Beauty From Pain

Chapter Nineteen

Hermione packed a bag blindly. Tears clouded her vision and glitter fell down on her clothes as she shoved them into her overnight bag. Her throat ached and tightened as she clenched her jaw to try and keep from crying. The weight of her mortification was causing her shoulders to sag, and it seemed like the only thing her mind was capable of doing was replaying the horrifying incident on a ceaseless loop.

Doves. The damned fool had charmed doves, and glitter, and rose petals, and everything else that Hermione could have possibly hated. And she had been in the middle of the Ministry of Magic, of all places.

A wordless cry of frustration escaped her lips as she threw a pair of jeans in the general direction of her bag.

She was a fool. A fool for believing Draco Malfoy had actually been sincere, that he would care enough to get to know her, to get to know the things she liked and disliked. If he had cared to have a single conversation with her, she could have told him she had allergies, and dentist parents, and a severe aversion to public displays of lunacy.

Her breathing was ragged, but she couldn't force herself to calm down. Thoughts traveling a mile a minute, Hermione shoved the rest of her toiletries into her bag. She cast her usual stream of locking and protection charms on her flat and checked to make sure she had everything she needed. With a steadying breath, Hermione apparated to the one place she knew she could find peace and quiet.

Just the fresh air of the quiet muggle street was enough to calm her erratic heartbeat. She checked to make sure there was no one to observe her sudden appearance and swiftly crossed the street. Overnight bag slung over her shoulder, Hermione allowed herself a small smile as the door bell announced her presence throughout White Wolf Designs as she pushed in the front door. The smell of incense filled her senses and brought a sensation she hadn't felt in a long time. She was home.

"Hermione!" A flash of yellow appearing from Hermione's right was the only warning she got before she was body slammed and brought to the floor.

Wheezing with laughter, Hermione wrapped her arms around her assailant. "Miranda! How are you?"

The so-named Miranda popped her head up and sent Hermione a dazzling smile. "I've been wonderful. But oh how I've missed you, darling!" She stood and offered Hermione a hand, allowing the witch to get a good look at her friend.

Miranda was a small woman standing at only 5'1", but what she lacked in height she more than made up for in personality. She was sporting a vibrant yellow tank top that perfectly fit her sunny disposition. Tattooed arms on display, the colorful ink designs offset her mocha skin beautifully. After Hermione stood upright again, Miranda held her at arms length and gave her a once over.

"Hermione, you are practically glowing! Shop ownership looks good on you." Miranda winked and pulled Hermione in for a hug. "White Wolf has been far too quiet without you, though. How long are you here for?"

Hermione returned the hug gratefully. "I haven't really decided yet. I sort of left on a whim; just needed to clear my head for a bit."

Miranda gave her a skeptical look that promised future interrogation on the subject. 

"Heartbreak or stress?"

"Heartbreak is a bit of a strong word," Hermione answered tentatively knowing how protective Miranda could be.

"I'll kill him for you."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

"They'll never find the body."

"Mo, honestly."

"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. You know my guest room is always ready for you if you need an escape. And if you do end up needing my services, just let me know. I know a guy." The smile Miranda gave her made Hermione wonder if she did in fact know a guy.