The Murder In St. John

1. Prologue-Lingering Gazes

Coach was an adorable puppy, a small little thing that could curl up in the palm of your hand. His tail had been crooked from a bad incident with a bird and a tree, and his eyes tended to droop funny. He was an odd thing, with about a twenty-three percentile of surviving his first week of life.

Now he was seventy-five pounds of pure endless energy, currently suffocating Hermione Granger in her sleep.

Hermione kicked, sending Coach sprawling off the bed where he landed with a 'humph' before clambering back on the bed to lay beside his owner. She turned into him, burying her hand in his long golden fur coat, pressing her face into his shoulder before rearing away.

"Coach!" Hermione shouted bleary-eyed as she hauled herself out of bed. Stumbling on not one but two squeaky toys, that she kicked out of the way as she made a grab for her duvet.

"Get!" Hermione shouted, yanking the duvet out from under her dog. "Get-you stink!" Hermione groaned, watching as Coach triumphantly waltzed out of the room, trotting towards the kitchen where he would no doubt be sitting patiently, awaiting his breakfast.

Hermione grumbled, biting her cheek as she hauled her bedding down the hall and shoved it in the washer.

She hated skunk season.

"No, you are eating outside," Hermione demanded, stomping after Coach. She ripped open the front door and turned, one hand on her hip and the other pointing out the door as Coach pouted at her. "You'll be lucky I don't feed you kibble." Hermione snapped, watching as Coach trotted past her, still pouting.

She turned to watch him go, no doubt to trace the forest line looking for birds that didn't want to be chased. When she was startled to see a tall redhead, eyes wide and clutching a few envelopes to his chest.

"Ron!" Hermione stated shocked, stepping back nearly tripping over the door frame.

"What'd Coach do this time?" Ron asked, amused as he tossed Hermione's mail past her, letting it land on a small table beside the door. Where her keys, Coach's leash, and her bills usually ended up.

"Got into it with a skunk apparently." Hermione groaned, reaching up to rub at her eyes. Before pulling back slowly, she did not smell pleasant.

"Doesn't tomato juice-" Ron began, but Hermione sighed shaking her head.

"That's a myth, I've got soap at work." Hermione waved her hand in dismissal, before waggling her eyebrows at her old school friend. "So..." She trailed off, flicking her gaze once at Coach as he stopped near an old oak, looking up its trunk to the branches filled with leaves.

"She said yes!" Ron blurted, hiking his mail carrier bag further up his shoulder.

"Oh, Ron that's great!" Hermione gushed, extending her arms for a hug but Ron took one big step back, shaking his head. "Right, yeah sorry, metaphorically then." Hermione did an odd movement with her hands as if she was patting his back before retreating in on herself.

"You should swing by her shop later today and look at the ring-"

"I was with you when you picked it out?" Hermione stated slowly, raising an eyebrow at Coach as he dared to move close to the porch, before slipping away with a flat look in his eye.

"Yes, but on her finger, it's absolutely brilliant!" Ron's eyes were shining as he told her this, a bounce in his step as he gripped his mail carrier bag with both hands.

"I'll swing by and congratulate her." Hermione smiled softly at her friend, tugging on her pajama bottoms. "But if she tries to make me drink one of her weird teas-"