.
"I'm trying to close up for lunch," the man said. "I need you to leave if you're not going to buy anything."
Hermione blinked.
"Close?" she asked, he brow furrowing. "But surely, you'd do your best business over the lunch hour, wouldn't you, sir?"
The man looked uncomfortable.
"Aye, that's true. But I've an appointment to meet and it's unavoidable since my shop-girl went and got herself knocked up, so I've got to close."
"I could run the shop for you while you're gone," Hermione offered immediately.
"You?" he asked, lifting one eyebrow sceptically.
"Yes. Oh, I should introduce myself," Hermione blushed, leaping to her feet and startling the elderly shop owner. She straightened her jacket and offered him her hand to shake. "My name is Hermione Granger. I'm looking for a position and I'd love to be considered as a shop assistant to you, Mr Blott."
"You know who I am?" he asked.
"Of course, I do," Hermione said, shaking his hand excitedly when he took hers. "You're the owner, else you wouldn't be talking about staffing and wouldn't be asking me to leave so you can lock up over your busiest hour of the day."
He eyed her like she might be a little bit mad.
"Now, I want you to know, I do have experience working in a bookshop. I used to have a steady summer job in a shop in muggle London, but the place was sold on when the owner died and so I'm in the market for a new position."
"You seem awfully perky given that you've been sitting here for two hours staring at nothing," he commented.
Hermione blushed.
"Right. Yes. That. Sorry. I had a little bit of an encounter this morning with someone and it rattled me a little more than I'd have liked. Nothing unpleasant, mind. Just a surprise. I'd believed this friend to be dead after losing contact and so seeing him again was a shock. I didn't mean to monopolize your couches here and I am intending to buy this book."
The man seemed almost as amused as Remus had been when Hermione realised she was rambling again. She began to wonder if the Time Travel had scrambled her brains.
"You've worked in a bookshop?"
"I have. Not a magical one, but I'm a witch, obviously, so I've been reading magical books all my life and know how to handle them. If you don't mind my asking, are you interested in hiring anyone, or am I wasting my time?"
She could tell by the look on his face that he was interested in hiring someone, but that he didn't trust her to leave her in the shop right then.
"I have been considering hiring a replacement for Mafalda," he mused. "How much responsibility can you handle, Hermione Granger?"
"As much as you need to me handle, sir," Hermione shrugged. "Before my last job ended, I was running things from a managerial level, handling rosters, hiring and firing, in charge of order shipments and wages. I know what I'm doing."
He still looked on the fence about it and Hermione smiled encouragingly.
"I know it's hard to consider hiring a replacement soon after losing a valued employee, Mr Blott. And I know the notion of hiring someone on the spot and leaving for your appointment must be daunting. If you'd like to give me a probationary trial, I'd be happy to submit to Anti-Theft charms while you attend your appointment. If it helps keep the business open, I don't mind."
The man looked a little more secure at the idea.
"Alright then," he nodded. "A trial. We'll see how you handle things while I'm out, under charm, and if you do well, I'll give you the job."
"Excellent. You won't regret it, sir. I promise." Hermione smiled.
He pulled his wand and rapped her over the head with it, charming her person against leaving the shop with anything from within that she hadn't paid for. Hermione shivered at the feel of the magic washing over her.
"Right, come over and I'll show you how to ring everything up before I go," he nodded.
Hermione smiled as he showed her the cash register and the manual system for recording each item sold within the shop. She was already thinking of how to streamline the process by the time he left and when her first wave of customers for the lunch rush arrived, she had a quill charmed to take down the title, author and serial number along with the name of the buyer, the date of the sale, and the price they paid. Like a Quick-Quotes Quill, it dashed out everything vital without her needing to pay attention to it, allowing her more time to focus on making a sale.
Indeed, she talked one wizard into buying the entire collection of Wanda Wilkes, The Wandering Witch novels rather than just one, assuring him that he wouldn't be able to put the series down until it was complete. Another witch was convinced to try three different books to best conquer an unruly household mess rather than skimping on one to see if it would work. Hermione made sure to direct her to the best ones after ascertaining the nature of the problem. Indeed, she was having so much fun making her sales that she almost didn't spot Sirius loitering in the back of the shop, still observing her.
Almost.
A smirk flirted with her lips as she flicked her wand toward a section of tomes on self-defence and basic Auror training guides. She was in the process of helping a mildly distraught young mother with three kids under seven swinging from her and another on the way, to find a selection of books on raising magical children and how to keep them all well-fed when she heard Sirius begin to laugh. She'd levitated a number of books in his direction, causing them to bump into him gently, demanding to be read. It had been a risk. If he'd been offended by the suggestion, he might've had cause to press charges for assaulting an MLE officer, but Hermione had relied on her knowledge of Sirius as a reckless prankster who found humour in most things.
When she sent the woman and her sticky children on their way - each child clutching a new book of their own in addition to the ones the witch had bought on raising her family, Hermione approached Sirius. She was in a much better mood and suspected that he wasn't going to go away until she spoke with him.
"Was there a particular book I can help you with today, officer?" Hermione asked, righting a stack of books that had been toppled by the rowdy children she'd just hustled out of the shop as she approached.
"You know I'm with the MLE?" Sirius asked, flicking his wand to send the books hovering around him back to their shelves.
"You've been tailing me for hours as I conduct my business in Diagon Alley, so I certainly hope you're an Auror and not a stalker," she shrugged.
"And if I am a stalker?" he raised one eyebrow, smirking wickedly.
"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave until you are more appropriately garbed for the job."
Sirius laughed. "In my experience, stalkers wear short dresses and platform shoes," he replied.
Hermione grinned.
"Exactly, you're hardly dressed for the job, Auror…?" she trailed off, waiting for him to supply his name.
"Don't pretend you don't know who I am, witch," he warned, turning a take-away coffee mug and revealing the scrawl of the waitress she'd asked to pass her message.
"Nonetheless, I believe it's important that you introduce yourself for the sake of identifying as a man of the law rather than a plucky lout looking to follow me home and ruffle my feathers. I'd hate to later get off on a technicality for assaulting you should you fail to announce your position before manhandling me if I prove to be of suspicious character."
"Know a bit about the law, do you? Been in trouble before?"
Hermione grinned at the way he fished for details.
"Might've been. You'll never know if you don't introduce yourself, Sirius."
"It seems you know me, though I don't remember seeing you around before."
"No, you wouldn't, would you?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him before offering him her hand to shake. "I'm Hermione Granger."
Sirius eyed her hand for a moment before he shook it.
"Sirius Black, MLE."
Hermione realised too late that she'd offered him the arm that Bellatrix had carved the word 'Mudblood'. Something he noticed and drew attention to by refusing to release her hand and reaching for her with his free hand as well.
"Who did this to you?" he demanded in a low voice, gripping her elbow.
"No one you can arrest for doing so," Hermione sighed. "I appreciate your concern, but as you can see, they're hardly fresh. There's nothing you can do to undo the event, so I'd appreciate it if you released me, Sirius."
"This is a hate-crime," Sirius argued. "If you file a report, I can prosecute whoever did it to you."
Hermione smiled sadly as she looked into his fierce grey eyes, suddenly filled with concern and outrage on her behalf rather than the suspicion he'd been levelling at her since he'd spotted her hurrying to the bank. The idea that the man she'd known, dead so long to her until this moment, could be as reckless and as compassionate at twenty and he'd been at thirty-six made her heart ache.
"Rest assured that the person who did this to me will get what's coming to them in due course," Hermione said.
"Taking the law into your own hands isn't the answer, treasure," Sirius warned, and Hermione's heart broke a little at the familiar endearment upon his tongue. During the time she'd spent sharing living space with him at Grimmauld Place, he'd always called her 'Treasure'. Ginny had been called 'Pet' and Tonks caught the occasional 'love' but he'd always called Hermione 'Treasure'.
"I would never dream of it," Hermione replied, smiling sweetly as she lied through her teeth. "I don't want to press charges, officer. I know that with a face like that, you're not used to being told no, but I must insist. Trust me, the comeuppance for the person who did this to me will be well and truly justified and I shan't lift a finger."
Sirius narrowed his eyes, obviously not believing her.
"At least tell me who did it?" he tried to bargain, fixing her one of his winning smiles that she did not doubt had talked a good many witches out of their knickers.
"I can't do that, Sirius. Please, leave it be. Now, was there a reason you were following me – poorly, I might add. I made you as a tail the minute you started following me on my way to the bank."
"You gave me the slip on purpose," he accused, releasing her when she pulled her hand free of his grip. Hermione tugged her sleeve down to hide the scar, making a mental note to put a glamour over it in future.
"I stopped for ice-cream," Hermione corrected, grinning at him.
"At nine in the morning? Only people who're bonkers stop for ice-cream before breakfast."
"I like to challenge social-norms," Hermione shrugged. "Haven't you ever heard the saying that life is short, so eat dessert first?"
"You're a quirky one, aren't you Granger?" he lifted one eyebrow at her.
"I prefer 'unique'," Hermione smiled.
"What were you doing with Moony that you had to run away so quickly?" Sirius asked, frowning at her.
"Moony?" she feigned ignorance.
"Remus. The lad you were chatting to in the street after colliding with him," Sirius said. "How is it you know who I am and not who Moony is? Were you at Hogwarts with us? You look our age."
"I…" Hermione hesitated, thinking on her feet and wondering how much she ought to disclose. She would have to lie. "I was a year ahead of you, I think."
She bit her lip, hoping he wouldn't ask who she was, what house she'd been in and why he didn't recall her.
"Gryffindor?" he asked. "I don't remember seeing you in the Tower."
"I honestly spent most of my time holed up in the library. I was very dedicated to my studies," Hermione said, not even lying about that. "You wouldn't have seen me or paid me any mind. No one else did."
"Wallflower, eh?" he asked. "I reckon I'd have remembered seeing the likes of you in my Common Room…"
"You did drunkenly try to hit on me after a Quidditch match, once," Hermione offered, lying again.
"Did you take me up on it?" he frowned.
"How loose are you that you don't even know that?" Hermione began to laugh in spite of herself, especially when he had the decency to look mildly bashful for a moment. "No, I wasn't interested in being a notch on your bedpost – and don't give me that look, I heard all about the actual notches you made in your bedpost during your years at Hogwarts, Sirius Black. You and your little friends were famous throughout the school."
"If you were in the library so much, you probably recognised Moony. He was always holed up in there whenever he wasn't with us."
"Oh, I recall Remus just fine," Hermione smirked, letting appreciation for fine man-flesh slip into her tone. "Though he didn't remember me. I didn't exactly socialise. Strict parents very interested in ensuring I excelled in the muggle and magical world, you know?"
"That right? Got a thing for Moony, do you?" Sirius smirked. "Reckon he was pretty beguiled after knocking into you back there, actually. So, what's the deal, you work here?"
He looked around the room.
"I just began, on a probationary basis while Mr Blott attends an appointment. He's going to consider hiring me when he gets back based on how well I look after the shop while he's out. Which, incidentally, brings me back to my original reason for approaching. Now that you've ascertained that I'm not a shady character likely to start a duel in the Alley, can you clear off? You might be great eye-candy to lure the ladies in here, so I can sell things to them in their distraction, but I don't want Mr Blott refusing to hire me because I have the MLE doing a bad job of tailing me."
"A bad job? I followed you all the way up the alley and back."
"And I knew you were there the entire time. You're too pretty not to draw attention and you were too obvious as you skulked after me. You walked right into a cabbage cart. If I had been planning anything shady, I'd have spotted you and refrained from committing any kind of crime immediately."
"You do look like a criminal, in my defence," he said, his cheeks turning pink at her summation and the mention of his cabbage cart catastrophe.
"No, I look tired and like I haven't had a decent meal in a while," Hermione corrected him.
"You were acting shifty on your way to the bank."
"I had something valuable in my possession that needed to be put in my vault and I didn't want anyone to mug me," Hermione argued.
"What kind of valuable?"
"Is this becoming an interrogation?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"Well… no, but answer the question."
"My mother's jewels, if you must know. She and my father were both killed in a car-accident recently and they bequeathed everything to me, their only daughter. I was worried someone might mug me before I could lock them safely in my vault."
"Why wouldn't you just take them home with you?" he frowned.
"Well, I had to sell the house and… well, everything, really," Hermione frowned, feigning pain over non-existent scenarios. "They had opened a dental practice not long ago and they were still in a good deal of debt as a result. With them both dead, I was left in a tight spot on that front. So, I don't actually have a home to keep my valuables in, right now."
"You're orphaned and homeless?" he asked, looking stricken. "Bloody hell, treasure. No wonder you look like you've been through hell. Where are you looking to live?"
"I don't know," Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "There were a few places for let being advertised in the Daily Prophet this morning. I'll have a look at them and see if anything takes my fancy, I suppose."
"Let me see," Sirius said, frowning at her all the more as he crossed the shop to the counter where she'd set down her newspaper. She hadn't been game enough to set down her beaded bag, but she'd managed to stuff it into her pocket so she wouldn't be eyed strangely for not relaxing in her new position.
"You're really not helping my cause to get this job, Black," Hermione frowned at him when he picked up the paper.
"Hush, witch. You look like you need some peace and quiet and like you don't have a clue which neighbourhoods to avoid. You serve your customers and let me handle the flat hunting, yeah?"
"This seems to be going above and beyond the line of duty, Sirius. Don't you have crime to be stopping?"
"Nah, I'm still in training," he told her, waving her away as he picked up a quill at the desk and began scratching out some of the ones Hermione had circled.
She couldn't think of any way to get rid of him without being rude, and so Hermione simply turned her attention to helping a jumpy seeming chap looking for information on werewolves.
