A/N: Here's the next chapter for Run Away Princess:)
Disclaimer: I still own nothing. –sighs-
Chapter 13: Drawings and Dragons
---
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
"Hey, it's Harry, I'm busy right now so leave a message and I'll call you later. Bye." Beep.
"Hi—uh, Harry. It's me... again." Hermione said, exasperatedly. "I just want know how you're doing, Ginny and Draco are leaving today and I can see that you've been having a really busy week." Since you haven't been returning my calls, she thought bitterly. "But—take it easy, okay? Okay, uhm, that's all. Bye." She said into her phone and then snapped it shut. For a moment she expected to hear him. She sighed then returned to bed, slipping under the covers. She looked at the clock that read one o'clock in the morning; she set the alarm to seven o'clock, and put the phone beside her in case he returned her call.
It's been a week after Harry left, and since then, she had felt really ashamed of doing what she did. Saying that she 'will miss him' and even if it were true, she must've made a complete fool of herself. Harry hasn't called since then and she felt the need to apologize for hugging him and probably embarrassing him in front of all his friends in the car, or maybe he really didn't want to call. She sighed again, nibbling on her bottom lip then picked up the phone again.
Dialing Harry's number, she waited for him to pick up. With every ring she felt her breathing escalate.
"Hey, it's Harry, I'm busy right now so leave a message and I'll call you later. Bye." Beep.
Yet again, his voice mail picked up. She hung up without saying anything and then sighed.
"Stop sighing," Ginny's grumpy voice came, she groaned then lifter her head from her pillow. Grabbing it and pressed it over her head in frustration. "And stop calling Harry. It's irritating."
"I don't see why you had to sleep here in the first place, anyway." Hermione retorted, folding her arms over her chest.
Ginny looked up from her side of the bed, looking slightly offended. "I've had a rough day. And when I have rough days, Draco allows me to sleep in another room and cool it off."
She still didn't look convinced and searched her head for other meanings of 'rough day' and then she came across another meaning. She hid her disgust. "Define 'rough day'." She ordered.
"Rough day, noun." Ginny began, Hermione cracked a smile. "Means feeling like shit all day. Happy?"
Hermione was relieved to hear that, and not what she thought she would. "Then, I've had a rough day, too. You don't mind if I use the spare room, right?" Hermione asked, grabbing her phone—just in case he called—a pillow, and getting up. Ginny shook her head, put her hand over her forehead dramatically, looked towards the ceiling and mouthed a 'thank goodness' in a joking manner.
Walking through the empty corridors, she saw the door to Harry's room half-open. She peeked inside, and saw James staring at pictures of what looked like Harry's family. She quietly leaned on the door frame.
"You can come in, if you want." James said, not removing his gaze from Harry's picture with his mom. Hermione carefully stepped closer, and went up beside him.
"She's really pretty, his mom." Hermione said, looking at her.
"Lily was a very pretty woman." James corrected, sighing.
"I'm very sorry to hear that..." She said, quite sad for him, and started tracing her fingers over Harry's framed pictures. There was one when he was accepting an award, and another when he was at the beach with Cho. Another one was where he was at ay camping trip, he wore a dark green vest over a black shirt and a matching hat. Beside him was Draco, whose face was buried inside a steel bucket. Harry's hands were lifted, as if saying 'stop'. She guessed that the person who took the picture was Ginny, and that the picture was a poor attempt of trying to sneak up on them.
Hermione felt her phone vibrating within her pocket. She looked up at James, ashamed. "Sorry," She mumbled. "I have to take this certain call..." Rushing out the door, she pressed the 'accept' button and pressed it to her ear. She had barely noticed him leave and head towards the spare room he was staying in.
"Hi." Harry's voice came from the receiver, it was hoarse and for a moment she couldn't even recognize him. Before she could speak, he cut her off. "Listen, Casey please tell Ginny and Draco that it was a pleasure to have them over and that they could return any time they want. And tell my dad that Penelope is looking for him. And that's it for now. I've had a long day and I'll keep in touch soon."
"Ha—"
And she was cut off and his voice sounded exactly like his voicemail, it was plain and seemed unenthusiastic to be talking to her. She slouched, and drifted back to Harry's now empty bedroom, where she planned to stay for the night.
---
She couldn't hold back her tears, her face scrunched up as a small sob escaped her lips. Hermione, wearing layers and layers of clothing hugged Ginny tightly, and then wiped the tears away. She sneezed again, and Draco and Ginny shot her sympathetic looks.
"You just had to sleep in Harry's bed—God knows how many germs he was carrying!" Ginny scolded, and handed her another piece of tissue.
"No—" She sneezed again, "I didn't know that there was a lot of dust, and I'm allergic—" She sneezed again, for what seemed like the millionth time this morning, "to it."
Draco nodded, and then he smiled sheepishly, "Come on and visit us next month, we could go to my house in Chicago."
"How many houses have you got, anyway?" Hermione asked, and he smirked at her. The corners of his lips curving upward into a smile, but he didn't answer instead he gave her one last hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek, they burst out laughing. Ginny laughed, and did the same.
"Bye, luv. Keep in touch!" Ginny waved, and closed the door behind them. Near the distance, she could hear Tonks and Remus go to the kitchen, while James stayed behind.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter." She greeted, walking past him. He couldn't get rid of the unsettling resemblance she and Hermione had.
"Excuse me, Ms. Barrett." James called, she turned around gracefully, a worried look on her face.
"Please be honest with me, I won't be angry." His tone was serious, and she tilted her head.
"Honest with what?"
"Are you Hermione Granger?" His question was short and straight to the point. She felt blood pump to her ears, and her heart beat wildly.
She smiled at him, trying not to make her distress and nervousness evident in her voice. "Of course not, isn't she at Europe now?"
James nodded curtly, waved shortly, and followed after Remus and Tonks. Hermione took in sharp breaths of air, and ventured to her room to calm herself down.
---
"Hey, it's Harry, I'm busy right now so leave a message and I'll call you later. Bye." Beep.
"It's me again. Remus told me to tell you that your dad told him to tell you that he left for Rome, I don't know why he asked Remus to tell me to tell you even if he's your dad but I did it anyway. Tonks' stomach is getting bigger by the day. Take care of yourself. No more broken arms, alright?" Hermione said. It's been another long week, and still no calls from Harry.
She had become so sick of wondering what he was doing... or how is he... if his day played out well, that she only called him every other day, her sentences short and straight to the point. She had expected this, after all. She despised doing nothing and being cooped up at home all day and being forced to stay home. She despised it as much as she despised the way Harry kept saying 'I'll call you later' and how he never does.
Harry, on the other hand, was lying sprawled across cold cement, blood was trickling from his chest onto the floor, forming a pool of blood. He could hear the crackling of something burning in the distance. He was sweating heavily, and his emerald green eyes focused on the blinding light in front of him. He winced out in pain, and breathed ragged breaths. He could no longer feel the pain as darkness crept up at him and with one last breath, he closed his eyes and let go.
"Cut!" Shouted Dean, who, to Harry, sounded a bit disappointed. Harry then groaned inwardly, cursing under his breath and he delicately brushed some gray powder off his torn and dirty clothes. He was careful to not smear blood all over the props—fake stones, carpets, his attire... He got up, and then shot a look at Dean.
"What did I do this time?" He asked, slightly irritated, his head throbbing from the lack of sleep.
"You're supposed to call for Fleur! Didn't you go over your lines?" Dean scolded, and then rolled his eyes. Harry nodded and then lied back down for the twenty-fourth time today.
The camera focused on him, and he tried his best to seem out of breath, even holding his own to make it seem believable. And he tried to imagine great pain, like a stabbing kind. "B—Brooke..." He said weakly, and then he relaxed, pretending to be dead, frail and lifeless. He heard her footsteps, and more. He knew what was going to happen next. A crowd had formed a circle around his seemingly lifeless body. And then he heard gasps and cries. "No!" Someone shrieked—and he knew who that person was. "No!" She cried.
And then he felt Fleur kiss him with all the passion she could muster, her slender fingers cupped around his face. A veil of blond shielding them, he then felt something wet on his face. Tears. It felt like nothing—like something he had grown used to, it was one of those meaningless kisses that they had become so familiar with.
"Cut!" Dean's voice boomed again, and Harry sat up.
"Good enough?" He asked, breathing heavily.
"It is." He said happily, and the staff clapped their hands. They all seemed fairly satisfied that they could finally move to a next scene. Harry threw his head back, Fleur laughed happily, lying beside him. He squeezed her hand in gratitude. Seamus threw a towel at Harry, and it was scolding hot, and it fell on his face. Something white and fluffy obscured his vision. "Oy!" Harry called, chuckling. He was feeling happy after a day of hard work.
"That was a good shot." He told her, grateful. Fleur looked at him, and raised her eyebrows in disbelief. She was an unbelievably good actor and it always struck Harry on how much passion she put into it. She looked uncertain. "Hey—if you weren't spectacular during that last shot, we'd be stuck doing that scene all day."
"I don't mind." She giggled, and a low chuckle escaped his lips to hide his discomfort, but he had always felt something for Fleur, they had become unbelievably close over the years. He used to have feelings for her. But then he couldn't avoid the slight awkwardness between them. Her hand squeezed his this time, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You were great, too."
"Yeah, considering that I screwed up at least twenty-four times today."
"You suck that much?" Viktor asked, laughing. He sat beside them. Harry prompted himself on his arms.
"Sod off, Krum. Or else I'll throw you out that blasted window this time."
"I'd like to see you try, Potter." He taunted.
"Wanna bet?" At this, Harry was already standing. Viktor stood there, his stare already gave the answer.
Harry smiled devilishly. "You asked for it." And when he was about to charge, Fleur stepped in between them.
"Boys—stop!" She ordered, laughing softly. "I don't want any funny business happening here—Oh Viktor, listen to me! I don't see why you two have been trying to throw each other out of windows every chance you two get!"
"He threw me first," Harry said, a smile tugging at his lips. "I was just...returning the favor."
"Well—stop it." Fleur said, slightly irritated now. "I don't want you two beating the living daylights out of each other!"
"Shooting will continue later, four a.m. Be there!" Dean shouted from the snack bar before Harry could react. Seeing as it was already ten o'clock in the evening, Harry got up and went to the dressing room to change. He saw his phone nestled inside his messenger bag, thinking that he hadn't checked it in a while, he started at it, he had twelve messages and three new voicemails.
Not even bothering to check what those were, he threw his phone back into his bag. He picked up a pair of jeans and a white long sleeved shirt and started undressing. Wiping the fake blood from his chest with a damp towel, he washed his face and then changed clothes. It was now 10:30 and he dug in his bag for his phone. He pressed it to his ear and then listened to the voicemails. One of which was dated three days ago.
"Hey, Harry. It's me, Casey. Your dad left already. And Ginny and Draco were asking for you. That's all. Just thought you should know. Honestly though—it's not like they could contact you themselves, is there something going on that I don't know about? It would be nice to hear from you, and I hope that your work is doing okay."
He waited for the next message which was sent today.
"It's me again. Remus told me to tell you that your dad told him to tell you that he left for Rome, I don't know why he asked Remus to tell me to tell you even if he's your dad but I did it anyway." He heard her laugh nervously.He couldn't help but crack a smile, too. "Tonks' stomach is getting bigger by the day. Take care of yourself. No more broken arms, alright?" Harry chuckled, while putting his things inside his bag. He sneaked his extra shirts inside, his pair of glasses in the side compartment. He picked up his wallet and placed it inside his pocket. There was another voicemail, which was also sent today.
"Oi, Harry. It's Draco, I just called to let you know that Casey's going to my house in Chicago to spend Christmas with us. If you're not busy, get your ass out of that thing you call work and join us. Remus and Tonks won't go this time, though. Don't you want to marvel at how rich I am, Potter? Because you'd be a real—Ow!" He heard Ginny hiss something in the background, also a loud thud, and from afar, Harry heard Draco speak: "I was only joking, honey. Yes, yes, I know. But—" and then the call ended.
"Jackass." Harry mumbled, still smiling. He formulated plans on how he would bend his schedule for time in Chicago with his friends. He smiled at the sheer thought of a vacation.
But he thought too soon. The other messages were from producers and agents. Informing him that they booked dates for interviews, promos and photo shoots. Also guest appearances for talk shows—he groaned inwardly at how busy his schedule would be, now that winter's about to come. He would be working non-stop for a week. He might not even spend the holidays with Draco, Ginny and Casey. He was actually looking forward to seeing her.
---
"You really didn't have to make me hot chocolate, Remus." Hermione said, as she saw Remus pouring each of them a cup. She wrapped her bathrobe around her, and nodded in appreciation when he handed the mug to her.
"I wanted to, anyway. Dora is still asleep." He replied, stirring his cup with a spoon.
"Asleep? But it's already noon." She commented, glancing at the direction their room was. Remus turned his head too, as if Tonks would emerge from the hallway any second.
He chuckled slightly. "She was too bothered about the baby kicking last night. She couldn't even sleep."
"But still—must be pretty exciting, having a baby." She said, sipping on her drink. She stared out the window and into the garden and wrapped her arms around herself, sighing. "I mean, sometimes it just makes me wonder if I'd ever find the right person, though."
Remus chuckled, "We all have to come across that point sometime in our lives. Some people might not even find the right person. But you mustn't lose hope. Dora and I are very lucky to have each other. I don't know how I could go on without her."
"And she wouldn't know how to go on if you left too, you know." She reminded him.
"I hope she could forgive me if I do." He mumbled, sullen and pensive. His grim mood rubbed off her, and soon she found herself staring blankly into space. Thinking.
"So, Casey, where will you be spending your holidays?" Remus piped in, snapping her out of her trance. She smiled at him.
"I'm headed for Chicago at around December. I'll be staying with Draco and Ginny, though." She frowned, she surprised herself by sounding disappointed.
"I thought that you enjoy their company." He said, observing her. Hermione looked at him, alarmed.
"Of course I do!" She told him, feeling embarrassed. "I do enjoy their company, really, I do. But then, I don't know. I'm too much of a hassle to stay with them. I'm sure they would want to spend their first Christmas engaged privately. I feel like an intrusion." She sighed, bringing the mug to her lips for another sip. She took one big gulp, and she suddenly felt warm again. "It would be too late to say no. Maybe I should stay at a motel close by."
Remus nodded, and encouraged her to go on.
"But I haven't had a decent job since September. I was supposed to be working for Harry as his intern but then he made me stay. I think I'll have to go job hunting again."
"Why did he make you stay?" He asked.
"Well, you won't like the sound of it, but my family has issues, and well—I'm a pretty stubborn person." She gulped, "But then, I left for America not too long ago. They're just worried about me." She couldn't continue any longer.
"Ah, persistent parents, eh? Harry's parents are persistent as well. James and Lily were always worried about him. He used to be bullied by his cousins and schoolmates. But he was always close to Sirius—"
"The dog?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.
"No, Sirius the dog was named after my friend—Harry's godfather. He passed away when Harry was eleven."
Once again, Hermione felt another blow to her stomach in grief. First his mother, and now Sirius? How much had Harry endured in his life? Even his eyes could tell a story, oh how she missed staring into those eyes.
"I'm sorry..." She choked, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation.
"Don't be."
---
"Harry, we're about to leave. The car's there." Seamus said, knocking on his door. The four actors renting a flat right now (namely Fleur Delacour, Seamus Finnigan, and Viktor Krum). They decided that it would be convenient to rent a humongous furnished flat near the studio, like having only one ride, and going out to parties at night. It was actually more expensive to stay in a hotel suite during the whole period of shooting.
"Just give me five more—What?! Wait—what time is it?" Harry said, sitting up.
"It's 3:45!" Seamus said, this time a bit louder.
"You've got to be kidding me," Harry whispered to himself, throwing off the covers and rushing towards his closet. He pulled a random shirt over his bare chest, and then put on a pair of khaki shorts that reached to the middle of his shins. He put on his socks hurriedly, not caring that they didn't match—they were both white, anyway—and then slipped on his shoes. Grabbing his brown messenger bag, and throwing two extra shirts and a pair of jeans, his cellphone, some cologne, his mp3 player and a six-page script, he zipped it up and slung it over his shoulder.
"I'm coming!" He called, running towards the dining table. Where Fleur was clearing out the dishes, she looked up at him and smiled sweetly.
"Everyone's outside." She informed, "Dean just told me that I wasn't included in the scene, so I'll be there at around six."
"Okay," He said, and grabbed a piece of toast from the table. "Thanks."
He said a quick goodbye and gave a quick kiss on the cheek. He ran out the door nearly tripping down the stairs, "Hey, guys, wait up!"
When he arrived outside the building, Seamus and Viktor were already boarding the van. He sent his co-workers nasty stares when he entered and took a seat next to the window.
"It would've been nice if you woke me at around three or two." He said, scowling.
"It would've been nice if you set the damn alarm." Seamus retorted, and in turn, Harry received a blow to his side while his two cast mates were laughing.
Harry stifled a yawn, and rested his chin on his right hand. "I'm going back to sleep."
In his dream, Harry saw Hermione walking down a deserted alley. Her hair was damp and dingy. Her clothes were wet with a mixture of water, sweat and bits of dried blood. She was hugging herself tightly, and was in the verge of tears. She looked scared, and out of no where, she started sprinting, heaving ragged breaths. Her feet were splashing on ankle deep puddles, and she made her way through a bunch of dumpsters. She winced when a shard of glass created a gash on her upper right arm.
Harry felt stuck to the ground, and he felt himself running towards her, but then he couldn't. He couldn't move and do anything as he saw her plunging into the darkness. His jaw was dropped, and he was screaming something, but there was nothing that came out. A deafening silence attacked him, and he found himself mumbling his name over and over again. As he saw her disappear completely, into the dark, unwelcoming void in front of him, he was sucked back into reality.
The car seat shook as he jolted awake, and then he was in an unfamiliar place. "Where am I?" He asked, he felt adrenaline pumping through his veins; his forehead was starting to moisten with his sweat. Viktor turned around to look at him, Seamus surveyed his appearance.
"Hey, Harry, you alright? You look like shit." Seamus concluded, looking at him. Viktor sniggered.
"I—er, thanks, Seamus." He said, realizing that he was only in the van, he squished his arm inside his bag and rummaged for his cellphone.
"Are we there yet?" Harry asked, burying his arm deeper into his bag, "I really need to make a phone call." It was already on it's eight ring and no one had answered yet. "Goddamnit, Casey. Answer the damn phone." He mumbled under his breath.
Hermione was sleeping soundly in Harry's bed again, finally getting rid of the dust. Although she knew that he would hate her for barging in his room and 'contaminating' his bed with the so-called 'cooties'. She could just imagine him being all childish and huffing and giving her the puppy-face he would always make when he wanted something from her. Giggling, she rolled over in bed and hugged the pillow tight and drifted off to sleep.
The sound of her phone ringing at 4 in the morning went unnoticed—she was too indulged in her dream that involved books, marshmallows and her pet at home, Crookshanks. But the constant vibrating annoyed her, so she stirred and reached for it blindly.
"Hmm?" She asked sleepily, her eyes were still closed, and she was still drifting in her dream, half-asleep.
"Casey? Are you okay? Where are you?" She heard him ask her. She mumbled something incoherent.
"Wake up." He sighed. She fluttered her eyes open sleepily, recognizing that voice.
"Harry?" She asked, yawning, her eyebrows furrowed in worry. She sat up on the bed and rubbed her eyes sleepily. Why on earth would he call this early?
"Where are you?" He repeated.
She looked around, in panic. "I'm uhm—at my room. Yeah, my room."
He heaved a sigh of relief, "Okay. That's good. Sorry to bother you so early. Bye"
A look of irritation formed on her face, it was probably evident in her voice as well. "Harry—wait!"
"Yes?"
"I—uh, don't hang up yet. I haven't spoken to you in weeks now. How's work going? Anything interesting? Where do you stay?"
The low chuckle that escaped Harry's lips reverberated in her ear. It sent chills down her spine. She had truly missed him. "Hectic. I'm sorry I haven't been in touch. Work's been tiring. I can't wait until all of this is over—I'd probably spend a whole week sleeping."
She giggled softly, it was nice to hear his voice again. Not that she hasn't heard it every other day—his voicemail was beginning to get... sickening, and annoying, and boring and robotic.
"So you're going to spend Christmas with us at Chicago?"
"Uhm..." He began, after a long silence, he finally continued and said with a sigh, "Sorry, I can't, I've got a few talk shows to do, interviews, and photo shoots during the holidays."
"But Harry..." She started, and searched her mind for a reason—a really, really good reason—on why he should spend Christmas with them. She found one that seemed reasonable, but she was sure that we would likely say he couldn't go, even if she told him that she missed him. But—this was Christmas, surely everyone would come home for Christmas. Surely everyone would be given a day off. And if someone isn't given a day off, surely the person would ask to for a day off, right? Right? Did he really want to spend time with them, or was this just some crappy excuse?
"Sorry, Casey, I've really got to go. Bye." The line went dead. Then something came to her. What if, he really wasn't who she thought he was? What if he didn't like spending time with his family and friends? What if he enjoyed show business more? All the evidence pointed to it. His rush to leave for the next plane to God knows where, his love for being alone in his room, not returning calls and messages, why he sounded so happy with his co-workers—of course she had watched the behind the scenes segment of his movie. What if he was just fooling around with her feelings for the second time around? What if? What if?
It was like a painful realization. Who was she to think that they were actually close friends? Who was she to think that he actually liked her? If he did, well, he would've dragged her with him to work as his assistant, or maybe call more, or maybe actually care that she was bored out of her wits, staying in a stuffy mansion doing nothing, won't he? What if the reason why he had her stay was not for her safety, but so that he could go a day without her annoying and persisting questions? Those possibilities stung as soon as they crossed her mind, but she had no doubt that they were true. In a subtle way, he had fired her, after all. She wanted to kick herself in the stomach for her unbelievable guts. What if he was avoiding her because he hated her persistence? Her mind was swirling in answerless questions, and with Harry constantly hanging up on her and avoiding her, she concluded they would never be answered.
"Bye." She whispered to no one, the phone still pressed to her ear. As if expecting his voice to pop back and say sorry, and that everything would be fine.
---
It was already November 1st, Ginny laced her fingers around Draco's hand, seeking comfort. She looked up at him worriedly as they stared boarding the plane. "I think we should go back. We could go some other time." She confessed. She held on to her purse tighter, and furrowed her eyebrows.
Draco stared at her, and bent down to give her a kiss on her temple, and hugged her close. "You promised." He reminded her.
She rolled her eyes. It was true, she had promised that there was no turning back, boarding the plane would be her last decision. So far she had packed and unpacked already ten times in the last 4 days. Although she was convinced that her parents would approve of her engagement with Draco, she was afraid that they would say that she was too young, or the wedding was rushed or whatever parents were supposed to say. She was scared out of her wits in going to spend two weeks at their house, she just couldn't shake off the uncertainty. She hugged his waist, and rested her head against his shoulder while they were walking towards their seat.
"I just don't know what'll happen. They were trying to get me home a few months ago..." She trailed off when she glanced up at him. His gray eyes staring at her.
"It will be fine, Gin. We'll do fine." He said, grinning lopsidedly, she nodded quietly. They entered the slightly vacant first class section, and then settled on down their own booth.
"I just don't see why we have to visit them." She complained. "They know that we're practically married anyway."
He set her on his lap, and hugged her fervently. "Well," He breathed, "We already wrapped the Christmas gifts, packed our formal clothes. It would be a shame to miss out on all their preparations for our advance Christmas celebration. Besides, wouldn't it be better if they knew that we were married?."
She took a shaky breath, when she felt her cheeks burn with the feel of his lips on her neck. "Of course! But—you're right. There's no turning back now. Now—put me down, Draco."
"Say it." He said, staring up at her. "Say it and then I'll put you down."
Ginny threw her head back, whining. "No." She said.
"Go on. Say it."
"You'rethesexiestmanalive." She whispered quickly, turning her head to see if anyone had heard her. He shook his head, chuckling.
"What was that?" He asked, his gray eyes twinkling in delight and mischief. One of his trademark smirks were plastered on his face immediately. Ginny sent an icy stare, and took a deep breath.
"You're the sexiest man alive." She mumbled, avoiding his gaze, she was turning pink already and her eyebrows were furrowed. He grinned widely.
"That's my girl!" He gave her a quick and simple kiss on the lips. And then he set her down on her seat. She turned bright red in embarrassment, and folded her arms across her chest, pouting. Draco smiled, she's always cute when she does that.
"Don't pout, dear." He comforted, and brushed a strand of her ginger hair away and tucked it behind her ear.
"I'm visiting my parents. Why shouldn't I?"
---
It was already November 1. Hermione decided that it would be the day she would look for a job. She had her resume ready, although it wasn't an impressive one, it would have to do. She settled down with the modest and simple job of working behind a snack bar at a movie house. She had already called and set a job interview. She was happy that they weren't tio strict on their requirements. So she wouldn't need birth certificates, just an ID, a resume, contact details and a tolerance with the smell of popcorn.
She thought that the manager was a dear, too. Her superior, Tess, was an enjoyable and lenient person. She was actually a year older than Hermione, had straight blond hair and prominent amber eyes. She had a better figure than Hermione. She was tall, she was thin, and she was even friendlier and more charming to the costumers.
At around eight o'clock, she went downstairs to cook breakfast. She thought that it was fair to cook breakfast since either Tonks, Ginny or Draco had done so since she arrived.
"Wotcher." Tonks greeted, entering the kitchen. Noticing that Hermione was already wearing a pair of brown shorts and a tan shirt, she said "Where are you going?"
"I was just thinking that I'd make breakfast and then leave for my job interview. I didn't mean to wake you."
Tonks waved her hand in the air, as if trying to get rid of a bug floating about. But Hermione realized that it was only a hand gesture. "Ah, no. Don't blame yourself. Ella did it."
"Ella?" Hermione asked, impressed. "Sounds like a heartbreaker."
Tonks smiled gleefully, and began to speak, with a bit of triumph in her voice. "Well of course she'll be. Takes after her mum."
They talked pointlessly about anything under the sun, Tonks was keen to not bring anything referring to Harry, though. She had noticed that Hermione had stopped sleeping in his room, stopped calling, and most importantly, stopped talking about him.
"I've got to go now. Please tell Remus that I was asking for him." Hermione said, as she settled the dishes in the sink. "I'll wash these when I get back."
"Oh—buy me cranberries!" Tonks told her as she started heading for the door.
"Cranberries?"
"Yeah! I've been craving cranberries all day." She explained. Hermione nodded, smiling.
"Okay. I'll drop by the market later."
---
It smelled like popcorn the moment Hermione reached the glass doors. She was again swirling in a void of answerless questions, she was even mentally slapping herself for choosing to work in a snack bar, not that she hated it. She just wondered on how she went from an heiress to this. Although she had accepted it already, it wasn't like there was anything she could do. But she had missed her life in England. She giggled softly at the possibility that her life be written down in a novel—it was that dramatic.
Okay, so she had exaggerated—working at the snack bar wasn't so bad. All she had to do was fill buckets with popcorn, laugh all she wanted with her co-workers, fill cups with soda, and voila, twenty-five dollars a week. That's not much, but it's something.
"Casey!" Tess called from behind, running and hugging her. "Oh my god, I am so happy to see you!"
"Er—thanks, Tess." Hermione muttered.
"Aw, your accent is so adorable!" She chirped.
"I didn't know I had an accent..." Hermione said, thinking out loud, Tess' smile was even bigger now.
"Now you know, then! Come on, let's get started." She said, dragging Hermione through the double doors and into a white corridor, she was chattering excitedly on how work was so fun and that she'll love her co-workers.
"I thought this was a job interview?" Hermione asked nervously, biting on her bottom lip.
"Oh, no, no. This is your first day! Didn't you receive the call? I left it on your brother's voicemail."
---
There was another voicemail on Harry's phone, which was sent to him early, at around 6 a.m. Harry pressed his phone to his ear.
"Hey, you know the drill." His voice said. He had changed it the other day.
"Hello Casey, it's me, Tess from the cinema.Yes—I'd like to inform you that you don't need to go to the interview today! You've already been accepted! Isn't that great? I hope to see you at work, alright? You're going to love working with us!"
At the end of the beep, Harry stared at his phone. Troubled.
---
"Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. No, no, no. That can't be right! I don't have a brother!" Hermione explained, "Who did you call, Tess?"
She looked pensive, and stopped on her tracks. Her finger tapping the wall in concentration. "I think his name was Henry. You provided the number, didn't you? Well, every time I called it was his voicemail."
Hermione stood there, like her blood had run cold. She knew that. She knew about who she was talking about.
"I—I don't know anyone named Henry. Sh-show me the number." She said shakily, balling her fists in irritation and nervousness.
"Oh—hold on," Tess said, digging her hands inside the pockets of her jeans. She took out a neatly folded piece of paper, "Here."
The numbers of Harry's cell phone were written neatly by Hermione's handwriting on a torn piece of paper. She analyzed the number, reading it over and over again in her head. How could she, in the right mind, accidentally give away the personal number of a multi-millionaire? She imagined herself getting into trouble, Harry had done his best to only let his friends and agents get the number, and sworn them to secrecy.
"Do you promise?" Harry asked. He and Hermione were inside his room—with the door locked. He cradled her hand in his, staring at her.
She started laughing, throwing her head back when he started chanting something that sounded oddly like 'I call upon the rainbow' "Do I really need to? I mean, it's just a number! You're acting as if the whole world depended on it!"
His jaw dropped, as if she had said the most disgusting thing in the world, as if she had started a war, as if she had cursed in front of an innocent three year old—well, in the way he was acting, he could actually pass for a 3 year old. She started laughing again. "Well—it's not just a number! Do you know how much I've tried to keep this number a secret? Do you know how hard it was to keep it away from websites and the like?"
"But, come on! You even have a ritual set up!" She laughed, gesturing towards the poorly drawn teddy bear in the middle of the circle they were standing on, they both put a lock of their own hair in between, Hermione had done so grudgingly. A flashlight was in the middle, since Harry didn't want to ask Tonks for candles or anything—he was too lazy. "I mean, you're like some paranoid voodoo guy! Do you do this with everyone?"
"No, cause the moment I locked the door to my room, Draco started running to the window, shouting for Ginny." He said, chuckling.
Hermione's jaw dropped, and then she started laughing again. She sat down on the floor, and couldn't stop laughing. She was clutching her stomach. Harry started laughing too. "Harry!" Was all she could make out, and then ended of on the floor. "But—but, why a teddy bear? Do you know how gay that looks?"
"I am not gay, besides, I thought you liked teddy bears! If it were up to me I would've drawn a dragon!" Harry argued, gesturing to the piles of crumpled paper scattered all over the floor by the corner of the room.
"Oh please, you draw dragons by making a squiggly line and two dots for the eyes!" She teased, he looked offended and she giggled more.
Harry pointed to the drawing of a dragon that Hermione had made only minutes before. It was drawn like how girls would've drawn it—it had cute eyes, a girlish smile, loose blonde locks, nice long eyelashes, a pink ribbon on top, lipstick, and was wearing a purple dress, it looked perfectly fine to her. "And you call that a dragon? Looks more like an ogre with scales, if you ask me!"
"Yeah, right—it's better than yours!" She retorted, now standing.
"At least I wasn't called The Buck Tooth Wonder during preschool." Harry attempted, remembering the time she told him, and started laughing, too.
"Hey, my teeth are perfectly fine now!" She shot back. Harry remained silent.
"Why are we even doing this?" She asked, still laughing.
"Shush!" Harry yelled, shaking from his stifled laughter, and took her hands into his again. "Let's concentrate. Close your eyes."
"No, Harry! I refuse to close my eyes!" She laughed, more tears coming to her eyes.
"Do you want my number or not?" He asked, he was serious now.
"I—I do, but, I think it's just silly—"
"So, do you promise to never reveal this to anyone?" His emerald green eyes were piercing her, like they had often pierced her.
"I—" She began, and then sighed in defeat. "I promise."
He smiled a toothy grin. "Okay, then." He was serious again, he put the piece of paper firmly on her palm. And gave her a quick hug. She hugged him back, knowing that Harry would leave in around a week. "Thanks. I trust you, and you know that."
He trusted me? Rubbish. She thought, complete and utter rubbish. And besides, he didn't leave in around a week, like he told me, he left two days after that. Friends trust each other. And she wasn't even sure if he considered her a friend, even if he didn't, she'd probably still be there for him. It took her all her might to control herself, to blink the tears away. If it was that important to him, no matter how shallow the matter was. Hermione shook her head, and look up at Tess, who was looking at her with her anticipating amber eyes. In one swift movement, she had torn the piece of paper into twos, and then fours, and then eights. Then stuffed it in her pocket.
"Oh, I don't know what came over me. The last few numbers were wrong. I'm terribly sorry, Tess." She mumbled quietly.
"It's not a problem," She said. And brought her through the double doors. There were two people engulfed in a game of battleship.
"Kirk, Annabelle, meet your new co-worker, Casey." Tess said.
The girl Hermione guessed as Annabelle who was dressed in all black, had arctic blue eyes, and was wearing a red apron that read "Premiere" which was the name of the movie house, rolled her eyes. "Don't call her co-worker. It's too professional." She said bitterly. "Now Kirk, don't be such an ass and move your damn ship."
Kirk, who had dirty blonde hair and sweet brown eyes looked up at Hermione. "Hey there. I'm—Hey, watch it, Anna!" He was now glaring at the girl who was staring back innocently while rubbing his shin.
Tess smiled at all of them, then brought Hermione to another room. She handed her a cap, a red apron exactly like the one Anna was wearing, and gave her a run through. So Kirk would cook the hotdogs and popcorn, Anna would be in charge of the drinks, and Hermione had to be the one to man the cashier and hand out the food to the costumers.
"Anna will help you out when you have any more questions." She concluded, Hermione gave her a grateful hug and then went back to the staff room, where Kirk and Anna were now engulfed in a game of monopoly.
The movie house would open in twenty minutes, and Hermione had nothing to do. So she plopped down on the sofa, and watched Kirk and Anna play, amused. She started formulating stories in her head out of boredom. She made up a story that Kirk had a crush on Anna, and she was too punk to admit that she liked him too.
She thought of stories in her head, about people. Like Draco was probably the first one to ask Ginny out, or maybe that Tonks did the first move on Remus. She predicted that Tess was a former pageant queen and was now trying to get Kirk to notice her. She laughed darkly at the thought of more unlikely stories in the head. And then her thoughts drifted from that to her former job. The tiring hours, the odd coincidence that she lived with his best friend, she would no longer be rushing, and crying tears of frustration. She'd be free to do whatever she wanted at work. All she had to do was stuff buckets with popcorn, hand candy bars to the customers and greet them politely, she was suddenly thankful that she didn't have an arrogant boss with jet-black hair, glasses and emerald green eyes to remind her of Harry. But still.
She missed working with him. She missed his presence, and even though she would never admit this to anyone—or to him, for that matter—she even missed his stupid dragon drawings.
---
A/N: I'd like to thank pstibbons for suggesting that I put in more information about Casey's job, and on why she had to stay. I hope you guys know now on why Harry had her stay, right:) I hope you liked the chapter. Please, please be patient with me, as I might not update soon.
Review... please:)