Chapter 8
All Hallow’s Eve
The knife wasn’t working out as Hermione had hoped. She sat back to take in the entirety of the pumpkin she was carving. She should have grabbed a serrated knife and maybe a small pairing knife for the details. She briefly considered calling for Mipsy but was too stubborn. Earlier when helping Hermione gather her carving supplies, Mipsy had offered to carve the pumpkin with magic. “Miss would like yes?” Mipsy kept glancing nervously to the moat. ”No, Mipsy. And I already told you there’s no possibility of kappas in England.” Hermione had declined a little too harshly. She felt ashamed afterward, but she was frustrated. She missed her magic. If she couldn’t carve the pumpkins with magic, she was determined to carve them herself.
From this angle, the eyes were definitely crooked and she could still see pumpkin guts hanging inside. Great. Just great. Theo had thought her mad when she told him her plans to carve pumpkins the muggle way. It was Halloween though and it bothered her that not a single decor could be found. She looked down at the knife and slid it along the silk covering her thigh. It was so sharp. She slid it back down her thigh and up again. Entranced, she did it again. What would happen if she just plunged it into her thigh?
From directly in front of her, “What did that pumpkin do to piss you off?”
Shit. When did he get here? She thought he would be gone most of the evening at a Halloween party and had planned to visit the mirror of erised in his absence. She was struggling with Malfoy’s words and wanted to seek reassurance from the mirror. For years she had dived head-first into dangerous situations for her friends. Be it setting fire to Snape’s robes first year, riding a thestral she couldn’t see to break into the Department of Mysteries, or obliviating her parents to join the horcrux hunt Dumbledore had left for Harry. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became with Harry. Why was it that two snakes rescued her? Wasn’t it supposed to be the lions who were brave of heart? She had never put much stock into the whole house business, the sorting hat seemed questionable antiquated magic from her first read through Hogwarts a History, and yet deep down she had expected her friends to come.
Hermione eyed his expensive dragon leather boots, trailing upwards, she took in his trousers fitted over muscular thighs and slim hips. A black button-down tucked into a black leather belt with a silver snake buckle head and a heavy black winter robe stitched with a green so dark it was almost black. Her eyes lingered on his throat where the top two buttons were undone. She watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. She was mad for thinking Malfoy was so fit. Meeting his eyes, she shivered but not from the crisp chill of fall.
Her eyes moved to follow his hand into his robe as he removed his wand. Hermione flinched. Malfoy frowned slightly at it and said, “Accio robes.”
Hermione mentally kicked herself for flinching. She knew Malfoy had been avoiding her since the night he found her crying at the mirror in his room. At first, she had avoided him as well. To say the least, the encounter had been awkward. Instead, she had returned to questioning Theo on their afternoon walks, hoping she could avoid questioning Malfoy altogether. But when that proved pointless and she had resigned herself to seek out answers from Malfoy, he was nowhere to be found.
Dark blue robes zoomed into Malfoy’s hand and he held them out to her. “It’s cold.”
She eyed him warily as she stood and took the robes. Shrugging them on she said, “If you returned my wand, I could cast a warming charm.”
With an impressive display of wandless magic, he cast a warming charm on her. Hermione crossed her arms.
“I intend to.”
“Wonderful,” she said uncrossing her arms and holding out a hand palm up.
“Eventually.”
Hermione frowned and recrossed her arms.
They stood silently for a moment before Malfoy broke the tension. “So why is it exactly that you’re maiming this poor pumpkin?”
Irate from the denial of her wand Hermione said, “Maiming? I am carving the pumpkin, Malfoy. Even a blonde git like you should be able to see that.”
Looking pointedly at the pumpkin he said, “A hack job really.”
Glancing down at her sad attempt she cleared her throat. “Well, I must admit I am a little out of practice. It’s been quite a few years since I celebrated Halloween with muggles.” Her heart clenched remembering the years in primary school when her parents would put on a spooky movie and together they would carve pumpkins.
“Hmm. I didn’t know muggles celebrated All Hallow’s Eve.”
“Yes, Malfoy.” she condescended. “Muggles celebrate Halloween. It's not unique to wizards. I would even say they do it better.”
“Granger I’m not-”
Hermione ignored him, a full tirade in progress. “In the wizarding world, there are no costumes, no trick or treating, no scary movies.” She held up her fingers as she counted. “No fall festivals, pumpkin patches. Never have I bobbed for an apple since entering the wizarding world. Oh and apples! Where are the apples here on Halloween? Never in my eight years here have I been offered a caramel apple on a stick. Really, I could criticize the general lack of food on a stick.”
In the pause it took for her to inhale Malfoy blurted out. “Merlin Granger! If you had let me finish, you would have heard me say I didn’t mean muggles were inferior to wizards. Just that I didn’t know they celebrated.”
His words caught her off guard but then the slur in her arm throbbed and she was reminded of who he was. Pursing her lips she raised her eyebrows and said, “They celebrate. I’d say their celebrations are superior.”
Malfoy observed her before saying, “Did you say food on a stick?”
Hermione faltered, not prepared to defend food on a stick to him. In her most prim voice, “Yes. Food on a stick. A delicacy really.”
Malfoy’s lips turned upwards. “A delicacy you say?”
His smugness grated on her and she refused to back down. She would defend food on a stick with her dying breath. “Yes. A real shame you’ll never get to experience.”
“Hmmm,” Malfoy smiled broadly. Stepping quickly he grabbed her hand and with a turn apparated. Hermione stumbled and snatched her hand from his. “How dare you! You can not just-”
“Shhh, Granger. We don’t want to break the statute of secrecy.”
Hermione gaped. They were in a muggle town. Malfoy had just apparated them into a crowded Muggle borough filled with trick-or-treaters.
“This is right isn’t it?”
“Right? This is, this is… Where are we?”
“This is Sandwich.”
“Malfoy, have you hit your head? How many fingers am I holding up?” Hermione waved her hand around.
Malfoy huffed. “Would you quit waving your hand around like a loon? Merlin, put your hand down Granger. I did not hit my head.”
“I asked you where you took me and you said sandwich. Sandwich is a food Malfoy.”
“I am perfectly aware of what a sandwich is Granger. You asked me what town this is. This is Sandwich. I can not account for the intelligence of muggles and the naming of their towns. But I am told this town’s name is Sandwich.”
What a prat. “Why are we here, Malfoy?”
“I am a privileged man Hermione. If you say muggle Hallow’s Eve is superior, then I must experience it for myself.”
Two small children ran past them to ring the bell of the closest home. The smaller of the two wore a sheet with two eye holes cut out and the other a bright primary color jumpsuit with a matching fro wig and a round red nose.
“What is that?”
“Privileged, but not very bright. They’re children, Malfoy. ”
Frustrated, “Yes, I know they’re children, thank you. But what are they-”, he gestured the length of himself.
“They’re trick or treaters Malfoy. Children. I just told you about them.”
Rolling his eyes he says “Obviously, but why is the small one wearing a bed sheet?”
“That’s a ghost.”
“Now who’s being dumb? That is not at all what a ghost looks like.”
Hermione shrugs. “Muggles don’t believe in ghosts. At least most don’t. To them, that’s a ghost. A costume. It's just make-believe Malfoy.”
“Hmmm, and you say muggles are the superior ones? And what exactly is that monstrosity supposed to be?” he nods towards the taller of the two children.
Hermione smiles as she says, “That? That’s a clown.”
“A clown? And are clowns make-believe too?”
Hermione’s grin grows mischievously. “No, Malfoy. Clowns are very real.”
Malfoy's face contorts in horror. “Ugh.” Shuddering he says, “I’d rather face the bad end of blast-ended skrewt than whatever that is.”
Hermione threw her head back and laughed.
Wiping the tears from her eyes she noticed him eyeing her contemplatively. Malfoy’s stare sobered her. Grabbing her hand he began pulling her through the crowds of costumed children and parents on the sidewalks. “Caramel apple? Where would one find one of these delicacies?”
Pulling her hand from his Hermione stopped. “Why did you apparate us here Malfoy?”
“For caramel apples obviously.”
“Be serious. Why are we really here?”
Malfoy paused grimacing as if it pained him to say, “He was there tonight. I hadn’t expected him to be. Twirling a new wand. And Greyjoy. I thought it was just to be my parents tonight, but Greyjoy was there. And he had some muggles with him, and it being a full moon.”
Hermione glanced up at the full moon hanging low in the sky knowing where this story was going.
“-opened the door. Told them to run and they scattered like balloons in the wind. Maybe they thought they had a chance. People started taking bets. Greyjoy well he went out, into the moonlight.” Hermione watched Malfoy pale in the moonlight. “Anyways…” and he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Ok.” nodded Hermione. “So, caramel apples then?”
“Caramel apples then.”
They walked in silence, heading towards the center of town. Children ran laughing, manic on sugar. Malfoy had unknowingly confirmed Harry’s assumption that Voldemort was now in possession of the elder wand. She needed to get back to her friends. All of these children were at risk each day not spent hunting horcruxes. She had let Malfoy’s words cause her to question her friend's loyalty. This had just affirmed to her what she had already known, Harry was more important.
In the center of town, a stage was set up with the current entertainment being a pet costume contest. The mayor had just proclaimed the cocker spaniel in a sandwich costume to be the victor. Mafloy cocked an eyebrow at her, but Hermione was too lost in her thoughts to take the bait. She led him over to one of the carts selling food.
The man working the cart wore a black cape and cheap plastic vampire teeth. “What can I do for you, honey?”
“Hello. We would like two caramel apples, please?”
“Any toppings?”
Hermione nudged Malfoy who was enthralled with the costumed cats being brought on stage. “Malfoy?”
“Have you seen-”
“Malfoy! Pay attention!”
The man smiled at her awkwardly, revealing his plastic pointed canines. “Toppings, nuts, chocolate drizzle, sprinkles?”
“Chocolate drizzle, please.” Malfoy flashed his teeth at the man and Hermione’s pulse quickened. She needed to stop thinking of Malfoy this way.
“For me as well.”
Hermione studiously watched the man drizzle chocolate on their apples to avoid noticing how Malfoy’s hair shined in the moonlight. Because she obviously had not noticed that.
“That’ll be eight pound fifty.”
“Oh.” Shit, she thought.
Malfoy whispered something and then handed a few notes to the man. “Keep the change.”
They walked over and sat on an empty bench. “You carry muggle money?”
“I, uh, charmed some parchment.”
Hermione painfully forced down a half-chewed bite so she could exclaim, “You can’t! That’s-well that’s stealing, Malfoy.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“I paid him.”
“No. He thinks you paid him. That charm won’t last forever and then what?”
Malfoy shrugged holding his uneaten apple by the stick.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You wanted an apple.”
“Not like this. God, Malfoy. I don’t want a stolen apple. It’s wrong.”
Malfoy looked down at his left arm in contemplation. Hermione knew what mark was under his sleeve. She knew what mark was on her matching arm. He looked up at her as the wind blew her curls around her face. He reached up slowly and tucked a curl behind her ear. “I guess I’ve done a lot of wrong things for you.”
—--
Later that night, after luxuriating in a warm bubble bath, Hermione found a bag on her bed with a note attached. She recognized Malfoy’s elegant handwriting from the notes he had taken earlier in the month.
I remember you wearing these.
Curious, Hermione upended the bag to find a stack of muggle jeans and a pair of low top air force ones.