Hermione Granger Imagines

𝒶 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒹𝓇𝒾𝓃𝓀; 𝑒𝓂𝓂𝒶 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝓈𝑜𝓃

Typing away vigorously on your keyboard, that's what you were doing at one in the morning. You were writing; that was your job, writing. You were in a love-hate relationship with it. Restless nights you spent writing, and there were more of those than there weren't. A lot of things traveled your mind at night, and you were a night owl as it was. 

You hated it. You hated small things too. You were really a simple person; hated the tv on at night, couldn't sleep with all that nose, but you couldn't quite sleep in the quiet either. Simple. But sometimes writing didn't bring you down from that tower of restlessness; you couldn't become drowsy. 

 You were out of solutions. Even being in New York you were at a loss on what to do. You slammed your aching arms down on your desk, rubbing your temples angrily. You were getting annoyed, more so by the minute. 

It seemed to help when your dog; Chase, rested his head in your lap. Chase could turn a bad day into a good day most of the time. But maybe you needed a break, maybe a drink wouldn't hurt. You grabbed your phone off the stand, and stepped outside of your apartment. Walking down the street- the brisk cold hitting you, it felt nice. This is what you moved to New York for, the cold. 

The streets weren't to busy; depending on who was judging anyways, those who didn't live in the city would've believed that it was busy, but if you were familiar- which you were- the city wasn't too bad. You walked for a while, the pubs near your apartment not worth your time; either full or empty. 

It took you awhile, you weren't looking for a place that was loud, nor were you looking for one that would draw in attention. You had a certain place in mind; richer people went there. You stepped inside, taking your coat off slinging it over your forearm. Slowly making your way to the bar, setting yourself down on the bar stool. 

"What can I get you," said the friendly bartender. Rather in a good mood, a smile worn on her face. 

"Whiskey on the rocks; top shelf," you gave your best smile. 

"Rough day?" she said, flipping the glass over, pouring a brownish liquid in the glass. 

"Eh," you did a see saw motion with your hand. She smiled. 

"This one is the house," she slid it down towards you, grabbing it and pouring some of the liquid down your throat. That burn hitting the back of your throat, didn't faze you. You rather enjoyed that feeling; you drank the rest. After setting the glass down you noticed a brown-haired woman to your right, you shot her a small smile before getting a refill. 

You caught a small glimpse of her, she was rather beautiful; she fit in a setting like this. She looked like the one percent- not that, that was a bad thing- you were just a good observer was all. "Another one please," you mumbled, downing the second glass. A look of pain contorting on your face. 

After the third glass slid down, you downed it just like the one before. By no means were you at all a lightweight, you ordered another. Not growing tired or remotely drunk. The fourth drink turned into the sixth, before you heard a voice beside you.

"Geez, maybe I should buy you a drink," she joked, you chuckled a bit. Charming. 

"Maybe you should," you smiled at her, motioning for another drink; getting a full view of her, she was gorgeous. 

"Two more then," she told the lady in front of them, she smiled at the both of you. 

"Bad day?" you asked, sipping this one a little more slowly. "Don't answer if it's too personal."

"It's fine. Just restless is all, can't sleep."

"You don't say?" you smirked, "same problem."

Hours later and you two were talking; learning that you both had a lot in common, made it easier to talk to one another. Emma was her name, she was rather gorgeous inside and out, she was. She'd blush at your small comments and compliments, you smiled. For once you could thank your damn sleep problems. 

Then slowly music started playing, and you couldn't help but offering your hand. She gladly accepted. She was effortlessly beautiful; her hair was askew, she was wearing a plain back t-shirt and a pair of ripped skinny jeans, she looked perfect. Maybe it was the drinks talking, but you felt drawn. 

You held onto both of her hands, slowly dancing around with her. It was like you were made for each other. She rested her head on your shoulder, with her eyes closed just enjoying your warmth and scent. Would it be so crazy to think you two would have believed the night would end at the others apartment? No, but phone numbers were exchanged in the morning. 

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bop bop bop. I can't sleep it's midnight for a hoe, kinda bored, any requests? lmk I will take them.