The Uncle From America

Chapter 5

The first night had been easy; with the trip and the tiredness and jet lag, she had fallen like a rock. But even if the second day had been as (if not more) busy, she couldn't rest. Her last discussion with Clint unnerved her a little.

She wasn't afraid of him per say, but he had that look sometimes, like he could see right through her. Her father had the same expression, inquiring and warning at the same time. But with her uncle, it made her nervous. She knew her father (or until recently, she had thought she knew him), and had never been intimidated by him. Although Clint had behaved like a nice guy (and Crookshanks liked him, so he couldn't be that bad) he was still basically a stranger. He was also determined to act as a proper guardian and...and she feared he'd make her tell everything and in the end, be opposed to her return to Hogwarts. The worst of all? She was sure she'd end up spilling the beans.

As if sensing her unease, Crookshanks jumped from his cat tree and curled next to her, purring softly in reassurance. Hermione smiled and scratched behind his ear. Her parents would have never allowed her pet to sleep on the bed and usually, Hermione ushered her cat to its sleeping spot, but tonight? She felt sad, lonely and isolated. She was jumping into a world with rules and people she knew nothing of. Her parents were dead. Her friends were on the other side of the Atlantic and couldn't help her. The girl inhaled sharply and shut her eyes tight.

"C'mon Hermione," she encouraged herself. "This is just a new phase. It's a new chapter, and it's up to you to write the ending." She opened her eyes and glanced at her familiar. The cat stared back with eyes gleaming in the dark. "You back me up, Crookshanks?"

The cat meowed softly, although she halfway wondered if it was because she had stopped scratching it.

"You're the best, y'know that?" Crookshanks purred. Hermione smiled and closed her eyes. She felt the cat moving closer until his fur brushed her hand. Knowing he was nearby eased her sadness and she promptly fell asleep.

TUFA

When Hermione woke up that morning –quite early actually, compared to the previous few days –and headed to the kitchen, she wasn't expecting her uncle spread on the couch. He was dressed in a pj pants and a light sweater, barefoot, slightly snoring with his head buried into a cushion.

"That's his punishment for forgetting to lock the closets. I kicked him out of bed."

The girl jumped and turned around. A redhead woman stood behind her, staring impassively but with the corner of her mouth tilted upwards. She was also wearing a man's shirt. And only a man's shirt. Hermione mentally thanked whoever had made the cloth long enough to cover her upper thigh. She was a girl and shared her dorm with three others, but she didn't need to see a grown up woman, and even more very likely her uncle's girlfriend, with less clothes than necessary on.

"Good morning," the redhead said with a polite smile. She was holding a cup, probably coffee, in her left hand and extended her right for a shake. "I'm Natasha."

She reluctantly took it. The self-insurance and shamelessness of the woman put her off. Mrs Granger would have never dared walk around in such little clothing, and a small part of Hermione thought that Natasha had certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

She heard an amused chuckle and glanced tentatively at the redhead again.

"Don't look so shy, I'm not going to eat you. I'm in the bedroom if this idiot asks." She yawned. "It was a long drive back."

And she promptly turned around and shut the door behind. Hermione just stared at in disbelief. What the hell had just happened?

"Sorry, she was supposed to return on Friday." Clint's voice made her jump. The man looked exhausted with huge bags under his eyes and a tightness in his mouth. "Can't believe she ditched them on a whim." He muttered in disbelief as he switched from a lying position to a sitting once and rubbed his face. "You had breakfast yet?"