DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I also don't own Full House or any of its characters. Heck, I don't own anything except for the clothes I'm wearing, so I'm begging you, please don't sue me.

A/N: After a long hiatus, I am back! I have decided to take down Pure and Simple and return with a funnier, more entertaining fanfic! And I assure you, this time, this story has a plot!

Chapter 1: A Series of Unfortunate Events

"YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT I HAVE NO MONEY LEFT?"

Hermione Granger seldom lost her patience. She was never known to be hotheaded or whiny. But of course, this momentary loss of cool is not without a back story.

It all started with the unfortunate event of her parents' deaths. It was shortly before the War ended. Treachery and two beams of green light was all it took to change Hermione's life forever. From the beginning, she never really wanted to delve upon the tragedy, and at this point, it is better for us to do the same. Anyhow, after the War, when Harry finally got to marry Ginny and Ron, Luna, Hermione opted to live her life away from the magic and memories of the Wizarding World. She once again occupied her parents' house in the Muggle world and pretended that her parents were not really dead but were merely on a vacation. A very long vacation. One could say that she was in the state of denial, one could say that it was insanity. She preferred not to call it anything at all. Of course, she has acknowledged the fact that her parents were not coming back three days from now, barging into the front door, wearing leis and sun visors but she decided not to take their death as a hindrance to life and instead decided to live the future days of her life reliving the great memories they left her; great memories which were most prominent in their beautiful house by the sea.

She dearly loved the house, with its wide glass windows, polished oak stairs and comfortable interiors, and actually did not like leaving it empty. She wanted to stay in the house so much that she took up the profession of a freelance writer, with the house as her office. Her current occupation came as a shock to her Wizard friends, most of whom expected that she would be a Healer at St. Mungo's. It came as a shock to Hermione, too. She does not quite know what possessed her that sunny afternoon, two years ago, when she grabbed her father's favorite pen and scribbled the ideas and stories playing around in her head. She thought that her short stories were rather good and from then on, she has not stopped writing.

Though she admits that writing, while making her truly happy and never bored (because it took much of her time), did not offer a nice paycheck. She could still pay her bills, eat three times a day and keep Crookshanks and the house in a good condition but she often found herself always tightening her belt: buying less of the things that are not completely necessary and limiting her expenses only to items that she could not live without. Sometimes she wonders what her life would've been if only she stayed in the Wizarding World and took the job at St. Mungo's. It would be, of course, more comfortable, if not luxurious, but she doubts if she would be as contented as she is as a writer compared to being a Healer.

Hermione finally figured that if she wanted to keep herself happy, then she had to work for it. So every time there was an opportunity for her to improve her career as a writer, she grabbed it. She joined writing workshops in different parts of England, she submitted all her finished works to every publishing company she could go to and of course, wrote furiously every day and every night.

Hermione's astonishing determination starts our story, for everything of importance (to this part of her life, at the very least) happened after she decided to fly to Iowa and stay there for a week to attend her first-ever international writing workshop, leaving Crookshanks and the house to the care (or the un-care, technically speaking) of her muggle best friend, Sheila and Sheila's husband, Ned. Hermione's troubles began the moment the plane landed on English soil and she decided to go to the bank to withdraw some money only to find out, much to her dismay, distress and intense displeasure that she had not even a penny left in her bank account.

Which brings us back to the present state of things with which we left Ms. Granger at the beginning of this chapter.

"YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT I HAVE NO MONEY LEFT?" Hermione incredulously repeated, shouting vehemently at the blonde bank teller in front of her.

"Ms. Granger, please lower your voice, I would like to remind you that you are inside a bank," said the teller, trying to calm Hermione down. To no avail, of course.

"Oh, am I in a bank?" Hermione asked sarcastically, "because correct me if I'm wrong but from what I know, banks HAVE money and I could just swear that you told me just a minute ago that my account HAS NONE! Are you trying to make me laugh?" Hermione continued to shout, despite the hissing of the other people watching her outrage. Hermione was yelling with such venom that the security guard already had his hand on the belt of his pants, ready to pull out his gun. From his post at the door, he cautiously approached the enraged Hermione from behind.

"Like what I have told you a thousand times before, Ms. Granger, your account seems to be empty---"

"Well, like I told YOU a thousand times before, that's not possible!"

"But Ms. Granger, the bank records say---"

"To hell with your bank records!" exclaimed Hermione, making the teller jump up nervously. "I was in Iowa last week and NOBODY and I mean NOBODY could have taken my money, unless you got robbed and conveniently forgot to tell me about it!"

"Ms. Granger----"

"Excuse me, Miss, what's the problem here?" the security guard interjected, introducing his presence with a baritone voice too deep to be genuine.

"The problem," said Hermione, turning around to face the guard, "is that Blondie here is telling me that I have no money left. As in NO money, zero, null, nada, NONE!"

"Well ma'am," answered the guard in his macho pitch, "if Ms. Corwood says that the bank records shows so, then she must be, with all due respect, right,"

Hermione felt like the veins in her temples were filling up with boiling blood and would soon explode. Her eyesight was getting dimmer and she fought not to lose control and end up drawing her wand and giving both the teller and the guard so many hexes, they wouldn't be able to stand up right. She was just about to start shouting again when a particularly loud sound of a throat being cleared distracted her. She looked to her left and saw a chubby, elderly man, quite like Harry's horrible Uncle Vernon, looking directly at her. Judging from his black ironed suit and authoritative bearing, Hermione guessed that he was the bank manager.

"If you wouldn't mind, Ms. Granger, I would like to speak with you in my office. This way, please,"

Hermione, feeling that her throat was ripped to shreds, cast one last menacing look at Ms. Corwood the teller and still seething, followed the manager to his office at the back.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Have some tea, Miss Granger," offered E.G. Huntington, Bank Manager (so it says in the iron name plate on top of his table) as soon as Hermione had taken her seat inside the office. Hermione's thirst did not leave any room for politeness and so, she gulped the tea offered to her noisily, while having a quick look at the office's interiors.

It was a run-of-the mill executive office: air conditioner, plush carpeting, polished wooden tables, elegant swivel chairs and large, silver-framed family photos. Everything would've looked quite normal if not for the presence of the bushy brown-haired enraged customer sitting in one of the comfy swivel chairs.

E.G. Huntington sat down behind the big, wooden desk and after a sip of tea, regarded Hermione with a kind smile.

"I do hope your throat is better," said E.G. Huntington, more amused than annoyed at Hermione's earlier behavior.

Hermione smile reproachfully. Her rage had vanished with her thirst. "Yes, thank you. I am truly sorry for my unacceptable behavior, Mr. Huntington. I assure you, it will not happen again."

"No need for assurances, Ms. Granger. I would like to think that what transpired earlier was merely a product of... a misunderstanding."

"How I wish it were like that, Mr. Huntington. But, though I know it might not have happened to you yet, being told that all your money is gone is more than just misunderstanding," said Hermione, getting angry once again.

Mr. Huntington nodded. "Well, yes, of course. I understand your distress Ms. Granger and I hope you understand what I am about to confess to you regarding your, er, disappearing finances."

Hermione's brow furrowed.

"First I would like to ask you," began Mr. Huntington, crossing his legs, "if you have recently spent money using your credit card?"

"Huh? Ermmm, I do not deny that I have a credit card but I don't use it anymore. In fact, I think I lost it a couple of months ago," answered Hermione, thoroughly confused.

Mr. Huntington cleared his throat again. "Are you sure, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione reviewed her past activities during the said months and was quite assured that she did not, in any way, make use of her credit card to purchase anything. Truth be told, Hermione preferred to pay her transactions with cash and found the paperwork of using credit cards irksome. She only got one because of Ned's urgings (Ned used to work at The Goodwill Bank; he was fired after he was found guilty of tampering with his time card).

"Yes, I am quite sure that I did not use my credit card recently," Hermione answered finally.

Mr. Huntington studied her with a keen eye and after clearing his throat, opened a drawer and pulled from it a rather thick wad of papers.

"These, Miss Granger, are the records which show that your credit card has been, indeed, used to purchase quite a number of items during the past week," explained Mr. Huntington, answering the question Hermione was about to voice out. His explanation offered little clarification, however, for Hermione seemed more perplexed about the current situation. Mr. Huntington noticed her bafflement and spoke once again.

"Miss Granger, these records show that your finances did not vanish into thin air, as you think it did. Now the question we must ask is this: are you positively sure that your credit card was lost and you did not let anyone borrow it?"

Hermione's heart thumped. At that moment, she knew that something was not right.

"What do you mean?" she asked, dreading the reply.

Mr. Huntington handed her the papers. "I am sorry to say that someone has been using your credit card, Miss Granger, without your permission,"

"What?"

She made a grab for the papers and there she saw where all her money had gone. And the culprit: it was Sheila Bartleby.

"Sheila! Sheila did this?"

"Have another cup of tea, Ms. Granger," offered Mr. Huntington, standing up.

"No... no wait... you mean Sheila... Sheila had my credit card all this time? This can't be!"

Mr. Huntington wrung his hands. "Forgive me for saying this, Miss Granger, but... the loss of your funds is partially your fault. Why did you not report the loss of your credit card as soon as you knew it was gone?"

Hermione grappled for an answer. "I didn't--- I was--- I---"

She failed to give a sufficient answer. Of course, it was quite careless of her not to report the loss of her credit card. But she did not think that that was enough justification for Sheila to take advantage of her. Her rage mingled with disbelief.

Hermione felt like she was about to faint. "But---but---how could she do this to me? I trusted her!"

Mr. Huntington tried to soothe Hermione. "Calm down, Miss Granger---"

But, alas, those words brought more anger to Hermione.

"Calm down? Calm down! How could you ask me to calm down! Sheila lied to me! She spent all my money not even thinking that she left me with nothing! How could she?"

"Miss Granger, please do try to understand---"

"What is there to understand?"

Mr. Huntington tried to get Hermione to sit back down, for her fury brought her to her feet. "Miss Granger, please I beg you to control your emotions for I will tell you about Mrs. Bartleby's visit to me only three days ago---"

"Visit?"

"Yes, so please sit down. I cannot possibly go on with you towering over me with such anger. It is making me rather queasy,"

Hermione relented to the request and plopped back down the swivel chair. "All right, I'm listening, go on,"

Mr. Huntington cleared his throat once more. ". "Mrs. Bartleby came her just three days ago, and told me that you had left for Iowa and in the process, left with her your house---"

"---And my cat,"

"---And your cat, and said that since you were gone and she desperately needed money, she took... er... full liberty with regards to spending your money with your credit card---"

"The nerve!" Hermione interjected.

"Well yes, but you see, when she realized that she had spent all you money (leaving only spare change), she at once felt guilty about it and decided to inform me---"

Hermione was on her feet again. "Guilty? Guilty, you say? And only then did she feel guilt! The ungrateful little---"

Mr. Huntington once again grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "Do allow me to continue, Miss Granger. Now, take your seat, thank you. And so I was saying that she came to me and confessed her actions because she was sure that you'd find out sooner or later, and that it would be quite unjust if you were left with no explanation whatsoever. Mr. Bartleby---"

"Ned, that raving idiot,"

"Yes, as I was saying, Mr. Bartleby did in fact leave in my possession a letter and asked me to give it to you the moment we.. Er... meet,"

In saying this, Mr. Huntington again pulled open a drawer and extracted from it a small red envelope and handed it to Hermione.

"I suppose the answers to your other questions can be found in that letter."

Hermione took it, very much wanting to tear it in half but thought better of it and instead, shoved it in her bag. Mr. Huntington watched her closely, as though expecting her to burst into flames.

At that moment, Hermione felt exhausted. She was drained of all her energy but not of her anger, making her all the more frustrated. She rubbed her temples, feeling that a headache was coming. She could not yet contemplate the consequences of the loss of her money at that point but she was already expecting the worst. Left with no money, she felt like she was going out of that bank as a beggar.

Hermione covered her face with her hands, in defeat, more than anything. "What am I going to do now?"

Mr. Huntington looked sympathetic. "I am truly sorry to know that you did not, in fact, give your full consent to Mrs. Bartleby and you are now left with only a few pennies. But on the other hand, I am quite relieved to know that you indeed know a person by the name of Sheila Bartleby---"

"And how could that be relieving?" asked Hermione scathingly.

"Well, it only means that since you know Mrs. Bartleby, you can ask for your money back," Mr. Huntington replied with a smile.

"I suppose you are right, Mr. Huntington," sighed Hermione. "It's not like I could do anything about it. At least they didn't sell my house--- or my cat,"

"Ermmm," was Mr. Huntington's feeble reply.

Hermione's eyes widened once more, as another infuriating revelation was made to her.

"Actually," said Mr. Huntington, wiping his face faster than before, "Mrs. Bartleby told me that in case you passed by, that I should inform you that Crookshanks is currently in Fiddle Dee's pet shop, waiting for your arrival."

Hermione has heard enough. Mouth pressed into the thinnest of lines, she began to walk out of Mr. E.G. Huntington's office in quick strides, not even saying goodbye.

"Ms. Granger! Erm, Ms. Granger!" Mr. Huntington's nervous voice called out.

"Yes?" said Hermione, without looking back.

"I would like to inform you that your head is on fire..."

Sheila was going to pay.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Draco Malfoy. 22 years old. Rich. Blonde. Gorgeous. And currently being scolded at by his father, Lucius Malfoy, in one of the posh offices at one of the fine buildings of their prestigious business organization, Malfoy Wizarding Corporation.

"Father, please,"

"I said NO, Draco. You will, and I repeat you WILL make the marriage proposal to Ms. Pansy Parkinson as soon as possible. No excuses."

Draco, though not exactly giddy with the prospect, did not care much because he and Pansy have been friends since their days at Hogwarts. Even during the War, wherein the Aurors defeated the Dark Lord's forces and saved both the Wizarding and Muggle world from complete devastation, Draco and Pansy stuck together. Of course, coming from the same family background, the two of them did not find any reason to trust the others with their lives, for fear of being betrayed, as they have betrayed others of their kind. The War was gruesome and most of the Witches and Wizards who lived through it preferred not to talk about it. Many lives and property were lost; even hope was scarce, so scarce that Draco was surprised to find his family intact at the end of it all. His father betrayed the Dark Lord at the very end, choosing his life as a free man from a life of a man in Azkaban and decided to abandon Voldemort and tell the Aurors where the Dark Lord was. Pansy's father sided with Lucius and both families fled as the War raged on. Crabbe and Goyle, of course, ended up as orphans and are serving their time in Azkaban, giving Draco more reason to stay close to Pansy, the only person he considered an ally.

The possibility of a future marriage was expected, of course, and Draco couldn't think of anybody else to get married to other than Pansy. Not because he loved her (though he supposes that they do love each other, as much as two cold-blooded persons could love), but because it was convenient. Not only for him but for his family. His father is particularly delighted with the idea, Pansy being the sole heiress to her rich pure-blooded family's treasure. His mother, though not as excited to give away her only son, was comfortable with the thought, mainly because Pansy grew up to be not as a pug-faced woman as everyone expected her to be, but as a beautiful and elegant lady, perfectly playing the role of the desirable, affluent blonde with Daddy's gold. One could say that Draco and Pansy was a perfect match. And that made the deal disagreeable to Draco.

When he was a child, he wanted to be like his father, to do everything that would please his father. But as he grew older, wiser and let us say, more rebellious, the concept of bringing pride to Lucius lost its appeal and Draco looked for every opportunity to do the contrary. Yes, he did take the position as Senior Vice President of LWC like his father told him to do so. Yes, he ended his relationship with that shapely hooker from the Hogshead Inn like his father told him to do so. But he was not going to marry Pansy, like what his father wants him to do so. Not that he doesn't want to; like what was said, he really doesn't care. But he was tired of his father always controlling his life. He figured that if he wanted to get married, then he would get married on his own terms. Sure, he'd propose to Pansy, eventually, but only when he sees it fit.

Now, however, Draco does not dare to voice out an appeal to the formidable Lucius, whose platinum blonde tresses are little by little being replaced by white hairs. For fear of being hexed (old habits die hard), Draco chose to shut his mouth and let his father berate him some more.

"What is it you want, Draco?" continued Lucius, obviously enjoying the authority, "You have the looks, the money, the fame, everything a wizard could want! And Pansy is there, yours! So beautiful! So rich! And just waiting for you to make a move! Don't be a fool, Draco! Do what I say and your life will be set! For the rest of your days, you will bathe in luxury, nothing less. Why don't you listen to your own father, Draco?"

"I am listening, Father," said Draco softly, while examining his nails.

"Don't be stupid, boy and follow my commands! Stop being idle! You are young and you have the ability to conquer the world!"

"I don't think so, Father. We know what happened to the last one who tried to do that, don't we?" He answered, giving his father a knowing look. "I would like to keep my perfect nose, thank you very much."

"Don't mock me, boy."

"Not mocking, Father."

Lucius sighed. "Fine. I suppose you've had enough telling-to for today." He brushed away his hair from his face and straightened his robes. "Very well. All that's left to tell you is that I am holding a banquet five days from now and I think that it would be the perfect time to... settle little problems." He looked at Draco in a way that told him what those "little problems" were.

Draco stood up. "Very well, Father, as you please. I will propose during the banquet, three days from now."

Lucius clapped his son's shoulder. "I knew you'd see sense, son. I would like you to know that what you will do will make me and your mother proud."

"I am delighted to hear that, Father." Draco bowed his father out of his office and promptly closed the door behind him.

In five days, he'll have to make a marriage proposal. He'll only have five days to think of how to get out of it.

Next Chapter: Hermione tracks down Ned and Sheila and finds out more horrible news.

A/N: So, what do you think of my comeback piece? I repeat, it's based on a Korean TV series with the same name; for those who about it, good, because you can tell me if I made the right modifications. For those who don't, better, at least you don't know what's going to happen!  R&R

Notes:

Chapter title: Well, I know it's another rip-off, but don't you think it just fits?

Location: I'm from the Philippines, ergo, I don't know anything about London, England and everything I write about it in this story are all made-up. So pardon me for the inconsistencies with the real London.

Characters: As you can possibly notice, I made some changes to some characters for this story. To Harry and Ron fans, I'm sorry but they're not gonna be in the story. I'd probably make them drop by but they're not going to be main, participating characters. For once. To Pansy fans (I believe they exist), heads up because I'm going to give Pansy a nicer, not-so-canon characterization, so better wait for that one. To Draco fans, don't worry; he'll still be haughty, naughty, dense and dreamy. And lastly to avid Hermione fans, I'm keeping most of the real characterizations; I'm just going to make her feistier this time :). Hope you support this one because so far, I'm having fun making it!

Blog: don't forget to visit:

You can see my pic there :)