AN: Happy New Year Everyone! Please R&R!
Chapter 2
Stranger in the Dark
July 13th
'I'm off today,' Hermione thought as she woke, eyes opening and a pleasant wave of relaxation settling over her.
Looking out her window, as was habitual, she saw that the sky was just beginning to show color; the earliest stage of dawn. Even when she was off, Hermione still loved to wake before the sun had completely risen. She couldn't bear to miss a single morning.
Since it was a Thursday, Hermione knew her parents had to work and so she was prepared to spend the day alone. Which suited her just fine, she felt entirely comfortable within the solitude.
Rising and walking to the lavatory then, she undressed and stepped into the shower before sighing softly as she released the stream of warm water. It soothed the tense muscles in her back and she closed her eyes in comfort.
Left to the throes of her thoughts again, Hermione briefly wondered how many warm showers she would enjoy once she and the boys were out wandering the wilderness. Though she could easily cast a cleansing spell over herself, she was definitely going to miss the pleasure of a shower. It just wasn't the same.
After lingering within the water for several more minutes, Hermione finally stepped out and wrapped a towel around herself. Then, grabbing another, she began to run it through her hair, absorbing as much excess water as possible.
The condensation had fogged the mirror and so Hermione cleared a spot to make sure she got the part in her hair right. Never really choosing to run a brush through her strands, Hermione instead scrunched several sections between her fingers and checked for any tangled spots.
Reaching for her jasmine lotion she distributed it along her legs, arms and neck, while also adding just a bit to her chest. It was lovely, cool sensation, and the pleasant fragrance invigorated her and chased off the final remnants of fatigue.
She was officially ready to start the day.
Satisfied with her early preparations, Hermione changed into a short-sleeve blouse and a pair of thin denim jeans before walking downstairs, refilling Crookshanks' bowl, and then opening the door to step out into the fresh day.
Breathing in the morning air, Hermione began the walk to her favorite bookstore-which was located a mere three blocks away-and smiling politely at whomever happened to cross her path.
She felt the almost immediate thrill which always accompanied a trip to a location containing books. No matter how difficult things became or how strongly her troubles plagued her, she could always find an escape within a good novel.
Her pace quickened as her determination swept in. She decided that if she could find enough books to last the summer then it would spare her the reflections over what was coming.
Desiring a book that could captivate her, Hermione mentally began to file through all the qualities her books should contain. Mystery, intrigue, romance, thrills, etc…
'And originality,' Hermione added, though she knew this criteria would be the most difficult of all, considering how many novels she'd already read. It really was becoming increasingly difficult to find any unique works.
"Good morning, Hermione," the shopkeeper greeted as she entered the little establishment.
"'Morning, Sir Elliot," Hermione replied with a small wave.
He was an elderly gentleman with kind, soulful eyes and a pleasant smile. He also insisted that all of his regulars address him as 'Sir', so that they could be distinguished from his other guests.
Hermione drifted off amongst the tightly spaced rows, beginning to browse through the many volumes along the cluttered shelves as her excitement grew.
She could remember the title of everything she'd ever read, simply because she'd become so enamored within the stories. She never finished novels like the one she attempted last night however, because she never read through anything if it started off horribly.
Typically, though, she didn't come across that problem due to the fact that whenever she would go out and hunt for a book, she always made a point of reading the first few pages and get a feel for the quality of the writing.
On average it took her over an hour to decide upon a book, and since she was looking for several, she was fully expecting to spend most of the day within the confines of shelves. Every summer, Hermione would devote one day to book hunting, and it was something she always looked forward to.
However, about forty-five minutes into her search, Hermione still couldn't find what she sought, and it was beginning to frustrate her. It seemed that almost everything she picked up couldn't even come close to providing the necessary 'hook' she was looking for.
"You know, sometimes you can't tell the contents of the book simply by reading the first few pages. Some authors like to gradually capture your interest."
Hermione turned to see Sir Elliot standing beside her, his arms comfortably folded behind his back.
"Well, it's difficult when I'm not immediately captured."
Sir Elliot studied her eyes for several moments, and Hermione felt herself tempted to squirm within the intensity of his scrutiny.
"I think I have just the book for you," he spoke after a moment.
She blinked as he turned and began walking to the back of the store, where he climbed the step ladder and pried a large volume from the top shelf. She followed, curious, and simply waited for him as patiently as she could.
When he descended, he handed it over to her with a smile. "Just read the first few words."
Hermione turned the book over and read the title, "'Desiree'?"
After a nod, Sir Elliot turned to walk back to his desk. "It's the story of Napoleon's first love."
Biting her lip, Hermione opened the novel and inhaled the sweet scent of the aged pages. Smiling in anticipation, she then immediately poured herself into its contents and was pleasantly enamored by the excellence of its words.
Twenty minutes later she realized that she had read far more than she'd intended and, elated with the prospect of finding an intriguing story, Hermione closed it and tucked it beneath her arm almost possessively. Finally!
It was a novel of 588 pages and so it guaranteed a lengthy read, which was a rarity considering the speed at which she normally finished a book.
"Well?" Sir Elliot inquired as she made her way up to his desk.
Over all the years in which Hermione had frequented the library, not once had Sir Elliot offered a suggestion. He must have somehow been able to sense her dire need for a distraction.
"What else have you got?" she asked, a bit bashfully. She, in turn, had never asked for anyone else's literary guidance.
Smiling, the man motioned for her to follow and then proceeded to guide her through the rows of shelves, stopping ever so often to grab a book and hand it to her. By the end, she held six different novels within and, after setting them upon a table, she eyed the titles.
"'Rooftops of Tehran', 'the Rossetti Letter'…" she stopped and looked to Sir Elliot, "are these…all romance novels?"
He nodded, "indeed. But, all either historical or cultural."
Hermione sighed, "Well, I was kind of hoping for a bit of diversity."
Sir Elliot shook his head, "I think that these might be exactly what you need. Romance is a very significant part of life, and an important element to most all literary pieces. And besides, wouldn't you simply prefer some good stories over diversity?"
Hermione bit her lip before slowly nodding, "…yeah."
"Feel free to continue," Sir Elliot smiled and beckoned with a sweep of his hand.
Hermione nodded and returned his smile, "Thank you."
Turning then, she continued her search, careful not to think too heavily over the things Sir Elliot had said. Romance…a significant part of life. The implications of that were not something she was willing to consider at the moment.
She still had several hours to kill and so decided to devote at least one more to finding any novels she might have overlooked, maybe a few which would contain a bit more diversity.
When hour had come and gone and, after she felt her search was complete, Hermione left the bookstore with ten volumes. Eight historical romance novels, and just two which were within the mystery genre.
She felt the familiar itch to dive into the stories, her head spinning with excitement, as a wide grin plastered itself onto her face. Perhaps she could just spend the summer reading, instead of trying to plan for new and outlandish things.
With that thought, however, her pace slowed and her smile faded.
'No,' she chastised herself. 'Everything changes after this.'
Releasing a quivering sigh, Hermione glanced down at the bags she held in her hands and felt a heaviness take position inside of her. She needed to make her moments count, and the best way to do that would be to spend them with the people she loved most; her parents.
However, she knew that she couldn't allow her fears for the Wizarding world ruin her time at home, and so she decided that when she felt herself slipping to their hold, that she would pick up a novel and hide. Only then, though, or when there was absolutely nothing else she could be doing.
'But, I love to read,' she thought, 'and I might not be able to after my adventure starts.'
Shaking her head, she let out an exasperated breath and continued walking. She had no idea what to do.
Upon entering her bedroom, Hermione laid her bags gently on her desk and then decided to try and write a letter to Ron. She made up her mind to keep it as simple as possible, with only vague descriptions and without diverging into her concerns over what was happening and what was to come.
It took her over an hour, and many trial versions, to finally produce a note that she felt satisfied with. Sitting back then, she released a relieved breath and then looked to the many crumpled balls that were the rough drafts. Shaking her head, Hermione chuckled. Writing had never been so difficult.
Standing, she stretched her arms over her head and then looked up at the clock. It was still only half past four, which left a good hour until her parents were due to arrive home.
Biting her lip, Hermione decided that there really wasn't anything else she could be doing and so, with a wide grin, she fished out 'Desiree' and then ventured outside into the backyard, where she sat down against the base of a great willow-the only tree on the property.
For the remaining hour she lost herself within the story of a heroine whom she began to strongly admire as the story progressed. She read about how the girl fell in love with the great Napoleon Bonaparte, and of how her love became unrequited.
Pleasantly, Hermione found that her emotions were touched and that a strong bond was beginning to form between herself and the character. It was always most fulfilling that way, when a reader could really immerse you.
Looking up from the pages, Hermione breathed out evenly. For a long time, she had read nothing but Wizarding books, and, upon experiencing the history of her world within this novel, she felt a sudden sadness at the thought of leaving it behind.
She loved everything about it; the unbiased people, the culture, the technology, the knowledge. It was a world in which people had learned to do everything on their own, without the aid of anything external. They utilized the power of science and created things that most would have deemed impossible.
It had been a long time since Hermione had actually stopped to reflect on her own civilization. She had become so enraptured within the magical world that she had gradually begun to overlook the beauty of her own.
One of the blessings which the Wizarding community held was that it had remained socially unchanged for centuries. However, upon thinking over it, Hermione decided that, because her own world had changed so drastically over the centuries, it allowed for individuals to appreciate their history to a fuller extent.
She felt a stinging damp within her eyes and, shaking her head, Hermione forcibly composed herself.
'Yes,' she thought. 'I must try and enjoy it as much as possible.'
At that moment she saw the headlights pulling into the drive and, smiling, she closed the book and dashed inside, eagerly waiting to greet her parents.
July 14th
It was Friday and, as Hermione walked towards the restaurant, she smiled. Last night, she and her parents had made plans to go out Sunday. They were going to go to her favorite Italian diner and then watch the production downtown of 'Beauty and the Beast'.
It had been such a long time since they had actually gone out to do something together, and the excitement was nearly unbearable.
Walking inside, she inhaled the heavy scent of breakfast and then, seeing Sara, she remembered to ask if they could hang out sometime.
Hermione opened her mouth in greeting but Sara instantly looked up with a wide grin, effectively gaining the first word.
"'Morning, Hermione."
"Good morning, Sara."
"I said it right this time?"
Hermione nodded.
"Yay!" Sara squealed, clapping her hands.
Hermione laughed, "I actually came over here to ask if you wanted to go out sometime."
Sara thought about it a moment before nodding enthusiastically, "how about tomorrow night?! Me and some girlfriends are going to this techno club thing, and it's always sooo much fun!"
Hermione bit her lip before nodding, "sounds good."
Sara clapped her hands again, "this is going to be so great!"
Hermione forced a laugh before walking into the back and clocking in. She hoped it would be a good day for tips because she needed to go and purchase a new outfit for tomorrow night. A part of her felt nervous at the prospect of going to a club but, she enjoyed dancing and so a bigger part of her was extremely excited.
She just hoped she wasn't approached by any drunken men hoping for a good time, because Lord help her, she would jinx the living daylights out of them.
For the most part, boys at Hogwarts were gentlemanly in behavior and Hermione had nearly overlooked the fact that some of the men in her own world were quite another story.
"Hermione, you have a table!" Sara said from around the corner.
Hermione smiled in thanks and then rushed over to a family of four. The children, twins, a boy and a girl, smiled as they saw her, eager expressions on their faces.
Moments like these were the ones which made her truly enjoy her new job. It brought such a rewarding feeling.
The boy had blonde hair and striking, silver eyes, with dimples at the corners of his grin. He was the first to order and Hermione could tell that he was trying to sound profound in front of her.
His manners were impressive though; more so than the majority of children Hermione encountered.
"You're very pretty," he suddenly remarked, resulting in a laugh from both his parents.
Hermione smiled, "well, aren't you the little charmer?"
The boy looked a little confused for moment, before continuing. "Most of the girls I know are all too silly, but you seem really smart."
"Thank you," Hermione replied. The child was such a sweetheart.
"You always hate my friends!' his sister suddenly shouted, her cheeks turning red.
The boy shook his head, "No, I just said they're silly."
His sister was about to retort when their parents told them both to be quiet and then turned to apologize to Hermione.
"It's alright," Hermione replied with a wave of her hand, "they're actually far better behaved than most of the children I come across."
As she turned to enter their order, she glanced back at the boy, who was rolling his eyes at his sister while she continued to make ugly faces in his direction.
He reminded her of someone she knew, but she couldn't quite figure out who it was. There weren't a lot of children in her acquaintance.
The family didn't linger, and they were soon replaced by a pair of newlyweds. Throughout the entire meal they fawned over each other, making Hermione feel slightly uncomfortable whenever she happened to glance their way.
She could never imagine herself acting like that with anyone. Ever. Especially in a public place.
Sara thought they were adorable which inwardly reminded Hermione that she was somewhat set apart from the rest of the female population.
"Another good day, Hermione," Ted encouraged as she was clocking out.
Hermione smiled, "Thanks."
She turned to leave and waved to Sara, who enthusiastically returned the gesture.
The two had exchanged phone numbers on their break, and it was decided that, after work, they would meet up at Sara's house, since that was the place all of the other girls were to meet.
As Hermione walked towards the mall, she kept trying to imagine the night to come. All of the girls, she was certain, would be similar to Sara and she couldn't help but feel slightly anxious at the prospect of feeling left out.
Hermione shook her head then. No, she was determined not to let that happen. They would gawk at attractive men and so she would also gawk. They would dance their brains out, and so she would also lose her brains.
Chuckling, she adjusted her handbag and glanced up at the cloudy sky. A storm would probably hit in a few hours, and Hermione definitely didn't feel like walking home in the rain. She had to make this shopping ordeal quick.
"In and out", she told herself, "got to be in and out."
The wind began to pick up and it tousled her hair in just about every direction. The air was growing colder as well, and Hermione slipped into the sweater she carried on her arm as she felt the chills across her skin.
Pulling open the glass doors, she was greeted by the sounds of shoes on marble and people chattering from all around her. The fountain in the square gushed its elegant stream into the wishing basin beneath, and Hermione noted that many couples, especially teenagers, enjoyed sitting on the ledge and throwing pennies into the pool.
"Okay," she breathed, "where to start?"
Her eyes scanned the stores alongside each side of the building until they rested on a rather sophisticated looking place, with very fashionably dressed mannequins display behind the window.
'Could be a promising place to start.'
In truth, she had no idea what she was looking for and, as she walked into the store, she simply gazed around a moment, hoping for inspiration to spark.
"Anything I can help you with?" A greeter inquired.
Hermione shook her head, "no, thank you. I'm just looking."
The woman nodded, "very good. Just let me know if you need anything."
Hermione liked the style of the clothes, but she had to admit they were a tad too classy for where she was going. And so, with a sigh, she glanced once more at a particularly appealing display before turning and leaving.
She then went into a store designed for a younger generation, in which the clothes definitely looked more promising.
However, they all seemed a bit too revealing for Hermione's comfort and, after searching countless minutes for something—anything—wearable, she decided to try somewhere else. As she turned to go, she heard the first rumble of thunder and shook her head in frustration. She had to hurry.
Searching through four more stores and trying on several outfits, Hermione was about to just give up all together when she spotted a department that one of the other Muggle-born witches had gushed over.
Mentally crossing her fingers, she ventured inside and smiled in delight. Yes, it was perfect! The clothes were flashy, elegant, and fun. Her vendetta was filled.
She spent over forty-five minutes trying to decide upon a top. A stone-washed pair of skinny-legged jeans were draped over her arm and some hooped earrings were clasped in her hand.
Biting her lip, she surveyed the three shirts in front of her. One was a deep. red satin with thin spaghetti straps and rhinestones along the neckline. Hermione loved the color red and found it suited her well. The second was an autumn gold color with some copper shaded lace decorating the top and bottom of the sleeveless piece. She loved the color gold as well and liked the way it complimented her eye and hair colors.
The third shirt was a silk halter with an elegant and abstract array of silver, blue and black. It reminded Hermione of Asian art and she found it to be quite pleasing.
All three were different and so it made the decision more difficult. She lingered and debated for several minutes before finally going with the halter. She didn't own anything else like it and so it was the reasonable choice. She had plenty of red and gold in her wardrobe.
The cashier complemented her choice as she was checking out and Hermione smiled in thanks. As much as she hated the shopping process it felt somewhat refreshing to be out doing something that any average girl her age would enjoy.
As Hermione left the store she walked out into the main thro of people and grinned as she mingled among them. It felt safe and predictable. No illusions, or fear, or magic. Just ordinary people, out enjoying their lives and neither worrying or caring what tomorrow would bring.
Hermione admittedly envied them. It was truly the first time since she had been accepted into Hogwarts that she saw what she was being asked to leave behind-what she had already agreed to sacrifice.
There was magic in her world too. It was of a different kind, yes, but still every bit as enchanting. It was in the beauty of simplicity, the brilliance of invention, and the wonders of creation and memory.
Humankind had constructed monuments that would put even the most powerful Wizards to shame. They had accomplished feats that the most talented Witch could never endeavor. They did it all without the aid of an external force, but through unity and skill alone.
This thought brought the realization that she was absolutely proud to be among them. Hermione Granger was proud to call herself a Muggle. Where once her bloodline had brought only embarrassment and self-abhorrence, it now soared through her and made her feel a part of something greater.
Thunder cracked and lightening split the sky and, upon seeing that the storm was already well under way, Hermione decided to slip into another shop and purchase an umbrella.
The store smelled of wax and spices, and Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled it. It was such a sweet, pleasant sort of fragrance. She loved the way candles smelled when all mixed and compacted in a small space. Spotting umbrellas at the register she grabbed one and bought it, the clerk commenting on how much she loved Hermione's hair.
Hermione only smiled in thanks-a little unused to any complimentary remarks where her hair was concerned-before leaving and opening the umbrella. She pushed open the glass doors and stepped out into the raging tempest, shuddering as it lashed out at her.
She was surprised by how dark it had grown in the last few hours. It was even considerably chilly, and the wind bit at her face like a snarling beast.
Pulling her jacket tightly around her torso, Hermione began to calculate how long it would take her to get home.
'Probably about 15 minutes or so,' she thought with a shake of her head.
Her teeth began to chatter and, as she walked, the sky grew ever darker, the clouds looming menacingly above. She looked down at her watch and bit her lip.
'So much for hurrying.'
She had spent over two and a half hours in the mall, and it was already after seven.
'Mum and Dad are probably worried,' she thought in frustration. She hated making them worry.
Her boots sloshed through countless puddles, soaking the front of her jeans and the skin underneath. Hermione typically didn't mind water, but it only served to dampen her mood at the moment.
As she neared the alleyway, Hermione knew that to cut through would be much faster than to go all the way around the next several blocks. It looked very dark though, and it made Hermione nervous as she bit her lip and weighed her options.
Nothing had ever happened to her in all the years she had been walking to and fro and, more than that, she had a wand. She was by no means defenseless. Having already reached the age of 17, there would be no repercussions were she to use magic outside of school.
Pushing her anxiety aside, Hermione inhaled and entered the alleyway. It was so dark that she could see only through the faint breaks of light emitted through the storm. However, she knew that much worse was awaiting her in the next six months to come, and so it was vital that she not allow fear to hold her now.
As soon as that thought escaped her though, a shadow moved within her peripheral and Hermione instantly looked to her left as a small gasp was released from her mouth. Heart accelerating, she gazed intently at the area before finally deciding that it must've only been due to her present, hypersensitive imagination.
Walking forward, she continued only a few steps before she saw the distinct outline of a person a few feet ahead. Hand tightening on her wand, Hermione swallowed and focused on which spell would prove most advantageous should the individual prove threatening.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
There was no reply, only the rustling of cloth as the figure disappeared around the corner.
Hermione could still see their shadow on the wall and debated whether to continue or to turn and go the long way back.
'Oh, for Heaven's sake!' She chastised herself, 'you're a top-of-her-class Gryffindor!'
Mind made up, Hermione Granger continued forward and, turning the corner she discovered no one standing there. Her brows furrowed and she scanned the area briefly. How strange…
Biting her lip, she was about to turn and go when she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her.
Eyes widening and hand clenched about her wand tightly, Hermione turned to face the stranger in the dark.