Okay so here is chapter two. Just to clarify - I had started uploading this story when portkey crashed. Now I've decided to upload again, and let those who read it find out what happens to our heroes
You know how it works guys - the reviews are what keep us smiling.
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Chapter 2
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"W-what? You brought me here to meet the girl in the bar?" Harry asked incredulously.
"I met her here last week and I haven't been able to get her out of my head." Hermione returned with the drink for Ron. "There's just something about her…"
Yeah tell me about it, Harry thought.
"I didn't know this was the friend you were waiting for," Hermione returned with a smile. "How are you, Ronald?" she asked. Harry looked at Ron; he had a stupid grin on his face.
"Can't complain, Hermione, can't complain at all."
"Good to hear," she winked at him and walked to a table of customers who had just seated themselves. Harry couldn't believe it, what were the odds? The girl he had just met, someone he actually found interesting, was the girl Ron had wanted to introduce him to.
"I wanna marry her Harry," Ron said dreamily. Harry looked at Ron again, he just couldn't believe it.
"But…you've been on a date?" he inquired. He usually knew all about Ron's love life, a little too much in fact.
"No, not yet." She was walking towards them again and Ron grabbed Harry's arm and pulled them to a table.
"I haven't asked her out. I want her to get to know me a bit better first you know."
"Sure." Harry drank half his ale at once. Wasn't this just his luck?
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More and more people were filling up the bar and soon a group of well known powerful business men entered the bar. Blaise Zabini led them to a table. Harry looked at Ron, searching for any conformation that he had also noticed the new arrivals. Ron was, however, making eyes at Hermione who was smiling at him. Harry shoved his elbow into Ron's side.
"Oy! What?"
"Zabini!"
Ron turned and looked over at Zabini. "I hate that git," Ron mumbled but waved at Blaise who merely nodded in their direction. They all knew each other well, Ron and Harry played poker with them sometimes, and they had spent many social gatherings together. Occasionally they even did business.
"Isn't she pretty?" Ron asked and Harry looked over at Hermione. She really was beautiful; he watched as she shoved some of her big curls out of her face.
"I've never seen her before," Harry said. "Was she at Hogwarts?"
"No, she went to Improbus."
"So she's a…"
Ron nodded. Harry looked over at Hermione again, he didn't think any less of her, but he couldn't help looking at her differently now. He felt sorry for her, for the treatment he knew she had to live through. His thoughts were interrupted as Blaise walked up to their barstools.
"Harry, my friend," he said and shook Harry's hand.
"Blaise, how are you?"
"Can't complain, can't complain at all. Just landed quite the deal actually, I was hoping to talk to you about some details concerning that deal during the week," he gave Harry a very suspicious look and Harry just nodded. He wished Blaise would just leave before Hermione saw them together. Blaise was well known for being one of the biggest asses in the magical world.
During their Hogwarts years Draco Malfoy had held the title, but after school his father had brought Draco to the ministry and he was rarely seen anymore.
Just fucking leave, I will talk to you during the week, Harry thought just as Blaise turned to leave.
Hermione came from around the bar to service a customer and Harry noticed Blaise's eyes following her. As if on cue Blaise yelled at her.
"Mudblood, come here!" Blaise walked towards his table and Hermione hurried over to him.
"Bring us some firewhiskey, quickly. And if you don't hurry…"
Hermione hurried over to the bar and poured a few glasses of firewhiskey. Harry noticed how she avoided looking at him or Ron. The people around the table started laughing.
"She's like our own dog, jumping through our hoops," one of them laughed loudly and Harry saw Hermione clenching her jaw.
She came quickly back, carrying a trey of glasses. A man Harry remembered as Gregory Goyle from school kicked out his leg and tripped her and she went flying across the floor, the glasses shattering around her. Harry clenched his fists hard. He wanted to whip out his wand and blast them all to hell.
"You stupid, ugly nasty little girl," Blaise hissed. "You spilled our drinks? Our drinks?" Hermione started to get up.
"Tom, how can you hire such filth?" Blaise called over to the table where the owner of the bar was sitting. The bar was completely silent now, and everyone was looking.
"Sorry sir, you know how it is-the Mudbloods come cheap," Tom answered.
"Cheap indeed," Blaise said and stood up. He put his foot on the Hermione's back and pushed her back down on the floor. Ron started to get up and Harry quickly grabbed his arm.
"Don't," he hissed.
"But-," Ron was dark red in the face but Harry just shook his head.
"We can't risk it!"
Ron exhaled and yanked his hand from Harry. Harry knew what Ron was feeling, but they couldn't do anything. The last thing they needed to do was to seem friendly to Muggle-borns, which would surely mean the last invite to the inner circle of Voldemort's followers for them.
"Are you going to apologize or not?" Blaise hissed and pressed harder on her back.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said.
"I couldn't quite hear you Mudblood."
"I'm sorry, sir."
Blaise looked at his friends and they laughed. Harry was clenching his fists so hard that his nails were digging into his skin. He could feel small beats of sweat trickling down the side of his face. He could see that Hermione was hurting, obviously in pain by the pressure Blaise was putting at the small of her back.
Keep calm, you have to keep calm. Just breathe! He wasn't sure if he was telling himself or Hermione.
"No, I think you meant to say, `I am sorry, sir, I'm just a stupid Mudblood who can't even serve a drink properly.' Now let's hear it!"
Hermione looked over at Harry and they locked eyes for a second. She hadn't expected him to do anything, but she felt mortified. The man she had just been flirting with, who had been flirting with her for nearly an hour, was just sitting there, watching the show. She didn't need to be rescued, she was used to this kind of treatment, but seeing him there like the coward he was made her hate him. She could see Ron's fury, and she was thankful, but Harry seemed completely calm. Even worse was that she had seen Harry talk and shake hands with Blaise-they were friends. How could she have talked to someone who was friends with such a vial person?
"I am sorry sir, I m just a stupid Mudblood who can't even serve a drink properly," she hissed through clenched teeth.
"Good girl." Blaise stepped off of her and she scrambled to get up. She took the trey and started to leave when Blaise slapped her ass. Hermione closed her eyes for just a fragment of a second and stood still before she kept walking. In another world she would have turned around and beat Blaise with the trey right across the face. But this was their world, her reality, and she could do nothing.
"At least she has a nice ass," he said crudely to the others.
"Go into the back and clean up," Tom hissed at her and she hurried to the back. With tears in her eyes she started scrubbing the dirt of her face. She hated them, all of them. If only Muggle-borns were allowed to carry wands, she would blast them all straight to hell.
When she returned back to the bar Harry and Ron had left.
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Hermione's feet were killing her. She had been working for sixteen hours and the bar had finally closed. All she wanted was to get back to the small studio she rented above the coffee shop and crash. She felt completely exhausted. It was the same drill everyday.
She put the key in the lock of the backdoor of the pub when she heard a noise. "Who's there?" she called out and someone stepped out from behind a trashcan.
"Harry?" she asked shocked as he approached.
"Hey," he fumbled with his hands nervously.
"What are you doing here?" she asked and she started walking out of the alley. Harry hurried behind her.
"I just wanted to walk you home." Hermione spun around.
"Hey, just because I work in a bar-."
"NO!" he exclaimed. "God no, that's not why I am here!"
She almost felt a bit affronted by the way he answered, as it were so awful to even consider the idea of sleeping with her.
Hermione walked faster, feeling very uncomfortable and embarrassed by his presence. She was used to being treated like crap by wizards, but Harry had been so nice to her. She had even thought…maybe that was why she was mad at him. She had thought he was flirting with her, sincerely. But obviously she was wrong.
"Will you just slow down?" he pleaded.
"No." She sped up even more and Harry marveled at how someone her size could be so fast. "What do you even want?"
"Would you just," he grabbed her arm and turned her around. Hermione shielded her face, as if she was ready to be hit. Harry let go of her immediately, the look she had given him made him sick to his stomach. He wanted to murder every person who had treated her so badly that she was afraid of being touched.
"Hermione, please, I just…"
"What?"
"I just wanted to make sure you were OK, after that…incident." Harry looked at his feet, he felt awful. He had wanted to help her, he had wanted to kill Blaise, but he couldn't.
"Don't bother yourself about it," she shrugged, "It's part of life as a Mudblood."
"Don't call yourself that," he commanded angrily. Hermione turned around and started walking again. "Hermione, I am really sorry about what happened in there." Hermione turned and glared angrily at him.
"What is this? Your good deed of the day? Talk to the poor Muggle-born girl?"
"No, I just… I want to say that it wasn't right, I'm sorry!"
"No you're not, you're just like the rest of them. I cleared all the tabs today, you bought Blaise and his whole gang a round. I know you did, so don't even pretend."
They looked at each other for moment, Harry trying to read her mind, Hermione trying to read his expression.
"It was just business."
"Of course, business is business," she said sarcastically. She arrived at her door. "This is where I live. Please leave."
"OK, bur for what it's wroth. I am really s-."
Hermione had closed to door before he could finish his sentence. They were all scum as far as she was concerned. Well that Ron guy seemed sweet; she had seen him trying to get up when Harry had pulled him back. It was not that she wanted anyone to fight her wars for her, she knew it was impossible, but just seeing someone not agreeing with such treatment made her feel a little bit better.
She kicked off her shoes and had just about the energy to wash her face before she fell down into her pillow. She thought about all her dear and good friends back in the camp were she used to live and for a moment felt a tinge of resentment towards Dumbledore for telling her to leave them to come here. She trusted him, but it didn't make it any easier. Sleep finally took her over and for a few hours, she dreamt of not being a Muggle-born or a Mudblood, of not working her ass off at that disgusting bar-she was free.
When Hermione woke up the next morning, she found herself annoyed by her lingering thoughts of Harry. Why were those emerald green eyes so hard to forget?
I bet that's how he gets girls, with those eyes, she thought and then felt a little chill in her stomach. Why was she thinking about that jerk? And why was she thinking about others girls he had had, and why did it bother her? He was such a player, she knew it. That was why she had been attracted to him, because he was used to handling stupid silly girls like her. She threw her hairbrush on the floor and it bounced with the shear power of her throw. What was the damn point in brushing her hair anyway? In about an hour it would be back to its bushy self.
The floor was cold against her naked feet and she hissed slightly. She put on her robe and walked over to the window. Carefully, she shifted the curtain and looked outside. She looked to both sides but the street seemed empty.
She hurried over to her dresser and pushed it to the side. Quickly glancing over her shoulder as if someone could be watching her, she carefully started nudging a floorboard. When it finally came loose she took up a notebook and started scribbling in it. She wrote who had been at the bar that night, what she had heard. She noted that she had seen Blaise Zabini say hello to Harry. she wrote in the margin, "friends?" She noted that Harry had bought Blaise and his friends drinks, but that Ron hadn't even spoken to them.
She hurriedly put it back and pushed back the dresser. She needed to hurry, she couldn't be late, she had to open the bar.
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Harry was pacing impatiently. He was in a very foul mood. Last night was one of the worst ones in a pretty long time.
"Will you just sit down?" Ron implored him for the fifth time. Harry looked over at the kitchen table in the Burrow, most Weasley's were there. He didn't bother answering.
"Harry, dear, your dinner," Molly said and nodded towards his untouched plate.
"He's late," Harry answered and stopped walking for a moment.
"He'll be here," Arthur reassured him.
Harry walked over and sat down next to Fred. Ginny looked sympathetically at Harry. She had no idea of the weight on her brothers' and Harry's shoulders and was thankful for it. Her only mission was working at the newspaper and reporting to the Order all of the stories the paper neglected to print.
"So Ron fancies a girl," George announced and Fred snickered next to Harry.
"Who is it this time?" Ginny said and rolled her eyes.
"No one you know!" Ron pouted and glared and George.
"Oh, don't worry sweetheart, any girl would be lucky to have you," Molly announced.
The thought of Hermione made him feel even queasier but he attempted to eat. Harry suddenly froze with the fork nearly to his mouth.
"Yeah, I heard it to," Ron said and they both jumped from their seats and ran upstairs. Harry yanked open the door to Ron's room and there he was: Albus Dumbledore.
Harry was overwhelmed with relief at the sight of him. His plum robes hung heavy to the floor, and Dumbledore's long white beard seemed even longer than last time they had seen him.
"You're late!" Harry accused, realizing how rude he sounded.
"Indeed, I am," Albus said and sat down on Ron's bed.
"Is something wrong?" Harry sounded worried. "How is Sirius?" Dumbledore took of his cloak, seeming a bit out of breath.
"I had to take many detours to get here; Hogwarts is being more heavily watched then ever. I fear Voldemort suspects what we are doing. I have heard things…" he shook his head as if lost in worried thought. Harry sat down on the opposite bed while Ron remained standing. "I fear those in the camps are in danger," Dumbledore continued. "I fear for an attack."
"What kind of danger? They are all hidden, aren't they?" Ron asked.
"Yes. Still, I believe they are not far from being discovered. I have been told that one is even closer to being found, however I do not know which one that is."
"How many are there?" Ron asked.
Harry knew the answer; there were three hidden camps in the woods. Harry knew they all lived without magic in the woods; the death Eaters had magical tracers all over the UK these days. This was the only way to keep them hidden. He had received a rather upset note by owl from Sirius about this. It had taken Sirius quite some time to getting used to washing his drawers by hand.
"Tell me, have you heard anything?" Dumbledore turned his attention to Harry and Ron.
"We were out last night, and just before we left Blaise Zabini asked Harry to come to his office for business," Ron said.
"Yeah, I think he wants me to help him set up smuggling deals."
"Indeed," Dumbledore said and tugged at his beard.
"I guess the question is if he is smuggling something in or out," Harry thought out loud.
"Indeed," the old professor said again. "Harry, you'll need to be careful. I keep hearing things…"
Harry felt a rush of impatience. "You are always hearing things, do you mind sharing this time?" Ron looked startled at Harry. "Sorry," Harry mumbled.
"I promise, Harry, you know I will when the time is right. Now I must leave, you should finish that dinner Molly made. I dare say that it smells divine."
Ron looked skeptically at Harry; the details Dumbledore knew were always startling.
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