Written for:

Hogwarts: Computer Application
Task 3 - Write an Author!AU

Hogwarts: 365 Prompts
Prompt - Provoked

Chance Meeting

xXx

"Hermione, you are such a talented writer," her editor began.

"But? I hear a 'but' in there."

"But you're attempting to write romance, and your story doesn't have the right feel to it. It's as if you've never experienced love."

Hermione wondered if her editor was trying to provoke her into lashing out. Everyone who knew her knew she didn't handle criticism well. She took a deep breath. Criticism was part of the job, unfortunately, and her editor was giving her his honest opinion. "What do you want me to do? I've never been in love. I've read many romances, and I'm writing it the same way."

"The words are okay. It's the tone. Genuine emotion doesn't shine through. It falls flat. When you write something, your words are supposed to evoke some kind of feeling, and yours doesn't evoke feelings of love. And I'm afraid until you experience love, you might not be able to sufficiently write this genre."

Hermione sighed. "What do I do then?"

"Authors are always told to write what they know, and this is the reason why. Maybe you should try a different genre. At least until you fall in love for the first time."

Hermione left the meeting feeling sad. She wanted to write romance. Even if she hasn't experienced it yet, she was a romantic at heart and dreamed of the day she'd meet her prince. But if it wasn't a good story, it would never get published.

She continued walking down the street but stopped when something caught her attention at the intersection up ahead. There was a man on crutches, trying to carry a couple of grocery bags as he waited for the 'walk' signal. It was obvious he was struggling with his load.

Hermione hurried over to him. "Do you need help?"

The man looked up from where he was trying to adjust his grip on his bags so he could use the crutches. Their eyes clashed.

She gasped at the beautiful emerald eyes. She had never seen a gaze that was so striking.

"I live a couple of blocks away and don't want to be a bother."

Her heart did a furious tempo within her chest as she blushed. She wished she had worn her hair up. It was naturally frizzy and the wind wasn't doing her any favors. It's no bother. You're going my way anyways." He wasn't really going in her direction, but he didn't need to know that. She eagerly grabbed the bags from him. "My name is Hermione."

"I'm Harry."

She gulped. They waited in the silence for the go-ahead to cross the street and when they were safely on the opposite sidewalk, they kept walking straight.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did hurt myself?"

"I play football semi-professionally and had a nasty fall. Twisted my knee."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Wow, I'm so sorry. Will you be able to play again?"

Harry sighed. "I'm not sure. I had to have surgery and now I'm going through physical therapy. I'll know in another four months if I'll be able to play again."

"Well, I hope it all goes well for you."

"So, Hermione, what do you do?"

"An author, but unfortunately, I'm not published yet."

"What do you write?"

"Romance, but my editor thinks I'm doing the wrong genre for my types of experiences. He suggested I try writing something else."

"Do you want to write something else?"

"No," she admitted.

"Then you shouldn't let your editor talk you out of writing what you want to write. If it's not working, then keep trying."

Hermione smiled. "You sound like you know these things."

"My family told me I'd never be able to make a career out of football, but here I am. I'm not rich or famous, but I'm happy. I'm not one to give up, even when I'm told the odds are against me."

Hermione laughed.

Harry stopped walking, causing Hermione to stumble to a stop. "Are you okay? Do you need to rest?"

"You have a nice laugh," Harry said, and then blushed brightly, as if he didn't mean to say it out loud.

"Thanks. You have nice eyes."

They stared at each other for a moment and then continue their trek to Harry's residence. As they walked, Hermione wondered how she could work up the courage to ask for his phone number. And suddenly, she started to believe she might be able to write her story a little bit better.

(word count: 749)