A/N: This is my 2nd HHr fic. Thanks for checking it out. It's an AU and magic never existed.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter ,

Chapter 1: Casey Barrett

Hermione sat in her apartment, nibbling on her bottom lip as she plopped down on her couch. She got fired from her job at a bookstore, a job she loved, but had horrendous pay, and not to mention the worst boss she ever had. It's been 2 years since she ran away from home because she was forced to be married to Ronald Weasley, a business tycoon and not to mention one of the most eligible bachelors of all of England—he picked Hermione, who was the heiress to her father's company. It was the day before their wedding day and Hermione decided that she wouldn't let her life be controlled. So she ran, she didn't want to be married, she was only twenty-one for goodness' sake! So she packed her bags and jumped on the next place to New York, found herself a studio apartment and a job in stacking books in a charming little bookstore.

That was when her life came crumbling down before her—she lost her job, then the apartment, and here she was, packing her bags and pondering on whether she go home and be forced to be married, or remain homeless. Hermione sat in her room, crying, her parent's had cancelled her ATM account, and had a private detective hunting her down. She lost the battle, and she knew it. Until her best friend Draco Malfoy came to her rescue, offering her to be his room mate in a luxurious flat in a high-rise building, which came with 2 bedrooms with en suite bathrooms. There was also a kitchen, a loft, a balcony and a swimming pool at the top floor. Hermione soon found a job as Ginny Weasley's intern, Ginny Weasley was an agent, who was looking for a replacement. As soon as Hermione found the job in the classifieds, she applied as "Casey Barrett" and got the job almost immediately.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and started pacing the living room, stealing glances towards the clock—Draco was supposed to arrive and help her bring her stuff to his apartment. She felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. She missed home terribly, as well as Ron. They were... fond of each other, but not exactly in love. A tear rolled down her cheek, which she wiped away immediately, sniffing. Two years of living alone, two years of being a nobody, two years changing hair colors and names, two years of... not living life. But she was glad that Draco visited her occasionally, they were friends since they were little kids and he moved to Manhattan 6 years ago. And now he's a famous business man who will soon take the place of his father as president of Malfoy Inc.

The loud banging on her door snapped Hermione out of her thoughts.

"Hermione?" Draco barged in, "Where have you been? We've been worried about you."

"We?" She asked, "Who else is there with you?"

"The driver, come on, they'll help you with your things." Draco said, dragging Hermione by the arm and walking towards his BMW.

When inside, Draco was the first one to break the silence, "Hermione, I'll just drop you off, alright? Your bedroom is straight down the hall to your right. I'll be off at a meeting in 30 minutes, I trust that you can handle unpacking by yourself, right?"

"Okay, Draco. Thanks so much. I'll just take a cab to work." She replied.

"Alright." He said, grinning back at her. "Oh yeah, I'm having dinner with someone tonight, so don't wait up."

"Okay." She said blandly, occupied in her thoughts.

---

Hermione sat in her bathroom, combing her hair—it was no longer bushy, and she was thankful for that. After taking one last look into her mirror, she walked out of Draco's flat—he had suggested to her that she also call it "her flat" but it never stuck, she always had that suppressing feeling that kept it from sticking. She walked towards the end of the hallway, waiting for the elevator. She waited patiently, enjoying the peace and ambiance the bright hallways gave, until a man wearing sunglasses, in a white button-up shirt with a blazer and jeans broke the silence, practically shouting into his cell phone. His jet-black hair was messy—she assumed that those were the styles now-a-days. She couldn't quite grasp the concept of hair standing up, it was anything but neat. The boys back home in London had their hair combed neatly into place—it was funny how she could still call that wretched of a place "home", her "home" was simply made up of exquisite balls and parties, everyone treating her like royalty, and the sad fact that arranged marriage was a tradition to keep the family business alive.

Hermione jumped slightly at the rudeness of the man beside her to whomever he was talking to, people at home—there she goes, again—we're well mannered, only reaching this sort of tone on something serious, not about coffee and scripts.

New York still seemed foreign to her, she didn't go out to enjoy most of it in fear that her parents would track her down. So she spent her two years walking from her apartment, to work, back home. On weekends, she'd go to the grocery and do a little shopping, and that was it. And in a week's time, her 23rd birthday would come out soon, proving that time was going by rather slowly, at this rate she felt like she was 27. She didn't go out like most girls, she had her share of fun back in the day, going to cocktail parties and eating out of expensive bottles of caviar.

"Shut the hell up, mother." Boomed the voice of the incredibly rude man—she had unwillingly heard his conversation—to the phone, making Hermione shudder at how his voice bounced off the walls, ringing in her ears.

"No, I don't want to go to some stupid charity work! I'm busy!" he said again then hung up the phone, she heaved another sigh, if she were like that to her mother...

Ding. Went the elevator, her eyes widened in shock, she was so caught up with her thoughts that she managed to enter the elevator and go down 27 floors. She rushed out of it, walking towards the front door, summoning a cab. "Lexington Street, sir." She replied—to the cab driver as soon as he opened his mouth—eyeing the rude man who was picked up by an expensive-looking car. Hermione felt a pang of envy sweep through her, and scowled at the man. He was so lucky in life—a mother who actually cared, a nice, safe ride to wherever he was going, he was obviously well-known but since she was too busy hiding herself, she wasn't able to pick up a magazine and read about him, or how much money he earned a year and such, it was a waste of time—yet he neglected it, she'd do anything to come back home and snuggle up to her mum and dad—without the arranged marriages and the bombarding of questions on why she suddenly disappeared for two years.

"Uhm, lady, I'm going to have to ask for your payment, now. That'll be 10 dollars."

"Already?" She asked dreamily, slowly taking out 10 dollars out of her wallet, giving it to him. "Thank you so much, sir." She said elegantly, she didn't leave her manners at home—she was almost like royalty, always expected to be the elegant, poised and graceful lady she is. She slowly left the cab, walking towards the building in front of her. Her jaw dropped in awe as she saw how beautiful and elegant the building was, she had almost forgotten that it was an office, and not a hotel. She walked through the glass doors nervously, fiddling with the charms that hung loosely in her bracelet, forgetting to breathe once in a while. She took a quick glance at the receptionist, who glared at her, as if it was her fault that the woman's day was ruined—at least that's what she thought... Taking a deep breath, Hermione took small steps towards the marble table, looking around nervously, biting on her bottom lip.

"Excuse me, miss." She called her attention to the receptionist, who turned her head quickly at her and gave her a polite smile.

"Yes, ma'am how can I help you?"

"Uhm, I'm Casey Barrett, interning for Ms. Ginerva Weasley..." She was immediately cut off as she saw the woman in front of her picking up a phone and punching numbers. Hermione turned around to take a better look at the place while the receptionist was busy calling Ginny. She felt a lump in her throat once she saw the familiar expensive-looking car, and the familiar man walk right out of it...

"...Uhm, then you turn right and there's her office, good to be of service ma'am, can you please give room for the other people?" Said the receptionist smiling at her. Hermione wanted to ask again, she was too caught up gazing at that man that she didn't listen as the woman gave her directions to Ginny's office. "Miss, I don't quite understand..." She started.

"Alright then, Miss Barrett, you take the elevator to the 14th floor, then you walk until the end of the corridor, turn left and head to the end of the corridor again, take the elevator to the 19th floor and turn right—her office isn't exactly hidden, you'll know it's her office. If you have any problems, feel free to ask the personnel patrolling the corridors. I'm sure they won't have any problem helping you."

Hermione left the receptionist table in a hurry, rolling her eyes. If it hadn't been for that man... If only she knew him she would give him a good scolding. People that absurd and rude should be getting what they deserve, not walking about in all their un-worthy riches and fame...She heaved a sigh, seeing as the 14th floor had 3 corridors in it, and the woman only specified for one. She tried the middle corridor first, since it was more colorful and alluring, she walked to the end of the corridor and saw another corridor to her right, but none to her left. She shrugged and went back. In a span of 15 minutes, she had already found the corridor, which was the one on her extreme left. She followed the directions accurately, afraid as if she would get lost in a building this humongous...

A slight 'ding' snapped Hermione out of her usual string of thoughts—which included that arrogant man (even though she was lucky enough to have not met him), her arrogant parents (she was lucky enough to have not followed them), if she would be imprisoned for calling herself 'Casey Barrett' (there must be thousands of Casey Barretts in the world), if Ginny had really recognized her, and the usual "will Draco bring home a girl tonight? Where will I stay?"—She had spaced out so much lately, that it's a surprise that she hadn't been run over by a car while crossing the street this morning. She squeaked at the thought, pressing her lips tightly together, trying to stop herself from bursting into fits of laughter. Then a certain thought ran through her head that made her heartbeat quicken and her face turn pale—how could she have thought of her death so... amusingly? She bent her head, once again, fiddling with the charms that read "L-I-F-E" on her bracelet.

Since then Hermione tried her best to stop her mind from wondering, monitoring the screen, waiting till "19" was lit up so she can rush off to work to keep herself busy—and try not to space out this time. But to no avail, she found herself floating towards the door to her right that read "Ginerva Weasley". She eyed the door worriedly, wondering how Ginny would be like, and slowly she pressed her lips together, lifter her hand to knock, then before her knuckles could touch the cold wooden door, it flew open, and along came that same arrogant man, his face flushed, grumbling angrily, muttering curses under his breath. She walked in nervously, afraid that she had disrupted something, but she heaved a sigh of relief as she saw that Ginny was surprisingly calm, smiling at her enchantingly as she entered the room.

"Oh Hermione! Hello!" Ginny exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "It's great to see you once again! How is Draco?"

"Erm..." Hermione said, not quite sure of what to say.

"Come on, princess."

"Ginerva, for the last time, I am not a princess! I am just an heiress who happened to be engaged to a business tycoon and a prince." She hissed.

"You guys still are engaged, you know. Why aren't you wearing your ring? Imagine Ron's surprise once he sees his beautiful fiancé, not wearing his display of eternal love proudly."

"We are not engaged!" She retorted, plopping down on the couch beside her, tugging at the ends of her hair, "I cancelled it, and I am free as a bird. And if you tell Ronald..."

"If you consider 'free' as being searched for everywhere, for two years, with no money and no home..."

"I know, Ginerva... Can we please drop the topic and let it rest? I'm your intern, remember?"

Ginny only nodded as she fixed the clutter on her desk, humming a song to herself.

"Ginerva..." She started. "You shall address to me as 'Casey Barrett' and if you tell Ronald..."

"Alright, 'Casey'. I won't." She replied smiling happily to herself.

"Promise?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at her, crossing her arms together.

"Scout's honor." Replied Ginny who was grinning at her, lifting her forefinger and middle-finger together, for effect.

"Now, uhm, Casey, could you get us some coffee? And die your hair back to brown, dear, black is a horrendous color on you."

Hermione mock-scowled and marched her way out, getting herself lost for the 3rd time today—going down elevators, taking glances towards maps and asking personnel—and after 10 minutes, which seemed like an eternity of white, bright walls, frilly paintings, and annoying elevator music, she finally found the cafeteria, which was on the same floor. She rolled her eyes at herself, taking her time while waiting for 3 cups of coffee to brew. She quickly walked to Ginny's office, walking as far as her heels could handle.

"Ginny, I wasn't sure about how many people wanted coffee and I got three, I hope you guys like cream and—"

"And here she is, Mr. Potter, this is my intern, Casey Barrett."

That familiar man looked at her with his brilliant emerald green eyes, shrugged and turned back to Ginny, "Am I free on Friday? I need to be free on Friday. I have a dinner with Cho. If I'm not I could always cancel..." he took out his pale hand and picked up the coffee that Hermione had in her hand, talking one sip and his face scrunched up. "I asked for black. This has cream in it—cream's unbearable. Get me another one. And can you please get my glasses from my trailer? The contact lenses are irritating my eyes."

Hermione stood there, shocked, he was the man. He was that man she loathed and felt lucky to haven't met him, maybe she spoke too soon. But he was unbelievably good-looking, even better than Ronald. "Erm, sir, I don't know where this 'trailer' thing is... and would you want me to get the coffee first?"

"I thought she was your intern, Ginny, why the hell is she asking me? Have you shown her around yet?" He replied, taking a sip of coffee that he said was "unbearable", mumbling something incoherently, which ended with the word "Intern.", he probably intended it to be loud enough for her to hear.

"Erm, Casey. The trailer is at the studio, Finnigan and Co. You go into studio 13 and go into his trailer. Take his glasses and bring it here, and don't forget the coffee... Here—" She handed Hermione a pass, "Its a pass."

"Alright..." She replied.

---

The day had been completely tiring, going back and forth into the studio to the office, bringing him this, and that. She hadn't expected that life would take a sudden turn from 'okay' to 'I'm the slave of an arrogant egotistic actor whom I never even heard of'. She had spent her day fetching him coffee, and scripts and the like. Answering his phone calls and canceling flights that she had booked on the same day due to the 'laziness' or as he referred to as the 'tight' schedule he had. She had been staring at the clock all day. In 20 minutes, it would be 8 o'clock. She could finally go back to Draco's flat—it still hadn't stuck. She rolled her eyes discreetly. It was not fair—Ginny had left two hours earlier than she had, and she'd just been sitting on her desk all day, not walking around in heels that were killing her, fetching whatever Potter guy needed.

She had thanked herself for spacing out this time, she had managed to fly through 20 minutes of just complaining about her git of a boss in her head. She stood up and walked eagerly to Mr. Potter's desk, collecting his empty cup of coffee and throwing it into the trashcan.

"Uhm, sir. It's 8 o'clock." She started, "Erm, and the intership is only from 9 am to 8... so..."

"Yeah, whatever. Erm, listen." He said quietly, "I'll be leaving in ten minutes so you have to stay behind until then, Ginny always fixes my office after I leave. But since there's no Ginny, you'll have to fix it."

"Alright." She huffed discreetly, walking back to her desk, putting her head in her hands. And as he said, in 10 minutes, his office lights closed and he went out, going into the elevator at the end of the hall. She walked inside to fix up—which had taken her longer than expected, she entered the cab moaning because she had already acquired blisters in her favorite pair of shoes.

"Stupid person. God, have I been so unlucky? Frickin birthday's next week and God. I wish I had come home and urgh. Stupid Draco for landing a flat beside that arrogant, bitch of a—" She stopped herself, if Ronald, or her parents had seen or heard her now, she would be disgrace to the family. Pathetic little Hermione, working for an actor instead of manning a multi-million empire. The ringing of her phone suddenly snapped her out of her thoughts. "Hello?" She sighed.

"Casey, I forgot something in the office, could you bring it to my—"

"I'm already going to my flat, sir. I'm not in the office anymore."

"Then go there." He replied arrogantly.

"I can't sir. I'm already in the elevator."

"But I'm in the elevator too, towards my flat. Go on. Get me my iPod."

"I locked the office sir, no one would enter it."

"Ugh, if it gets stolen it's your fault, then." he said angrily.

Hermione opened to mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the beeping of her phone—he had ended the call. Also the 'ding' of her elevator. She stepped out and walked towards her flat. Not paying attention to the man in a white, button-up shirt, wearing that familiar blazer and...

"So, Casey, do you have my iPod yet?"

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A/N: Do you guys like it? Gahah. Review.