It's a Flourish & Blotts Sort of Morning -- OPEN

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]1174 WORDS FOR nathanyal YUS, success. slipped in a little irony too. DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]Hermione continued to flush throughout the praise she was being given, avoiding eye contact with the man who was being very so gracious. She was not a girl who was overly accustomed to praise. Yes, she received it often enough from teachers and the like, and sometimes even from her friends. But while she was intelligent enough to know that sometimes the things that were said were true, Hermione was also modest enough to try and deflect the praise. Today was a turn of events that Hermione never would have predicted when she woke up this morning. Then again, the meeting with Mr. Cain had not been the only thing that she hadn't expected. Tomorrow she'd be headed for the Burrow, the Weasley family home, and in summers past before Hermione went away for the rest of the summer, her parents would take the day off from their practice and spend the day with their daughter. But when she'd gotten out of best this morning in her red pajamas, and had gone downstairs expecting a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast with marmalade, all she'd found was a note on the table. Her parents expected to be back around six, as they had chosen to go into work today, and when they got home, they'd treat her to dinner. It had stung, yes, but in her heart of hearts, Hermione knew it was simply because the Granger family was growing more distant by the day. Sitting here across from Nathanyal, however, had made the day a bit brighter. As they sat and talked, she couldn't help but feel almost as if she was sitting across from her father. Out of her two parents, Hermione would almost always go to her father when she had an educational question, and more often than not the pair of them would get into a philosophical discussion. Very much like the one she was having now. It certainly made her feel much more comfortable, and this was the kind of conversation that really put her into her element. Minus the compliments, of course. "Mr. Cain, everything you've said is very flattering, but I'm afraid I'm just your average teenage wtich," she said, smiling kindly. "The only difference between me and the other people my age is that I tend to read more often than others." And it was the truth, or rather, it was in Hermione's eyes. There were problems with every generation - this current war was proof enough of that. But, not wishing to dwell on the awful situation that their beloved wizarding world was in, she cleared her throat and turned her mind from the subject. "But I'll still check my mother's collection, and I'll see if I can do anything about finding an original copy for you."

[/color] And she would, too, as soon as she got home.

But he knew the Weasleys, and that was always a comforting thing to know. In reality, the Weasleys were the kindest and best wizarding family that she knew. Anyone who had a liking for them earned a few points in Hermione's eyes, as that also meant that there was almost no way that the man before her was a Death Eater. Anybody who saw them as more than blood-traitors (just the name would normally bring a scowl to her face) had to be worth something, at least. "The Weasleys are very kind people," she agreed wholeheartedly. "I'll actually be going to stay with them for a while this summer, before school starts." She didn't want to really voice the reason out loud, but with the current turbulence in society, it wasn't hard to guess why. Hermione was perfectly aware that in the previous war, muggleborn families had been targeted, and that oftentimes they were the first to get killed. And Hermione had absolutely no intentions of letting her parents get harmed in any way. She loved them far too much to knowingly put them in danger.

Hermione allowed herself another small laugh when another book came soaring out from the shelves and nearly hit Mr. Cain. It truly did do her good to see a house elf being so forward with their master, or in Edwin's case, his companion. Mr. Cain's brief shout reminded her so much of when her father would sometimes bellow at her up the stairs, telling her that supper was ready or something else of that nature. It brought another genuine smile to her face.

She was also extremely pleased to hear that he would allow her to continue looking over the notes for a few days. Hermione's eyes roved the paged hungrily, as if she could determine the secrets and the information they held in mere seconds. Perhaps, she thought, there could be something in here to help with her own personal research. The research that would somehow help her, Harry, and Ron defeat Lord Voldemort. Or, rather, research that would at least help keep them alive. Maybe there was something the Egyptians had to show her that books here in England didn't quite cover. Nevertheless, it was a very exciting prospect. "Thank you so much, Mr. Cain," she thank him sincerely. "It means a great deal to me. I'll have these returned as soon as possible, I promise."

Her eyes also lit up when he mentioned a novel. "Are you writing a book, Mr. Cain?" she questioned brightly, immediately intrigued. It wasn't very often that she met an author - though perhaps she would become one some day if only to just write down all the misadventures she had with her two best friends. Honestly, there was enough drama and excitement that happened at Hogwarts to fill up several volumes. "If you are, I'd absolutely love to read it. What's the subject matter, if I could ask?"

It was then that he stood up, and Hermione looked at him, slightly panicked, and feeling slightly confused. Was he leaving already? Had she said something offensive? She still held the notes rather close, unsure of what to do with them. Did he want to take them back, if he was leaving in such a hurry? The thought made her extremely disappointed. She hadn't wanted to see this encounter end so soon, and so abruptly.

But her worries were alleviated almost immediately, and relief came to her features when he offered her his hand, and a chance to go to tea with him. Hermione wasn't particularly used to such high-society sort of occasions, but Mr. Cain was so polite and dear that she just couldn't deny him. And, after all, she wanted to talk with him more. "It would be an honor, sir," she answered, smiling, as she took his hand and allowed him to help her up. Without really thinking about it, she gently took the notes he'd offered her and slipped them into her bag. While she hadn't gotten a book out of her visit to Flourish and Blotts today, she'd gotten something much better, or at least it was in her opinion.[/div][/style][/td][/tr][/table]

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[nathanyal]

s o t h e r e i s a m o m e n t i n l i f e

when everything becomes perfectly clear and it just

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g79/Juliart/background_black.jpg');,true][cs=2] SHAKES YOU TO THE CORE

[atrb=width,240] Nathanyal stared, bemused, at the young teen. She seemed so very humble, maybe even a slight bit uncomfortable with the fact that he was adorning her with such compliments. Well, he would hold off on them for the rest of their day if need be, but he was an honest man and he was not one to embellish upon the truth. So when he spoke, he spoke words that were often blunt and rather honest. Which was what had endeared him to some and made him slightly dis-likable to others. It mattered not to him, whether a person liked him or not, he was not going to change who he was so that he pleased anyone. It was not in his nature to change, not in his nature to bow down. He nodded to her softly. "My Dear Miss Granger, if it makes you uncomfortable, I shall not speak of your accomplishments before my eyes any longer, instead we will speak of much more comforting topics, topics of scholarly interest if you so desire, which I have a thought as to you do. Being one who, as you coined it so eloquently, someone who reads more often than others. Which, if I might add, is very true. Most do not read as often as people like yourself and myself. For they feel it is a bore or something equally disdainful, shame for them... for they lack the imagination." He said rather pointedly, it was a fact, those who could not find the beauty in words must lack something in the way of creativity. He leaned back, a grand smile on his lips. "Arthur is a rather humorous fellow. His fascination with muggles used to be an issue with me, in school. I was, how do I put this... hm... well, I was everything you'd expect a pureblood boy to be. I was arrogant and foolhardy. But, as time wore on, I met muggle born wizards who astonished me. One of which, I can never repay. She introduced my future wife to me. A very agreeable woman, with a passion and a flare that you would think would have landed her in Gryffindor. But it seemed her unfailing loyalty and sense of duty outdid those other amiable traits. She was a hufflepuff and a fine witch. Little Scot that she was." He said with a chuckle. "I was not as amiable with Arthur until later years, but I am glad that I became his friend, along with Molly. They are, as you said, very kind people. I am glad you have found solace in their friendship as well, along with their slew of rather peppy children." He said with a small chuckle, yes, he'd met nearly all the Weasley children. They were all so unique and yet so very much Arthur and Molly. He waved his hand dismissively when she commented on returning the information. "Do not worry about returning it as soon as you can, read it, enjoy it, breathe it for a while. I do no need it at this point and if something happens to where I do need it, well, it will give you an excuse to divulge in some of my other notes." He said with a small wink, and a very warm chuckle. He nodded then, simply, when she asked about the possibility of a book from him. "Ah, yes, the illustrious novels I wish to write... yes my dear, I am indeed in the midst of writing a book. I am actually pondering upon a title... I would like to think something like... 'The Mysterious Cultures: What Magic Can They Bring?' would suit it well. I am not quite sure yet. Though, I know of it's subject, something I've spent near twenty years gathering information on. Magic from countries and cultures, some modern and some long since left to ruin. I'd like to think, that we could gain a better understanding of our world if we look to the past. See the mistakes made and work to not make them ourselves." He grinned softly. "You shall have a signed copy, my dear, if you desire... when the work is published. Your interest in those notes there." He motioned to the notes. "Affirm that you'd rather enjoy the book." He smiled down at her as she took his hand. He helped her up and walked with her outside and down Diagon Alley's street toward the Leaky Cauldron. He smiled over at her softly as they walked, before he looked into the shops windows and chuckled. "I remember the first time I came to Diagon Alley as a boy... and the first time I came here to get my things for school. This place, truly holds many memories ... for everyone." He said, smiling down at her once more, before opening the door for her into the Leaky Cauldron. He found them a seat with relative ease, taking a place out of the way and a bit quieter than the middle of the room. A waitress came to them and he smiled at her. "A coffee, please, with cream. Also, some scones with jam and whatever the young lady desires." He said, looking over at Hermione with a gentle smile, he truly hadn't expected such an encounter to be so pleasant, especially with one at her age. He was glad he'd met her, bemused by her passions, and wholeheartedly thankful for them... as they were what brought her to him in the first place. He had made a friend of Hermione Granger, and hoped, she'd thought the same. He had never met someone of this age who he could find so many commonalities with. It was surprising, but pleasant at the same time. He wondered if she thought it odd that he'd been so comfortable with speaking with her. He himself could not find reasons behind it. Perhaps it was the... paternal... instincts within him that made this relationship, as it was starting to be, so very comforting.

[atrb=width,100] words , one thousand twenty nine tagged , Hermione Granger notes , sorry it took so long!!! hope you like!! ^^

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