Subject: Re: Re: Re: Do you believe in fate?

Dear Jane,

That's kind of you to ask about my bad day. My grocery store is having some financial problems and things are about to get worse, I think. Some days I wonder if it's even worth it to keep it running. I think I told you it had been my grandfather's? Sometimes it feels like there's so little good in my family, and this shop is the only thing that actually contributes good to our name.

Enough about that. I should be working, but instead I have been sitting at the computer, reloading my email in the hopes that you'd respond midday. Thank you for the burst of light in today's dreary mood. Let us go back to solving the world's problems.

Brightly yours,

Nick

Hermione closed the shop door behind her and breathed in the dusty, stale air. Malfoy's glare, already forgotten. Neville stood in the center of the room, looking around.

It had been a children's store about ten years ago. The owners had closed it down and moved at the first signs of the Dark Lord's return, and the shop had stood vacant ever since.

A slow, warm buzz of contentment sang through her veins. She stood in the entry, surveying her new kingdom. There were large storefront windows on either side of the doorway, a spacious room before her, and an open staircase leading up to a small second floor. The previous owners had used the upstairs for their offices, but Hermione had grander ideas.

"This is going to be lovely, Hermione," Neville said, poking his head into the upstairs.

She grinned and launched into her plans.

"So," she said, gesturing to the left where there were old, rotting countertops of the previous check out desk. "Here is where I'd like the pre-bottled potions, directly in the window. We'll have a large sign that reads, Brewed and Bottled by Horace Slughorn, Master Potioneer. I'd like it visible to the street, you know?"

Neville nodded, crossing his arms and following along.

"Over here," she said, moving to the right of the doorway, "in this smaller alcove, I was thinking about placing the pre-packaged potion kits."

"To really put in the windows the two things that will make us different — brewed potions and pre-packaged ingredients. I see," Neville said.

Hermione was so relieved that he understood. She walked further into the store and spread her hands to gesture to the far wall.

"I want the register here, so I can oversee everything. And to the right of it, I'd like the normal apothecary things. The cauldrons, the ingredients. But no minimum amounts. If you are in need of two beetle heads for something that is brewing at home, you can pop into Foxglove and Belladonna, grab just two instead of a whole pound, and run back home before the potion has turned."

Neville blushed. "Been there."

"And upstairs…" Hermione led Neville upstairs. There was a small room about half the size of the downstairs. "I'd like to think that one day Foxglove and Belladonna would need this much space, but for now, this is where I'd like to hold classes and workshops."

Neville agreed, walking over to the window to see the street below.

"Squibs will be invited once a month to learn potions and tinctures that don't rely on magic to create," Hermione said. "And in August, McGonagall has already agreed to encourage Muggle-born students to attend an introductory class here. I'm hoping to broach the idea with Horace today of monthly or quarterly workshops to teach the modern advancements in potion-making. And if you're still up for it, we can do a Herbology class too."

Neville twisted a loose thread on his jumper. "Well, don't count on many people interested in Herbology outside of school," he said sheepishly. "But if there's enough interest, then of course I'd like to do it."

Hermione smiled. She was confident she could get the numbers. She couldn't be the only person in the whole wizarding world that was interested in continuing their education!

"It's odd though," Neville said, peering out the window down onto the street. "Having Malfoy so close, isn't it?"

Hermione joined him at the window. Malfoy was no longer glaring at her from his doorway, but she could just see a blond head within the dark store.

She shrugged. "Not at all. It's fun, healthy competition. And if we accidentally put him out of business…." She let it hang in the air.

Neville laughed. "Don't say that. We'd hate to leave Luna without a job."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Right. Luna."

Luna Lovegood had started working at Black Apothecary last spring, for reasons Hermione couldn't possibly fathom. When Hermione had told her about Foxglove and Belladonna and offered her a position for the following year when it opened, Luna had smiled vacantly and said, "Oh, I like Black Apothecary, thank you."

Hermione had no idea why.

"I mentioned to her that we'd be over here today," Neville said shyly. "She might swing by. I hope that's alright."

"As long as she's not spying on the competition!" Hermione joked. Neville sent one glance at the empty and messy "competition" and winced.

They set to work, sending various cleaning spells all around the room. Neville took the upstairs and Hermione focused on polishing the downstairs windows. She conjured and placed on the sill a sign that read:

Foxglove and Belladonna

Much More Than an Apothecary

Coming Soon

She made sure it was perfectly visible from Black Apothecary. When she glanced to see if anyone was glaring at her from across the street, it was a different blonde head crossing the cobblestones.

"Luna is here," Hermione called up to Neville and swung the door open. "Welcome!"

"Hello, Hermione," Luna said with her usual soft smile. "Congratulations on the shop."

"Thank you. Please come in." Hermione looked past Luna, hoping they had an audience, but Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. "I can't imagine Malfoy is happy with you visiting though."

"Oh, perhaps," Luna said. "But of course he never has anything to say about how I spend my afternoon break."

Hermione tried to smile but it was possibly more of a grimace. "Of course."

Neville came downstairs, and she watched both Luna's face brighten and his cheeks grow pink. Hermione's brows lifted in realization. Oh…

"Good afternoon, Luna. Glad you stopped in."

"Hello, Neville," she said. "Welcome to the neighborhood."

Hermione felt like she should perhaps give them some space, but… there was nowhere to go really. She cleared her throat. "I'd give you a tour, but as you can see, there's nothing to tour yet."

"Oh, that's fine," she said. "When do you plan to open?"

"End of July, if possible. We're hoping everything can be sorted by then."

"I'm sure it will be. Please let me know if you're having a grand opening. We'd love to come."

Hermione blinked at her. "We… You mean you and your father?"

"Oh, I'm sure he'd be there too, but I meant the staff at Black Apothecary."

Eyes narrowing, Hermione said, "Well, I doubt your employer would come to wish us well, but you will, of course, be invited."

Luna smiled at the two of them, as if weighing her words. "He's not all that bad, you know. Draco. He had to do some kind of community service work with Muggles after his Azkaban sentence, and I think his attitudes have changed. He's always asking me questions about Muggle technology. I try my best to answer."

Hermione frowned, but Neville was the one to ask first. "Muggle technology? And Malfoy?" he said.

"Yes," Luna sighed. "He has a computer in the back room of the shop. He calls it his desks-top. It's charming."

Hermione's mind short-circuited for a moment. The thought of Malfoy sitting hunched over a computer, typing one letter at a time with only his index finger had broken her brain.

"Anyway, I better run," Luna said. "I'm so happy for you, Hermione!"

Luna sent them a cheerful wave, and then skipped back across the street.

Hermione was still stuck on "desks-top."

"Do you think he knows how to use it?" Neville asked, clearly still hung-up on the same thing she was. "Or does he just collect it like Arthur Weasley does?"

"Merlin, can you imagine Draco Malfoy online?" Hermione shivered. "He'd be such a troll."

Neville nodded as if he understood, and Hermione pried her attention away from the shop across the street.

They continued cleaning up as best they could, sending spells and charms to not only remove dust and cobwebs, but also locate the source of the rather unpleasant smell. Hermione checked her watch at five minutes to five and mentally prepared for Horace Slughorn's arrival. She needed him to sign paperwork today. The faster she could advertise his involvement, the faster Ginny could write it in as many papers as possible.

And if Hermione had any problems…

No, she promised herself. She wouldn't need to take up Ginny's offer to get Harry involved. Harry had enough on his plate, and he wasn't necessary.

When her watch ticked past five, she started to worry. She opened the front door, hoping to wave Slughorn in from the main street, but the sound of his belly laugh stopped her.

It was coming from the doorway of Black Apothecary. Hermione's throat tightened. She moved her hair over her shoulder and walked confidently across the cobblestones.

Slughorn was standing just inside the doorway with his back to her. Over his shoulder, Hermione could see Malfoy chatting with him, smiling. As his eyes slid past Slughorn to her, his smile melted away.

"Horace, how are you?" Hermione interrupted.

Slughorn turned around with a start. "Oh, Miss Granger! Yes, I was just stopping in to see how Mr. Malfoy is doing with his family's shop. You know, I bought my own ingredients here for Hogwarts. Many, many years ago!"

"Black Apothecary has been a part of many people's lives," said Malfoy's oily voice. "Thousands of loyal customers." He sent her a smirk.

Hermione bit back a remark about the kind of customers that have been loyal, and turned a bright smile on Slughorn.

"Lovely. Horace, shall we—?"

"Isn't it just wonderful," Slughorn said, "that two of my best students are working in potions? I must say, I take it as quite a compliment that two of my own are running apothecaries!"

"Granger, doesn't have an apothecary," Malfoy cut in. She sent him an icy glare. "She has 'much more than an apothecary.'" He rattled off the quote on the sign in her window.

She grinned, glad that he had seen it.

"Yes," she agreed. "Much more than an apothecary, because we have a Master Potioneer. Horace, shall we?"

Hermione got to watch the moment that Malfoy realized the reason Slughorn was in Diagon Alley today. The reason why Hermione could sell pre-bottled potions. The reason why she was so confident that her store was not only different, but could also possibly outpace him.

It was delicious.

"Yes, yes," Slughorn bumbled. "Mr. Malfoy. Good to see you. You know, Miss Granger," he said, stopping her. "You could learn quite a thing or two from Black Apothecary. Perhaps the two of you could sit down for lunch and discuss how to run a successful business!"

Hermione would rather eat glass. Malfoy, however, had obviously blown past the idea of spending any additional time with her and had settled his ego on the act of schooling her on how to run a successful business.

"Of course," Malfoy said with that superior tilt to his voice she'd heard so often at school. "Granger is welcome to pick my brain any time. She only needs to ask."

He smiled sweetly at her. Slughorn hummed something in agreement.

Hermione saw red. She took a deep breath and invited Slughorn to follow her.

She led him across the street while he babbled about how long the apothecary had been there and how Diagon Alley had grown around it.

"In many ways, I'd say that Diagon Alley wouldn't have been as important a wizarding location without the Black family…" Slughorn stopped when Hermione reached for the door handle of Foxglove and Belladonna. "Oh!" He turned back to Black Apothecary, as if counting the steps between the two. "My, this certainly is close."

"Is it?" she said cheerily. Hermione walked inside, holding the door for Slughorn. He hesitated before following her in.

"Professor Slughorn," Neville said, coming down the stairs. "It's good to see you, sir."

Slughorn took a moment to greet Neville, being sure to mention all of Neville's major accomplishments over the past five years and how it was entirely possible that his own tutelage was responsible for them.

"Well, this is quite the space!" Slughorn said, inspecting the windows and the stairwell. "It's a shame about the location."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well, to put two apothecaries so close to each other… It's not really good business, is it, Miss Granger?"

"Of course," she said, "but we aren't competing. Foxglove and Belladonna has services that Black Apothecary doesn't. And many of Black Apothecary's clientele would never set foot in an establishment owned by a Muggle-born."

Slughorn seemed taken aback at that. He looked like he was about to argue, but Hermione continued, "The Diagon Alley Historical Society and the Ministry had similar questions, but they were persuaded to grant the license. Especially when they heard we planned to work with such an accomplished Master Potioneer."

He preened at that. "Yes. I'm glad to help get you off the ground, so to speak!"

Hermione took the opportunity to change the course of the conversation.

"I'd love to show you around the space and then maybe chat about what our renovation schedule looks like. I know you'll be at Hogwarts through the end of June, and I'd hate to infringe upon well-deserved time off at the beginning of your retirement, but I'd love to open by the end of July."

Slughorn looked around the space. "Ah. Very ambitious. Very ambitious, indeed."

Hermione raised her chin with a small grin. "As I always have been." She winked at Neville.

"Of course," Slughorn mumbled. "I would think you would want Wolfsbane potion ready for the week before the full moon?" On Hermione's eager agreement, Slughorn nodded. "Once I've moved out of the Hogwarts dormitories, I'll get started on that in July. Not to say that you couldn't brew it yourself, Miss Granger. Only that it's very complex…"

Hermione's brows knit together. "Brew… brew it myself?" She couldn't understand why she would. Anything brewed by Hermione couldn't be sold at the store — not unless she was a Master Potioneer.

"Yes," Slughorn said slowly. "I'd thought we'd split the workload." When she only blinked at him, he said, "You did finish your training program, did you not?"

"I—I actually have a bit more to go. I was hoping…" She started again. "Apologies, sir. I was under the impression you would be doing all of the brewing."

Slughorn's eyes widened in understanding. "Ah. Until you finish your license?"

Hermione's lips pulled into a tight circle, trying to form words. She glanced at Neville, who was also panicking.

"I was hoping you would be the only Master Potioneer on staff, Horace," Hermione said. "I am very sorry if that wasn't communicated well."

She felt her pulse spiking.

"I see," Slugorn said. He rubbed his brow, thinking. "Maybe I did say that I was eager to keep busy after retirement. But I had only assumed I would be getting your shop off the ground."

Hermione's mind worked fast. She could work with that. She couldn't very well demand that a man so close to retirement keep working, especially at the sum she had offered to pay him.

"I apologize for the miscommunication," she said. "I do think that could still work."

She did math quickly. She was three-quarters of the way done with the Master Potioneer license program. She had stopped once Slughorn had expressed interest — interest, she now knew, in getting her off the ground. At the speedy rate she had been studying and scheduling her examinations, Hermione could have finished the program in just six more months. So she just needed Slughorn to brew through the end of the year maybe.

Never mind that when Hermione had been studying and testing at double speed, she didn't have a shop to run. She could figure that out, surely. There was no other option. Master Potioneers weren't a dime a dozen. They were all employed already. She had checked.

She glanced at Neville, who had been quiet but had practically unraveled the bottom of his jumper in anxiety.

"I am very close to finishing my program. Just a few more months. Neville and I would appreciate it so much if you could indeed get us on our feet, Horace. Can we talk about the possibility of helping us through the end of the year?"

Slughorn took a heavy breath, fraught with indecision. "It's quite a commitment. I was under the assumption I'd help you get through the busy season in August, when Hogwarts students would be coming in for potions to take with them to school."

It was 25 June. Hermione couldn't possibly finish her program by the end of August.

"Maybe October?" Her voice squeaked. It still wasn't enough.

Slughorn hesitated again. Hermione felt faint. Her business was going to fail. She couldn't very well promise that she was different from Black Apothecary if she couldn't offer anything different.

A sharp laugh burst from her. "Forgive me, Horace. Why don't we discuss this at the Leaky. I'm sure it would be more comfortable." She barely hesitated. "Harry was going to meet me there at around half-five, and I'm sure he'd love to see you."

Slughorn's eyes lit up. She told Neville to show Slughorn the upstairs and then sent a hasty Patronus to Ginny, begging her to get Harry to the Leaky as soon as possible.

Twenty minutes and a round of Butterbeers later, the Boy Who Lived walked into the Leaky Cauldron.. Ginny walked in behind him, and the panicked look in Hermione's eyes sent Ginny to her side.

"Another round for anyone?" Ginny asked, not waiting for an answer and taking Hermione directly to the bar. "What's wrong?"

Hermione explained the mix up. She told Ginny she needed Slughorn through the end of the year, but she'd accept October if she had to. Ginny grabbed the two drinks for herself and Harry, said, "I'm on it," and darted back to the table. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to figure out how this all had gone so terribly wrong.

When she returned to the table, Ginny changed the topic. "Professor, I'm so glad to hear you'll be helping Hermione and Neville. Harry and I can't wait to come by the shop."

"Yes, yes," Slughorn said, eyes wide with possibilities. "Miss Granger and I were just discussing the arrangement."

"I'm planning on writing several pieces about the new shop over the next six months," Ginny said. "I'd love to interview you about your importance to this project. And just how involved you were in Hermione's potions education."

Hermione's jaw clenched. It was an excellent angle. It was just nonsense.

Ginny's elbow found its way into Harry's ribs, and Harry, coughing, added, "Yes. I think we all know what a profound impact Horace Slughorn has on his students. Ginny has asked me for a quote in that piece as well."

Slughorn looked like he might cry. Hermione almost felt bad. But it wasn't as if they were tricking him. If Ginny said she'd write an article, she would write an article.

"That sounds absolutely lovely, Miss Weasley," he said softly.

"I was thinking we'd put that story together near the holidays. You'll still be with the shop then, yes? You'll be brewing from home, I think."

"Holidays… are a great time," Harry agreed lamely. He didn't know what his girlfriend was up to but he knew he had to participate in it.

Slughorn sighed. "I suppose… I might work half-time through December," he conceded, looking at Hermione for confirmation.

She cleared her throat. "Horace, that would be wonderful. Do you think I could maybe keep you full-time through October? Just until I'm done with my license program?" That would give her four months to do six months of work. Technically, it was a year's worth of work that she had already compressed into six months, but she wouldn't think about that now. Or the amount of study time she would lose renovating, opening, and running a store.

Slughorn heaved another sigh.

"October… is also a great time," Harry tried, lamely.

"Indeed it is, Harry," Slughorn said thoughtfully. "Indeed it is. Alright, Miss Granger. Through the end of October it is."

Hermione smiled through her panic attack, shook Slughorn's hand, and promised a contract delivered to him by the end of the week.

Hermione finished the rest of her Butterbeer, determined to pick up her studies that very evening.

Subject: I feel like a failure some days

Dear Nick,

Today was supposed to be a good day. You remember my emails from lunch time. I was having a splendid day. I know I don't tell you much about my job for privacy reasons, but I feel like I can trust you to let you know that I also run a shop. I'll be vague and say it's a clothing retail store.

I just found out I'll be making all the clothes myself. My wholesaler is cutting out in October. I wish I could find another wholesaler, but I have a very specific product. Maybe none of this makes sense.

But I needed to close a deal tonight, and I had to ask a friend to do it for me. Just because he's better liked.

So anyway, some days I feel like a failure. I wonder if you'd ever felt the same.

Despondently yours,

Jane

Subject: Re: I feel like a failure some days

Dear Jane,

I feel like a failure most days, not just some. So you're not alone. (You also don't win at this, I'd like to point out. I have you beat with my "most" and your "some.")

I am astounded that we have been emailing for a year and you are just now telling me that you run a shop. Perhaps I didn't ask. I have a habit of making things about myself. It's truly a winning trait. I don't know that I can offer any assistance for clothing retail, but I do understand a bit about wholesalers. What you're going through is truly a shame. I could never be counted on to garden my own groceries for the store, so I know what kind of panic this could cause.

I suppose I would ask you:

Have you truly considered every other wholesaler? Even ones you think won't work with you or won't carry your products?

Could you pivot in any way that still meets your hopes and dreams?

Can you get any help in making your own clothes? Hire new people? I don't know…

I don't want to try to solve your problems for you. I hear women love that though.

But you're not alone in feeling like a failure. You know I've had a terrible day. My grocery store has some competition now, and I'm afraid we won't survive it. We'll see by the end of the year.

Unhelpfully yours,

Nick

P.S. Now I'll have to search every bespoke clothing store in London that I come across, asking if the beautiful girl behind the counter believes in fate.

P.P.S. Another piece of unsolicited advice — Are there any other clothing stores that do anything close to what you do? Perhaps you could figure out what they are doing right and try to copy it.

Hermione leaned her head on one hand and stared at her computer screen. She'd taken a break from her studying and emailed Nick.

Could you pivot in any way that still meets your hopes and dreams?

She considered the suggestion. She could still have an apothecary. Just one that wouldn't sell bottled potions until the new year. She could cut Horace loose, focus on her license, and only begin selling pre-bottled potions once she was ready.

That meant she wouldn't be "much more than an apothecary."

That wounded her ego a bit.

Slughorn's words from earlier buzzed around her head — You could learn quite a thing or two from Black Apothecary.

She could take Nick's advice and see what Black Apothecary was doing that had kept them in business for three hundred years. Not to copy them, of course, but to get an idea of how to keep the store open through the conclusion of her training program.

But she couldn't just walk into Malfoy's shop and start poking around…

Hermione tapped her chin. She wondered how much Polyjuice Potion she had in her stores.