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It’s obvious she’s not from the South Side just by how she carries herself. She reminds Lip of Steve, a rich person pretending to be what they’re not. Yet he finds himself watching the mystery girl. Her curly brown hair makes her stand out even more as she flits here and there. The fact he sees her mainly in the library tells Lip she’s either comfortable there or is too scared of what’s outside to risk walking around more than she had to.
He sees her for a week, maybe two, before she disappears, and he forgets about her. It’s the South Side, Lip has more important things to worry about than some strange girl he was probably never going to see again.
Until he does see her again; when he sees her again it’s the beginning of the end.
She’s in the library, which is where he’s always seen her. She’s surrounded by books, and her bushy hair is pulled back into an elastic as she pours over the books in front of her. It's obvious she’s deep into whatever she’s focusing on, and Lip feels bad for distracting her, but he’s too curious not to. This radiant girl stands out like a sore thumb; it makes him wonder what she’s doing on the South Side of Chicago.
“You’re not from around here are you?” It’s not the best opening line, but it’s better than nothing,, and he watches as the girl’s head rises from her books. She tenses as if she’s ready for a fight before she practically forces herself to relax.
“No Afraid not.” She gives him a smile, but the English accent completely throws him. “Hermione Granger. I’m studying over at the University.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the entire truth. Yet she will not tell this muggle that it’s a magical University.
“Nice. What are you studying?” She looks to be about his age, but Lip knows enough to know looks can be deceiving.
“I’m just getting a couple of pre-med reqs out of the way.” At his questioning look, Hermione continues. “I already have my Bachelor’s and a Masters. Med school was a late addition.” Once again, not a lie. She is studying to become a healer at the local magical school.
One of the best in the country.
“Nice. So you’ll be in the area for a while?” Lip notices the way her hackles go up immediately. The way she tenses, it’s hard not to notice. Yet he can’t figure out why. The way her eyes are darting around the room as if they were looking for an exit is even more alarming.
“Long enough.” Hermione’s answer is evasive as they come, and it doesn’t take Lip long to figure out something’s wrong with the woman. Hermione looks like she’s borderline about to have a panic attack.
Not exactly what he was going for when he decided to strike up a conversation.
“Well just thought I’d pop over and say hi.” It’s a bullshit excuse, but he won’t be why this girl goes into a full-on panic attack just because he wanted to introduce himself. He’s several steps away from her table when he hears her call out.
“What’s your name?” Her voice is firm if a bit shaky, as Hermione turns, so she can face him better.
“Lip. Lip Gallagher.” He gives her a cocky grin as he starts towards the exit again, “Welcome to the South Side, Miss Granger.”
Lip finds he can’t stop thinking about her as he slowly makes his way home. The fact she had gone from calm to nearly having a panic attack worried him. Lip hadn’t thought he’d been too aggressive when he walked up to her. It was apparent something had happened to Hermione.
Her eyes were haunted in a way Lip hadn’t seen in a long time. The way she held herself, ready to strike at a moment's notice, always looking at and for exits to the building. She reminded Lip of one of their old neighbors. A Vietnam Vet that had that look of constant vigilance about them. As if they could be thrown back into the war at a moment's notice. So they were constantly scanning for threats, real or imaginary.
It was a hell of a way to live.
Hermione did her best to calm herself as she walked towards her new home. The apartment she called home was horrid, but it was better than nothing. It was barely big enough to be considered an apartment, yet it was better than some of the ones she had seen before. It was in one piece, and there weren’t bugs that went scurrying in every direction when she turned on the light.
Her new landlord was a total wanker, but Hermione avoided him at all costs. It was just as easy to pay her rent online as it was to deal with him in person. As she started the kettle for a cup of tea, Hermione did her best not to let her mind wander.
She had nearly jumped out of her skin at the library today. She wasn’t sure if she had been in public too long or if it was the fact that Lip spoke to her that set her off. It wasn’t Lip; personally, anyone would have set her off with how she was feeling.
Some days were better than others and, today of all days, it felt like the walls were closing in on her. It was one of the reasons she had gotten out of the UK. Everywhere she turned it felt like the walls were closing in on her. People expected great things of the war heroine.
Most days Hermione found she just wanted to curl up under her covers and not emerge. Some days were like that. Others she was able to get up out of bed and function like she was supposed to. Those were few and far between, but there was nothing Hermione could do about that.
As she went about her evening chores and getting ready for bed, she found she couldn’t help but think about what had happened this afternoon. The fact she had nearly had a panic attack, just for someone trying to introduce themselves. Hermione winced just thinking about it. She was going to need to up her therapy sessions. There was no question about that. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, keep living like this.
The war had taken so very much from her. She was bound and determined to get some of her peace of mind back. No matter what it took. Hermione knew that much. She had made a promise to herself and others that this would be what pulled her back together. Even if it didn’t pull her back together, she wanted to be where she wasn’t at risk of a panic attack every time she turned around.
A random stranger shouldn’t have sent her spiraling, yet here she was.
Hermione jumped when the kettle started whistling. Pouring the water into her mug, she set the kettle onto the base before vowing to do better the next day.
There was always tomorrow.
Or at least that’s what she told herself.
