Teapaper

     It took three more Sunday shifts and a grand total of forty-one in-store customers for Hermione to relax again at the sound of the bell above the door and to stop holding her breath waiting for them to talk. Sunday number four and the first customer of the day did not follow the instructions on relaxing Hermione.

    “Hello welcome to-“

    “Are you having me on?” It was the voice again in all its smooth baritone glory. And it was annoyed.

    “I-I”m sorry?” She stammered placing her book of the day down with the pages on the table. Younger Hermione would scream.

    “Are. You. Having. Me. On. Having a laugh? Pretending you don’t recognize me?” The voice was much closer now. Standing right up at the register and leaning in. She could smell his aftershave. It made her head swim.

    “You do sound like someone I used to know. But he uh, died. Why do you ask?” Hermione swallowed and did her best to look him in the eye while nibbling on her upper lip. At least she looked where she assumed his face was.

    A small growl of frustration loosed from the man’s throat.

    “Because Hermione fucking Granger doesn’t get to do everything she did and then show up in a bloody bookshop as a clerk and pretend she doesn’t recognize me.” A fist slammed on the table between them making a solid thud.

    Fight or flight reflexes are strange things. For a normal person, freeze was also a viable option that many people used but for Hermione flight was really the only thing that still worked right. In fact, it worked excellently as her body flung itself backwards off the stool as if lightning had struck. She predictably reached out blindly for a handhold only to catch air and fall straight to the ground right on to her tailbone.

    “Owww.” She groaned, only distracted by pain for but a moment.

    “Well?” It was him again. Without question it was him. Still an arse. Definitely him though.

    “Come ‘round the till then I suppose. Lock the door and flip the sign if you would.” She sighed. She stood up and brushed herself off as the click of the lock sounded in the bookshop along with the gentle tap of the sign being turned.

    Once she was standing steadily again it was impossible to ignore the presence standing in front of her.

    “Hello Severus.” She gave an awkward excuse for a smile.

    “Not good enough.”

    “Worth a shot. To be honest I did and didn’t recognize you. I thought my ears were going crazy- or I was.” She sighed.

    Only silence met her admission.

    “I can’t see.”

    There was silence for a moment then she heard the rustle of her book being picked up. Did he think she was using braille for fun? It was by far the most infuriating thing she had ever learned- and it was expensive to boot.

    “I suppose I had better put on some tea. Put my bookmark in that will you? The one with the owl?” Stepping forward she squeezed past him where he stood rooted to the spot behind her counter staring at her book. Unless he’d learned braille in the past few years then maybe he was reading it.

    She hoped not- she was in a raunchy chapter that involved an American cowboy and a kitchen table.

    Making her way to the back of the shop she opened the door that led up to her flat. She was already unlocking the top door before she heard footsteps on the stairs below.

    “Come along then, I don’t bite.” She said and pushed the door open to the small studio flat she called home. With a flick of her wand, she set the kettle to fill then boil and kicked off her shoes, placing them neatly by the door.

    She could feel him standing behind her, taking in the view of her flat. She knew what he saw: bare walls, no tv, sparse furniture except for the basics. Easy wide walking areas accompanied what she knew were googly eyes stuck to her cabinets and other things to remind her where things were because sometimes her head was a bit too much like knotted spaghetti to remember. They were much cheaper than a braille label maker and anyway the idea of how silly it must look made her laugh.

    “You’re blind.” Severus said at last.

    “Well spotted. You may as well sit down while I get the tea.” She turned towards the kitchen and set off to do just that.

    It was odd- having someone else in her flat. It made the place feel that much smaller and her that much clumsier.

    “Do you want-“

    “Help?” She turned and smiled in his direction. “No. Thank you. Just blind, not an invalid. Sit please, I don’t need to be tripping over you.”

     “Talk.”