Omerta

Chapter 1

"Hermione, is your sink leaking AGAIN?" Harry called from the kitchen. Hermione grimaced before taking a deep drink from her wine glass.

Of course not, Harry." She paused, taking another larger-than-socially-acceptable gulp. "My sink is leaking STILL."

"You still haven't had anyone out to look at that?" Ginny hissed as her boyfriend returned to the living room and sat beside them on the couch.

"Don't look at me like that, Gin. You know things have been tight for me lately."

"What if we paid for it?" Harry offered gently so as not to offend his friend, pushing his round spectacles up his nose with one finger, "Consider it a loan."

"I have a better idea," Ginny smiled widely. "I'm going to speak with our boss tomorrow and see if we can't get you hired at our job. You'd make more money, and the work isn't so bad. We look out for each other there. Come on, H. I know things have been difficult since that night in the alley, but I really think a change of scenery will help make you feel better."

It hadn't been easy opening up to Ginny and Harry about the night she was nearly attacked, even harder to accept that neither of them liked to let her out of their sight since confessing. But, she had to admit, something about admitting it out loud to people who she knew wouldn't judge her and would love her regardless, helped her feel a little better. A weight had been lifted off her chest, and air seemed to come to her just a little easier. Perhaps Ginny had a point. Maybe a change in scenery would be helpful. Besides, she could barely see a downside to accepting a job with the two people she felt closest to.

The office above the nightclub was impressive, to say the least. The mahogany desk was tiny, little occupying the surface except for a couple of rocks glasses, a decanter of a dark liquid, and a rather odd-looking set of eyeglasses, and Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she waited for the one who was to be conducting the interview with her. With no noise occupying the room aside from the ticking of the clock on the wall, Hermione began to question why she'd allowed herself to be talked into applying for the job in the first place.

She knew almost immediately that she had made a grave mistake. Crucio was no place for a swotty, know-it-all, bookworms like Hermione Granger. In fact, part of her was almost certain that the minute the mysterious interviewer would step into the room, she would immediately be dismissed and possibly laughed at. Sweat began to break out on her palms, and she could feel her heartbeat begin to pound as she stood, deciding that she was wasting her time.

She crossed the room to the door, taking one last look around the rather magnificent office before grasping the doorknob, only to have it ripped from her hand as it opened from the other side. Her heart lobbed itself into her throat as she came face-to-face with a blonde. For a brief moment, she was reminded of that night, the stranger. She'd never gotten a good look at the man who had saved her life, and she couldn't help but find him almost dreamy. She knew she shouldn't, he'd murdered a man right in front of her, after all, but she began to question if he were really such a bad person after all.

"Oh, I apologize, love. Are you alright?" The blonde brought her attention back to the present moment. Hermione blinked once, twice, three times, completely caught off guard by the soft voice that greeted her.

"I- Yes. I'm fine. I was just leaving." Hermione mumbled dumbly, making her internally curse.

"So soon?"

"Yes, I was just here for an interview to work downstairs, but I think I've made a mistake." She tried for the door once more.

"My name is Luna Lovegood, why don't you have a seat, Miss Granger?" The blonde smiled though her voice was firm. Though her tone indicated otherwise, Hermione realized that Luna was not asking, nor suggesting, and she immediately obeyed. "So tell me, Miss Gran-"