Playing with Fire

Chapter 60

Traveling by floo powder wasn't nearly as dangerous and rough as Barty always told her, since he thought it too dangerous for the baby. Sure, it could be dangerous if one didn't keep the limbs close to the body and the pronunciation of the destiny should be very clear, but Hermione had used Fireplaces as a means of travel more than enough to know how to use them safely. With a large hood covering her face and a cloak that covered her body, she landed in Flourish and Blotts, the largest bookshop of Diagon Alley. It was a shop where Hermione could entertain herself for hours if she let herself, but today she wasn't here for the books. She wanted to buy baby clothes.

It was a good ten minute walk to the small shop filled with all sorts of things for baby's and toddlers. Fake wands, tiny toy brooms, house-elf dolls, balloons that had moving faces, and a Quidditch board game with tiny brooms and tiny players soaring over the board were some of the things that caught Hermione's eye. The walls were completely covered with colored clothes, scarfs, mittens, hats, and shoes for little children.

"Good afternoon, can I help you?" a friendly-looking old lady with silver hair and a long flowery dress asked.

"Oh, well, I'm about to give birth to a baby, and really want to buy it some special things. And clothes of course," Hermione said with a higher pitched voice, just to be safe.

"Congratulations! Your first?" the lady asked.

"Yes, very exciting. So obviously I want my baby to have whatever it needs, money doesn't matter," Hermione said, her hand unconsciously stroking her swollen belly.

"Can I take your cloak, ma'am? And perhaps offer you a cup of tea?"

"Tea sounds lovely, thank you. But I'd rather keep my cloak on if that's alright."

Hermione quickly checked if her hood was still in place, so that it would cover at least her eyes. But in the process, her sleeves fell down her arms, revealing the fresh Dark Mark that was tattood on her left arm. Hermione concealed the Mark again as quickly as she could, but the old lady didn't seem to notice. Or she pretended not to notice.

"Would you like milk in your tea?" she just asked kindly.

"Yes, please," Hermione smiled, tough it was the smile of someone who had just been caught doing something illegal.

"Feel free to look around while I fetch your tea," the lady said, and she left the shop to fetch the tea.

Hermione already had the feeling that she was going to take half the stuff in the shop home with her. A little bed for the baby, lots of stuffed animals, toys for when the baby would be a bit older... She was rich now, and the best thing she could spend her money on was the baby. She briefly closed her eyes to daydream about the arrival of her little one, but she was roughly torn out of her dream when someone slammed the door to the shop open. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw a tall man standing in the doorway with his wand at the ready. A tall, dark man whom she knew by the name of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Granger," he breathed, approaching her carefully as if she was a rabbit he had to catch that he could easily scare away.

"That's not my name," Hermione said calmly, though she did take a step back.

"The lady recognized you. We have been waiting for this moment for so long, for a moment in which you were alone. We are here to help you," Kingsley explained.

He looked awful. He used to be such an impressive and charismatic person, with his neat and expensive clothes and his deep voice, but now he looked like a homeless man who hadn't slept well in years.

"We? Who is 'we'?" Hermione asked curiously.

"The Order, of course. You don't have to be scared. We will help you. The Death Eaters won't find you," Kingsley said, extending a hand as if Hermione would take it and leave with him.