A/N: OMGOMGOMGOMG New Moon comes out in 5 days! I'm super excited =] I already have my ticket for the midnight showing and just am soooo hyper with excitement it's not even funny. But, unfortunately, the day of the movie premiere is the first day of my exams. Oh well. I'll worry about that later. For now, here's the next chapter of Love Life. Unfortunately, it's more of a filler chapter, informing you more about Hermione's character. But most of you had questions about why she is the way she is, so hopefully this will help. And as for Harry and Hermione's non-existent friendship, the details about how that came about will soon be revealed. Don't worry, you won't be disappointed. But for now, enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. He's Hermione's =]
Enjoy!
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Old Habits Die Hard
There comes a point in a young person's life when they realize that they need to make their own money. I've known this since I was seven when my parents sat me down in the living room and informed me of the basics. This was a full four years before the pivotal "talk" with my mum, so at the time it was pretty overwhelming. Some may argue that they informed me about my future about a decade too early, but I think it was for the best. I took their advice to heart and have never taken anything for granted since. As the years progressed, my parent's workload fluctuated up and down to the point where I didn't know if I was going to see my parents when I woke up or when I went to sleep. So I took it upon myself to make myself food, clean the house, and take on all the duties that they never had time to do. Despite my parent's plentiful income, they never hired a nanny. They were old-fashioned to the core and didn't want someone else raising their daughter. So from the time I was eight, I have taken care of myself.
My parents acquired their own practice when I was thirteen. It quickly became unnecessary for me to continue my duties soon after because of their new flexible schedule. But something like taking care of yourself doesn't wear off just like that. It becomes habit. So instead of doing work around the house I began looking for work elsewhere. Unfortunately, most stores in the Muggle world don't hire anyone under sixteen. But it was last year I realized that I didn't just have to look for work in London-there was a whole other location entirely that I could apply. Granted, it took me awhile to figure it out, but it still paid off in the end.
Last summer I applied for a job at the stationary store in Diagon Alley, "The Write Expression". I had also applied to "Flourish & Blotts" as well, but unfortunately for me, they weren't hiring at the time. I would have loved to work there more than anything else, but fate had other plans for me. It's ironic that I would now need the discount for the stationary more than books.
I found out a week after I applied that I had gotten the job. So a week into the summer before my sixth year, I started helping out the owner, Mrs. Oliver. I took inventory, restocked shelves, manned the cash register, swept the floors; basically did anything she asked me too. Mrs. Oliver was a kindly woman in her late thirties with dusty brown hair and pale complexion. She was Muggleborn, like me, and had a tendency to wear a lot of argyle sweaters. She was so lovely to me and didn't take my younger age into consideration when giving me stuff to do around the store, which I appreciated. Throughout the year I've worked with her, she's become more of a friend than employer. Yes, a friend. I don't make friends at school, but with people fifteen-odd years my senior. Call me crazy, but I like my method better.
My first day back at work was on a Wednesday morning. The store itself doesn't open until eight, but I like to arrive fresh, if you get my meaning. So I set my alarm for six so I could take a shower, make myself a nice breakfast, and be out the door before my parents even got out of bed.
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
I slammed the snooze button on my alarm and sleepily got out of bed. This was the time I usually woke up for classes anyway, so I was already used to the early wake-up call. Sleeping in was nice, but when you had work to do, it was a waste of precious time.
I padded to the bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped my pajamas as I waited for the temperature to get just right. I'm not a particularly picky person-okay I lied. But I'm only picky about small things. Things like shower water being exactly ninety-eight degrees. But that's normal stuff. Everyone has a specific water temperature they like to shower in. Right?
I pulled the knob that switched the showerhead on and gingerly stepped in. I really loved taking showers; they gave me time to think. Sometimes, I came up with my best ideas when the hot water poured on me. In fact, I remember one time in fourth year I received a 120 on a Charms exam the morning that I took a shower revising each and every question on the review assignment. So really, the perfect shower lead to the perfect score-with a little extra twenty points on the side, but who was counting? Okay me. But I had a right to be cocky! I had unlocked the secret to scoring high on exams. Well, most people knew to study, but just chose not to, claiming it a waist of energy. I'm sure that if they concentrated on things other than sex and gossip, they would get 120's, too.
Oh, who am I kidding? Hogwarts was full of washouts and whores.
I turned off the shower after doing a full wash of my hair and body. I pulled a towel from the hanger close to the sliding door and dried my skin in a path from my feet to my hair. I stepped out of the shower and in front of the fogged mirror to brush my teeth. I rubbed the precipitation with my fist and began the two-minute cleaning of my teeth. Yes, I do stick to dental regulations. My parents are dentists, I have no choice. Well, it's not as if they were looming over my shoulder and edging me on. But I had a problem with habits and not being able to break it. Except for not having any friends my age, but now is not the time nor place.
I spit into the sink and grabbed the glass full of water to wash out my mouth. Now finished with my bathroom routine, I exited and went back into my room to change. Since I work in a family owned stationary store, the only dress code is what the boss makes it. And in Mrs. Oliver's case, she doesn't care as long as it's appropriate. So I grab a pair of dark wash jeans, plain white tee, and button up green jumper. Pulling on my black trainers, I head downstairs to make myself a healthy breakfast. I'm in the mood for eggs and toast.
I grab the milk, eggs, and white bread from the fridge and slowly prepare them. When I first began cooking, it was pure disaster. I tried to cook spaghetti for dinner and ended up burning it. Don't ask me how, I just did. But just to be safe, now I take my time while cooking anything more complicated than cereal. Even eggs and toast.
As I pour the eggs mixed with milk from the bowl into the greased pan, I take in the aroma of a new morning. It seems cliché, but mornings are always the quietest time of the day for me. Especially when I'm at Hogwarts. No one is insane enough to wake up at the same hour I do, so it's the only time of day that's somewhat peaceful. And living in Gryffindor tower, that's saying something. You see, last year Gryffindor tower became the party zone of the school. Ever since Potter defeated Voldermort (No, I had no fear of saying his name), the entire fourth through seventh year class found it fit to throw a party every free moment they had. I had only gone to a few of the parties, for the free food of course, and each time the room looked more like a war zone than a common room. It was safe to say I never stayed for more than five minutes. I had a sweet tooth for butterbeer, sue me.
I grabbed the toast out of the toaster as it popped out and poured my eggs onto the plate next to it. Grabbing the pepper and Nutella from the cupboard, I sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen and turned on the mini-television across the kitchen. It was already preset to turn on the news so I heard the annoyingly peppy blonde newscast start to talk about raising prices in women's lingerie. Lovely.
I was in the middle of shoving the last bit of eggs in my mouth when the male newscast came on. I never really cared for much he said, seeing as how he spent more time smiling in what was supposed to be a cheering manor at the camera than reporting the news. They probably just hired him to boost the ratings. Shallow morons. But something about his report today caught my attention.
"And in other news… A significant decrease in crime rates have been occurring these past few weeks. The mysterious group behind the attacks has still not been caught. Among their crimes were kidnappings, building destruction, and somehow causing a misty green marker to appear over the buildings they had conquered. Have they realized the error of their ways and given up their reign? Or is this just a bump in the road? Only time will allow this case to be put to rest."
"Well let's hope that this is the end of their sick games, right Mark?" The female newscast said in a faux-concerned tone.
"Right Kate." And there it was, his award-winning smile. It was enough to make my stomach curl.
I clicked the off button and watched as their faces dissolved into blackness. Even the Muggle world was beginning to take notice of Voldermort's demise. It should be considered a good thing, but Mark Goldbloom's Cheshire grin said otherwise.
I put my plate in the dishwasher and headed out the door. I grabbed my car keys from their hook in the garage and stepped into the car my parents bought me when I turned seventeen. I got my license the first time I took the test, thankfully, so I could drive myself to work in the morning without having to bother my parents for a ride. Seeing as how my birthday was in September, I'd already been on the road since Christmas last year. London was only a ten minute drive from my house, so I knew I'd be a good half hour early for work.
I pulled out of the driveway and headed out of the neighborhood at the posted speed limit. I turned on the radio about halfway there and listened to my favorite radio station. Contrary to what most people might think of me, I actually enjoy music. Smooth, easy-flowing guitars and natural vibratos always stuck my fancy when I was in the mood for music.
The heart of London wasn't very densely populated in the wee hours of the morning. It made it much easier to find a parallel parking space on Charing Cross Road outside of The Leaky Cauldron. The pub was almost always open, seeing as how it had guest rooms on the second floor. It served one mean breakfast and sometimes when I didn't feel like cooking, I had Tom's special flapjacks and sausage. I walked into the dark and shabby building and saw Tom removing the chairs from the top of the tables. He heard me come in and offered a tired smile.
"Good morning, Hermione."
"`Morning, Tom. Did you have a good night's rest?"
"I think you already know the answer to that, lass."
I nodded. While stopping in for breakfast some days, Tom and I had ourselves a good amount of conversations. I learned three things. One, Tom was actually a nice guy to talk to; two, I was his favorite customer (at least that's what he wants me to think); three, he had a sleeping disorder called Primary insomnia, which meant he had difficulty falling asleep, if he slept at all. Poor guy.
"Have a craving for anything this morning?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
I shook my head shortly, "Sorry, Tom. I already had a very filling breakfast at home."
"Aww come on, Hermione. Not even a cuppa?"
I bit my lip slightly. "I don't thi-" I let out a mighty yawn and giggled. "Alright, you win. Brew me up some coffee."
"Already ahead of you." He said with a wink.
I took a seat at the bar and watched him pull out a pitcher of steaming coffee. I sniffed in the fresh-brewed aroma and sighed. I knew I had been forgetting something this morning. He pulled out a mug and poured the dark substance into it. He got out a bowl of sugar cubes and creamer and allowed me to add my own, even though he knew full well how I took it. Three sugars and what seemed to be a pint of creamer. It was safe to say I hated black coffee. I don't even think what I took a sip of could even be considered coffee. More like cream and sugar with an eye drop of coffee.
"I haven't seen you around in a while. How's school been?" He asked, leaning on his elbows over the counter.
I shrugged. "Uneventful, I guess. N.E.W.Ts are this year and I'm eagerly awaiting my Hogwarts letter to see if I made Head Girl."
"Oh, lass, of course you made it. No need to be modest." He said suggestively.
I blushed. "I don't know, Tom… there are some other really good girls who can easily be considered competition and-" He raised an eyebrow, "Oh who am I kidding? I totally got it!"
I really hate being modest sometimes.
I looked over at the clock posted on the wall and took another sip of coffee. "I really need to be off, Tom."
He nodded. "I understand. Don't wanna be late on your first day back to work."
"Exactly. I'll see you when I get off. Save me a ham and cheese sandwich?"
"Always."
I took one last sip of my coffee and slid off the bar stool. With one last wave, I exited out the back to the pass way that lead to Diagon Alley. I tapped the bricks, three up and two across, and watched as the arch to the alleyway appeared. There were a few stragglers walking up and down the cobblestone road, opening their shops or just going for a morning walk. I started walking the short distance to the small shop and slowed as I came to "Quality Quidditch Supplies", the shop next door which always seemed to gather more attention than ours for some reason. I didn't have a problem with Quidditch usually, but fifty galleons for a pair of dragon hide gloves was a bit much, wasn't it?
Mrs. Oliver hadn't arrived yet so I dug in my pocket for my keys and unlocked the door. Ever since she realized that I actually enjoyed getting up in the wee hours of the morning, she made me a copy of the store key so I didn't have to wait until she came. She also had a habit of running late some days and needed someone to man the store when it was opening time. And that was only my first week.
The bell jingled to signal my arrival and the light flickered on. I made my way to the counter and checked to make sure everything was in order. Much to my surprise, everything was well and organized. Did I mention that for owning a stationary store, Mrs. Oliver had horrible organizational skills? But apparently not today.
It was seven-forty, which meant I had a good twenty minutes before opening time. Since I left my remaining coursework at home, I didn't have much to do. I could start cleaning the shelves or take inventory to get a head start. But it looked like for once, Mrs. Oliver went all out to make my first day easy. So until she got here, I had absolutely nothing to do. I should be ecstatic like any working teenager. But I wasn't normal, as you should gather by now. I like working.
Click, click, click
My head turned towards the display window, expecting some early-rising youngsters to be throwing pebbles at the window again (don't ask…). But what I saw was much less aggravating. The mysterious snow white owl I knew now to be a girl named Hedwig was furiously tapping at the glass as though her life depended on it. I grinned and opened the door to let her in. Looks like Joe Bloggs was more of an early riser than I thought.
Hedwig found a post on one of the shelves behind the front counter and extended her leg with the letter attached. I eagerly grabbed it and searched around for something to write with. It wasn't hard seeing as this was a stationary store. I grabbed some spare parchment and a quill to ready my reply and opened the letter.
We had been sending letters for a little over a week now and I knew the following things about him: his owl's name was Hedwig, he was male, his favorite class was Defense Against the Dark Arts, he hates the summer because Hogwarts was like his home, and his favorite color was blue.
Dear Anonymous,
I never usually get up this early but I had a little bit of trouble falling back asleep after a day filled with Quidditch and more Quidditch. I don't think my muscles will ever be the same. It's a good thing it's summer or else I'd be screwed. Even this half-finished coursework I have staring at me is getting to be too much. It's a good thing I'm getting out today. It's like it's begging me to finish it, even though I have no intent to until a week before term. I could really use the change of environment. Not that I don't like where I'm at now-but a guy can only stand the same place for so long before wanting to get out for a few hours. I have some shopping to get done anyway. Great. Now I sound like a housewife. Is it September yet?
Sincerely,
Joe Bloggs
It was a shorter letter, but it looked like he was in a rush. I hated cabin fever as much as the next person so I really hoped that getting out would do him some good. The least I can do is wish him luck on his day out. It looked like he needed it before he lost his mind.
I grabbed the quill I set out and slid the parchment towards me. Pulling up the chair we had hidden under the desk for when the shop had a slow day, I plopped down and began writing a quick note.
Dear Joe Bloggs,
Sorry about your cabin fever. I think a day out will do you some good. Not to mention a nice walk will loosen up those tight muscles from playing Quidditch. If you had fun, they were well worth it, right? Sorry about-
"Hermione!"
"AH!"
I lost my balance and had to hold onto the counter to keep from falling. I looked up and saw Mrs. Oliver looking at me with a raised brow. "Mrs. Oliver! I-I didn't hear you come in."
"Obviously. I called your name five times. Are you working on homework this early in the day? Honestly, Hermione, you need to slow down."
I laughed hollowly. "It's actually not homework."
"Really?" She asked, looking for lack of a better work, surprised. I can't really blame her, though. I would have been shocked, too. Me, working on something other than homework? It's unheard of.
"Yeah."
She leaned over and began reading my letter upside down. I tried covering it up, but it was too late. "Joe Bloggs? You're writing someone you don't know?"
"No! I mean, yes. But it's not what you think. He's my pen-pal."
"You have a pen-pal?"
I scowled. "Yes, I have a pen-pal. It was an experiment to see if I could actually get along with people of my own age."
"Was an experiment?" She asked suggestively.
"I meant is." I defended. "You just caught me off guard with your accusations."
She rolled her eyes and leaned forward to study my face, something she did quite often with conversations like these. And by "like these", I mean when she's accusing me of something and I'm trying to defend myself. She never found anything, though. Not that she doesn't have a gift for reading people. She does. She's quite skilled at Legilimency-something she chose to learn to sell more supplies. People didn't come to this store often until the time for back-to-school shopping came around. I used to frown upon her manipulation of the skill, but her excuse was pretty legit. Bills.
She didn't have to use it on me, though. She could read me with a single look. I think this was the only time I resented that.
She pulled back with a small smirk. "How long have you two been writing each other?"
I shrugged, "Around a week."
She tilted her head, "And how many letters do you write per day, would you say?"
I bit my lip, "I dunno… around… ten?"
"Ten?" She said, nodding a bit. I knew she was mocking me.
"Shut up, Sue." I said, going back to my letter.
"Do you like him?" She asked evenly.
I smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. He's nice and funny and he gets me, you know?"
"And he's actually your age." She teased.
I snorted; something I only did when I was around her. "That's definitely a bonus." I paused, looking at her pointedly, "You don't think it's stupid, do you? That the only friend I have my age has no I idea who I am?"
She shook her head. "No, honey, I don't. You don't know who he is and you still like him, don't you? I reckon he feels the same about you or else he wouldn't keep on writing you. And maybe, in time, you'll meet him."
"Maybe." I looked out and window dreamily and saw more people walking by it than the last time I checked. My neck snapped to the clock and I inhaled deeply. "Oh Sue, I'm sorry. I'll get us opened up in a second, I promise. Let me just-" I was about to wave my wand to flip the sign on the door to open, but she put her hand up and stopped me.
"Don't worry about it, Hermione. I'll open up and you finish up that letter. Just put your apron on when you're done. You're on cash register duty today."
I groaned. That was my least favorite of the chores she made me do. "But why can't you do it?"
"Because I have some stuff I have to take care of in the back."
"Delivery day?"
"You betcha." She said sourly. "Do you mind manning the store for a few hours while I argue with the delivery guy?"
"Yeah no problem."
She smiled sweetly, "Thank you."
"It's my job." I said smartly.
She didn't respond and headed towards the back, waving her wand so the sign switched to open. I knew we wouldn't get many customers, so it wasn't a real hassle to man the store all by myself. But it would be quite boring without Sue to talk to.
I turned back to my letter and picked up where I left off.
-Sorry about your talking homework as well. The fresh air should clear that up as well. Just try your best to relax and it'll all be fine. Tell me how your day went after you get back, alright?
Sincerely,
Anonymous
I quickly wrapped up the letter and looked around for Hedwig. I saw her perched on the high ceiling, most likely looking for mice. "Hedwig!" I called.
She craned her neck towards me and quickly came floating down. I petted her feathers gently and tied the letter to her claw. She looked at me with a pleading look and I sighed. "I'm sorry, girl, I didn't bring any treats with me. I'll get some on my break later, alright?"
She hooted and took off. I watched as she glided out the open window out back and turned back to the register. Looking out at the crowd outside, I sighed. Hopefully we wouldn't get any customers today. I know that's a horrible thing to say, but I really hated being behind the counter where my vocabulary was restricted to "Will that be all?" and "Two galleons is your change, have a nice day." I sounded like a broken Barbie doll. And oh how I hated Barbies.
I reached in the cupboard beneath the register and pulled out my apron. Well, it wasn't really an apron. More like a few pockets that you tie around your waist. But it was the only think I was required to wear so I didn't complain. At least I didn't have to wear a pink petticoat with a matching corset.
I knew it would be boring but luckily I didn't have to wait too long to be somewhat entertained. If you wanted to call it that.
It was only an hour before the bell rang and alerted me that there was a customer. I was in-between two shelves of quills sorted by color and quality. I had two stacks of quills in each hand that needed to be put at opposite ends of each shelf and had no time to go assist the customer right away. The quills happened to be the only thing that Sue brought in to be shelved since the delivery guys messed up the parchment shipment and had to go to the factory to fetch the right order. Sue, being the pushy woman she is, insisted she go with them. So I was absolutely alone in the store and had no idea when she'd be back. It's a good thing no crowds ever came to this store until August.
"I'll be right with you! Just give me a second to… get these quills… stocked." I called to whoever entered.
"It's alright, take your time."
The voice was a deep baritone. I didn't really want to think too much on it so I could focus on keeping my balance with these quills. For feathers, they were quite heavy in bulk. I got the first two stacks put away without incident, but somehow one of the quills came loose and I didn't realize it until after my foot came into contact with it. It was made from an iron base, so when my foot collided with it, the quill rolled and caused me to fall straight onto my back, the remaining stacks going up in the air and falling all over the floor.
I didn't realize I had made that much of a disturbance until I heard heavy footfalls coming towards me and the voice of the customer shouting, "Are you alright?! Do you need some-Granger?"
I looked up and groaned. This is not what I needed right now.
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