Thick Glittering Gold

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There's a pub in Surrey called Cerberus that she knows well. It's where she and Harry had their first date. It's where Draco and Harry first found each other. So, when she walks through the door with red, splotchy cheeks and wet eyes, Hermione feels safe and comfortable despite the raging emotions within her.

She sits at the bar and grabs a laminated menu with various potion concoctions on it. Things to make you forget, brews to make you happy, blends to lower your inhibitions... she doesn't need any of these things. They won't help her process everything she's learned tonight and she needs a clear head. Perhaps one drink, but mostly she wants the noise of the pub and the blanket of bliss that tends to weave itself through the pub's patrons.

Every time the bell over the door chimes, a breeze sweeps through the pub and sends a shiver up her spine. She didn't consider grabbing a cloak before leaving and so she's left in the pub with Harry's old Chudley Cannons tee shirt and a pair of jeans. The cold seeps into her skin and she trembles as the bartender makes his way over to her.

"Hermione Granger," he greets her with a genial smile as he tosses an old rag over his shoulder. She vaguely remembers his face, but his name eludes her entirely. "You've made quite the ruckus in The Prophet lately. Draco Malfoy, yeah?"

She grimaces and wipes the last of her tears away from the corner of her eyes. Great. She's to contend with being a war heroine with a personal life on top of everything else tonight. Hermione chews on her lip.

"I'd like a whisky, please – no fire." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the few galleons she'd brought with her. "However much this can buy me."

The bartender's eyes sparkle. "First round is on the house."

She has a drink in her hand in under a minute and it's tossed back in small, quick sips. The warmth of the alcohol does a fine job heating up her cold body and while the sting of it slides through her, Hermione closes her eyes and enjoys the burn.

"Do you want to talk about what's got you so sad, love?"

The bartender is wiping down a spot in front of her. The tendons in his arms stick out against the bulky muscles of his forearms and biceps. Hermione raises her eyes to his face. He's not a bad looking bloke, really. His dark hair is kept coifed and he's maintaining a very short beard overtop a sharp jaw. The smile he offers her is pretty, almost gleaming like one might see in the movies. No doubt he is tipped a certain amount simply for being easy to look at.

She returns his smile with a small thing of her own. "Do you know this is my first time out to a pub on my own?"

Even as she says the words, she caught in wonder that she's never really enjoyed a night out on her own, not ever. First it was Ron, or her friends, but then it was Harry and Draco. This is the first time she's been able to enjoy her own company and that, in itself, is both terrifying and thrilling. She's such an adult now, though, that she doesn't think she has it in her to behave like her friends were wont to do when they enjoyed bar crawls. No, those times had passed her by and so as she enjoys her own company, she's resigned to being thoughtful about how she chooses to engage with the world around her.

If she had a timeturner, perhaps it would be different. She muses for a moment about how much she can change if given half the chance. And then her mind, against all of her better judgment, flies to Harry and to Draco and the way she'd come together with them. Would it have happened if she could change the past?

If the bartender is surprised that she's been so sheltered, he doesn't comment. Instead, he tosses his rag into a bin and slides a second whisky toward her.

"The divorce rates in post-war Britain are the highest in history, of any country in the world, per capita." Hermione sips on the amber liquid. She hisses against the numbing burn of it and smiles at the bartender's dumbfounded expression. "Everyone was so relieved that they didn't die, we all just jumped into the first relationship that made us feel good."

Fourteen Thousand GalleonsOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora