Do You Keep Dogs?

Allen saw right through Hermione's little scheme to separate him from Madam Rosmerta, and found it rather funny. He put a hand on his belt pouch—he had just touched a bag of Galleons when he suddenly thought that he and Hermione were hardly strangers anymore. At a time like this, not settling accounts with her so clearly might actually be better; at the very least, it would subtly strengthen her feeling of being needed.

So the hand Allen had placed on his belt pouch changed course and ruffled Hermione's hair instead, then he turned back and took his seat.

"Oh, you dear little girl, don't worry, I'm already over forty." Madam Rosmerta also felt a little annoyed with herself, because Allen's recent fame had made her somewhat forget his age. But seeing Hermione, who was getting a little jealous on her own behalf like the other young witches from Hogwarts, she could not help looking even happier. "I'll go make you something to eat, so I can feed you little darlings. Cheryl, come and talk with this young lady."

Madam Rosmerta chuckled and even threw a wink at Hermione, whose face was a little red and who had no time to respond, before turning and leaving.

"Would you like something to warm you up? That rain just now was really something. How about Butterbeer? I noticed before that you and your Gryffindor friends seemed to like it best." The shop assistant, a sweet-looking woman in her thirties with honey-colored hair and a figure that had filled out a little, came over warmly and recommended it to Hermione.

Hermione glanced at her Gryffindor companions, who were still peering in from outside the shop door without daring to come in... and nodded, amused, without refusing.

The shop assistant Cheryl briskly prepared a