Hermione was, to say the least, excited.

She lugged her trunk up the stairs of the apartment building to the third floor. Agreed, it was physically exhausting especially because this was her fourth time climbing up but her spirits were still high, and she walked with a little spring in her step and smiled at anyone who she crossed paths with. Yes, she could use her wand, but the physical strain was a welcome distraction.

Even the weather outside reflected her mood. The sky was a bright, clear blue, interspersed by a few fluffy white clouds. The sun shone crisply down on the world below. 

The trunk was the last of her possessions, the rest of the bags were already upstairs. Reaching her door, she shoved the trunk inside and then took a puff of air.

"Miss Granger?"

She turned around too quickly, and stubbed her toe on the doorframe in the process. She swore violently as she hopped about on one foot. 

"Yes Mrs. Settington?" She managed to say. When her toe stopped throbbing, she peeked out into the hallway. 

"Here is your spare key," Mrs. Settington was a plump woman with a jovial face, twinkling brown eyes and short brown hair, greying at a few spots. Her jovial and motherly nature reminded Hermione of Molly Weasley. The climb up to the third floor had undoubtedly done it's number on the woman, for she stood with one hand on her hip, taking puffing breaths of air and leaning against the door.

"Thank you," Hermione said, taking the key, "would you perhaps care for some water? You look tired."

"Oh no, thank you very much," Mrs. Settington waved Hermione off, "do ring me up if you require any help while unpacking. I've said this before and I'm saying it again, it really is an honor to have you here. I can't wait to tell my grandchildren, they'll be so excited to meet you if they can! Ah well, I'll be off."

"Alright, thank you," Hermione said again, and gave the woman a kind smile which was graciously returned.

"Bless my soul, I nearly forgot," Mrs. Settington slapped her forehead with the palm of her left hand and chuckled, "my memory is getting lousy nowadays, you know? I think it's due to old age, what do you think?"

"Oh, um," Hermione mumbled, trying very hard to hide an amused smile. 

"Well, I shouldn't bother you with this," Mrs. Settington chuckled again and waved her hand, "your roommate will be arriving today as well, although I must admit I don't know when."

"R-roommate?" Hermione stuttered, but before she could form a coherent question to ask for further details, Mrs. Settington had began shuffling back to the stairs and was soon out of sight.

Roommate.

How could Mrs. Settington have forgotten to mention such an important thing?

Memory, she told herself.

This was certainly unexpected.

She had been hoping to be by herself after-

She stopped herself.

This was a good day. She wasn't about to ruin it by thinking about a certain redhead. Not today. 

Hermione shut the door and turned to face the apartment.

It wasn't much, but it was sufficient. There was a medium sized kitchen, with two bedrooms on either side, a living room and a bathroom. There was a large fireplace which was, as Mrs. Settington had informed her the day she came to see this place, connected to the floo network. The bare necessities such as the couches in the living room, the beds, kitchen cabinets and the wardrobes were already present. She exhaled. She had the whole day to herself, provided that her roommate arrived late. On second thoughts, she hoped and prayed that her roommate wouldn't arrive at all.

The bedroom on the right had a great view of the park across the road, so that was the one she chose. The bags were pushed and shoved and slid across the floor to the bedroom, accompanied by muttered curses and subtle swearing. There, she began unpacking. 

Hermione had been approved for her job application at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in the records section. Yes, it seemed a dull job. But Hermione hoped to make progress from there. She hadn't originally decided on moving out from her parents' house, but her mum had insisted that she move out and get her own place. Hermione had been hesitant, with her parents still recovering from the obliviation and memory restoration. But in the end she had agreed. Then her job had been confirmed, so even she had been fairly excited to start her own life. Even after-

No, stop it. Second time today, get it together. 

She took in a large gulp of air, and continued with her task of unpacking.

Four hours and thirty seven minutes later, she was done. She stowed the empty bags and trunk under her bed and looked around. Her bedroom was perfect, neat, clean, and with a bookshelf. She had to conjure the bookshelf up because it hadn't been present before. The crockery she had brought with her was in its place. Now all that was left to do was to buy some groceries, make dinner without burning the house down, and get to bed.

Hermione fished around her bag for muggle money, and on finding it shoved it into her pocket. She grabbed a bag and headed out the door and to the street below. It was nearly five in the evening now, but the sun still cast its weak rays down. There was a chilly breeze, however, and Hermione shivered and pulled her coat tighter around herself. Her wand was in the back pocket of her jeans. Since after the war, she couldn't bring herself to go anywhere without it. 

The grocery store was full of people, and Hermione winced. She didn't do well with crowds anymore. Keeping her head held down and her eyes fixed firmly on the floor, she walked through the aisles and gathered what she needed. She lingered near the ice cream section, and finally decided on buying a large tub of chocolate ice cream. She tried to calm herself down by humming to herself, and thinking about other things.

Hermione had agreed to meet Harry and Ginny tomorrow for dinner at Godric's Hollow after work. It had required immense persuasion on Ginny's part, but Hermione had eventually agreed. Even George had agreed to join them, which was reason enough for Hermione to want to go. She hadn't seen George since…. Hermione swallowed. Since Fred. 

Tomorrow would be her first day at the Ministry, she couldn't afford to be late on her first day. She also had to decide on what to wear. She had never been the kind to dress to impress, but tomorrow was important, and she'd do anything to make a good first impression. She wondered who she would be working with. She thought that being a war heroine and owning fancy titles such as the Brightest Witch of Her Age weren't enough.

Her thoughts now wandered to more pressing matters. Roommate. Hermione wondered what she would be like. She didn't particularly want her to be the 'stay up late braiding each other's hair' kind, but she did hope that they could be friends. Maybe even good friends, who knows? 

When the bag got heavy, Hermione made her way to the counter. A flash of silver caught her eye, and she turned toward the fruits' aisle. It couldn't be, could it? In a muggle grocery store, of all places. No, she was definitely mistaken. Maybe she was finally going mad. Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she paid the money and walked out of the door. She stopped by at a pharmacy to buy sanitary pads, then continued. 

The wind outside was icier now, and Hermione shivered and began walking faster in hopes to keep warm. The warmth of the apartment building's lobby was very welcome.

"Been shopping Miss Granger?" Mrs. Settington walked over to her and surveyed her, "you haven't got any warming charms on you, I should have thought you would have done that!"

"Oh, I-um," Hermione flushed and looked down at her shoes, "I didn't think about it."

"Alright then, hurry on," Mrs. Settington said, returning to arranging the flowers in her desk case, "also, your roommate arrived some time ago."

Hermione groaned internally. So much for one peaceful day. Nonetheless, she climbed up the stairs.

She shut the front door and dropped the bag onto one of the couches, flexing her fingers to get the blood flowing in them again . She groped around in it for the frozen chicken she had bought. Looking around, she noticed that the second bedroom's door was closed, and she could hear the shower running in the bathroom. She realised with a scoff that one of the couches was missing, which meant that her roommate had probably dragged it to their room. She hadn't even met the person, but she already felt the dislike starting to grow. There was some kind of funny smell in the air. Hermione raised her nose a little higher and took a cautious whiff. It smelt...citrusy. And like cologne. 

Hermione paled. 

For Merlin knows what reason, she hadn't anticipated even for a second that her roommate might be, well, a boy. She had just naturally assumed it would be a girl.

Oh, Merlin.

She ran her hands over her face, and proceeded to pinch the bridge of her nose. 

It doesn't matter.

She convinced herself that, even if it was a boy, it wouldn't matter. Because she would be at work most of the day. And just because they were roommates didn't mean they had to talk to each other. Right?

Exhaling harshly, Hermione made her way to the kitchen. She decided on putting the fruits, ice cream and packets of frozen food into the refrigerator, and pulled open the refrigerator door. To her surprise, there were already some things in it. 

The entire upper shelf was filled with crisp and fresh looking green apples. The scent was sweet and enticing. There were two bottles of milk, and what looked like, Hermione wrinkled her nose at the realisation, a bottle of alcohol. She couldn't recognise what kind it was, because she didn't, and wouldn't, drink. Maybe it was firewhiskey. All her hopes of having a bearable roommate faded away. 

Anyways. She sighed, defeated. So much for wanting a companion.

She started the stove and got out her pan. She could use her wand, yes, but sometimes she enjoyed cooking the muggle way. She hummed tunelessly to herself, and a few minutes later seated herself at the small kitchen table and began eating. The thought of making some dinner for her roommate as well had entered her mind, but Hermione decided against it. She didn't want to get too friendly, because she knew that being friendly meant developing expectations, and expectations meant getting hurt. Someone always got hurt in the end, no matter how hard she tried. Besides, who knows what kind of person he would be? He could be a creep, and maybe Hermione would move out tomorrow. Or kick him out. Either of the two.

She ate in silence, struggling to keep her mind blank. 

Just as she was about to stand and wash her plate, she heard the bathroom door click open. She took a deep breath. Somehow, she felt like a small child, on her first day at nursery school, anxious about meeting the other kids. Hermione made up her mind, and turned around with a small smile on her face. 

Her smile vanished when she saw the boy standing in the living room. Water dripped steadily from his brown hair. Hermione assumed it was curly when dry. He had dark, milk-chocolate colored skin and a kind looking face. His eyes, though, were grey and stormy, as though he had seen and experienced the worst sorrow imaginable. Hermione noticed another very important detail.

He was clad in only a towel. 

"Um, hi, I guess," he said sheepishly, and even though he wasn't smiling, Hermione could hear the amusement in his voice.

"H-hello," Hermione raised her hand to wave at him, but then realised how stupid that would look and lowered her hand. She silently reprimanded herself when her eyes lingered for too long on his well defined torso.

"Granger, is it not?"

Hermione's head snapped up. His voice, something about it sounded familiar. As though she had heard it somewhere before. She shrugged it off as a trick of her ears, "Yes, Hermione Granger. And you are?"

"I'm Carson, Carson...Bones," Carson extended a hand for her to shake. She shook it gingerly. She was so focused on keeping her eyes averted from his nearly bare form that she didn't notice the flicker of a grimace pass his expression.

"Bones, as in, Susan Bones? Are you related?" Hermione tried to sound curious or inclined to the conversation by the smallest degree.

"Yes, uh," Carson seemed to be awkward and skitterish, "we're... cousins. I'm her father's eldest brother's son."

"Oh," Hermione said, her interest piqued, "I never heard her mention any cousins."

"Our parents didn't get along too well," Carson looked away, and fixed his gaze on a spot on the floor. Silence prevailed for one, two, three seconds.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "I, uh, should probably get dressed."

He turned and began walking to his bedroom. Hermione waged a battle with herself. 

"Have you eaten yet?"

She flushed, embarrassed at having asked that moments after she had vowed not to be friendly. Carson looked at her curiously, then shook his head no, "You don't have to cook for me, though."

"There's a little chicken and salad left, I'll set it out," Hermione waved off his concern and headed back to the kitchen.

She felt a little giddy. 

For all she knew, he was, well, attractive. 

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. Not this again, please. Not again.

This was going to be harder than she had anticipated.

[
What do ya think?

Hopefully what I've written didn't disappoint you, and hopefully you'll read the next chapter.
 
I'll try and upload once a week, although I can't promise a schedule, because you know how school is.  But I shall try.

This is my first fanfiction, so don't hate. Feedback is welcome, and vote and comment if you feel like it.

Hoping to hear from you all,

Love,

Dylan

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