28, August 2000
Hermione fingered the hemline of the black skirt in her closet. She stared at the back of her closet with eyes unseeing as she ran her fingers over the threads of the wool. She hadn't brought nearly enough clothes home with her. She left her dormitory in such a hurry that she'd neglected to bring anything suitable for her office visit. It hadn't occurred to her to pack more professional clothes, leaving her with only what her closet at the Den provided.
The day after her father passed, she returned to campus even through Harry and Ron's arduous protests. With her research schedule barreling full speed ahead like the Hogwarts Express, she just could not afford to miss the time. Even though she was well ahead, she refused to let her personal life set her back.
Not that she was able to retain any information in the days leading up to the funeral. She'd made all of the funeral arrangements by phone and arrived to Godric's Hollow the night before with enough time to crash into bed. At no time did she consider post funeral obligations like the reading of the will.
For the most part her wardrobe de jour still consisted of casual and active wear but she managed to locate the simple black skirt from her Hogwarts years and pair it with a silk top she'd kept after cleaning her mother's belongings from the little Australia cottage. She sighed, still fingering the skirt as she thought about the idea of cleaning out another home.
"It'll look fine." Hermione flinched and whipped around, surprised by the presence of another. Harry was leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into the pocket of his favorite hooded sweatshirt. "And Ron asked me to tell you goodbye, by the way; had to get an early start with trainees and couldn't bring himself to wake you." She nodded acknowledging his statement.
"This skirt is wool. It's August." She said detached.
"Yes but you'll be spending the better part of today in a muggle office. You know how hard it can be to control the temperature." She nodded again and slid the skirt on over her sweats while simultaneously tugging them down. She pulled the shirt on above her camisole and appraised the final look in the mirror from all angles.
Hermione wished the boys had thought to put a three way mirror in her dressing area so she could see her bum clearly. She'd had a growth spurt and her curves had significantly filled out since she purchased the skirt in her sixth year. She wasn't quite sure it was appropriate.
"The skirt is fine," Harry reaffirmed to halt further over thinking from one of the world's most notorious over thinkers.
Harry was right of course. It still didn't stop her from fidgeting. She was incredibly nervous. At least with the dilemma of what to wear to focus on, she didn't have to think of what was on the horizon.
"I could go with you," Harry offered again, breaking her thought process. "I've got the day off and nothing would make happier than to tag along." He said this while giving her that boyish grin that made girls, and boys alike, go weak in the knees. She found herself wanting to accept the offer. She was independent and strong all the time and right now she didn't want to be. Harry was giving her an out.
"Could you really? It wouldn't be a bother?" He pushed off the wall, stepping into the room.
"How could you ever be a bother? Just give me a minute to change and we can head out."
True to his word, Harry was ready and in his car in five minutes, dressed in an oxford and slacks with his ever present messy hair. With time to spare, they opted to drive.
They drove in silence, mostly become Hermione was too wired to hold an intelligent conversation without babbling. She continued to toy with the skirt's hem. Harry reached across the passenger's seat and took her left hand in his, putting an abrupt stop to her nervous tick.
He held her hand lightly in his while he stroked the back with his thumb, trying to ease some of the tension which had become so thick in the car, it was almost suffocating. He continued to gently rub her hand. Each crease and ink mark and callous, he trailed hoping to sooth its owner. Slowly, he felt it as the anxiety rolled off of her. He looked over at Hermione and smiled to find her picking at his sleeve with her unoccupied hand.
He marveled at how comfortable he was with her. Even with her apprehensive trembling, he felt more at ease in her presence that with anyone else, except Ron of course. She was one of the few people whose touch he allowed and enjoyed. Sure, he'd dated here and there over the last few years, but rarely did he encourage physical contact with those women and he surely never initiated it.
No, Hermione was different. She provided him with a level of physical intimacy, he'd never known. She soothed the rough edges left over from a life devoid of physical contact, thanks to the Dursleys. From her hearty unapologetic hugs when they were apart to her passing touch when he worked from his desk at home to her feet in his lap while they listened to the wireless, Hermione proved herself time and time again to be a tactile creature. He wanted to offer her the same quiet comfort she offered him.
Harry pulled into a spot close to the address from the business card.
"That's strange," Hermione mused aloud, as she stepped from the car. She looked once more at the card and then at their surroundings. She hadn't known there to be muggle offices in this area. She was certain they were all wizarding kiosks. There were wizarding marquees on all the stores as well. Even the number they were looking for was almost completely hidden by Spicky's Spotless Shine: Magical Laundering for a Magical You.
She hesitated to go into the worn oak door of the address. For some reason, she couldn't seem to shake a feel of foreboding. She glanced at Harry, glad for his offer to accompany her. She wasn't exactly worried about what the will would say. She was the only child of two deceased parents with no extended family. Everything would more than likely go to her. And her father was never one to leave loose ends. He'd taken care of business so well while he was alive, there was no doubt in her mind that he would be just as attentive in death. But for some reason, she was still afraid.
'There's nothing to fear," she told herself as she turned the knob on the door at last. As she entered, a wave of cool air slammed into her body, causing her hair to stand on end. Chilly, as Harry promised.
Her mind immediately began memorizing the warmly lit office space, remnant behaviors from the war. She quickly took in the signed and numbered lithographs on the wall, the plush leather armchairs beside a glass coffee table and the general home like environment. On the other side of the room was a large desk with a young woman behind it, whose animated speaking voice carried across the room as she yammered into the telephone while filing her claw-like nails and chewing energetically on what must have been a delicious piece of blowing gum.
Hermione walked to the desk to check in, ready to tell the girl her name and the time of her appointment. Before Hermione could so much as get a word out, the woman -Alice her name plate read- cut her off clucking her tongue disapprovingly as she told Hermione to have a seat in the waiting area. Alice raised her head to look down her nose at Hermione before something past Hermione's left shoulder caught her eye.
"You-you're Harry Potter," she stammered in shocked awe, almost losing that piece of gum. The look on Harry's face said he was as shocked as Alice. It wasn't everyday he was recognized in a muggle establishment. He looked quizzically at Hermione asking her to explain this odd woman. Before Hermione had a chance to speak, Alice once more cut her off at the quick. "This is a joint muggle and wizarding firm," she said, gaining confidence. Hermione nodded. That would explain the surrounding area.
Alice stood, reaching across the desk and extending a clawed, red nailed hand in Harry's direction for him to shake. She clutched his hand, leering, and pumped it a few times suggestively. She regained control of herself as though finally remembering who and where she was.
"Wow, so what brings you in Mr. Potter. Oh silly me. If you're Harry Potter, then you must be Hermione Granger. You have an appointment in a few minutes," she said knowledgeably, as though she knew something Hermione didn't. Hermione rolled her eyes and sent a quick prayer for grace to the nearest deity. Harry tugged her shirt above her hip pulling her a bit closer to him.
"Calm down," he whispered into her hair as Alice picked up the phone, finally ready to do her job. She hit a flashing button and announced Hermione's arrival.
"You two may have a seat," she said managing to show her tongue more than Hermione comfortable. Luckily, she directed her statements to Harry.
Harry and Hermione were not waiting very long before the black shoed man from the funeral appeared from a door behind the desk. They stood as he approached, looking skeptically from Harry to Hermione and back again.
"Ms. Granger," he paused, attempting to find the words, "I asked that you come alone."
"He isn't coming in, he just came for moral support." Harry gave Hermione a wry smile as the barrister looked as though he was attempting to find a way to argue their logic.
"Well alright then,' he conceded, realizing he would gain nothing by fighting this battle. "Ms. Granger if you'll just follow me." He made an abrupt about face, striding towards the back room without checking to make sure that Hermione was behind him. She looked back at Harry giving him the 'what's with this guy' look. He offered her a shrug as he sank back into the leather, reaching for a copy of Quidditch Quarterly from the coffee table.
Heitz led her to a small conference room with one the longest tables she'd ever seen outside of the great hall. Heitz motioned for her to sit as he moved beside a television and VCR on a rolling cart. He turned them on and an image of her father appeared on the screen. She recognized the background immediately. It was her dad's dental office. The video began without pause.
Hello, love. If you're watching this, I assume I am no longer with you. Unless you have just carried out your strange sense of humor right into your later years. But I am assuming that I am gone. I am so sorry that I am not with you. This is my last will and testament... And before you ask, I am of sound mind and body… I assume you've met Mr. Heitz. He is the executive of my estate and I trust that it's in good hands… My wishes are simply, love. Everything is yours. I'm leaving it all to you, the offices, the houses, the cabin, the boats, they are yours to do with as you see fit." He paused as thought thinking deeply.
"I know I didn't include you much in the practices. But it was for your own good. You were running around saving the world with the Harry and the Ronald fellow and there was just not enough had more important things to accomplish. And I understand that. Your mother and I… well your mother and I, we loved the young woman you were becoming…so ground… so level headed… so strong" he said pausing again.
"And we didn't want to ruin it by turning you into one of those girls with a trust fund like the ones at your prep school." Hermione rolled her eyes at the mere thought of them, knowing exactly which girls her father was referencing.
"My will has only one condition. You have been a wonderful girl. A good girl all your life. Your mother and I, and Harry and Ron to an extent has done nothing but try to protect you. Over protect you in some cases. You need to go out and experience things. You've always been true to yourself and now I need to know what is truly in your heart. I know you've been saving yourself but you're young. You should be experiencing all that life has to offer. So this is your one condition. You must lose your virginity before your next birthday."
Hermione flinched as his words washed over her. Was he mad? Sound mind and body he said? Impossible. There was definitely not enough time. Her pulse raced as her breathing grew shallow.
"The day after your next birthday, you are to report back to this office to hear the remainder this tape."
She couldn't believe. The men in her life spent the better part of the last decade chasing boys away and now her father was pushing her right to them. This had to be a sick joke.
"Your father's wishes are clear," Heitz said shutting off the telly.
"Exactly how much money are we talking about here?" Hermione asked.
"A little over 1.5 million pounds plus estate", Hermione's eyes grew incredibly large at an amount that was completely impractical for two average dentists.
"Of course, this will be given to you in trust but we'll work that out at a later time. I have taken the liberty of making you an appointment with your family physician for Friday the twentieth of September. That gives you a little over three weeks to accomplish your task. I will see you then." He extended his hand for a shake and left the room, leaving her to her own dangerous thoughts.
She was confused. Why? What was he thinking? Would it hurt? Who would she do it with? It wasn't like she had anyone special in her life. Did it need to be with someone special? Would the tight timeline take the special right out of it? Would she regret it if she did it? Would she regret it if she didn't?
She could go into magical creatures' right without ever worrying about funding. She could live out her dream and afford to eat, not that the Weasleys or Harry would ever let her starve.
Oh God, the Weasleys! What would Harry and Ron think? She needed to go face one of them right now. She stood and returned to the waiting room. Harry opened his mouth to speak but closed it upon seeing her face. He opened his arms and she went to him as he wrapped her in a warm embrace.
"Outside", he said into her hair. She nodded, holding back the dam of tears, as they walked outside together. He walked until they reached his car. Harry opened her palm and dropped his key into it.
"Drive safe. I will see you at home," he said placing a kiss on her forehead and walking to a nearby alleyway. She followed him with her eyes until she her a soft crack signaling disapparation.
Hermione got into the car and after adjusting all of the setting, peeled away from the curb at a neck breaking speed.