Shielded

They reached Norfolk in the afternoon, and like the previous day, turned north to drive until the sun had started setting. At this point, they yet again pulled over in the first inn they saw, and settled in their rooms. They reasoned that as they would be staying 2 nights at this destination, they would have time to explore the village more tomorrow, and decided to eat dinner in the inn's restaurant. They brought down their books, and other than looking up to order the beef stew and mash from the waitress, they only spoke sparingly to each other. 

Hermione began her research on unconscious recollection while Malfoy continued reading the second book he had selected on Occlumency. She had given him paper and a pen to take notes, and while he struggled a bit with the mechanics of the pen to begin with, he had since adjusted enough to have filled up two full sheets with his thoughts. Hermione couldn’t help but glance at them curiously, but not wanting to be presumptuous, she refrained from outright looking at them.

The hours passed without them moving from their seats, and when Malfoy only ate sparingly again, Hermione ended up finishing the rest of his food – it was too good not to. They worked late into the night, through multiple rounds of patrons, and were the only ones left by the time that Malfoy closed his book, grabbed a new sheet, and wrote down a list of phrases before handing them to Hermione. She scanned it.

Runes for mental manipulation

Runes for mental shielding

Using runes on humans

Dictionary of medical runes

…

And so on. He was clearly not able to find what he wanted to from the provided books – not that she was surprised. What they were looking for was clearly as far from traditional Occlumency as could be imagined without it being something else altogether, and all the books she had brought were quite standard. She raised her eyebrows as two lines stuck out to her.

Albert Hughmont

Magical anchoring

She looked up at Malfoy who was watching her perusal.

“Who is this Albert? And what is magical anchoring?”

“Well, it’s really just a throwaway line in the first book I had been reading through, and the guy who wrote it wasn’t exactly reliable so I’m not too optimistic, but I haven’t been able to shake it…” 

He put the book out in front of him from where it had been laid down on the bench, opened it to the middle, and began flipping through the pages, eyes flitting along each one. “It was in a section that was theorizing on what additional abilities the existence of Legilimency implied, as Legilimency allows for the magical projection of an individual’s awareness into another’s mind. This guy thought that this indicated we should be able to inject other magic, and though he seemed to primarily be caught up on the possibility of being able to project communication and sensations in the host’s mind as well, he did say something… oh where was it… ah! Yes, here.” He flipped the book in Hermione’s direction, pointing to a line on the page that said,

While Albert Hughmont’s research on magical anchoring would imply the ability to imbue long term magic into a magical artifact like the Legilimens’s projection, this author’s proposal would require something more fast-moving in nature rather than a solution so permanent as anchoring.

From there it continued on with theorizing on just such fast-moving options, but Hermione looked up and caught Malfoy’s eye with excitement flitting through her.

“You mean, you think this shield could be some sort of – magical anchor? Or a byproduct of it?”

Malfoy shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not sure. Again, this guy put no effort into putting references for any of his ideas, and I don’t even know if this is real, but I think it’s worth a try. Anyway, I came up with this list,” he tapped the top of the paper Hermione had still been holding, “of all the topics I think would be valuable to investigate that probably aren’t referenced in the books you brought, if anywhere at all. And as we’ll be here for a longer time, I was thinking… well, moreso hoping that you may be able to try to track them down. I would, but I obviously can’t go into any magical bookstores, even if I knew where to get them from,” he concluded ruefully.

Hermione nodded, scanning the list over again.

“I think that should be doable. In fact, we’re quite lucky – I know from my time doing research at St. Mungo’s that there is a very big magical bookstore in Norwich which focuses on medical texts and experimental findings, so if there are sources, we’d find them there, but…” she glanced at him and grimaced, “I don’t think you should come, even if you were to stay in Muggle Norwich. It’s a big city, and I’m worried about you accidentally coming across magic.”

He nodded in reluctant acceptance. “I presumed as much. I wasn’t expecting to come along. I’ll be able to keep looking through everything else we have here in the meantime.”

She chewed her lip in thought. “I just worry for you – what if they come find you while I’m gone?”

“You forget I have a wand of my own,” he said dryly. “If they find me, there’ll be no reason for me not to use it. Besides, they won’t find me, don’t worry. I’ll stay in this inn, and if you show me how, I can order food to myself using the… phone. I won’t even have to leave my room.”

She nodded in acquiescence. “That’s a good plan.” She stifled a yawn before she began gathering her own notes and books. She has been staying up way too late the past few nights, and with her tendency of rising early, it was getting to her. “Are you planning to keep researching?”

Malfoy glanced down to the book he had been reading once more before slamming it shut. “No, I think I’ll head up now as well. I haven’t been sleeping well.” With the dingy light above the booth it was hard to tell, but he almost looked like he was blushing.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. Please let me know if I can help in any way.”

He shook his head quickly before loading everything in his arm and leading their way up the stairs to their rooms. After a quick good night, they both went to their rooms, and Hermione barely finished plaiting her hair in a single plait down her back before shucking her clothes and collapsing in bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

—

The next morning, Hermione woke feeling significantly refreshed, and got ready for the day in a much cheerier mood than she had yesterday. She frowned at her dirty hair, and deciding she’d wash it that night after she returned, she twisted it up in a bun at the base of her neck before pulling on some tights and a warm dress, deeming the bookstore a worthy place to wear something a bit nicer. 

She tugged on her boots and jacket, then quickly jotted down a note explaining her departure, a list of instructions on how to use the phone, and two phone numbers on a scrap of paper before making her way to Malfoy’s door. She knocked twice, waited, and knocked a third time for good measure, decided he was too far asleep to hear, and slid the note under the door. She went down, greeted the front desk staff on her way out, and then crossed to a bakery she had spotted across the street to grab herself some breakfast before getting in the car and driving off.

She followed the backroads to a main road, contemplating a variety of topics as she drove along, from the research project to the beef stew recipe to Malfoy, a topic she lingered on for a while. 

She considered how much she enjoyed working and traveling with him, and couldn’t help but compare it to her adventures with Ron and Harry, whom she loved, but had grown tired of fairly quickly. She had been doing a majority of the academic legwork while Harry followed spontaneous whims as they struck him and Ron had unerringly supported these whims, leaving Hermione to frantically try to adjust and catch up with the changing circumstances. 

Malfoy, in comparison, while surly and a bit temperamental, was logical and pragmatic in his approach, and she felt she could rely on him to complete a task without interference or assistance. She could fully invest in her own subjects while he worked on his, and she could trust him to share anything pertinent she would need to know. It was oddly… liberating.

The weather was looking stormy, and Hermione was fervently hoping she had remembered to put her umbrella in her bag. It was only now that she was half an hour into her journey that she thought she could have most likely just Apparated since Malfoy wasn’t with her, but oh well, nothing to do about that now.

As if her thoughts had conjured him (and as if she hadn’t been thinking about him for the last 10 minutes), her phone rang, and an unsaved number popped up, which she assumed was Malfoy calling from the inn. She picked up.

“Hello?”

“AH!” She heard a thump and the sounds of fumbling on the other line before Malfoy spoke up again. “Granger? Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Hello, Malfoy! Yes I can.”

“AH! Merlin’s beard, this is weird! I can hear you so clearly!”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re doing great! Were my instructions helpful?”

“Yes, thank you. This phone is much better than the previous one with the wheel. It’s easier to see what numbers I’m selecting.”

“Yeah, those phones are pretty outmoded in the Muggle world too. I only knew how to work it because my grandmother had one.”

“Got it. I wanted to practice before calling the front desk for food. I’m glad I did, this is hard to adjust to.”

She laughed again. Malfoy was so endearing when he was flustered.

“Anyway, did you find any books?”

“Malfoy, I’m still on the way there.”

Silence.

“Do you mean you drove?”

She felt herself heat.

“Yes, I didn’t realize how silly that was until a couple of minutes ago. I guess I got in the habit.”

Malfoy groaned on the other end. “Granger, at this rate you won’t be home until tomorrow!”

“Norwich is only an hour away!” she contradicted defensively. “I’ll get there no later than 12, spend an hour or two in the bookshop, then get back before it’s dark!”

Malfoy huffed. “No one in their right minds thinks you’ll only be there for one or two hours. At this rate you probably won’t be back in time for dinner.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Malfoy, I’ll call you when I leave the bookstore, and I promise that it’ll be at 2 the latest.”

“And if you don’t, you owe me a favor,” Malfoy challenged.

“What kind of favor?”

“One of my choosing!”

“Malfoy, that’s so open ended.”

“Don’t you trust me??”

“Of course I do… to take advantage of this!”

He chuckled. “So you’re admitting you’ll take more than two hours.”

“No!”

“So what’s the issue? ”

“Fine! If I fail, which I won’t, I’ll owe you a favor,” she conceded in exasperation.

“Excellent! I’ll make sure to use all the dastardly skills I have to come up with a suitable punishment.”

“Have fun wasting your energy for no reason!” she taunted.

“We’ll see! Anyway, I think I got a hang of this calling business, let me go make breakfast plans.”

“You do that. Expect my call at 2.”

“I’ll be waiting eagerly.”

She smiled. “Bye Malfoy.”

“Bye Granger. ”

She was still smiling when she started heading into Norwich.

—

Hermione was getting frustrated. She had searched for all the magical terms (twice!), and had only come up with two texts: The Art of Imbibing Intangible Objects with Magic by Albert Hughmont (co-authored by O. Doherty), and A Comprehensive Dictionary of Medical and Biological Runes by Thomas St. Thomas. The search on using runes for magical mental manipulation returned nothing, and if she opened the search to all magical mental manipulation excluding Occlumency, no results returned at all, not even a potions book, which confirmed Hermione’s suspicion that the magical world didn’t think of Veritaserum as a magic of the mind.

At this rate, she would need to research all magic of the mind to be able to figure out how to search for mental magic. She huffed in frustration. Oh well, she could peruse a few more shelves randomly before heading back to the inn. She started wondering what Malfoy was up to when she froze, remembering their bet. She had been so lost in her search she had forgotten to track the time. Why hadn’t she set an alarm?? 

She pulled out her phone to check and groaned – it was 16:30. She had spent over 4 hours in this bookstore. She quickly paid for the books she had found and headed out the magical entrance to the Muggle Waterstones above before exiting to find the car she had managed to park on the street. Once she got in, she quickly redialed the number that Malfoy had called from. He picked up on the first ring.

“Granger??”

“Yes, Malfoy, it’s me.”

“Bloody hell, what took you so long?? I know we were joking about you taking a while but I didn’t think it would take you a million years! I was starting to get worried!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. It was surprisingly difficult to find any books – I only ended up getting two, but I had searched all the terms twice and then tried my own to be extra sure.”

He blew out a breath. “Well… alright then. Just don’t do that again.”

She felt a little flustered by his intensity. “I won’t. Again, I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I’m sure I’ll realize in the next 5 minutes that I grossly overreacted.”

She giggled at this. “No, you’re right, you’re relying on me. I shouldn’t have gone so long without sending word. And if it makes you feel better you won the bet!”

“Bet? ” A pause. “Oh right, the bet! Yes, the bet, and I’ll ask a favor of you. Yes. Let me contemplate.”

“Malfoy, did you forget??” She started pulling out her car from its parking spot and heading back the direction she had come from.

“Nooo… okay, yes, but only because I was overwhelmed by having to make my second first phone call, and then I got caught up with researching, and before you ask, no, I found nothing worthwhile” – she let out the breath she had taken to ask – “but I would’ve remembered eventually! ”

“Ugh, I can’t believe I reminded you! I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“You couldn’t have, you’re too honor driven, you Gryffindor .”

“Don’t forget, considered for Slytherin!”

He snorted impolitely into the receiver.

“Ew, that sounded awful on this end. Anyway, I’m going to stop to get petrol, and then I’ll head back. I should be there shortly before 6.”

“Sounds good. See you then. Call if you get bored – I’m getting the hang of this phone thing.”

She laughed again at this. “Same for you. Until then.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

—

Draco looked up when he heard the knock on the door, but before he could call out for entry, Granger opened it and stepped in. He started when he noticed her wearing a dress. He was so used to her in her trousers and jumper or her conservative work clothes that he was oddly conscious of her clothing choice today, despite the fact that he had seen her wearing their school uniform skirts for 6 years.

He shook himself to dispel the reaction. “Typically, when one knocks, one waits for a response. You never know what you’ll walk in on,” he joked. Or well, he meant to joke. Why did that sound… flirty?

She giggled. “Oh please, do not fear for my delicate sensibilities, you’d have to do quite a bit more than be in your pants to shock me,” she quipped with a wave of her hand. Draco somehow felt simultaneously breathless, like laughing, and ashamed at his own response to her. He was going to revisit the conversation of her perception that he disliked her hair whenever he figured out how to do so.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said, trying to come across blase and sounding everything but. He started moving the research materials he had scattered around him in the bed to the side so he could get up to stretch. He felt, more than saw, Granger’s glance at his exposed midriff, and rather than shielding himself, he felt strangely compelled to stretch out the moment. Stupid, he ridiculed himself. She’s probably wondering if he owns any shirts that fit him. He quickly lowered his arms and adjusted his shirt. He needed to get his errant thoughts in order.

“How have you progressed in my absence?” she asked.

“Not well. I just don’t think we’re dealing with Occlumency, or if we are, we’re only dealing with a small element of it. I’m hoping the books you found would help more.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure of that. I only found a rune dictionary and a book co-authored by that Albert guy. I didn’t even get a chance to confirm that it referenced magical anchoring. Though it’s on imbibing intangible objects with magic, so that’s the only thing I’m even slightly optimistic about, and as we discussed yesterday, that isn’t the most promising direction.”

Draco let out a deep sigh. “Oh well, at least it’s a direction. Thank you for doing this.”

“Oh no problem. As you alluded to, it’s no hardship for me to go into bookshops.”

“Ah yes, that reminds me, I know what favor I will request of you.”

Granger looked at him apprehensively. “And what’s that?”

“I need you to show me how Muggles dry their hair. I’m sure there is some sort of efficient option available, and since my hair’s gotten this long, it’s liable to look a little… unkempt if I let it dry naturally.”

Granger laughed loudly. “And we can’t have that! But no problem, I’ll show you after we get back from eating.”

“Sounds good. On that note, dinner?”

“Dinner.”

—

They had managed to come across an Indian place in their search for food, and after Draco had admitted he’d only eaten British food all his life, Granger had gotten very worked up and insisted that he had to try curry. Which she was right about – he had finished his entire plate. He thought, on reflection, that this was the best food they’d had since leaving Granger’s.

When they got back to their rooms, they agreed that Granger would come over later to show Draco how to dry his hair using a Muggle contraption (very uncreatively) named a hair dryer, and they went their separate ways. He finished cleaning up his study materials, deciding he had enough of research for the day, and then went to go shower. He had half an hour before Granger came, and wanted to make the most of it.

Draco loved showers. He always luxuriated in them, and would spend half the time just standing under the stream of water, letting it relax him. He washed his body, then stood. He washed his hair, then stood some more. He wasn’t even thinking of anything. It was almost meditative, how blank his mind felt. He had his eyes shut as he felt the water trickle down his head and back, warming up his muscles and running down his legs in tingly rivulets. He was lost in this trance when he heard his room door shut, indicating someone had entered, and his eyes flew open.

“Malfoy?” he heard a muffled voice of Granger call tentatively from the other side of the bathroom door. Damn, has it been half an hour already?

“One moment!” he shouted back, overly conscious of the fact that he was talking to Granger while technically naked.

“Okay, I’ll just wait out here!”

He quickly shut off the water and stepped out, unceremoniously drying himself off when he suddenly realized he hadn’t brought any clothes into the bathroom with him – in his excitement to shower, he hadn’t recognized the logistical implications that he’d be faced with if Granger had arrived before he finished. The logistical implications of the situation he was in right now. 

He stood frozen, towel wrapped around one leg, letting the conundrum sink in. He was overly aware of his body in a way that he didn’t remember having been before. His brain flitted through the options – he could either ask her to bring him clothes, or he could go out in his towel and grab them. Both sounded horrible. With the latter, the only thing preserving his nudity from her was a single towel that he was holding onto. But with the former, the prospect of her rifling through and touching his trunks was somehow even more alarming. And he’d pull them on, knowing her hands had touched them. The thought was simultaneously distressing and invigorating, and Draco groaned to himself at the realization that he was physically responding to it. No, this would not do. He’d need to bite the bullet and make a decision before this escalated.

“Uh, Granger?”

“Yes?”

“I seem to have forgotten clothes.” Ugh, he sounded so awkward.

“… Do you want me to bring you some?”

Agh, her offering was not helping his predicament. “No, no! I just need to come out and get them, and I won’t be entirely decent. I just thought I’d warn you.”

“Oh! Okay, well I can turn my back so you can be more comfortable.”

“Okay, thank you!” He paused for a moment. “Can I come out now?”

“Yes!” Was she laughing at him? He opened the door a sliver, peeked out, and saw she was seated on the edge of his bed in her pajamas, looking down at one of the books he had been reading with her back facing him. Okay, good.

He dashed out, grabbed the required garments, and ran back to the bathroom, too flustered to be embarrassed by the speed at which he was moving. He quickly got dressed before hanging the towel back up, and then took a deep calming breath, looking at himself in the mirror. His cheeks were slightly pink, but otherwise the stress of this experience wasn’t too apparent. He opened the door and went back out.

Granger, who had been in the same position she was in before, looked up but didn’t turn around. “Is it safe to look? All indecent bits are covered?”

He flushed. “Yep, all good. Sorry about that.”

“No problem at all.” She stood up and turned around to quickly appraise him. He fidgeted, hoping she wouldn’t notice his inappropriate state through his pajama trousers. “I see your hair is still completely drenched. Let’s learn to dry?”

He nodded his assent, then hovered, unsure what to do with himself.

“The hair dryer is in the bathroom. Do you want me to dry your hair this first time, or do you want to do it?”

“Oh… maybe you could do it, and explain as you go? Then I can do it next time.”

She laughed, and said, “I would’ve left my hair wet for you to practice, but unfortunately my hair doesn’t do well with Muggle hair dryers. Even drying spells are somewhat problematic.” She waved at her hair wryly – now that she pointed it out, it really was poofier than usual. He hadn’t noticed. The thought of being able to touch her hair filled him with so much unexpected yearning it made him anxious, and he became immediately grateful for the fact that an obstacle stood in the way.

She continued, “But yeah, your plan sounds good. Could you put the desk chair in front of the bathroom mirror? It’ll make it easier for me to reach the top of your head.”

He did as he was told, and Granger followed him into the bathroom, pulling a contraption out of one of the cabinet drawers that looked a bit like a Bubotuber – bulbous on one end and elongated on the other. She held it by a handle attached to the bulbous end, and took the cord that Draco knew powered Muggle devices and attached it to the wall. He sat down in the chair he had carried in, and she positioned herself next to him. The bathroom was small, and she was very close. He tried not to fidget.

“So, you turn the hair dryer on using these toggles on the handle,” she said, showing a set of switches. “One controls the speed of the air flow, the other controls the heat. The higher the heat and air flow, the faster your hair will try, but also the higher the chances it’ll damage your hair. The speed toggle also acts as an on-off switch, so you can move it between off, low, and high settings, like this –” She used her thumb to nudge the lower toggle, and Draco jumped a bit as a loud whirring sound came out of the device. She had to shout to be heard over it.

“Air is now coming out of the dryer. Look –” and without warning, she grabbed his hand, which had been laying on his thigh, flipped it over so it was palm up, and pointed the elongated end of the device at it. She was still holding the back of his hand with her own, looking at him expectantly. He felt a tingle down his spine, though he didn’t know if it was from the feeling of the air on his palm or from the pressure of her hand on his. When he realized she was waiting for a reaction, he nodded, and she smiled. Her face was very close like this.

“And like I said, you can adjust the speed –” she thumbed the toggle and the air on his palm started blowing harder, “– and the temperature.” The air started blowing warmer. Then she used the toggle to turn the device off again, and the whirring ceased. She dropped his hand, but the tingly awareness didn’t go away. In fact, it may have increased. Draco worked hard to modulate his breathing.

“From there it’s very straightforward. You basically just need to direct this air stream across your hair, and that’ll help the water evaporate. I’ll do it for you this time, but for when you do it yourself, you need to make sure to keep it moving – it’s bad for your hair to keep direct heat applied to one spot for a longer period, and the movement also helps make sure your hair all dries at an even rate. I guess more than anything just watch how I do it. I’ll keep the temperature and speed low to begin with, but if the process is too slow, we’ll hike it up. Your hair seems quite fine, so I think lower settings should be sufficient.”

He nodded, deferring to her judgement, and settled back in his seat.

She turned the dryer back on and, as she had explained, began directing the air to blow at the top of his head, swiveling it around the area slowly, before shifting the movement to the back of his head, the nape of his neck, and then above both ears, then repeating the cycle. With nothing else to look at, he watched her in the reflection of this mirror. She was deeply engrossed in the task, the tip of her tongue clamped between her teeth, as she meticulously maneuvered the dryer around his head with careful precision. She was such a perfectionist in every task she set her mind on, he contemplated. It was unnerving to have the full focus of her attention honed in on him.

Was she the same way in other aspects of her life? He knew she got similarly absorbed in cooking and research. Was she like this with her relationships with other people? He could imagine her making careful agendas for each person, detailing when she would meet with them and making sure no one felt neglected. 

He recalled that she mentioned having dated Weasley. Was she like that in romantic relationships? He was suddenly sure she was. She would be fully invested in nurturing the relationship, carefully assessing different aspects to evaluate strengths and weaknesses, addressing negatives immediately and fully celebrating the positives. 

The stupid weasel git probably couldn’t handle her meticulous approach, he thought disdainfully. He could imagine Weasley griping at it, treating it as a burden instead of recognizing the blessing it was to be with someone who invested so deeply in fostering equanimity. Having been a member of his own fair share of unbalanced relationships preserved through distance and suppression, Malfoy knew only too well how precarious they felt.

He was broken out of his ruminations at the feeling of a hand ruffling through the hair at the back of his head, and he froze.

“Oh, sorry,” Granger yelled over the sound of the dryer, yanking away her touch. Was she blushing? She was definitely focusing too hard on the back of his head. “Your hair is thicker than it looked. I think I may need to move around the strands to reach the roots – it’s most important that we dry that. Do you mind?”

Yes. No. Yes. “No,” Draco yelled back. “Go ahead.”

Finally glancing at his eyes in the reflection, she saw the confirmation, and lifted her hand again slowly. She probably thought he had been startled by the suddenness of the movement, and that going slow would avoid the alarmed response from happening again. Unfortunately, it had been the fact that he was being touched at all that had shocked Draco. Like when they had made the Unbreakable Vow, all his awareness had locked in on the contact, setting his insides on fire and settling them all at once. 

She hadn’t been touching him long enough to let him revel in it, but with her slow approach, the anticipation at the contact was building up, making his stomach churn. He tensed his jaw, bracing himself, but it didn’t help – the second her fingers wove their way into his hair to ruffle them, he had to use every ounce of self-control he had not to groan out loud. He still felt a growl in his chest from the suppressed sound, and he glanced at Granger, but it appeared the sound of the hair dryer had drowned it out, as she remained focused on her task, cheeks still smattered with a pink hue.

Ah, but this felt so nice. As her hand continued moving around his head, almost chasing it with the dryer, he felt his muscles relax, and his eyes flutter closed. Every cell in his body was locked in on the contact. The pattern was the same as before, and the predictable repetition calmed him. He instinctually leaned into her touch as it made its expected sweep to the back of his head, and after a brief hesitation, she continued, but with more pressure against him. He almost groaned again. His heart was feeling so inflated – too inflated. It was uncomfortable, but in the best way Draco may have ever experienced. He could bask in it all day.

He felt her motions slowing, and he opened his eyes, locking on the reflection of hers immediately. Had she been watching him? She was still very flushed, and looked to be breathing deeper than normal. When they made eye contact, she quickly darted her gaze back down to her hands, and almost reluctantly lowered the one on his head while using the other to turn off the hair dryer. The silence was deafening, and Draco couldn’t help but notice he could hear both of them breathing.

“All done,” Granger said almost unevenly, breaking the silence. She looked at him again. He swallowed.

“Hermione?” he said. They both visibly started at his use of her first name.

“Yes?”

“I don’t dislike the plaits. I… I like them.” He didn’t know where the admission came from, and had no idea what compelled him to bring it up in this manner, with no finesse or explanation, but it was out there now.

She looked at him a beat longer, before nodding in apparent understanding. “Okay.”