The Minister's Daughter

2. The New World

The long flight to Washington, D.C. had been tiring. Hermione was glad she had remembered to pack some books. Thanks to that, she had at least spent those long hours doing something good, which could not be said for Maurice. He had slept most of the time. Even though he was two rows behind Hermione, she could clearly hear him snoring.

Their first two days in America, had been... well, mostly boring. Attending several gatherings with the first lady and her son, Daniel (who insisted on gluing himself to Hermione's side) and visiting some of the national monuments and memorials quickly lost the novelty flavor.

Perhaps if she had been allowed to visit those places on her own, she might actually have enjoyed them, but the unwanted attention Daniel kept giving her was somewhat overwhelming and quite tiresome. Sure, he was a handsome bloke, but he seemed too sure of himself, and Hermione could not stand his arrogant attitude.

Kath and Maurice followed her every move. She was used to that, but it seemed they were overdoing it this time. Although she didn't always spot them, she knew there were a handful of extra agents watching her as well.

It annoyed her that her father didn't trust her. After all, she wasn't useless. If she were given a map of the city, she could get to all the places she wanted to visit on her own. Hermione sighed resignedly, knowing perfectly well that would never happen.

On the morning of their third day in the foreign nation, Hermione woke up feeling a bit better. Her excitement was back once again, as they were to be flying to New York City in just a few hours.

The city's extravagant mixture of culture, art, novelty, and contemporary style fascinated her. Just one more day of putting up with the public events and then she'd be free to enjoy her much-longed-for vacation.

The event they'd be attending that night promised to be far more interesting than the ones she had been forced to put up with in Washington, D.C. Admiring the works of art of her fellow citizens was much more appealing than hearing the annoying and highly unwanted compliments of the President's son.

As the private plane that took them to New York gave them a view of the Manhattan skyline, Hermione felt excitement building up in her stomach. Immediately after arrival, they were taken to the City Mayor's residence, where they were to have lunch.

Thinking about all the sightseeing she'd be able to do in the following days, she was able to smile politely during lunch, making her father proud of her good manners.

Finally, the event of the night was getting closer. Ms. Warrington, whose room was connected to Hermione's by an inside door, helped Hermione put on the elegant gown she was to wear to the event. The long, soft lilac empire-waist dress hung graciously from her shoulders, nicely shaping her slender figure. High, strappy heels gave her a couple more inches of height. Half of her brown curls had been elegantly arranged in the back of her head, while the rest hang freely from underneath the bun, cascading nicely down her bare back.

A small tiara shined atop her head. Besides that, the only other piece of jewelry she wore was the golden necklace her father had given her before leaving London.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the Contemporary Museum of Art. The black limousine stopped at the foot of a long red carpet that led to the main entrance.

All of the city's most important figures were present to witness the unveiling of such important exhibit. A sea of reporters, photographers and TV cameras followed them down the red carpet. Things were not that different inside the museum. A few specially chosen reporters had been invited to cover the event.

After the big, red ribbon had been cut, a long welcoming speech was given and a special toast to the artists was made. Hermione was finally able to breathe freely. She walked around the hall, admiring the art being displayed and feeling proud that people from her homeland had been able to create such beautiful pieces.

A strange feeling made her turn around. She could've sworn someone was watching her. She had felt a strong gaze locked on her. She knew it wasn't any of her guards. They were watching her from a few yards away, and she, somehow, was already used to them looking after her.

No. This time it had felt different. Trying to ignore it, and strongly hoping Daniel wouldn't make an appearance, she continued walking around. There was a splendid sculpture of a mother holding a baby in her arms, a warm smile on her face.

Hermione instinctively placed her hand over the necklace around her neck, as she remembered her own mother. Suddenly, she turned around as the feeling of someone watching her came over her once more.

There in the back of the hall, leaning against a wall, stood the handsomest bloke she had ever laid eyes on. He was wearing a black tuxedo and a heart-melting smile. She smiled back at him.

As his smile grew wider, she decided to walk up to him and introduce herself. But she had only taken a step forward when a hand in her arm stopped her. She quickly turned her face to see who was holding her back.

"Hermione," her father spoke said at her ear. "We should get going. I'm tired and I need to get up early tomorrow. I'm flying back home, remember?"

"Just give me a minute, Dad," said Hermione quickly. Her eyes went back to the corner where she had spotted the gorgeous bloke, but he was gone.

"Hermione..." her father pressed.

She strained her neck, trying to find him among the crowd, but he seemed to be gone. Hermione sighed in frustration. "That's odd," she thought. "How could he disappear so quickly?"

"We have to go!" said the Prime Minister a little more urgently.

"Fine! Let's go," she replied disappointedly. She had been so close to meeting the first person that had really called her attention in that country.

...................................................

Dragging her feet tiredly, Hermione walked into the elevator with her father. Now that she had sat in the car for a while, she realized she was tired too. Placing a hand in her father's arm for support, she bent over to remove her shoes.

"Hermione..." her father said. "You should just wait until you get into your room. Someone could see you like that."

"C'mon dad," she replied tiredly. "Who cares if someone seems me barefoot? I don't think that would dissolve our diplomatic relations with this country."

Not appreciating her joke, Mr. Granger gave her a warning look. To keep him from going on, she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. Right then, the elevator opened. Mr. Granger walked his daughter to her room and, after kissing her good night, walked into his own, right across the hallway.

Hermione walked in, closing the door behind her. She was glad the day was over. Her father couldn't have any complaints. She had behaved appropriately, keeping the good image of the British polite manners intact.

Wanting to wash her face and get ready for bed, she walked over to the bathroom. When she stepped in, she found a young maid inside it.

"Oh! Hello, miss," the maid quickly said. "I came to leave some clean towels. I knew the room was empty and decided to drop this for you. I usually don't do this at night," she said as she continued arranging the white towels in the racks next to the bathtub. "But a guest arrived this afternoon, and she kept me so busy I couldn't finish all my other things. She wanted me to iron and hang every piece of clothing she brought."

Hermione smiled at the young girl, who Hermione guessed should be about her age, and looked at the pair of curious black eyes staring at her. The maid was a tall girl with cinnamon skin and short, straight dark hair.

"She's staying here for three days and she brought along five huge suitcases. Five! I mean, what does she need so many clothes for? How many times a day does she expects to change?"

Hermione chuckled, remembering she wasn't a light packer either. At least, she hadn't asked a maid to iron and hung her clothes for her. The maid continued talking as she took several scented soaps out of one of her apron pockets. Hermione immediately liked the girl's easygoing personality.

Soon after, the two of them were chatting animatedly. Hermione was sitting on the closed toilet seat cover while Sarah, the maid, sat in the edge of the bathtub. Hermione's hair hung freely now as she had removed the pins that had held it in place, and her face was now free of make-up. Hermione found out that Sarah already knew who Hermione's father was.

"So," said Sarah with a hint of mischief in her voice. "Have you got a chance to experience the real New York?"

Hermione made a funny grunt, shaking her head. "No," she replied. "We just got here today. Besides, I don't know what you mean by experiencing 'the real' New York."

"Well, you got any plans for tonight?" asked Sarah in the same naughty way.

"Go to bed and get some rest," replied Hermione.

The expression of disgust on Sarah's face told her that was not the answer she expected. "C'mon! There are better things to do than waste time sleeping."

"Like what?" Hermione asked, her curiosity itching.

Lowering her voice a bit, as if the walls could hear, Sarah got closer to Hermione. "I know this awesome underground club. It's the best New York has to offer!" Hermione's eyes shone as she listened to her newest friend. "I'm going there tonight after I'm done with my shift here. You... wanna come?"

Hermione opened her mouth. She knew perfectly well that if she were to talk to her father about going to this underground club, he wouldn't be that happy about it even if she were to arrive with an army of agents escorting her.

"What do you say?" pressed Sarah. "Are you in?"

A sudden feeling of adventure mixed with rebellion started to creep inside Hermione. A result, she reckoned, of Sarah's influence. "It's just a club," Hermione thought. "I'm sure nothing bad will happen." She knew the 'underground' part of it could be a bit risky, but... didn't young people gather regularly in places like that? She could join them and have some fun, right?

After all, she had complied with her father's expectations quite nicely the past few days. She deserved to have some fun, didn't she? Weren't her vacations meant to start after the social events were done? Well, they were done! She was free to enjoy herself from now until the end of next week.

She could start making the most of it right now. Besides, sneaking out of the hotel, without agents, without her father, without surveillance, sounded like an appealing thing to do. She might never have this opportunity again.

"You won't be going alone," Hermione said to herself. "Sarah's coming along and she knows her way around."

After what seemed like an eternity to Sarah, Hermione turned to face her, a determined look on her face. "Alright! I'll come." Just by saying those words, Hermione felt excited.

"Great!" said Sarah as she stood up. "I'm off in an hour," she added, looking at her wristwatch. Hermione pulled Sarah's arm to see that by then it'd be 11 o'clock. An uneasy feeling started to grow inside her, but she quickly pushed it away.

"Meet me outside the kitchen," Sarah instructed her as she started heading towards the door. "Don't take the guests' elevator. Take the one at the end of the hallway. Go to the first floor. When you get off, go to your left and you'll come to the kitchen's entrance. I'll be waiting for you there."

Hermione nodded as she tried to memorize the information she had just been given.

"See you there exactly in an hour," added Sarah just before walking out of the room. Hermione remained rooted to the floor for a while, staring at the closed door. She couldn't believe what she had agreed to.

Remembering she was supposed to be ready in an hour, she ran back to the bathroom. Taking the gown off, she quickly stepped into the shower. The hot water that massaged her body for about fifteen minutes gave Hermione her energy back. Her tiredness seemed to wash away with the soap.

Covering her wet body with a bathrobe, she walked to the closet, trying to figure out what she should wear. Just then, a soft knock came from Ms. Warrington's door. Hurriedly, Hermione closed the closet and jumped into bed.

"Come in," she said, faking a sleepy voice.

Ms. Warrington came into the room. She was already wearing her long nightgown, a night robe on top of it. She looked questioningly at Hermione's damp hair. "You took a shower?" she asked incredulously. "You've never liked to take showers before bedtime."

Looking down at her hands, Hermione replied to her. "Yeah," she said softly. "I was just so tired I thought a bath might help me get some rest. My feet were killing me," she complained as she massaged her toes. "You know I can't stand for too long when I'm wearing shoes like those."

A disapproving look came on Ms. Warrington's face. She had been educated in old fashioned customs and always tried to force some of her ideas into Hermione's mind. One of them was the importance of a lady's nice appearance.

"High heels shape your posture, give you an elegant walk, and are far more feminine than those ugly, manly boots you usually wear," Hermione had heard her say on more than a few occasions.

But Hermione was far from following Ms. Warrington's advice. She preferred comfort over fashion. If an item pleased her, she didn't care whether it was feminine or not. She only dressed a bit more formal when attending public events. But even those formal garments had her personal easygoing style.

Sighing resignedly, Ms. Warrington looked at the nice shoes carelessly thrown on the floor. She walked over to them and picked them up. "Are you all set to go to bed then?" she asked as she placed the shoes carefully inside their shoebox. "Do you need anything?"

"No," Hermione replied, forcing a yawn. "I just want to get some sleep."

Ms. Warrington walked into Hermione's bathroom after she spotted the gown lying in the floor. She then folded it and placed it over a chair. "I'll ask the maid to get it dry cleaned tomorrow."

"Sure," said Hermione, as she pulled the covers and sank underneath them. "Good night, Ms. Warrington," she added, hoping that the woman would leave soon so she could get ready.

"Good night," Ms. Warrington finally said. She went to the door that led to her room, took one last look at Hermione and then walked out. Once the door was closed behind her, Hermione sighed in relief.

Quickly, trying not to make too much noise, she went back to her closet. Not paying much attention to the garments she was pulling out, she hurriedly got dressed. A pair of black pants and a blue top with thin spaghetti straps nicely covered her figure. A black leather jacket and a pair of black, comfortable shoes gave her the last touch. Taking a look at her image in the mirror, she decided to let her hair down. Finally, she added a bit of lip-gloss.

Grabbing her handbag, she tiptoed to the door. Making as little noise as she could, she pressed her ear to the door, listening for any noises. Not hearing anything, she pulled the door just a bit to take a peek.

At the same time she opened it, another door opened right across the hallway: the door to her father's room. Maurice was walking out of the room with his back to Hermione's door.

"Good night, Sir," he called.

Hermione quickly closed the door and listened as Maurice's steps faded away. She waited for a few seconds, and pulled the door open once again. The hallway was now deserted and silent.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione walked out scanning the hallway with her eyes. Hurriedly, she walked in the opposite direction to where Maurice had gone and headed to the maids' elevator.

As quickly as she could, she walked into the elevator and pushed the 'close door' button repeatedly until the door finally slid shut. Once the elevator started descending, a gleeful grin appeared on her face. Finally, the elevator stopped and the door slid aside. She took a look around the hallway. To her joy, it was empty. She walked out and, as Sarah told her, headed to her left.

Suddenly someone grabbed her arm and a rough voice said, "What are you doing down here?"

Hermione knew her little bit of freedom had been too good to be true. Feeling as if the floor underneath her feet had suddenly disappeared, she turned around expecting to see one of the MI6 agents, or even a hotel employee.

Instead, she came face-to-face with Sarah. "Sarah! You scared the living daylights out of me." Sarah's jubilant laugh was heard through the hallway. "Shh!" said Hermione.

"Don't worry," said Sarah between giggles. "Everyone's gone by now."

"Yeah, but my dad's agents could be around."

"Oops!" she said, covering her mouth. "I forgot about your dad's watchdogs."

"Can we just get out of here?" Hermione asked. She was getting a little anxious and wanted to be out of there as soon as possible.

"Let's go, then!"

"Sarah?" Pulling Sarah's arm, Hermione made her stop. "Do I...do I look alright?" she asked, looking down at her outfit to then compare it with Sarah's. Sarah was wearing a pair of faded, torn jeans and a matching jacket atop a bright yellow tank top.

After Sarah reassured her she looked just fine, Hermione allowed Sarah to guide her towards the exit through a series of hallways used only by the employees. Finally, they reached the back door and quickly walked out. Hermione immediately felt the night breeze hitting her face.

That seemed to bring back her courage. A naughty grin illuminated her face. Still, she wouldn't breathe freely until they were as far away from the hotel as possible. The same idea seemed to cross Sarah's mind as she pulled Hermione's sleeve to the parking lot in front of them.

Sarah went straight to an old convertible Volkswagen beetle. She quickly unlocked the door, got in, and unlocked the passenger's door to Hermione. Minutes later, they were speeding away.

.............................................

Sarah had only driven a few blocks when she suddenly pulled over. Hermione looked questioningly at her. "Why did you stop?" she almost shouted at Sarah.

Smiling at her, Sarah replied nonchalantly, "Because... I can't pull the top down while the car's moving!"

Hermione let out a sigh in relief. She watched as Sarah pulled down the car's top. It fell with a loud thud into the back. Hermione laughed as she saw Sarah waving around her below-the-ears brown hair. "You ready to enjoy the best night of your life?" she asked Hermione.

"I certainly am!"

"Let's have some fun, then," Sarah yelled out. She continued driving her little car as she whistled happily. Hermione smiled at her, enjoying the wind in her face. Her long curls were flying behind them as they continued through the streets. Sarah turned the radio on and started singing along a hip-hop song.

The scenery began to change as they left the nice Manhattan downtown area and headed towards the city limits. Sarah took the car into an area that, in Hermione's opinion, didn't seem to house a club. Old buildings that appeared abandoned could be seen in almost every block.

Sarah, unaware of the look of concern in Hermione's face, continued singing as if there was nothing wrong with the neighborhood. Hermione was just about to ask Sarah if she was going in the right direction, when the car finally stopped. Hermione looked around. She couldn't see any neon signs that would signal even a dirty pub.

"Sarah?" Hermione said softly as she noticed Sarah had gotten out of the car and was placing the top back up.

"Are you going to stay in the car?" asked Sarah teasingly. "We're here! C'mon, get your cute little butt out."

Still not sure they were in the right place, Hermione finally stepped into the sidewalk. "I told you it was an 'underground' club. It's supposed to be in a place that guarantees there'll be no unwanted guests." Then, looking at Hermione's puzzled expression, she added, "Like the cops!"

Hermione looked at her silently. Sarah, however, knew what was going on inside Hermione's head. "Don't worry! They don't do anything illegal." She grabbed hold of Hermione's arm and pulled her forward. "Well, just one thing."

"And what's that?" asked Hermione afraid of what she could hear.

"Some underage drinking," said Sarah as if that was not important. Hermione smiled. "Yeah," Sarah continued. "We're not legally allowed to drink alcohol until we turn 21."

"Really?" asked Hermione.

"I turned 21 last month, but I just love this place. All of my friends come here."

They stopped outside what Hermione thought was an abandoned building that might even crumble to pieces any moment. Sarah guided her to a dark side alley. Looking around to make sure nobody was watching them, she walked over to the place where a bunch of garbage cans stood.

Just to the side of the trashcans, there was a hard-to-spot black wooden door. The door blended easily with the darkness of the alley. Only those who already knew its location could easily find it.

Sarah grabbed hold of its handle and pulled hard at the door, which seemed about to fall off of its hinges. Once the door was dragged open, Hermione peeked inside to find a long dark hallway. A single black light at the end of the hallway provided the only illumination.

Sarah walked in and pulled Hermione's sleeve to make her follow. After Hermione was finally inside, Sarah pulled the door closed. They were quickly surrounded by darkness. "Just give it a minute," said Sarah reassuringly. "You'll get used to the dark quickly."

Seconds later, just as Sarah said it, Hermione was able to tell where the hallway ended. With the familiarity gained after visiting that place way too many times, Sarah walked unperturbed down the hall.

Several doors stood closed to the sides of the hallway. Sarah, however, walked straight without giving them a second look. When they reached the end of the hallway, Hermione saw a set of stairs descending into the depths of the building.

A small hallway at the end of the stairs led them to yet another door. Sarah knocked three times. Someone on the other side of the door replied with two long knocks. Then, Sarah answered back with one long knock followed by three quick, short ones. A tall, wide man opened the door and motioned them in.

"You ready to have the time of your life Hermione?" Sarah asked teasingly.

Hermione let out a sigh and smiled at her new friend. "I am."