Do It So I Deserve It
Chapter 2:
Almost Human
The bar was empty for the most part. There were a couple people sat quietly at a few tables with their tea cups, and their newspapers. Hermione took a spot near the back, along a dirty window that looked out onto an alley.
The server came over. A delicate looking girl with coily hair. Hermione ordered tea and a turkey sandwich. She took a time era appropriate book from her bag, and set it down on the table to study. The point was, she thought she'd distract herself with some light reading. She did it intentionally. If she occupied herself, ideas would work themselves out in the background and present in an epiphany as she walked down the cobblestone streets back. She knew how her mind worked. Still, she didn't seem able to get into it. The words hung before her like blank ornaments she couldn't string together.
It was artless.
The server guided her order onto the table, and the sound of the plate hitting the table made Hermione jump. "There you go. Let me know if you need anything else."
Hermione twisted a loose strand of hair between her fingers, and asked the server, "How long have you worked here?" She didn't really know how else to start a conversation.
"About a year, or so. I like it. I get to talk to all sorts of people. You're the first American I've ever met, or at least that I'm aware that I've met." She blinked at Hermione from behind thick lenses.
Hermione asked, "Did you go to Hogwarts?"
"Yes. All that, and I'm doing this. I could have done this, before all that. But still, I'm glad I did it."
"Which house were you in?"
"Ravenclaw. That means I'm smart. You know, with your nose in that book like that, I'd bet that's where you'd have ended up. There's an American school, isn't there? What's it like?"
"Not so good, but I did miss a lot of it. Poor immune system." Weird lie, but it was the first one that came to mind.
"That's too bad. You know, muggles are all about disease prevention. It's because they can't just wave a wand after the fact. They don't have potions like we do. They have things like vaccines, and Vitamin C. That supports what they call the immune system, which is what fights diseases." The girl took the seat across from Hermione. "Of course that doesn't prevent broken bones or anything, but it is interesting. We just have to take less caution in general, as a culture, because things are so easy to fix, and we know that. I remember my muggle born friend at school couldn't believe some of the safety hazards, he called them. He was appalled at our recklessness. He was so funny. But it got me thinking–
"That's interesting."
"Seems like such a waste. Magic and science could be used together. I got that friend to buy me some muggle textbooks last year. It's really fascinating how they've figured out the human body because they don't have magic to work with. It made me think of the time I stole some Skele-gro to take back on summer vacation for a friend who'd broken her arm just before break. I wanted her to be able to play. I gave it to her, and it fixed it, but we had to pretend it was still broken when the grownups were looking. That was the deal. We could benefit so much. They would benefit so much, at least in the health sector, but the initial meeting would cause chaos. It would be quite brutal, I imagine. So maybe it's for the best."
"There would be a tradeoff for sure," Hermione offered.
"Cynthia." The girl extended her hand across the table.
"Hermione."
"Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
Cynthia sighed, "I miss school. I miss being able to talk like this. Here it's all about the weather, and quidditch. I don't really care about any of it, but I try to take what I can from it. All well, at least I never had to take an exam again."
"What do you think an exam on this topic would look like?"
"The regular's orders, when the shipments come in, what initials are on the bathroom wall. That sort of stuff."
"You'd have enough for a whole class."
"It would be the worst class ever."
"There's so much history everywhere here. It's incredible. I was in Borgin and Burkes."
"Gross."
"There's a young man that works there, do you know him?"
"Riddle? Yeah, I know him. "A year ahead of me. Kind of a jerk. Gave me detention once or twice. Teachers loved him though. A Lot of the girls did too. Too preppy for my tastes, Bit of a heartbreaker. I like it the other way around. Where they look mean, but are really the nicest."
"Definitely seemed like some freak that lives in some murder cabin in the woods, or something."
"I don't know about that. I think he rents one of Mr. Gonzales' properties. The lake house, or maybe the flat across from Olivander's. I'm not sure."
"How many properties does Mr. Gonzales have?"
"Six or seven. If you need somewhere he usually has something available."
"That's good to know."
"How long are you visiting for?"
"I'm not sure. I don't know if I can ever make myself back home."
"I know the feeling." A customer entered the bar. Cynthia smiled, "That's my cue. See you around."
Hermione nodded. She finished her food. She was panicking, a little. She wanted to run. She already felt like she had failed. She checked the bulletin boards where people would list things like rental properties. She saw Gonzale's Lake House for rent.
She headed to the ministry.
There were public records, dealing with births, deaths, marriages and such on the main level. She walked past lines of people waiting to renew licenses, pay tickets. The walls were in shining black tile, and the ceilings were tall.
The public records were kept in something like a library. Heaps of scrolls, and leather bound books in various sections, apparently arranged by date, and then alphabetical by name. They were not well organized. It took her hours to find all the information, and along the way discovered information she didn't need at all. The Gonzales properties were never formally switched from the father to the sons, in their entirety, so they were under different names, despite some of the people being dead. Some had some dubious histories, where the initial owner would leave the property in a will, to pass away a month later. There was another sold for almost nothing. She found the seven properties though, and slowly stuck out the Lake House, because it was empty.
She thought she would start with the most likely.
It would have to be tomorrow.
As she was leaving, she saw him in the foyer, walking towards the elevator. She almost thought it wasn't him, but it was. She tried to watch. It stopped on the 16th floor. That was where the head offices were. She thought back. There was no mention in the histories she had come across of him being involved in the Ministry. He'd had some supporters later on. Maybe the dates were a bit funny.
She shook her head. It didn't matter what he was doing. He wouldn't be doing it much longer.
The next day she started down the list. She couldn't apparate, due to the unknowable landscape and distance of the whole thing. Instead she flew.
She went to the apartment, and then to a farmhouse. She went to a castle in a bad state. None of it was there. She could tell by the children's toys in the yard, or the presence of other people that that wasn't where he lived. She got to a cottage on the top of a hill. It had flaking, white siding. The sun was low in the sky and so cast a shadow out long. She disguised her presence as best she could, which was pretty damn good, and walked up to it. She opened the door. It wasn't even locked.
There wasn't anything. Not a single book to be spoken of. And very few personal effects. Only toiletries, and clothing. His bed was made neatly. She tried everything she thought to do. Summoning, revealing, counter charms. She took a deep breath. She just wanted it to be over. She wanted it done. She wanted to kick something.
Instead, went straight for Borgin and Burkes.
Another customer was just leaving, and she nearly ran into them. She shoved the door open, a little harder than she meant to.
Voldemort was just inside.
"I've changed my mind about the pin," she said.
He said, "I'm sorry. You're too late. I sold it this morning."
"Such a shame," she set her hands on her hips. "I've just had the most inconvenient day." A few moments of silence passed. She focused on the angle of his brow. "I asked about you. The waitress at the Bullfrog's Tongue. She said she went to school with you."
He just watched her. He looked vaguely amused.
Maybe it was just a little science.
Maybe it was some sort of glamor charm or something.
Maybe it was because she was just frustrated, looking for an outlet.
It made her heart skip a beat. It was that whole body magnetic feeling, radiating from her inside out. It asked her to move closer. It wasn't something she didn't understand. She'd felt it before. Knew where it could go.
Didn't matter, with how fleeting it could be. She knew how it happened, and then it didn't happen. She knew how it faded. She knew that it wasn't something to abandon everything for. There wasn't any weight to it.
Hermione laughed. She wanted to run. She pictured herself gathering her robes in her fists and fleeing gracelessly. It was tempting. Instead she spoke, "She said you were insufferable, a complete teacher's pet."
He folded his arms across his chest, 'I wouldn't say that. It's late. We're closing up."
"Don't you wanna know why I asked about you?"
"No."
"Then What if I want to buy something?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow."
She shrugged, but stayed put. "Sure. I'll come back tomorrow."
He walked up to her until he was a foot away. His approach made her tense. He cocked his head, "Why aren't you leaving?" His voice lowered.
"I don't want to."
He studied her a moment, before reaching out to brush a loose curl behind her ear. He was examining. Evaluating. He smiled. "You should consider that souvenirs are overrated. Just clutter when it gets down to it. It simply means your trip wasn't memorable enough. You just need to make it something you can't forget. Would you like something to drink?"
"Maybe some water."
She watched him summon it. God she was awful at this. She didn't know how to get a handle on the situation. She felt like she was caught up in his script. Like this was a scene and whatever he wanted was what he got. She never really understood how he did what he did. Now she sort of almost got it.
He handed her a glass. She pictured straight-laced Lucious Malfoy feeling this way around him and smirked into her water. It did make her feel a little better.
"What?" He asked.
"Nothing. Where are the other shopkeepers?"
"Gone already."
He didn't seem to fall off guard. It was so practiced. She hated it. She wanted to tear it apart. It was unfair he appeared the way he did. The snake-like form was much more appropriate. The outside to match the inside. She thought about that. His hands withered to bone, and slick malformed flesh. His truest form. "That's a beautiful ring."
"Family Heirloom."
It was quiet. They just maintained eye contact, with that energy cracking between them. She looked away. "Well it's lovely." And she sipped at her water.
He walked over, stood close. He rested one hand, and then the other on her hips. He shifted a little closer. There was that fire. She gasped when he brought their lower bodies to press together.
She asked, "Shouldn't we go somewhere?" She didn't know what she was doing, but if he could take her home that would be great. Well, not great, and a little cheap, but she'd learned not to turn down an opportunity just because it didn't feel noble.
"Here's fine." He kissed her neck.
She closed her eyes. She'd always hated being alone. She hasn't been touched in forever. He almost felt human. It almost felt acceptable.
She felt she felt guilty. She wished he would feel that way.
Heat rushed into her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak. His mouth descended onto hers, in a kiss to seal her mouth, before she could. It felt like the Locket, when it was a Horcrux. A consuming, darkness. Like it was showing her the worst case that she would fail, that she would lose herself, that she would lose sight.
He loosened her robes.
She grabbed her wand from within them, and fired a stun into his abdomen. He stumbled back, but seemed to redirect the brunt of it up to an artifact atop a particularly precarious stack. She didn't see what it was exactly, it just shattered as it hit the ground. She fired another stun his way. Nothing lethal. Maybe she could get the information out of him another way, if she could incapacitate and interrogate.
No. If she could kill him she should.
He shot a spell to disarm her. She was ready, however, and defended herself against it. She fired back and forced him to walk back into the aisles. She apparated behind him, and fired a spell which narrowly missed, but toppled the relics to tumble on top of them. She didn't want to escape. That wasn't the point. She fired another stun. He tossed it off. She fired another one. He caught up to her physically and pressed her back against a wall, the tip of his wand pressed to her throat. He said, "You could have just said you'd changed your mind."
She bit her lip to hold back an apology. She wouldn't apologize for any of it. "That isn't the case for many men." She hated that he'd said that. She bet he was lying. He wouldn't have listened. He would've done whatever he wanted.
He backed away, and waved the fallen objects back into place.
The item which had fallen first, and shattered, was irreparably damaged.
"How much?" She asked.
"25 Galleons."
She just nodded, and tried not to panic. She opened her pouch. She didn't have enough money. She couldn't risk giving him the jewelry lest he recognize it. "I don't have that much on me."
"You can come back tomorrow with the money. Do yourself a favor and don't try and get away with it."
She nodded. See it was gone. There was something else. The way he was looking at her was different. It made her feel satisfied, even if she'd just failed to kill him, and that it maybe wasn't practically good for him to know what he was dealing with. Still, it felt good.
.
.
.
a/n: What do you think of my oc , pretty cute isn't she?