||Black Scarves and Careless Hearts|| A Dramione Fanfic

3. Dragonhide Gloves

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"When life gives you lemons, squeeze them in people's eyes."
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Excitement for her first day at work caused Hermione to wake up half an hour before her alarm went off. The sunrays had just begun creeping across the rug on the bedroom floor, and as she watched, they managed to reach her bed and fall upon her face.

She grabbed a granola bar for breakfast, and nibbled on it while preparing the food bowl for Crookshanks. 

"I'll see you in the evening," Hermione said, "Don't ruin my plants and please don't tear the curtains."

Crookshanks purred and wove between her legs once, and Hermione took that as a reassuring answer. Checking around her for anything she may have missed, she apparated with her bag under one arm and her wand in the other. 

She landed right outside the door to The Leaky Cauldron. Inside, a waiter was arranging the chairs and tables for the day, while another was scrubbing away at some empty bottles with a rag that looked as filthy as anything could possibly get. Tom the Barman bowed to Hermione when he saw her, and Hermione wished him a pleasant morning. The bricks were tapped in the right order, and the colourful cobbled streets of Diagon Alley were revealed. 

Hermione swiftly covered the short walk to The Pestle and The Mortar. She stowed her wand in her bag, smoothed her hair down, and pushed the door open. 

"Right on time," Mr. Blak twinkled, "Wonderful."

"Good morning," Hermione said as an answer. 

"Well, you can head back," Mr. Blak pulled a crate toward himself, "Your task for today is Polyjuice potion. You're required to make two batches, ten flasks to each. It's for the Ministry, and they require it by next month."

Hermione nodded, Polyjuice was child's play for her. Seeing as Mr. Blak had nothing else to say, Hermione turned and walked to the back of the place. 

Two long benches covered the opposite walls of the space, with two firepits in each. A teetering stack of black cauldrons stood on the farthest end of the left table. On the right, at the end, was a door. Hermione assumed it to be the ingredients cupboard. Another door which stood ajar led to the back garden. Hermione spotted Mandrakes and a Dragonwill tree, and a lone maple tree whose leaves rustled in the most calming way. Hermione left the door slightly open so that fresh air could penetrate the workspace.

Polyjuice...the first thing she would need to get started on was Lacewing flies, which would need stewing for twenty one days. 

Hermione rolled the sleeves of her shirt up. She had made the mistake of wearing a white one. It would undoubtedly be stained by the end of the day. Grabbing a hair tie from her bag, she managed to bundle her hair up and keep it in place so that it wouldn't bother her while she worked. 

With a wave of her wand, a firepit on the left table sputtered to life, and Hermione placed one of the cauldrons on it. After a little rummaging in the ingredients cupboard, she found a large jar with Lacewing flies in it. She measured out the required quantity, and while doing so she heard the front door open and close, signalled by the tinkling of the bell. 

She didn't look up to see who was walking towards the work area. 

But the other person's footsteps stopped abruptly a few feet away from Hermione. 

"You!"

Hermione dropped an excess of the Lacewing flies into her cauldron with a little squeak of surprise. Her hands had slipped from around the jar. Cursing profusely, she scooped the excess back out, and closed the jar.