Hermione had been crossing T's and dotting I's in the ledger book for the past hour. Literally. She was combing through the financials trying to keep busy and trying to have a good reason for not filing books.
Because he came back.
Draco Malfoy was sitting in the lounge area of the fiction section, thumbing through a copy of the first book in a series that Hermione had heard only wonderful things about. She had yet to pick it up herself, but from the twenty minutes that Draco had spent on it, she could guess that it was brilliant.
He had entered the shop while she was at the register with a customer, and proceeded directly to the stacks to her left. She was grateful that he saved her from any awkward waving or chipper "good morning" banter by ignoring her completely, but now she was trying desperately to not notice him there. She could see the top of his head from in between the 4th and 5th shelves, and could see his hands turning pages from in between the shelves below that.
She had tried turning her back to him, so she wouldn't have to wave hello from across the store, or worse - be caught staring. But she soon found that not keeping an eye on him was worse. He could sneak up on her then.
His long fingers turned a page. She sighed. His hair fell into his eyes again and she saw his hand push it back.
"Miss?"
Hermione snapped her eyes to the register. A small elderly woman stood at the counter. How had she snuck up on her?
"Yes? What can I help you with?" Hermione smiled.
"I was hoping you could help me retrieve a Gerby Ganfried novel? I believe it is on a top shelf."
Hermione closed her eyes. Gerby Ganfried was a fiction writer. And fiction books were generally found in the fiction section, to her left. And Cornerstone Books had a charm placed on it to prevent summoning books, to help ward off theft. She pasted on a grin.
Hermione led the way into the fiction section, averting her eyes from the chair in the corner. She conjured a rolling ladder to reach the top shelf that held the "G" authors, and she thanked Merlin that she chose to wear Muggle jeans today instead of a skirt.
"Which Ganfried novel were you thinking of?" Hermione began to climb the ladder.
"Dear, would you mind reading the titles to me?"
Hermione took a breath. She usually loved helping customers, chatting with them about their selections and giving opinions. She would never have found this woman as frustrating if Draco Malfoy wasn't fifteen feet from her, possibly watching her.
"We have Gertrude and Gwen and the Gargantuan Grindylow. And then Yaris, Yeigh, and the Yellow Yarn - "
"Oh, the Yellow Yarn Doll! Oh, what a lovely book!" the old woman said.
"Would you like me to pull it down for you?" Hermione turned over her shoulder to address the woman, but her gaze landed on Draco. He was smiling down at his book, laughing at her. She felt hot.
"Oh, no, dear. I've already read it. Can you read me the other titles?"
Hermione read the rest of the shelf to her. Then she read the first half of the shelf again. Eventually the woman - Beatrice, Hermione soon learned, as she had supplied that information while telling her about her entire childhood - asked her to pull down seven different copies so she could read the backs of them. She charmed the books to hover as she pulled them from the shelf, but Hermione still had to twist to reach the last three, and she could feel her shirt lift from the waistband of her jeans as she reached for each book. She hoped her midriff wasn't showing, and she hoped Draco's attention was refocused on his book.
"Oh, thank you so much dear!" Beatrice squeaked as Hermione descended the last rung of the ladder. She turned to find Draco's chair empty, and felt even more annoyed with Beatrice that she had ruined her final Draco-watching minutes of his visit.
She prepared a side table and chair for Beatrice to sit and peruse the books, and returned to the register. Hermione sighed in relief to find that there wasn't a line forming in her absence. The shop was usually very calm and not very busy, but there were times that Hermione needed to call Morty down from his flat upstairs to help. She turned around to put the ledgers away and when she faced the register counter again she found Draco leaning against it. Her blood pounded in her ears.
"Malfoy." She greeted him. She smoothed down her shirt. "Did you end up liking the new Lance Gainsworth series?" The regret hit her instantaneously. How would she know what book he was reading earlier unless she'd been watching him?
It seemed the same thought crossed his mind as his eyebrow gave the slightest twitch upwards and a glint appeared in his eyes. He pulled the Gainsworth book he was reading earlier from below her sight line and tossed it on the counter.
"I'm not sure yet," he said, staring at the book. "But I thought I might as well purchase it, since I've already dog-eared the pages."
Hermione's hands paused halfway to taking the book. Her eyes snapped up to his. Dog-earing pages was the foulest thing one could possibly-
"Relax, Granger." He smirked at her. He was joking. Relief flooded into her veins like oxygen. She puffed a small laugh and tried to hide her smile. She pulled the ledger back onto the desk and began writing his receipt, billing the purchase to the family account. There were only three seconds of silence before she couldn't stand it any longer and delved into small talk.
"I haven't been able to start this series yet, but I absolutely loved his Undesirable series," she said without looking up at him.
"Really. What did you like about it?"
She met his eyes. He was looking at her like he had at Hogwarts, the faint edge of a smirk and the hint of an insult in his eyes.
"Well," she began, pushing the hair away from her face. "I appreciate his style. Each novel from the perspective of a different Undesirable, circling around the same moments until they finally coalesce into clarity –"
"I would argue that telling the same story over and over again is tedious," he said. "You get nowhere if you are only stuck on one moment."
He was staring directly into her eyes, waiting for her response. She felt like she was missing something.
"I... I disagree." She shook her head to clear it. "It isn't the same moment because you are getting the scene from seven different angles, and learning something new every time it is revisited." She could hear Lavender Brown's voice in her ear, something about agreeing with everything a boy says...
"I found it terribly dull." Draco shifted his weight, making him taller if possible. "The storylines were stale, the characters were unimaginative, and I couldn't connect with that dolt of an Auror running around, mucking up everything..."
While he spoke, Hermione opened her mouth, and closed it. Opened it again and made a small squeaking sound. He was decimating everything she loved about that series.
"I suppose he was a bit, er...underwritten," Hermione lied.
"For being the only character to appear in all seven books, I found that he was remarkably uninteresting," Draco said. His voice was so lazy and dispassionate. "The Auror had no outside family or friends, so what are we supposed to get from seven novels where he's always two steps behind the Undesirables the entire time –"
"Exactly!" She squawked. "That's what makes good drama, Malfoy! The Auror can't be omniscient, or there would be no story!"
"That's the other thing," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Why seven novels? Can't it be condensed at all? What about a trilogy? Or even better – one novel with seven perspectives, if you even need them all –"
"One novel! Fit all of that information into one novel –?"
"If you could call it 'information' –"
"Well, Malfoy, you must have liked something about it if you read all seven books and –"
"I didn't. I read two of them."
Hermione gasped, eyes wide. He reached for a mint from the dish on the counter. He started to twist it between his fingers while watching her.
"You only read two! How can you even comment on the series then! The first two are almost juvenile in comparison to the third and fourth –"
"Oh, no," he said. "I read the first and the last."
Hermione gaped at him. She had always assumed he was intelligent due to his marks in school. In fact, when reaching for reasons why they would get on so well, one of the clearest reasons was their shared love of knowledge and always being right. She felt betrayed somehow.
"I... I don't even know how to respond to that." She shook her head at the counter. She finished the receipt, jabbing the quill into the ink pot, and grabbed a bag to stuff his book into. She ignored his eyes and the way his fingers played with the unwrapped mint.
"It's just an opinion, Granger." He sounded quite pleased with himself.
"Well, it's the wrong opinion," she mumbled. He laughed. Under other circumstances the sound of it would have sent electricity running through her veins.
She held the bag out to him, willing him to take it and leave.
"Ya know, Granger," he said. He leaned forward on the counter, laying his forearms flat and clasping his hands, like he was coming down to her level. "You may have just reminded me why I loathe this Grainsword so much –"
"Gainsworth," she corrected, clenching her fist around the bag.
"—Maybe I don't want the new book after all." His eyes flitted back and forth between her eyes, something glinting in them.
She'd had enough. She shoved the bag into his chest and pressed it there as she hissed, "You will take this damn book, Malfoy, and you will read it, and you will love it. And when you are done you will pick up the second book of the Undesirable series and you will read that, and then the third, and then the fourth and so on until you have read enough to make intelligent remarks about them."
She sucked in her first breath and stared him down, her chest heaving. His eyes drifted over her entire face before his lips stretched into a smirk.
"There she is," he whispered. Hermione blinked. He stood up straight, taking the bag from where she still had it pressed into his chest. "Thought we lost you, Granger."
A blush spread up her jaw, warming her face. She searched him for an answer for the last five minutes, but only watched him pop the mint in his mouth, lift a brow at her, and turn to walk out.