Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

"One more move and there's no looking back

I won't pull away now, forever by the wayside"

Anna Nalick - Car Crash

Flourish and Blotts was in a turmoil at this time of the year. The young wizards and witches who were about to begin their schooling at Hogwarts were excited to have their books – but Hermione was sure that they were more excited about the fact to buy new things, not to use them in a near future – and to meet their future classmates.

With a smile, Hermione Granger gave a copy of Magical Drafts and Potions to the little blonde girl who were staring at her with wide eyes.

"Here you go. Do you need anything else?"

"N–no, Miss Granger. T–thank you," she stammered, her book close to her chest, before turning around.

Hermione pursed her lips in amusement; it wasn't the first time she met someone intimidated by her. The War had reached its end ten years prior, but the memory of this dark period of the Wizarding World was still vivid in people's mind. These children had grown with the memory of this War, they had heard so many things about Voldemort, and, of course, the man who had defeated him, Harry Potter. But Harry wasn't the only one to be famous; Hermione was usually named, along with every member of the Order of the Phoenix. It was nice to know that her contribution to the War hadn't been forgotten, but sometimes, she just wanted to be like every other person. Unfortunately, that was easier to say than to be, but she was happy to notice that the fuss about the "Golden Trio" had calmed down with time passing by. Now, she just had to deal with shy smiles and some congratulation from time to time.

Working at Flourish and Blotts was something new to Hermione. She had had to discover a new way to deal with things, totally different than teaching at Hogwarts. Here, no one expected from her to give her opinion about books, to recommend one instead another. They just wanted her to do her job, which was to sell as much as possible. Her boss, a middle-age and haughty man, had warned her several times during the last week about her attitude, but she couldn't help but doing what she believed a real bookseller would do: help the customers to find the book that they would cherish during months and months.

It was almost five o'clock, but the bookshop was still full of people, students or not. Diagon Alley was crowded, and Hermione was tired by her day. Fortunately, a glance at her watch elicited a sigh of relief from the young woman; she would soon be able to come back home.

"Granger, come here."

The annoying and high-pitched voice of her boss shook her out of her torpor, and Hermione made her way toward the dozen of students who where staring at the last best-seller of Rita Skeeter, based upon the rise and fall of the Ministers of Magic. When she eventually joined Rufus Tertington, he whipped his thin glasses from his nose, a sinister look over his face. He was with another man, younger than him and with a smile that denoted with her baleful superior.

"Granger, let me introduce you Daniel Gathy. Since you seem to be incapable of working like I want you to work, I hired him to help you," he explained with a smirk.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, not expecting something like this. She couldn't turn her attention on Daniel Gathy, since she was eager to know more about this sudden decision.

"I beg your pardon? I am here since a week, and I thought–"

"Obviously, you thought wrong," Mr. Tertington cut her off. "We are not at Hogwarts here, Granger, and, for your information, no one cares about your opinion about books here. You need to learn how to sell books, we are not in a library. I expect to see you tomorrow morning at eight. Have a pleasant night," he almost purred, his bald face close to hers before turning around and heading to his office behind the cash register.

Hermione stayed still, staring at Rufus Tertington while he disappeared behind heavy door of his office. She then started to shook her head slightly, as if she couldn't believe what had just happened. She didn't even hear the little noise that Daniel Gathy made with his throat to catch her attention; he needed to wave his hand in front of her face to do so.

"Earth to Moon, are you receiving me?," he asked with a grin, showing his white teeth to the whole world.

Hermione eventually focused her attention on him, and noted how tall he was. Ron was tall, but Daniel was even taller, if it was possible. His dark hair looked like Harry's unstructured one, and his brown eyes were made of the brightest shade that Hermione had ever had the occasion to see.

"Yes...," she muttered, disturbed by his appearance. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. Hermione Granger," she introduced herself with her hand out.

"Daniel Gathy," he said while shaking her hand. "I am the one who should be sorry. I didn't want to meet you in such circumstances."

"It's not your fault. To be honest, I prefer to know that you are the one who is going to help me instead of Mr. Tertington."

"Good point. I had to deal with him two years ago, and I admit that it was awful. With some luck, I'll be better than him when it comes to help you to learn his selling tricks".

She smiled back at him, happy to know that she wasn't the only one who didn't like her superior.

"No luck needed here. I am sure that you will be better than him, it's not really hard to be honest."

"You'll have to learn more about me before saying something like this. Maybe we could have a drink together? It seems to me that your day is almost over."

All of a sudden, right before Hermione had the time to retort something, a babel of noises came from the entrance of the bookshop, and Hermione turned her attention to the dozen of customers who headed to it. With a frown, she followed them to see what was happening, and she could eventually hear some whispers along the way.

"It's him..."

"No. Way."

"I'm sure that I recognised his scar...," a young woman muttered, her daughter's into her arms.

And she was right. Hermione had to work her way into the crowd, and almost a minute later, she was next to Harry. James was in his arms, and he was smiling at the teenagers who were handing him their books to have an autograph.

"I'm sorry, but I definitely cannot do it with my son in my arms...," he apologised softly, not realising that Hermione was just a few feet from him.

"What are you doing here?," she asked, and Harry quickly turned around to see the owner of this pleasant voice.

"Hello to you too," he retorted with a smile, trying to set aside the fact that a bunch of people was looking at them.

"It's not safe for you to be here with James on top of that."

"Then you should have answered to my numerous phone calls," Harry explained.

"I was... busy."

"And you are now?," he cocked his head to one side.

Hermione looked at Daniel, chewing her lower lip at the same time. He nodded with a smile before disappearing behind the cash register, giving her the authorisation that she was seeking for without even realising it.

"I am not," she muttered, doing her best to look at James and not his father.

"Can we go to a quiet place then?," he asked, hope in his voice.

James started to moan, visibly not happy to be here, surrounded by a lot of people, and Hermione gave up.

"Alright, let's go to my place."

XxX

"Why did you hesitate?," Harry's voice came from the sitting room right after he closed the door of Hermione's bedroom. James was currently sleeping in her bed, visibly tired by his day.

In the kitchen, Hermione stopped her movement for a fraction of second, before resuming what she was doing. The two cup of tea full, she brought them into the living room.

"I'm sorry?," she asked while handing him one of the cups.

"When we were at Flourish and Blotts. You hesitated before accepting my invitation."

She sat in the armchair and shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Who is he?," Harry asked, and he was almost surprised by the serious tone that he took to ask her this question.

"I've just met him," Hermione dismissed with a wave of hand. "We are going to work together, that's all."

"He's handsome," the green-eyed wizard insisted.

"I've just met him," Hermione repeated with a sigh before looking at the door of her bedroom where James was asleep. "He seems tired."

"He didn't sleep well last night. And the night before. And the night before again," Harry explained, his jaw clenched.

"His nightmares again?"

Her best friend nodded. "Ginny called a week ago, right after... You know. She wanted to talk to James, and here's the result. I should have said no."

"I guess that it's difficult to say to the mother of your child that she can't talk to him," Hermione tried to comfort him. "You weren't supposed to know that this would happen."

"Like I wasn't supposed to know that you would do your best to avoid me after what happened between us next week?," Harry let out in a laugh, an almost cynical smile over his face.

Hermione looked down at her cup of tea. She knew that that was exactly what she had done during the last few days; avoiding him. She had disconnected her phone, and had returned the two letters that Harry had sent. What could she possibly say to him? That she was terribly ashamed by what they had done? That she couldn't stare at her reflection in the mirror because it reminded her how awful to her friend she had been?

"It was a mistake," she muttered, still not daring to look at Harry's green eyes.

"It's not a mistake if we both enjoyed it," Harry swiftly retorted, and this unexpected answer was enough to make Hermione look up at him.

"It's not a reason for you to say something like that," she said, frowning. "It was... disrespectful and... wrong on so many levels. You a–"

"You didn't deny that you enjoyed it," Harry interrupted her, doing his best to hide a smile of triumph.

"Wh... You... Did you say this to make me admit that I liked it?," Hermione stammered, a horrified expression over her face.

"I'm just saying that it's not a viable option for both of us to act like anything happened, or worse, to be horrified by what we did. Even if we were quite drunk, I don't regret it. You needed me that night, and... well, maybe that I needed you too. Maybe that I still need you."

For the first time in the last fourteen years, Hermione saw something different in the bottom of Harry's eyes. What she had always seen in these green and vivid eyes was friendship, pride, and sometime admiration. But never, oh never, had she seen this mixture of sentiments in Harry's eyes. It couldn't be described as love, or lust, or even attraction. It was different; he seemed to care for her, at another level than friendship, to truly care for her.

And despite the fact that she knew that what she was about to say was forbidden, she didn't think twice before opening her mouth and let the words escaped it.

"I'm not horrified by what we did. Well, I am, in a way, but I'm horrified because I liked it, Harry. And I shouldn't have liked it since, as far as I know, you are married," she explained with a delusional smile. "I don't want you to pity me, or something. I really don't."

"I don't pity you."

"Come on, Harry. We both know that you kissed me because I said these things about how unattractive I think I am. You care for me, and I appreciate that, I truly do, but don't make me believe that there is something between us when it is obviously not the case."

She bit her lower lip, not wanting to be overwhelmed by her feelings at this exact moment. Harry looked down at his hands around his cup of tea, disturbed by what the young woman had just said.

A silence settled between them, and after long minutes, Hermione started to drink her tea.

"You should drink it, it will be cold otherwise," she muttered.

"Why are you so stubborn, Hermione?" Harry asked in a calm voice, before mechanically bringing his cup of tea to his mouth and drinking the still hot beverage.

"I am not," Hermione retorted.

"You are since you obviously want to forget the most important part of what I've just said."

"Which is?," the brunette asked before putting her cup of tea back onto the coffee table.

Harry did the same, and after a few seconds of reflection, he eventually said it again.

"I need you."

Thank you for your always cheerful reviews and for following this story. Life is still a rollercoaster, I've got the feeling that I'm living in a drama sometimes, but oh well... The good part is that I always get back on my feet, right?

See you soon.