Chapter 5
Hermione held on to Draco’s arm with a vicelike grip, still not convinced he wouldn’t just apparate her directly to Voldemort or someplace where he could imprison her and torture her for his own sick pleasure. She was taking a huge risk just trusting anyone but placing any trust in her former school enemy was something she never thought she would be doing. Seeing his face on the front page of the daily prophet was jarring though and likely fiddled with her usually very logical brain. Could he have tampered with the paper?
She had nearly come to the conclusion that she should try to lose him somehow when they appeared in a dingy narrow alleyway between two buildings. To their left was a trashcan that had tipped over spilling its contents onto the pavement. The reek of half rotting something hit her nose and she covered it quickly by pulling her cardigan up over it. The alley ended in a high wall at the end and to her right the alley emptied out onto a bustling street.
“Malfoy, where have you taken me?” she said giving him a sidelong look indicating this had better not be where they are camping.
Draco surveyed the area with a bemused expression and smirking said “perfect spot for a tent don’t you think?”
Hermione just gave him a flat stare, she was not amused by this turn of events. She could hardly give him the slip here since he was blocking her exit and she didn’t have a clue where she was and hadn’t had time to figure out her next apparition destination.
“Well obviously this isn’t where we are camping” he rolled his eyes “I’m hungry and I need to eat. You look done in as well and like you haven’t had a proper meal in the 7 years since you disappeared from all known existence. So, follow me and we’ll grab a bite before heading to our actual camping spot. Unless you know of a luxury hotel that serves rebels?” He looked to her for a response.
“No, I do not. Not that I would have the outrageous funds needed for such and expense being as I’m on the lam and all.” Just then her stomach let out a loud rumble “well, get on with it. Take me to this meal you’ve proposed and do tell me how you’ll avoid what’s sure to be at least 12 muggleborn traps from here to wherever it is we’re going.” It was honestly shocking that the alley didn’t have at least 3 being an ideal apparition point for wizards.
“Oh that’s easy enough” he said pulling out his wand and giving it a wave and saying an incantation she couldn’t quite make out. Once he cast the spell, holding his wand aloft above them, he made a few figure eight patterns over their heads and then tucked his wand back inside his cloak. Hermione experienced what felt like a second skin settling over her body and then constricting ever so slightly. “There, we’re as good as muggles now and the traps should slide right over us without being triggered.”
“What in Merlin’s name was that?” she demanded. That wasn’t a spell she was familiar with and she knew a great many spells now having had the last 7 years to do nothing but read. That is when she wasn’t crying, drinking, or continuously trying to stay hidden.
“That, my dear, was a new spell developed by a friend who is very adept at counter curses and spell innovations. You likely hadn’t seen the Tentacular orifice hex either because it was also developed recently by him”
“Him who?” He had started walking towards the bustling street beyond and she was having to work to catch up to him and his long strides.
“We’ll discuss that soon. I could eat a whole hippogriff right now and can’t explain all the details on an empty stomach. Its far too long of a story and I’d likely waste away before we got to the good parts”
He was striding down the street in front of her and every 15 steps or so she felt the spell encompassing her body snag on something. That must be the traps… She wondered how the Death Eaters handled witches and wizards suspended and immobile in front of all these muggles. She asked Malfoy to see if he had the information.
“Oh, those nasty traps no longer suspend muggleborns, they transport them to a new location that’s constantly manned by several Death Eaters on watch. Its basically a portkey as the spell is keyed to a certain pebble or bit of rock lying on the street. We’re not sure of the location captives are taken to because it changes every few months and this new location is rather tricky to track”
There were too many questions rolling around in Hermione’s head. Did Draco Malfoy have a team of people? Was it just him and a friend? He mentioned a friend but he seemed to allude to more than just them working on tracking and spell development. Wo was he working with? The other Slytherins that had seemingly tried to kill Voldemort?
They had apparently arrived at their destination because Draco was holding a door open, and with a flourish of one hand, was bowing her in. Rolling her eyes yet again (this seemed to be the theme of the day) she walked in to a quaint little eatery with mismatched chairs and upturned coffee mugs of various styles set out on the tables. Scanning the place she saw a few other people talking and eating and a sign that said “please seat yourself!”
Choosing a booth near the back they both sat opposite each other. Before either had the chance to speak a plump waitress in black jeans and a black t-shirt with a curved logo that said “March Hare House” and included a rabbit in a top hat underneath the text. She was smiling at them and held a little pink notepad and feathered pen in her hand.
“What can I get y’all?” they must be in the southern part of America then since Hermione wasn’t aware of anywhere else that spoke with such deliberate sugary sweetness and used “y’all” in such a drawn out way like it was 12 letters long instead of 4.
Draco gestured at her and said “ladies first” which was very off putting because she hadn’t been prepared for him to be a gentleman given his past. She felt her eyebrows come together in confusion at his behavior, and was it just her or did he seem to be staring at her forehead? Was there something on it, a piece of leaflitter, a cat hair, a bogey? The waitress let out a small clearing of the throat and she realized she had been staring into Malfoys grey eyes trying to discern what had happened to him, this wasn’t the Malfoy who had once called her mudblood and tried to make their lives hell at school.
“I’ll have a coffee, cream, and sugar please. I haven’t decided on what to eat quite yet.” She peered down at her menu but wasn’t reading any of it, still trying to puzzle out what the bloody hell had happened to Draco Malfoy. Body snatchers? Was he imperiused? She tried to look into his eyes more and see if there was a glazed expression which would indicate the imperius curse in use.
“I’ll take coffee, light cream, no sugar please; and I’ll need a moment to look over the menu” Draco smiled at the woman as she walked off to get their coffees.
“What is wrong with you?” Hermione couldn’t hold it in any longer, she had to know why he was being so nice to her, to the muggle waitress… “did you get a brain transplant of something?”
Draco raised his eyebrows at her “is that even possible? And what do you mean ‘what is wrong with me?’”
“I don’t think brain transplants are possible but I wouldn’t know what advancements have been made in the past 7 years so maybe they perfected the procedure and you were a test subject. Were you? A test subject, that is?” she tilted her head to the left and squinted her eyes as if that would help determine what was going on with him. She probably looked quite deranged to anyone who might glance over from another table.
“I assure you I was not part of any tests or trials transplanting foreign brains into my skull. I will explain everything as soon as I eat. Now, please let me order before I decide to eat you instead of my body weight in pancakes.” Somehow he made the part about eating her sound quite scandalous, or maybe it had just been a very long time since she had any human interaction. She wondered if she still had that thing she picked up in a muggle shop and had hidden… she pondered feeling anything other than hopelessness and anger. It might be nice, she thought, to feel something other than hopeless anger at her situation.
The waitress came back and took their orders. Hermione ordered a reasonable amount of food while Draco stayed true to his word and ordered enough food to feed at least 6 people plus leftovers.
The food arrived and the they both ate in silence until the plates in front of them were nearly empty. Draco must have a stomach the size of an erumpent because he ate almost all of the food he ordered which included 12 pancakes, 16 slices of bacon, an entire plate of crispy potatoes, 6 eggs cooked over easy, and a cinnamon roll for “dessert.” She was finished long before he was but was able to snag a muggle newspaper off of one of the recently vacated tables and she occupied her time, between Malfoy stuffing his face and what she hoped would be an enlightening story, with current events. She decided she couldn’t discern any dark wizarding influence in the lives of muggles, at least in this town, unless you counted several incidents of alligators wearing underwear which had to forcibly be removed from them in order to keep the waterways clean of undergarments. That sounded less like dark magic or muggle baiting than just a witch or wizard having a bit of fun watching muggles wrestle the briefs off of an enraged alligator.
Draco finally set his napkin down on the table and she saw him discreetly draw his wand out underneath the table and mutter a muffliato charm and a notice-me-not charm presumably to keep the waitress and any others from listening in. Setting her paper down, she looked at him expectantly.
“Well?” Hopefully she would finally get some answers now.