Chapter Seventeen
Sally gave a groan of relief as she finally closed her last file. Setting it on top of the neatly organized pile on her desk, Sally gave a quick flick of her wand. As the stack of files flew over to the cabinet and began sorting themselves into place, the blonde haired woman stood up from her chair and stretched her arms wearily. Stealing a look at the clock she decided it was time to call it a night. Despite having nothing but an empty flat to race home to, anywhere but her cold hard desk sounded like a place she'd rather be. It'd been almost two hours since Miss Granger had left and Sally couldn't help but be curious about how the date was going. She found herself genuinely hoping it was going well and looked forward to badgering Miss Granger on Monday for details. One of them needed to have a real life and if Sally couldn't be the one, then she would happily live vicariously through her boss.
Sally checked to see that the files had finished sorting before switching off her desk lamp and muttering a quick nox to douse the main lights in the front office. Pulling her cloak on, the blonde picked up her briefcase and stepped out of the warm office onto the dark street. The young woman gave a violent shiver and pulled her cloak tighter to herself in an effort to ward off some of the night's cold. It had started snowing hours ago and thus had added at least another two inches to the eight they already had on the ground. Sally was not looking forward to trudging through it to get home but knew she was to tired to apparate. After locking the front door, Sally pulled her hood and stepped out on to the street. Her internal debate between going home for left over's or just heading to the Leaky Caldron were interrupted by a deep voice calling her name.
"Miss Sheffield! Vait please!"
Sally stopped and turned around to find a familiar Bulgarian jogging up to her through the snow. She blinked in confusion for a moment but gathered her bearings just in time for Viktor Krum to catch up to her,
"Mr. Krum," she greeted with a polite smile. "How are you?"
"Very vell, thank you," he smiled back.
"What brings you here this late?"
"I vas valking back to Leaky Caldron vhere I am staying und saw light on in office. Vhat in name of Merlin are you doing here so late? Is Hermy-own-ninny vorking you into early grave vith herself?" the dark haired wizard laughed a bit harder at his own joke than most people would have.
Sally couldn't stop the unflattering snort she made. A genuine laugh escaped her lips though and she shook her head.
"No, I chose to work late tonight. Miss Granger actually left hours ago. I had lots of paper work to catch up on and didn't feel like leaving it for Monday. Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today my mum always said."
"Is very vise person, your mother," Viktor said. "But still, is not safe for beautiful young vuman such as yourself to be valking home alone, especially on cold snowy night like this. I shall valk vith you home."
A part of Sally bristled at the implication that she couldn't take care of herself, however an entirely different part of her self was blushing wildly at the handsome wizard's words. Thankfully it was very dark out.
"Mr. Krum, I couldn't possibly impose on you like that."
"Is not impose if myself offer first. Please I insist you let me to valk you home, Miss Sheffield. Hermy-own-ninny never forgive me if I don't see you somevhere safe."
"Well the thing is, I'm not going home just yet," Sally said, shifting her briefcase to her other hand. The featherlite charm had worn off awhile ago.
"Ah, is going to spend time vith boyfriend no doubt," he chuckled. If Sally were a less sane person she would have sworn he sounded disappointed.
Sally chuckled and shook her head, "Have to have a boyfriend to spend time with one, which I don't. No, I skipped lunch because of an emergency meeting at the ministry and cooking sounds like more energy than I am capable of at the moment so I figured I would just stop at the Leaky for a late supper."
Krum barely suppressed a smile at the witch's words.
"Vell then I suppose I vill just have to escort you to dinner and then home, yes?" Krum said as he took Sally's briefcase from her before offering his other arm. "Und vhile ve are not on case, I ask please you call me Viktor."
"I suppose then it's only fair that you call me 'Sally'," the blonde witch smiled and took the offered arm. This was probably a very bad idea, but even Sally had to admit it was a lot more appealing that trudging home to an empty flat and three day old casserole.
... _ ... _ ...
By the grace of whatever up on high seemed to be enjoying messing with her, Hermione would not be completely with out revenge that night. About the time their first course arrived, the universe decided to throw the poor frazzled witch a bone. George may have out maneuvered her on the subject of foreign cuisine, however when it came to the subject of foreign cutlery… Well… let's just say his education was a bit lacking.
As the grin slowly slipped off her dinner companion's face, Hermione thought she might just explode with glee.
George eyed the pair of sticks in his hand curiously. When the waiter had handed him essentially looked like two very skinny identical wands, George had no clue what they were even for let alone what to do with them. Casting a quick glance around the room, the redhead came to the swift and shocking conclusion that he was suppose to use them to eat with! George stared at the sticks in slight horror. Exactly how he was supposed to use these things to eat with? He peered over at Granger to see if he could learn by watching her. He did not miss the self-satisfied look in her eyes as she gracefully plucked up a piece of sushi and effortlessly lift it to her lips. Her fingers seemed to be literally wrapped around the sticks themselves. A feat which mystified and intrigued him at the same time.
George gave a few tries at it but just couldn't seem to mimic the proper way to hold the sticks. He settled in the end for just spearing a piece of one of his rolls like a primitive hunter before popping it in to his mouth. The unconventional method of eating was worth watching Granger snort into her wine glass. The look on their waiter's face wasn't a bad bonus either. As George chewed the slightly crunchy piece of rolled up rice and vegetables he decided that sushi wasn't so bad.
Hermione chuckled. "Here," she said, picking up a small container with a red cap that had been sitting on the end of the table. She then poured some of its contents into a tiny blue dish that had been stacked next to the bottle. George had spent the better part of half an hour trying to figure out the purpose of that stupid dish. "Dip the rolls in that. It makes them taste fantastic."
George was only half listening., being that he was far to busy sheathing several roll pieces on to one of the sticks like a shish-ka-bob. Hermione blinked owlishly at her dinner date.
"George, what on earth are you doing!"
"Eating," George gave her sardonic look as he bit one off.
"You're supposed to use both of the chop sticks to pick the pieces up individually, not skewer half a dozen of them like a fish."
"Marvelous idea I'm sure. One problem though," George said, nibbled at another piece. "I don't seem to possess the ability to use these 'chop sticks', and my date doesn't seem to be able to cease her smugness at having gotten one over on me long enough to demonstrate how to use said sticks either. I am thus at an impasse and must settle for an alternative method of using this so called eating utensil."
Hermione blushed in a bit of shame, though it was clear he wasn't angry.
"I'm sorry, George, you're right. Here, let me show you."
It took a good twenty minutes before George was able to clutch the chop sticks properly but after that he seemed to have the hang of it and the couple settled into an easy conversation for the rest of the meal. Hermione couldn't find it in herself to find a single thing wrong with the evening thus far. George had been a perfect gentleman, dinner was delicious and she hadn't laughed this much in months. The bushy haired book worm found herself genuinely having a good time.
By the time the bill had arrived, George and Hermione were discussing where to go next. With dinner paid and a sizeable tip left, George helped Hermione into her coat before opening the door for her. As the two of them stepped out onto the street, George checked to make sure no one was looking before casting a stasis charm and shrinking spell on their left over's and slipping them into his pocket.
Despite being rather full from dinner, Hermione was rather intrigued by the café and bakery George suggested for dessert and readily agreed on that as their next destination. Ducking back down their alleyway, George pulled Hermione into his arms. She barely had time to blush before he winked at her and apparated them to the other side of London. Hermione was a little concerned when she realized he had apparated them right in front of the store instead of some where discreet.
"Don't worry," George waved off her nervous look. "This place has a powerful notice me not charm around the whole building. You could apparate right next to a muggle but so long as you do so with in a ten foot perimeter of the store they won't notice."
Hermione barely managed an "Oh…" before George opened the door and ushered her in. Instantly Hermione's nose was assaulted with the most wonderful blend of fragrances. The bouquet of ground coffee and fresh bread lingered in the air with just a hint of what smelled like cherries. She caught wonderful whiffs of cinnamon too. The café was not large however it had a cheerful atmosphere with bright yellow walls and posters of famous muggle broadways all over the place. On the speakers over head an upbeat turn played. The room was dotted with tables and chairs, yet a few couches and arm chairs were gathered around each other off in a far corner. The front of shop held a long glass case completely packed full with every kind of baked good Hermione's imagination could conjure. The shelves behind the glass case were filled to capacity with everything from fresh loaves of artisan style bread to dozens upon dozens of different flavored danishes and muffins.
There was no one in the shop besides themselves. George looked around for a moment.
"Oi, Claire! You here?"
The crash and clatter from the back of the shop that followed startled Hermione enough to grip her wand. Soon a young woman with a long brown braid, laughing hazel eyes and bright blue rimmed glasses stumbled out of the back area. She was tall, wore an apron that matched her glasses and was covered in splatter from what appeared to be frosting and dough. Smears of flour peppered her face and arms.
"George Weasley, you bleeding little prat!" she exclaimed, though her irritation was clearly a front for her excitement. "You haven't been here in months! I ought to be offended."
"My dear Claire if I came here as often as I wanted to I would not be the model of perfection that you see before you," George teased. "Rather I'd look more like that cinnamon roll you have on display."
"Still, I shan't forgive you unless you have at least three treats tonight," the woman, apparently named Claire sniffed with mock indignation.
"With pleasure," he smiled back. "Dearest Claire, I would like to introduce you to my good friend, Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Claire Beaumont."
"So this is the famous Hermione Granger," the brunette smiled and wiped her flour covered hand on her apron before extending it to Hermione. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Like wise, Miss Beaumont," Hermione smiled back and shook her hand.
"It's just Claire if you please," she winked. "So, what can I get for the two of you?"
George grinned from ear to ear, "What's fresh?"
Claire got a gleam in her eye and dashed into the back again. She was gone for only a moment and returned with a small plate piled with several piping hot beignets. The still steaming treats were covered in powdered sugar and drizzled with honey. Hermione nearly drooled on the woman's counter. A moment later the beignets and two steaming cups of cocoa were sitting on a tray and being pushed across the counter towards the couple.
"Just finished these for tomorrow," Claire said with a proud smile. "You can be my guinea pigs."
"I love it when you use me," George waggled his eye brows and reached for his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"
Claire snorted and shoved the tray into George's hands, "Put your wallet away, Weasley. You know your money is no good here. I have to get back to cleaning, just holler if you need anything else."
With that she winked at the pair and disappeared back through the swinging doors.
"Come on, the couch is the best seat in the house," George motioned with his head in the direction of the worn old sofe in the corner.
As George set the tray down on the dark brown coffee table in front of the couch, Hermione took her coat off in the warmth of the bakery and draped it over the arm of a chair.
"Claire seems friendly," she said.
"Oh yeah, she's is great. Her brother Greg was in Gryffindor too but you wouldn't have met him. He was in Charlie's year and they graduated just before you and the boy wonders showed up," George replied as he handed her a mug of chocolate. "Careful it's hot."
"I don't remember Claire from Hogwarts," Hermione said, sipped carefully at her cocoa. "What house was she in?"
George sat down before snatching up a beignet and his own mug, "Oh Claire never went to Hogwarts," he said in between sips. "Claire's a squib. Greg use to talk about her all the time though so we all sort of knew her by proxy. They were really close. When the war hit, being purebloods, their parents tried to pressure Greg into taking the dark mark to ensure their family stayed in the good graces of the 'winning party'."
Hermione's stomach churned just enough at the mention of the war that she lowered her mug to wait for the sickening sensation to cease. "So what happened?" she asked.
"Well Greg wasn't sorted into Gryffindor for nothing," George replied with a smiled. "He packed what he could, took Claire and they went underground. He showed up for the final battle though and fought along side Charlie and their other year mates. Their parents had basically disowned them both for their disappearing act, so after the war they moved to here and started the shop. Claire was never be able wield a wand, but she found a way to perform magic none the less. It was a little rough for them at first but thanks to a pair of handsome and intelligent investors that give them a financial leg up, the shop is doing great."
"So that's why you're money is no good here," Hermione smiled as she felt confident enough to sample a beignet. George wasn't lying. The sweet and flakey pastry was to die for! She'd have to buy some to take home.
"I never said Fred and I were the investors," he laughed.
Hermione rolled her eyes but chuckled, "You didn't have to. It was very sweet of you though to do that for them."
George blushed slightly under the praise and he ran his hand through his hair bashfully, "Just paying it forward I suppose," the red head resumed munching on the pastries. "When Harry gave Fred and me his tournament prize money it was the first time we were truly able to grasp the idea that our dream of owning a joke shop could be a reality. To be able to do that for someone else? Well it just seemed right. Don't know if that makes any sense to anyone but Fred and me but there you have it."
Hermione smiled warmly at the ginger haired man and reached over to lay her hand over his. "It makes perfect sense, George," she smiled and squeezed his hand gently before resuming her attack on the fantastic dessert.
George felt his ear get a little warm, which was a pretty good indicator that he was probably blushing. He had been amazed at the softness of her hand and had to stop himself several times during the rest of dessert from reaching out and trying to hold it again.
By the time they were finished Claire had returned to the front of the store to badger them with questions about how the beignets turned out. It took the pair an additional hour to convince the brunette that they were indeed delicious and not a thing could be done to improve their perfection, except perhaps to make some with chocolate in them. Finally satisfied with their answers, the bespectacled woman put some tarts, cakes and muffins in a box and handed it to Hermione. She also refused to let her pay for them. Instead the bushy hair witch promised to pass them out at her office and tell everyone where she'd gotten them… after she sampled a few that is.
Claire waved the pair off with a giant smile as they left the bakery and apparated back to Hermione's flat building. They rode the lift in a comfortable silence all the way to Hermione's level before getting off and wandering down the hall to her door. George took the shrunken box of left over's from the restaurant out of his pocket and returned it to its normal size.
"Now was that so painful?" he teased as he handed the two boxes to Hermione.
The book worm smiled sheepishly and tucked a loose curl back behind her ear, "It was lovely, George. Really, I had a good time. I didn't think I would, but I did. Thank you."
"No, thank you," George smiled and took her hand in his. Hermione turned scarlet as he pressed his lips gently to the back of it.
"Would uh… would you like to come in?" she stammered.
Every corner of his brain seemed to be screaming YES but George regretfully shook his head. "I would love to, but we have a long day tomorrow remember?"
How could she forget? A whole day at the Burrow buried in a sea of red heads. On the other hand after tonight, spending a whole day with George around didn't sound as bad as it had on last Monday.
"Right, well then I guess I'll just see you tomorrow then," Hermione muttered and turned to unlock her door. "Thank you again, George."
George surprised her by hooking his finger underneath her chin and raising her head to look at him, "Believe me, Hermione," he grinned wolfishly. "It was entirely my pleasure."
With that he pressed a kiss to her cheek so tender that by the time George pulled away Hermione was the shade of a tomato.
"See you tomorrow, Granger," George winked and headed back towards the lift.
Hermione quickly ducked into her flat, closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment. Knowing no one could see or hear her, the bushy haired witch let out a squeal of delight followed by a highly undignified giggle before she was able to move in the direction of her refrigerator to put away her boxes.
In the lift down the hall, George felt no shame as he practically danced around the descending iron box in joy. Despite the odd looks the balding man riding down with him was casting his direction; George's glee would not be contained. Phase one of Operation Woo Granger had been a success. Now on the phase two.
TBC
A/N: I would like to apologize for the highly infrequent updates. Shortly after my last update my mother called me to let me know she had just found out she needed surgery to remove some dangerous tumors on her kidneys. As I am sure you can understand my attention was required else where. It's been a trying and long summer and I apologize for neglecting this story. But now Mom is on the mend and I am able to focus on more none stressful things again so I'll be picking up the pace a little bit with the story. Stay turned, my dearies! And as always R&R!
~Chupip