Tuition Money | By : cpetnm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 53031 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A.N. Hello, readers! I've started this story with an idea and I'm not sure exactly where it will go, but I think it will be fun.
Hermione stared at the invoice for her semester at the Wizarding University of Great Brittain.
Paid: 1009 Galleons. Owed: 1991 Galleons. Fuck. Fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck.
She’d been one of one hundred wizards and witches admitted to the university from around the world. After the war, she’d gone back to Hogwarts for her seventh year. With so few students returning, she’d had time to write and write about her interpretation of the Deathly Hallows. The professors had helped her edit her writing into a slim volume of literary analysis and a first hand account of her experience with the artifacts. The book had been well received, but hadn’t sold as well as she’d hoped. The proceeds from the book had paid for part of her education, but money was in short supply in the wizarding world and people weren’t exactly buying books when they needed money to help put their lives back together.
After Hermione found her parents in Australia, they decided to continue their “retirement” down under. Hermione had set them up financially with the sale of the practice and their investments. She didn’t ask them for help and they didn’t offer. It was a possibility that the relationship she’d once had with them was damaged more than she cared to admit.
How am I going to pay for this?
Draco had half an hour before his Healing Potions class and he needed caffeine. He ducked into a coffee shop for a quick cup of coffee. He stood in line behind the other sleep-deprived students, thinking about the assignment he was going to submit. When it was his turn, he looked up to find himself looking at Hermione Granger. She wore an apron and seemed just as surprised to see him.
“What can I get you?” she finally asked.
“Black coffee, please.”
Even at Hogwarts, he’d never been able to ignore her. Seeing her on this morning, pouring coffee and getting baked goods for customers gave him a thrill. He had no doubt he would make this part of his regular morning routine.
Fucking smarmy ferret!
Malfoy had thrown her off her game at work. She’d been like a well-oiled machine, getting coffee and muffins, taking money and giving out change, when that ridiculously handsome face was staring at her with an expression of bewilderment and then…glee? He was probably inwardly crowing that she was serving coffee like a modern day wench. Arsehole.
Hermione grabbed her book bag and ran from the coffee shop to her first class of the day, Architectural Transfiguration.
The Wizarding University of Great Brittain was one of two post secondary wizarding schools in Europe. After the difficulty of the war and her year on the run, Hermione couldn’t imagine being stressed by something as banal as tuition money, but she loved her classes. She knew she could get a job at the Ministry if she couldn’t afford school, but her goal was to further her education. She knew she had so much to learn.
Finding out that Draco Malfoy had also been accepted to the WUofGB had been unexpected, until she toured the campus and found the Malfoy name on two buildings, a sculpture and a section of the library. Of course he was admitted. His family had clearly financed enough to allow him entrance into the prestigious university.
Hermione made her way to the library to get in some studying after her last class of the day. She’d stayed up studying the night before, woke at five a.m. to be at work by six a.m., worked until just before ten a.m., went to two classes back to back, had a sandwich underneath a tree while she read, went to a long potions lab in the afternoon and knew if she didn’t start studying now, she’d never be prepared for her classes this week.
She cleared her mind and began unpacking her books.
Draco made his way to The Oasis, the coffee shop where he’d seen Granger working the previous day. With any luck, she’d be there this morning and he planned on getting a seat and watching her work.
He stepped into the café, a full two hours before his first class at nine a.m. Granger wore her long hair in a French braid, jeans and a navy blue long sleeve v-neck tee that hugged her curves. Her look was simple. Utilitarian.
The shop was fairly empty and he was able to step right up to the counter. She didn’t smile at him, but she also didn’t scowl.
“What can I get you, Malfoy?”
“Black coffee and a blueberry muffin,” he said, taking a few coins out of his pocket.
She got his order and took his money, then gave him change. He took his coffee and muffin and sat at a table, getting out a book to peruse as he covertly studied his favorite Muggle-born.
Hermione knew Malfoy was watching her. She didn’t catch him looking at her, but she felt the tickle of eyes studying her. Since they were eleven years old, he’d watched her. She knew he did and figured she was some kind of circus oddity to him. It certainly wasn’t any kind of real interest, to her knowledge.
She had an earlier class and said goodbye to the other employee, a middle-aged witch named Dawn, and hastily made her way from the shop.
Draco grabbed his things and followed Hermione, easily catching up with her.
“Where are you off to this fine morning?” he asked conversationally. She’d always been high strung, but her behavior was beyond that. She was stressed.
“Class,” she said, continuing her brisk pace. He’d done this when he was younger, followed her and engaged her in conversation, only to insult her when he was in earshot of his friends. She’d learned that outright ignoring him made him pursue her even more doggedly, so she would speak to him in a clipped way.
“Why are you working at that café? The work load here is tremendous.”
“Why do you think, Malfoy?” What a prat! She needed the money, obviously.
Finally, she reached her building and opened the heavy door. Unfortunately, he followed her.
“You won’t be able to pay for school with what you make there.”
Hermione finally turned her whiskey-colored eyes on him. She didn’t look angry, just resigned and kind of dejected.
“I know. It’s a last ditch effort, until I can get a job that will cover my tuitition.”
With that, she entered a classroom, the door closing behind her. He didn’t follow her, although he wanted to. An idea wormed its way into his mind. She’d balk at first, but he knew she’d come around.
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