The English Rose

Curiouser and Curiouser

The English Rose was dark and quiet as it sat closed for the evening. Pumpkins, friendly ghosts and autumn colored leaf wreaths adorned the front of the building. The shop was always known for its festive decorations and new ownership wouldn't stop the tradition from continuing. Hermione had always been a fan of fall, Halloween and if she were being honest with herself, any and all holiday celebrations. She couldn't help but get swept up in decorating for every occasion possible. She had been at the Rose for six months now and this was the first holiday she would celebrate there. Hermione even convinced her Grandfather that he must dress up in a matching outfit with her on Halloween so they could give candy out to trick or treaters.

After closing up the shop, Hermione retired to her apartment and was sitting in her favorite armchair, outfitted in fall themed pajamas, watching a horror movie while sipping from a nice warm cup of cider. The only holiday that could top Halloween for Hermione was Christmas and she was already making plans for the Rose. "No, I can't start thinking about Christmas," Hermione scolded herself. She always had a particularly bad habit of rushing through the year and she was determined to stop and enjoy every celebration this year. The start of her new life came just as she was turning 30. She was determined to make her 30th year, the best one yet. Her grandfather and Ginny got together to plan a surprise birthday for her and it was more than Hermione could ask for, her girlfriend even made a surprise appearance for her special day. After Laura's trip during summer, their relationship had remained stable. They FaceTimed regularly and Laura made the occasional trip from the city to come out for a visit. Laura was currently out of the country for work and Hermione was feeling an empty spot from the lack of FaceTime. Spending time dwelling on her relationship was not how Hermione wanted to spend this crisp fall evening. She walked over to the window in the living room and cracked it, letting in the fall breeze. She inhaled deeply, clearing her head and resetting herself.

Hermione stood looking out the window and appreciated how the trees were all changing into their autumnal uniform. Just then, Hermione had noticed a familiar being that she had only glimpsed once. The short curly headed book lover was walking down the street opposite the bookstore with another lady. She was taller with blonde hair and looked very intimidating. "I guess she must live around here. Nobody comes to this little city for anything else and the shops are all closed for the evening." Hermione's head was swirling with this new information or really lack of information but then she remembered, the books were due in the box tomorrow. It was curious that she was walking down the street tonight when she was meant to be picking up her books the next evening. She shook her mind clear and headed away from the window when the women were out of sight. Walking into the spare bedroom that Hermione was using as her self proclaimed book room, she saw the piles of favorite books she received from her writing companion. She was up to a total of 20 books and had honestly loved every single one of them. The writer had also not returned any of Hermione's favorite books either. "I wonder if she's ever going to want these back." Hermione thought to herself, sitting down at her desk and pulling out all of the letters. Running her finger down the spines of all of the books she had received the past few months, the pile had really puzzled Hermione. She was desperate to know anything and everything about this woman but their letters remained superficial, cordial and about the books being sent. She still had yet to learn the woman's name. The only clues Hermione was given about this woman was through the books she received and all the notes the writer had crafted in the margins of the books.

From the margins she had come to find out that the person was born in the winter, she loved the color black and she had an affinity for stories with a female protagonist. She also loved period pieces and stories that seemed as if all hope would be lost forever. There was not much information at all to go on, especially throwing in the fact that every round of books contained a children's story. Hermione had never been both perplexed and intrigued by one person in her entire 30 years of life.