Chapter 21: Secrets With a Friend

The sun was hidden behind the rooftops of the other businesses, and Hermione felt like stale bread, still in the clothes she wore the day before. Her hair was unbrushed, her mouth felt dry, and her bones ached as she landed in front of Maggie Tailoring. Waking up in Lucius' spare bedroom for the second time felt strange. Her heart felt hollow as she wiped crusts from the corners of her eyes that morning. The night didn't bother to cater to her, leaving her with only three hours of sleep.

The events of the night before still lingered heavily in her mind like a thick fog that couldn't dissipate. As she lay awake early that morning, her mind bounced like a pinball from one memory to the other. The list of possible names who could have known about her and Lucius dwindled further down, to almost nothing and no one as she continued to check imaginary boxes. It couldn't be Maggie—that she knew for sure. She couldn't narrow her thoughts toward Mrs. Humphrey because too many factors were missing. Unless she somehow saw the two of them together, there was no way Mrs. Humphrey was the one who told Narcissa or the Death Eaters.

The only other name she could think of was Ron, and it was a scenario she hated to entertain. His name was at the bottom of her list. The only thing he knew about them was that she had feelings for Lucius, something she admitted without consent during the horrible effects of a truth-telling potion he secretly had her drink during their time at the Witching Hour. While he was furious with her that night, she didn't believe he would do something so heinous just to hurt her. After going through her list of names, the fog in her mind thickened further, enveloping her in a haze of different troubling thoughts.

After making the bed that morning, she decided to leave without saying goodbye to Lucius. The sky was still a cerulean blue when she decided to make her way back to Maggie's Tailoring, she saw no reason to wake Lucius if she was just going to see him later.

After putting her shoes on, she approached the set of Russian Nesting dolls, realizing that taking the day for herself, starting with her morning, was the best decision. She knew it was wrong to assume so many things about him because she found a small jewelry box in her room, but her gut was telling her otherwise. Her fingers grazed the peak of the dolls, sending her into a tornado that spun her so fast she thought her rib cage would burst from her sides. As she landed in front of Maggie's Tailoring, she remembered Lucius' reassurance but shook her head.

'There's just no way I could get used to that feeling.' She thought to herself.

She stepped inside and immediately looked at the clock. She still had an hour before the store would open, and before she would have to explain anything to Maggie. Her mind felt fried as she went over every possible word combination she could think of, but none of it made any sense to her. How was she going to explain things to Maggie if she could barely comprehend things?

She rubbed her forehead as a dull ache began to pound behind her ears. Slowly, she made her way upstairs to her bedroom and waited for the day to begin. Time could tick as slowly as it wanted to, and even slower than that. As the day continued to approach, she knew she had to come up with something.

Suddenly, a small knock came on her door, and before she could decline or accept Maggie popped her head in.

"May I come in?"

Hermione nodded, sitting up and patting the spot on the bed beside her.

"We have five in-store fittings today." Maggie smiled as she stared at the wall ahead of her.

"Nothing for me?"

Maggie shook her head no and turned to face Hermione. Something sparkled in her beautiful green eyes. Hermione's stomach turned as she rambled through unspoken words in her mind, trying to form the sentence that could tell Maggie everything she needed to know.

"Hermione," Maggie said as she took hold of Hermione's hand. "Since you started here, my business has grown and services have increased. I don't think I could have done any outside fittings without you." She gave Hermione's hand a small squeeze and pinched her eyes shut in a smile. After a large exhale, she continued.

"Before my father passed, he loaned me the money to open this place. Since I was a little girl, I loved making people smile with clothes. My father knew how much owning my store would mean to me, so with hard work and dedication, he made it happen just for me."

Hermione waited and listened, confused about where this was all going, but decided to get lost in the image of an adorable Maggie and her father. It was an image like an old TV show she used to watch with her mother when she was home and sick with a cold. Something about the story felt soothing. Without any interruptions, she quietly begged Maggie for more.

"After my father passed away, and I finally opened this place, business was slow. I didn't know if I would be able to keep this place open just by doing in-store fittings. So, I decided to open the fittings to the public by offering delivery services, and suddenly the store gained the attention of some of the most highly prestigious witches and wizards, then it felt like I couldn't keep up!"

Hermione laughed and placed her other hand over Maggie's. She paused and glanced down, tiny glittery spots formed in the corner of her luscious green eyes, and Hermione's breath became caught in her chest as the first tear streaked down Maggie's cheek.

"When I put out the ad for the seamstress job, I didn't think anyone would be interested in working for such a small business. I thought it was a long shot." Maggie mumbled as she fought back her tears. The sincerity in her words caused Hermione's bottom lip to tremble.

Maggie nodded along and said, "My father was my best friend Hermione. When he passed, I didn't know if keeping the store open would help my grief or increase it. But the money was spent and I didn't want to let my father down. For a long time, I fought with the idea of closing the store. I missed my father so much and there were days where all I wanted to do was stay in bed and hold his clothes."

Now the two of them were in tears. Even if just a little, Hermione understood Maggie's anguish. While her best friend was not one of her parents, she knew what it was like to lose the person who gave you the most comfort.

They squeezed each other hands as Hermione wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"But then you came into the store," Maggie said as she gave Hermione a big toothy grin. "And I knew right away that you were the perfect fit for the seamstress position. You even had your bags already packed." She chuckled and Hermione burst into laughter. It was the best kind of laughter, one broken by sobs and a runny nose.

"You have no idea how thankful I am that you came in that day," She said. "Because of you I'm able to keep the store open and I get to work with someone I consider to be a good friend."

And with that, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She pulled Maggie into an enormous hug and felt like she could pop the small curly-headed woman with ease. Everything she said felt right and what she said was true—Maggie was becoming her best friend. After months of missing her old friends back at Hogwarts, she didn't realize she was slowly creating a friendship with Maggie. She pushed the selfish feelings into the deepest and darkest parts of her mind. She chose to bask in this moment with Maggie, letting only the good feelings seep through her pores.

The two eventually pulled away from each other and wiped their faces. Between sniffles, they chuckled and shook their heads. Maggie straightened the top of her shirt and patted down her cirls while Hermione pulled at the corner of her eyes with the edge of her sleeves.

"How long do we have before the store opens?" Hermione finally asked as she scanned the sky through her bedroom window.

"A few minutes." Maggie stood up from Hermione's bed and stopped in front of the door. "Thank you for listening to this crazy woman cry."

All Hermione could do was laugh as she headed for her dresser. She pulled out a fresh set of clothes and walked into her bathroom. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her cheeks felt swollen. She leaned over the counter and splashed a handful of ice-cold water across her face. As she began to change into the new set of clothes, she fought with the small voice in her head.

'I'll tell her tonight over dinner.' She kept telling the voice.

'I'll tell her tonight over dinner.'

'I'll tell her tonight over dinner.'