Subject: Business advice
Dear Jane,
Perhaps the strangest thing I've asked you, Jane, but have you ever dealt with harassment from a larger clothing store? The supermarket moving in nearby is starting to tackle their competition — me — and I guess I just wondered if you think there's some kind of proper way to deal with it.
Strangely yours,
Nick
Subject: Re: Business advice
Dear Nick,
Normally, I would say that the high road is always preferable, because you will feel better about yourself at the end of the day.
But I think you said this is your family's store. Your livelihood. You have to fight for it. There's nothing wrong with playing dirty, I say. Especially if they started it.
Ruthlessly yours,
Jane
Subject: Re: re: Business advice
Dear Jane,
I think I like this side of you.
Adoringly yours,
Nick
Subject: Re: re: re: Business advice
Dear Nick,
All's fair in war and business, I say. Now I will be walking London, looking for new supermarkets and seeking out the handsome grocers who are struggling to keep their small shop open around the corner.
Fairly yours,
Jane
Subject: Re: re: re: re: Business advice
War and Business? I like it.
Do you think we should meet?
Hermione lifted her hands off the mouse and keyboard as if they could burn her. "Meet?" she whispered aloud.
He hadn't even signed it with his usual signature, and she wondered if it was a mistake. Or if he had hit send before he'd meant to.
She clicked out of the email. As if he could see her if the window was open. She powered down the computer, and went for a walk.
She'd thought about it, of course. Especially at her loneliest. She'd wondered why she couldn't have a real conversation with Nick one day, looking into his eyes. If she couldn't maybe hold his hand.
The warm summer air brushed over her skin as she walked down her street. She would hardly be the first witch who had to introduce a Muggle to her world. So it wasn't that. Maybe it was the entirely fabricated life she had created for "Jane" — that would be harder to explain.
By the time she reached the Apparition point in her neighborhood, Hermione thought she'd maybe put her finger on it. What she had with Nick right now was perfect. She could imagine that he was terribly attractive with wonderful breath. He could think the same of her, instead of possibly being let down.
Hermione Apparated into Diagon Alley, deciding to extend her walk to go check on the progress inside the shop. She felt agitated in her skin. Her strides were long and purposeful, and she just needed to keep moving.
She turned the corner onto Horizont Alley and smacked into another person.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She steadied herself and looked up to find Draco Malfoy's chest in front of her.
"Sorry, Granger," he said absently, shifting around her. He didn't meet her eyes. He didn't try to spar with her.
Hermione watched him walk in the direction she came from, hands in his pockets, head down. He didn't seem to be headed anywhere in particular, but it was as if he needed a walk to clear his head as well.
Perhaps something wasn't going right at his shop? Had he just received bad news?
With the panic of replying to Nick jarred out of her head — quite literally — Hermione set out to look for information.
She opened the door to Black Apothecary, and found Luna tending to the potted plants.
"Hello, Hermione. Nice of you to stop by."
"Hi, Luna," she said, looking around, hoping to find an eviction notice or an overdue bill. "I just bumped into Malfoy. Is everything alright?"
"Hm. Perhaps not. He came out of the back room a few moments ago, saying he needed a walk." Luna turned to her. "His Wrackspurts followed him out the door."
"Ah," Hermione said, as if she understood. "All good here? The finances are fine?"
Luna tilted her head at her with a pleasant smile. "I'm doing well, but I don't know if I can talk finances with you, Hermione. You understand."
"Of course, of course. Well, I just wanted to stop in. And Luna, if Black Apothecary has to close — for any reason — know that you have a position with me."
Luna nodded at her, and went back to the plants. Just before Hermione left, Luna said, "I have to admit, I was a bit surprised to read the paper today."
Hermione paused, unsure how to respond.
Ginny had written a small column about Foxglove and Belladonna, quoting Hermione, "The new store will provide a safe space for those who have not felt safe in the Diagon Alley district in the past. For those of you who may have even been denied entry to certain storefronts — we see you. We are here for you, specifically."
Luna looked up at her with a pleasant smile. "I get it, I do. It's business, not personal. But all the time I've worked here, we've never turned away a customer based on their blood status." She shrugged. "Things are different than how you describe it."
Hermione pressed her lips together. "I'm sure it is. I just… like you said, it's business. People have felt unsafe in this store in the past. I'm making it clear what we're about across the street."
Luna nodded. "Sure."
Hermione left with a heavy feeling in her stomach. She didn't regret what she'd said in the paper. Ginny had actually suggested she push harder, be more direct. Hermione had argued that they should wait and see if Malfoy retaliated.
She went across the street, where Foxglove and Belladonna was almost ready for the Grand Opening the next day. They would have a full day of sales (hopefully) followed by a small soirée in the evening. Horace had delivered his first bottles of pre-mixed potions yesterday, and they still needed the store sticker affixed to the side of the bottles. She had planned to come in later, but Nick's email had sent her running out of the house.
She still wasn't sure what to do about that. She'd have to respond at some point, but what to say?
When Neville joined her late that afternoon, he was surprised to see that she'd done all the work they'd meant to do together.
"Sorry," she said. "I just needed a distraction."
"Nervous about the opening?" he guessed.
"That and other things," she said, placing the last of the bottles on the shelf. In her haste to take a walk this morning, she'd lost the hour of studying for her potion license that she'd planned.
"So, I don't suppose you saw the evening Prophet?" Neville winced.
Hermione snapped her head to him. "What is it?"
Neville hesitated before pulling the Prophet out of his coat. Hermione tore it from his fingertips and turned pages until she found what she was looking for on a small corner of page five.
Granger Underqualified; Foxglove Not Ready
by Rita Skeeter
Hermione Granger, who is known for her small contributions to the Battle of Hogwarts, is in over her head, according to a source close to the new business owner.
"She had grand ideas that can't possibly be realized," the source said to this reporter. "Foxglove and Belladonna cannot do all she wants it to, and she's lying to the public about her promising business plan. The shop isn't ready either."
With Foxglove and Belladonna's grand opening tomorrow evening, the public will see just how far from ready Granger is for the doors to open.
The pages trembled in Hermione's fingertips, her arms shaking with rage. "This is Malfoy, I know it is."
"Probably," Neville said.
"Definitely." Hermione crumpled the paper into a tight ball and tossed it on the floor. Neville looked as if he was about to ask for it back, but decided the better of it. "'A source close to the new business owner.'" Hermione scoffed. "Skeeter has had it out for me for years, but this won't stand."
Hermione sent a Patronus to Ginny, asking for a last-minute addition to the article that would be in tomorrow's Prophet.
Foxglove and Belladonna, Much More Than an Apothecary
by Ginny Weasley
Many know Hermione Granger as the war heroine who placed herself in harm's way to help defeat the Dark Lord. Now you can know her as your local apothecary.
"I wanted to open a store where all are welcome. There are too many storefronts that still prioritize pure-blood, old money in the wizarding world. In fact, there are too many on Horiztont Alley…"
Hermione smiled down at the paper. Shots fired, as they say. She sipped her coffee and perused the rest of Ginny's article, inviting everyone to visit the shop at their earliest convenience.
At precisely ten a.m. that morning, Foxglove and Belladonna would open to the public, and eight hours later at closing, she would be celebrating with her closest friends. She'd told Harry she didn't want anything too grand, but he and Ginny hadn't minded throwing something together.
Hermione finished her breakfast and headed into Diagon Alley. She didn't need to look over at Black Apothecary to know a blond head was scowling at her as she bounced past. She took quite a bit of delight in not acknowledging him at all.
But when she approached her storefront, her feet stopped in surprise to see a queue!
There were six people outside! Some of them were holding a copy of that morning's Prophet. Hopefully the opening time had been printed right? Hermione smiled at them.
"Hello, everyone," she said. "We will be opening in thirty minutes."
They nodded at her.
Hermione felt her chest expand as the lock opened with a click. These people were truly in line half an hour early for her store opening. Even before she could close the door behind her, a seventh person joined the queue.
She jumped into her opening tasks, eagerly awaiting Neville's help when he arrived. Her fingers weren't working properly, she was so nervous. She set out the signage and magicked a chalkboard to draw up that day's date and the special discount on Bubotuber pus.
When Neville opened the door at quarter till, he said, "Hermione, what's going on?" He jumped inside the shop and peeked through the windows at the queue. "There's twenty people outside!"
"Twenty!" Her eyes widened. "You're joking." She ran to the window, and sure enough, the queue went down the block.
Glancing over at Black Apothecary, she noticed that Malfoy was missing from his perch in the doorway. He was probably inside, seething, Hermione thought with a smile.
Hermione opened the doors two minutes early, and greeted every customer with a handshake. Several of them asked for her autograph. Within the first half hour, Neville had rung up four customers, and Hermione had talked several people into purchasing potion kits.
Around half-past eleven, while Neville was busy dealing with a bug that wouldn't leave him be, Hermione noticed a woman in her late thirties still in the shop. She had been one of the first twenty in line. She'd taken no items off the shelf and seemed to be hovering around Slughorn's pre-made potions and the potion-making kits. Hermione approached her when she was done with a sweet older witch.
"Hello, there," she said brightly. "Can I help you with something?"
The woman's eyes widened when they landed on her, but she quickly looked away and cleared her throat. "Good morning. I was just wondering… Well…"
She held the newspaper in his hands, almost like a lifeline. Hermione saw it was folded open to the second page, and her eyes caught on Ginny's words, a friendly place for Muggle-borns and Squibs.
Hermione glanced up at her. "Can I interest you in the Lavender Balm potion kit? It clears most headaches and prevents them for weeks to come, but what I like most about it is that I don't need magic for it at all! No wand necessary."
The woman nodded and blinked away moisture in her eyes.
Continuing, Hermione said, "I also like every potion kit on this wall." She motioned to the six kits she'd grouped together. "They can all be done without magic."
The woman seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and Hermione excused herself so she could have some privacy. She decided then that maybe that wall needed a small sign that read, Magic-Free. She had been hesitant to post it before, because it would be a clear signal to the entire shop that the browser was a Squib, but just that small interaction strengthened her resolve. Most Squibs would have had no reason to set foot in an apothecary before. How would they know where to start?
Hermione checked out the woman herself, slipping her business card into the bag and telling her that she was just a Floo call away for any of her other needs.
The woman brushed a tear out of her eyes and quickly scurried out of the shop.
It was almost noon and they were half-sold already. She had tomorrow's stock to put out, of course, but it was good for some shoppers to see that they had already been quite busy, especially as the customer numbers dwindled.
Neville beamed at her. "Well, how does it feel? To be a smashing success?"
"I wouldn't go that far," she said, eyeing the Black Apothecary door. It hadn't swung open in over an hour. She'd been checking. "We still have the afternoon."
But the afternoon was only slightly less busy than the morning. Slughorn stopped by around three to see how everything was going, and he was shocked to find out that half of his potions were gone already.
"My, my, Miss Granger," he said, mouth hanging slightly open. "I had no idea this kind of thing would be so popular. I suppose I'll bring in more stock tomorrow morning!"
He was also quite impressed to see a label on every bottle — Proudly Brewed by Horace Slughorn, Master Potioneer. The sticker even had a silhouette of his profile on it.
"And how far along are you in your studies?" he asked her. "Halfway through your fourth year?"
"Yes," Hermione lied. "I only have a few more months to go." That part might be true, if she buckled down and really focused over the next four months. She'd been so busy with the store renovations and marketing that she'd fallen a bit behind in the program, but she still felt confident she could do it by October when Horace moved to part-time.
Harry, Ginny, Ron, and George dropped by at five, and spent the last hour of the day browsing and shopping. George interrogated Neville on the potency of several herbs he was planning to use in a few of the joke shop candies, and Neville eagerly shared all his knowledge before realizing it would be used for pranks.
"Thanks, Nev," George said with a wink. "I'll take a few bags of those."
Neville pressed his lips together and rang him up.
Ron thought the potions kits were the best thing in the world ("It's like you're doing my homework for me all over again, Hermione!"), and Ginny was happy to find new skin-clearing potions to try. Harry got caught up talking with Slughorn, and didn't get to browse at all. He gave Hermione a bashful shrug.
Several other friends came by in the last hour, and at closing, Luna came across the street. When Hermione flipped the sign to Closed, See You Tomorrow, the group cheered and popped a bottle of champagne. Hermione gave a toast, Harry gave a toast, Slughorn gave a toast, and eventually everyone was quite sloshed. Hermione had stopped thinking of Malfoy altogether.
That was… until the evening Prophet arrived.
An owl pecked at the window at half-past six, just as the group had decided on going to the Leaky to keep the night going. Neville unlatched the window, and the bird made a large circuit before dropping the paper at Hermione's feet. She was hoping for coverage on the opening day by one of the other reporters on staff, but knew not to be greedy after Ginny's expertly crafted article that morning.
What she found was dramatically different. Hermione's face fell as she unfolded the paper.
Should We Sell Potions to Squibs?
an opinion piece
by Rita Skeeter
One raised in the magical world could not possibly imagine the life of a Squib. I, myself, would be horrified to have to live life on the outside, looking in. But aren't there many noble positions a Squib can take in life? Think of Argus Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker.
When asked today, Filch said, "Of course it was difficult growing up. That's kind of you to ask, Miss. But I love my role. Oh, and I do love your hair today. It's quite fetching."
Hermione puffed a laugh. Clearly, Rita's Quick Quotes Quill was working overtime. There was no world in which Filch said anything of the sort. But it was the next part that had her fuming.
So why would someone tease a Squib with a small window into the world of magic that they've been denied by genetics? Well, a Muggle-born who fancies herself an activist. That's who.
Hermione Granger's new store Foxglove and Belladonna claims to be "much more than an apothecary," but the truth is much more dangerous. She is selling potion ingredients to Squibs, with a pat on the back and a "good luck!"
When I asked a local apothecary owner what they thought of this method, the anonymous salesman agreed that, "It has the potential to be disastrous."
I would hope Miss Granger knows what kind of can of worms she is opening.
Hermione threw the paper on the floor, marched over it to the front door, and jerked it open. Her friends called after her, asking what the issue was, but Hermione's focus was on Draco Malfoy, closing up his shop.
"What the hell, Malfoy!" she bellowed.
He spun around to her, just in time to be shoved back into his closed shop door. Her hands had acted of their own accord and given him a push.
"Merlin, Granger!" He rubbed his shoulder. "Bad opening day?"
"You know it wasn't. You watched hundreds of people come in and out while not a one visited your shop. And so you called up Skeeter." Her eyes narrowed at him, remembering the Squib from that day. "Were you in the shop today? Did you Polyjuice yourself?"
"Ah, I believe that's your trick," he said, tapping her nose with a finger before turning to walk away.
She brushed her face and hurried after him, ignoring the crowd of her friends standing in the doorway.
"So, how did Skeeter know about the Squib?"
"What Squib?"
"Damn it, Malfoy!" She grabbed his shoulder and turned him back to her. "Stop playing innocent!"
"The head of the D.M.L.E is watching," he said, gingerly brushing his collar. "Best friend of yours or not, I could file a complaint for manhandling me—"
"Oh, I beg you," she seethed. "I'll give you something to file a complaint about—"
"Don't tease me, Granger. I do love foreplay."
"You're despicable," she spat. "You can't accept some healthy competition, so you go out and get Skeeter to write up a piece? On my opening day?"
"First of all," he said, shifting to lean against the doorway to the neighbor's shop. "I didn't contact her, I just gave a comment. And to be honest, she took it out of context. I meant to say it's 'dangerous' for the Diagon Alley community to have competing storefronts, and so on. Nothing about Squibs in particular. You've caught her ire over the years all on your own."
Hermione huffed, almost growling, but Malfoy continued.
"Second of all, I didn't start this, Granger. You threw dirt at me first with today's paper, talking about Horizont Alley specifically."
"You were quoted yesterday as well, if I remember," she said. She placed her hands on her hips. "So all's fair in war and business."
His face scrunched up. "Why is everyone saying that? What kind of Muggle phrase is that?"
She scoffed. "Why must it be a Muggle phrase?"
"Because I've heard another Muggle use it recently."
"Oh please, like you have any Muggle friends."
He tilted his head. "I do, actually. She's—"
"A court-ordered acquaintance?" Hermione cut in, remembering Luna saying that he had done community service work with Muggles for his parole. She watched his muscles still. "That's not a real friend, Malfoy. I doubt you have any friends anymore. When's the last time Nott or Goyle came by the shop? Or the last time you were pictured with Parkinson? Out on the town with Zabini?" She stepped into him. "You never had a real friend in your life, Malfoy. And let me speak for that Muggle that the Wizengamot forced on you — you're not anything special to them, either."
His face seemed to be frozen in shock. When he recovered, he looked away from her, cleared his throat, and said, "Happy opening day, Granger. Best of luck."
When he turned this time, she let him walk away, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.
She'd done it. She'd silenced Malfoy. She couldn't believe how easily he'd given up, but she was glad to feel like she'd one-upped him!
Hermione returned to her party and merrily told her friends how Malfoy must be struggling if he found the need to ask Rita Skeeter to take her down. As they all laughed and sipped champagne, she ignored Luna's inquisitive gaze.
Later that evening, tipsy on good friends, business success, and a solidly landed punch to Malfoy's ego, Hermione opened her email.
It had been two days since Nick had asked to meet.
It had been two days of her silence.
She hit Reply.
Subject: Re: re: re: re: re: Business advice
Dear Nick,
It's been a very busy few days. I'm sorry I didn't respond.
I think we should meet, yes. Name the time and place.
Eagerly yours,
Jane
.
.
A/N: I'm going to preemptively tell you that, yes, I know that Hermione is not very likable. It will be about "Growth." But if you dislike it enough to discontinue, I understand.