Disclaimer: I don't own HP. JK bowling does, and we saw that in DH…
A/N: My take on the "Secret Admirer" challenge by BloodyRegrets that you can find here: http://talk.portkey.org/index.php?showtopic=26225 . Hope you'll enjoy this fic, I'm sure I'll enjoy writing it! And if you read, please review, it makes me happy and it just takes you few moments! *laughs* Ignores the epilogue.
This story is going to be mostly from Hermione's point of view, especially the first chapters. Now, stop the chatter and let's see what happens here, uh? *winks*
The Stalker
Chapter One: Letters
Hermione Granger was walking back to her flat. She had had a long tiring day at St. Mungo's, where she worked as an Healer, and decided that a walk would help her relax a bit. After all, she didn't live far from work, it was just ten minutes from there.
It had been sheer luck, really, when she had found that apartment. Before, she lived with Ron and Harry at Grimmauld, but both her and the redhead had been looking for places of their own for a while.
Not that living with Harry was bad, mind you, but it felt good to have something of their own, after all they were all going to have to find someone for themselves soon, and it would be awkward to bring a date home when your two best friends lived there too.
So, she finally clicked the door of her flat open, slid inside, and leaving the coat on the couch in the living room, went to the bathroom to have a relaxing bath. After she started it, the brunette entered the kitchen and poured herself a glass of red wine. Finally she started taking off her clothes, then.
Soon, Hermione was neck-deep into the hot water, her eyes closed, and she sighed contentedly.
As she took her time in the bath, the brunette suddenly heard tapping on a window. Wondering who might be, she wrapped a robe around herself, dried her hair a bit so to not have droplets of water fall all around her flat and went to get it, finally finding out the cause of the noise.
A brown owl was waiting for her with a letter tied to its leg.
She opened the window, let the animal inside and then took the letter. She tore the envelope open, frustrated at whoever disturbed her relaxing bath at that hour of the night.
As she scanned over the words, she rolled her eyes laughing, and tossed the parchment in the trash bin.
It read,
Dear Hermione,
You don't know who I am right now
But I know you,
And I'm blessed about that.
You're a goddess among mortals
Yours forever,
An admirer
She resumed her night of relax with a quick supper and watching a movie on the telly, but soon exhaustion caught up with her and she fell asleep with the movie still going.
It was late at night when she finally woke up, her back sore, and she sleepily padded to her bed, muttering about not ever watching a movie again when she was so tired.
Next morning, she gingerly prepared herself some coffee, then went back to her room to get dressed. Choosing an attire she would be comfortable with, but that would also make her look good, Hermione settled for a white shirt, a creamy skirt and a pale pink sweater. Nothing too fancy, but still, as Harry had put it one time she had dressed more or less like that, "simply beautiful". She had blushed at his praise then, but she had cherished it in her heart all the same. A quick brush of her hair, a touch of make up, and she was ready.
See, during the years after the war, Hermione Granger had learned to enjoy her feminine side, the one she had always kept locked up in her teenage days. Not that she was model-like beautiful, but she had learned how to make the most of her best features, which weren't few after all. Her hair had become curly instead of bushy, thanks to some potions Molly had taught her to brew, her brown, warm eyes had always been one of her better traits, but now that she hadn't school robes covering her clothes, she could be a bit more feminine with what she wore, making sure not to hide the curves that the last years had gifted her with.
As she was to Apparate to work, the brown haired witch had the distinct feeling she was being watched, but shrugged it off, and in a flash she was no more in her bedroom but in the hall of the Wizarding hospital.
She walked to her office, wore her white Healer robes, and went for the usual round of checking on her patients, before the daily meeting with her assistant, Grant, over possible cures for them.
"Here starts another day" she cheerfully said. As tiring as it was, she loved her job and wouldn't change it with anything else.
At lunch, Harry surprised her stopping by.
She was just entering her office to put away some paperwork about a patient that had just been released, when she spotted him, leaning on the wall, gazing at her with those emerald eyes of his, without glasses covering them anymore.
Hermione had fixed his eyes herself when she ha found out how, as he trusted no one else with it.
"Harry!" she squealed in surprise. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Well, I thought to have lunch with my best friend that I lately see so little of" he joked, teasing her about her working habits.
She had the decency to blush, as she very well knew he had a point. "I'm sorry I've been…"
"Hermione" he said softly, and she looked up at him. "I understand. I was away from you and Ron for months myself, when I had to go through Auror training, so there's no need to be sorry. I was just teasing you" he said, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
She lightly swat his arm, giving him a mock glare, but then she smiled.
"Shall we go then?"
"Of course ma'am" he said with a slight bow that made her roll her eyes, still she was pretty amused by his antics.
After lunch, Hermione promised him they would restore their habit of going out on Friday night, just the three of them, and he kissed her on the cheek before rushing off to the Ministry. He was already late, but it was one of the little privileges of being Head of the Auror Department. No one would report you, so it was ok to be late once in a while.
Hermione, on her side, stood a bit in her office, thinking back to the fun she and Harry had over lunch. It was what she needed, after a rough morning which had taken away the good mood she had
gone to work with that day. Two of her patients had gotten decidedly worse, and she was at a loss of what to do to save them.
"I swear, his ability to raise my spirits when I need it the most is almost…magical" she thought to herself, smiling at the pun.
When she got home that night, she found the same owl of the previous night waiting for her.
"Blimey" she muttered, surprised. Tearing the parchment away from its leg, and gaining an angry hoot from the bird, which promptly flew away, she sat on her bed, reading.
Dearest Hermione,
I know you are now wondering who I am,
sending you letters twice in a row.
You will know me in due time, but I can't
Resist telling you how beautiful you are.
You're like the sun for the cold earth, like
Water for a thirsty man…
You're the most wonderful woman I've ever seen.
Love,
Your admirer
She had to smile at how cheesy his letter was, and yet, it somehow warmed her heart. It had been too long since she had raised the interest of an another man, or at least, of someone who would act on it. Many had looked her way, and yet few acted on the attraction they seemed to have for her. Maybe it was because of her fame of being smart, most men were scared by a smart woman, or maybe it was something else, but the fact was it was by now an year since the last time she had gone out on a date.
Ron and Harry were always pushing her to go out more, but she barely had time for them, how could she have time for going out to clubs and such? Yet, being twenty-four, she was still young and should enjoy life as much as she could.
So, these letters were somewhat cute and she smiled reading them. She wondered why this man couldn't talk to her in person, though.
The question intensified when those letters kept coming, always without a name or an address to reply. The owl who carried them flew away as soon as she took the envelope, so she had no way to find out who this admirer was.
One night, while she and Harry were having dinner together at her place, Ron was out of town with the Cannons as he played Keeper for them, the by now familiar owl arrived.
Harry was the first one to reach out for it, but the animal was adamant to not let him grab the envelope. Instead, it flew towards Hermione and while glaring at Harry, sort of, it let her take it.
Once the "blasted bird", as Harry had called it, had flown out of the window again, the raven haired wizard went to read the letter over Hermione's shoulder.
Or at least he tried to, because she clutched the parchment to her heart stopping him from reading, a tiny blush colouring her cheeks.
They resumed their meal, Harry seemingly forgetting about the whole ordeal, or, better, letting it go as he knew if she didn't want to tell him, there was no way he would convince her to do it, then they settled on the couch, watching some telly and chatting about what was going on with their lives.
When midnight rolled around, Harry decided he should go get some sleep as he had an early start the next morning, so Hermione escorted him to the door, and there he wished her goodnight, pecking her on the lips just before Apparating away.
She stood there, rooted to the spot, touching her lips with her fingers, wondering what that all was about.
Trying not to dwell too much on it as it would bring back feelings she had managed to bury away, she slipped her nightclothes on, entered her bed, and then set rereading the letter.
My wonderful Hermione,
You own my heart by now,
I hope you will be able to love
me back one day. I wish I could
kiss your soft lips and pull you close
so that you would never feel cold or lonely.
Love forever,
Your admirer
Reading the line about kissing her lips made her remember the feeling that had spread through her body when Harry had kissed her, and she surrendered to a sleep filled of an unknown lover, of whom she could only see the sparkling green eyes.
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