At this time, I would like to address some quite understandable concerns mentioned in the reviews. First off, something that was mentioned in a few reviews, Hermione's love for Harry. The common question became "If she loved him so much, why did she date Ron?" Well, in answer to that I give you this: it was a defense mechanism. She was subconsciously protecting herself from the hurt she felt at the loss of Harry that she dated Ron to try and rid herself from the hurt. Secondly, Hermione's outburst: the females reading this will know what I'm talking about and some of the males too. This was a combination of stress and lack of sleep catching up to her from the recently taken NEWTs and PMS (one of the most evil things in the world). I'm also happy to note that only one person who reviewed didn't catch the fact that 'Mi broke the engagement. God only knows how many people still comment on it at my other posting site. She did break her engagement to Ron, about which even I am thrilled, and I was readily excited about the people who did notice, because it told me that I wasn't the one who did it wrong. I wrote it fine, and nobody noticed. Thirdly, yes, dear sweet little 'Mi definitely has some MAJOR apologizing to do. Next, for all of your information, I tell not about Harry, nor will I until the proper time comes. Finally, after all this talk, I would like to thank all of those who have reviewed. It is greatly appreciated. Thank you all!
Runaway
Chapter 2 - Andrew Coleman
By KZerina
Hermione opened her eyes slowly. She felt warm weight over most of her body. She was in a warm bed with clothes that were not hers on her body. She started to sit up, but a black cat pounced on her chest, pushing her back to the bed. There he sat, cold cat-stare and all.
Soon, another cat, this one fluffy and brown, entered, followed by a tall blonde man. He looked at her and smiled a small smile, sitting on the bed. He was apparently glad she was awake.
"All right, Vidar, you can go," he said to the cat, which hopped off and slinked out the door.
"Did you change my clothes?" Hermione asked indignantly.
"Yeah, why?"
"How could you? You perverted-! How could you?"
The man stood up quickly. "Well it was either I change you out of your soaking wet clothes and save your life, or leave you in what you had and have you dead on my living room floor right now. Which would you prefer?"
Hermione couldn't argue. There was no doubt that she'd rather be alive in the warm bed than dead on anyone's living room floor any day, but he could at least have used the clothes out of her travel pack.
"Here-sit up and put this on. It'll compensate for the covers."
Her rescuer threw a large, very soft jumper at her, and the brown cat that had perched herself on Hermione's stomach followed the man out of the room.
He was right. He'd saved her life and that was what she gave him-an ungrateful greeting. Hopefully he would understand and forgive for what she'd done. It was very rude of her.
She slid out from under the warm comforter and put on the jumper. It was much too large for her small form, but it was warm and comfortable. She pulled the excess fabric of the sleeves so that her hands were exposed.
Soon, she smelled sweet aromas floating down the hall and through the bedroom door. He had to be a good cook for anything to smell as heavenly as this did.
The man entered the room with a tray full of food. There were hot apples in melted caramel sauce, rich hot chocolate steaming through its whipped cream topping, and more. It all smelled so wonderful and appetizing that she almost couldn't wait to try it. Her mouth watered in great anticipation.
"Eat this," he said, setting the tray over her lap. "It'll help warm you up."
"Thanks."
He left again. It was as if she wasn't welcome. He wouldn't stay long enough to have a decent conversation with her, even while she ate. He did come back though. When he entered, Hermione decided to start over.
"Hey, that was rude of me to snap at you like that. I'm Hermione Granger."
"Andrew Coleman, Drew if you want."
"Really? The people in the town talked a lot about you. You seem to have a pretty good reputation around here."
"You have no idea," he said quietly. "Hold on a minute. I'll be right back."
He left the cocoa mug for her, but took everything else, including the tray. He came back with a strange something in his back pocket. He pulled it out and examined it. It was her wand. He'd found her wand.
"So what is it?" he asked. Hermione tried to think of some excuse to tell him. "Beachwood, nine inches…." Drew swished it around a bit. "Springy…hm…and dragon heartstring?"
"How'd you know?"
"I'm a wizard, and I've learned to distinguish between the feel of the cores. Each has a different aura, yet the cores of the same type have certain similarities."
"Wow, how long did it take you to do that?"
"It was a gradual thing over the past few years," he answered simply. "You warm enough?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Good. Why don't you rest some? Is there something I can get you to do?"
"What sorts of books to you have?"
"Just about anything you could think of."
"Do you have Hogwarts, A History? It's my favorite book."
Drew smiled. "Hold on a minute."
He went away and returned with an older version of her favorite book. He handed it to her and placed a hand on her forehead. Nodding he left her to her reading.
Hermione wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but she heard him talking to someone and opening and closing drawers. She sighed and opened the leather-bound cover and began to explore the pages. Before she knew it, Drew came back, informing her that dinner was almost ready. Hermione nodded.
"Am I eating out there?"
She'd only seen Drew's bedroom-nowhere else. Maybe she'd get to explore the rest of the house.
"If you want to, I guess you can. Do you want me to get you when it's time to eat?"
"Yes, please," she answered gratefully.
Drew nodded and left again. Hermione left the book open on the end of Drew's bed so she could continue reading after dinner.
Wonderful scents wafted in from the kitchen. Another beautifully prepared meal was making its way to the table. She couldn't help but anticipate what was coming. The smells were indecipherable since there were so many, and they all blended together so well. She couldn't help it. She had to go explore. She wanted to know exactly what created those heavenly scents-and now.
Hermione wandered out of the room, clutching fists full of the long sleeves of the jumper she was wearing. She followed her nose down a corridor that seemed to run down the center of the cabin. At its end, there was a large room with a lit fireplace. The room was warm as the heat emanated from the fire.
To her right and there was the dining area. A small wooden table sat with four chairs. Four was an interesting number for a man who lived alone. Then she saw a short blur in her peripheral vision.
She snapped her head to see the blur. It was a House-Elf. It stood at the stove cooking dinner.
"Excuse me."
"Not now. I'm busy."
The Elf used pronouns. Hermione had never heard a House-Elf use pronouns or contractions. She also didn't wear the potato-sack clothing of the usual House-Elf. Instead she wore a long black skirt and a long-sleeved, burgundy, wool jumper rolled up to her elbows while she shifted a pan on its burner.
"Excuse me."
"When you eat you may talk. Drew! Dinner in five minutes!" the Elf called to somewhere else in the house.
Drew? She called her master by his name? That's not the way a House-Elf would usually refer to her master. A normal House-Elf would use Master, Sir, Mr. Andrew Coleman, or the like, but not his nickname.
"Thanks, Berry. I'll go get Her-never mind. What are you doing out of bed? I said I'd come and get you."
"I know, but I couldn't help it. It smelled so good out here, and I wanted to explore the house a little."
"You could have said something. I could have shown you the place."
"Sorry, I just-"
"It's really okay. I'm just saying it might have been more convenient for you to have asked me."
Hermione looked at the ground, avoiding Drew's gaze. The clatter of plates on the table broke the awkward silence. Hermione looked at the table next to her. The plates were filled with more delicious-looking food. She could smell the sweetness drifting from the food to her nose.
Drew pulled out the chair for her, and she sat down, thanking him. He raised his eyebrows at his House-Elf as though asking her something. She shook her head and went through a door on the farthest wall of the small rectangular kitchen. Drew shrugged and sat down at the head of the table.
"Drew, your House-Elf doesn't seem very 'House-Elf-ish.'"
"Yeah, House-Elves don't exactly have the best of lives, but my two are actually free. We compromise over the work to be done. Since it's winter, I do all the outside work with the animals, and they do the inside work, like cooking and cleaning."
"What about the clothes and the informality?"
"There's only two of them, so it's not that expensive to make normal clothes, and they are more presentable that way. As for the 'informality,' as you put it, when you live just three in a house, you get to know each other, and I don't like people looking at me like that. I'm not controlling them. They can do just about whatever they want. They even go out together sometimes."
Hermione looked at Drew. He treated his House-Elves like he would anyone else. Finally, another person saw her point of view on House-Elf enslavement. "You treat them like humans. It's nice that way. Do you pay them?"
"Not with Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. They have a place to live, food to eat, clothes to wear. If they need actual coinage, they ask for it. It's not that big a deal. We all live off of it."
Hermione smiled. He was very relaxed and open about his House-Elves. "You said you had two. Where's the other?"
"He's not very comfortable with new people, so he usually stays out of the way when we have guests."
"Do they not eat with you?"
"Usually they do, but I think Berry is going to eat with him in the secret half of the kitchen until we can get you back on your feet and on your way."
"Oh, speaking of that, Emlyn told me that you might be able to help me find someone."
"Really?" Drew replied unenthusiastically. "Who?"
"Have you ever heard of Harry Potter?"
"As in 'The Boy Who Lived?'"
"Oh, right, you're a wizard. Everyone in the wizarding world has heard of Harry. Well, he's been missing for five years."
"Everyone knows that, too. The poor guy is almost as famous a God. Who wouldn't know?"
"Thank you Mr. Sarcasm. I'm trying to talk here."
Drew raised his eyebrows impatiently and looked straight into Hermione's eyes.
"I was wondering if you'd help me find him."
Drew remained silent and still. He seemed to be contemplating something-mulling over her request in his head. Maybe he would help her. Hermione held her breath in anticipation. Of course he'd help her. The entire wizarding world wanted Harry back.
"I'm sorry, but I can't help you."
"What?"
"I have too much to do here. I have animals to take care of and house work to be done. I don't have time to search the whole of Britain for one man. I can't do it."
"But you helped the villagers!"
"Because they're close to home and in the woods here. It's not like I have to neglect one job to do another. Many times I'll find them while pasturing the sheep."
"So you're not going out of your way to help save someone?"
"Not for an outsider. I do if it's a child lost in the woods in the dead of winter. He wouldn't be able to survive on his own. Harry Potter disappeared five years ago. He can handle himself. If he survived his first winter on his own, then he can survive four more of them." Ron had said something like that, too. Maybe they were right.
Now, Hermione could tell Drew was becoming irritated. She almost felt satisfied at her accomplishment, but she could also tell that he was not one to irritate to the end of his nerves. Hermione sighed and looked away from is intense, deep blue eyes. She was sick and didn't have a way to defend herself.
They ended up finishing dinner in silence. Neither looked at the other out of fear that they might begin arguing again.
Berry returned and swept the plates from the table and washed them. Drew stood and traveled to a room towards the back of the cabin. Hermione's curiosity led her to follow him.
He turned into a room that smelled of freshly cut wood chips. She peeked around the doorframe and saw shelves upon shelves full of carved figurines.
A large dog (a Rhodesian Ridgeback judging by the strange line of fur running up his back) was lying in the ground, looking at her as though she were the most subordinate of anything in the world. He acted like he was the Queen or something.
"Do you know you are bad sneak?"
Hermione gasped. Drew hadn't even so much as looked at her out of the corners of his eyes. He continued to stare at his hands and whatever he was doing.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. Is he going to hurt me?"
"Kosse? No. He just likes being the top of the more-than-two-legged creatures that roam the place, and you have my bed. He likes lying there even though he's not supposed to." He'd said the last part pointedly at the dog.
The dog made a whining noise and slumped his head to the floor, still looking at Hermione with that slightly annoyed look.
Hermione looked away from Kosse and to the shelves of little figures. They were a wide variety of subjects-winged horses, phoenixes, sphinxes, nymphs, and Muggle creatures, too. They were all so beautiful and intricately carved. Each detail was so finely placed that the small wooden statues looked like they could come to life any moment.
"Did you make these?" she asked, picking up a statue of a proud stag overlooking a cliff.
"Yeah, and could you not touch that one? It's the very first good one I made. It's kind of special."
"Oh, sorry."
Hermione set it gently back in its place and moved along the shelves. She came to a set of shelves with painted figures, probably hand painted. There was a very beautiful one of each of the four breeds of winged horse, roaming the realms above the clouds. Each and every feather was etched with its veins and each muscle (or lack thereof in the case of the thestral) seemed to ripple on the horses' bodies. The magnificent realism was almost overwhelming.
"They're all so beautiful."
Drew said nothing. He just carved away at his block of wood.
The next shelf smelled distinctly of cedar. Carved in the red wood were phoenixes, salamanders and even a large Chinese Fireball. Each piece was as beautiful as the next, and eventually, she came to where Drew was carving.
"What is that going to be?"
"A griffin. I just started it this afternoon so it's not too far along."
"Wow."
Then, Hermione let out a large yawn that almost made her eyes water. She suddenly felt very tired.
"Why don't you get yourself to bed? Your packs are at the foot of the bed if you need anything from them. The bathroom is across the hall from there."
Hermione nodded. "Thanks. Goodnight."
"'Night."
With that, she went to Drew's bedroom and climbed into bed. She thought about his wonderful talent for woodcarving and drifted away into sleeping darkness.