Somewhere with you 5
Chapter 1
Hermione shoved her volunteer uniform into her messenger bag and hurriedly threw on the jean shorts and t-shirt she had packed to change into after her shift. If she didn't rush, she was going to be late for her History class. Glancing in the mirror on her way out of the locker room, she grimaced at her slightly disheveled appearance. Summer as always had tanned her skin and dusted her nose with light freckles, but her carefully applied eye makeup had mostly worn off after a day cleaning kennels and walking dogs. Her chestnut brown hair was escaping its bun in wispy tendrils. She hated only having half an hour between her volunteer post at the Humane Society and her evening class at the local community college, but it was simply the only way she could fit both into her schedule. No doubt the smell of cat litter followed her like a cloud. The rest of the class was probably grateful she only ever arrived in time to find a seat in the back of the room. However, she couldn't just abandon her volunteer work due to this small inconvenience. Her work with S.P.E.W. being somewhat curtailed during the summer holiday, she had gone to the next best Muggle option. So many animals were being mistreated right in her own backyard! While the letter writing campaign for S.P.E.W. had been a minor success, generating nearly five Galleons in funds to promote the freeing of the unfortunate house elves, Hermione had to admit that caring for abused or abandoned animals was slightly more gratifying. At least dogs wagged their tails and looked at you with loving eyes. Most house elves were too brain washed to see the injustice of their situation. Hermione was confident that one day she would make them see reason, but she was less confident that that day would occur before her fiftieth birthday.
Rummaging in her bag for her keys, Hermione quickly walked down the sidewalk to where her bicycle was chained in the alley. Her hand brushed her wand, and she was struck with a sudden wave of longing for Hogwarts and her friends. Though she would be back in the Great Hall watching the Sorting soon enough, she still missed the feeling of belonging the wizarding community afforded her. Though she kept busy with Muggle schooling and her volunteer work during the summer break, she couldn't help but wish it was September. She had been raised in the Muggle world, but after discovering she was a witch at the age of eleven, she never again felt truly comfortable. Pretending to be that Granger girl, who attended the elite Scottish boarding school and spent her summers at home buried in more studies, wore on her nerves. Sometimes she caught herself pitying her parents and their friends, with their washing machines and motor vehicles. She was privileged to be able to perform a simple drying charm, and soon she would be allowed to Apparate as well. Living as a Muggle was tiresome after experiencing all the possibilities of a world with magic. Shaking her head, she admonished herself for such thoughts. Muggles were ingenious in contriving to live without the benefits of magic, and all these feelings of privilege and importance were precisely the sort of thing she abhorred about some in the Wizarding world.
Weaving her way through the pedestrian traffic, Hermione glanced at her wristwatch. She would just barely make it to her class on time. Though her education at Hogwarts was all she would need to find a good job in the Wizarding world, Hermione felt a Muggle education was an important thing to have as well. One just never knew what skills would be necessary in the coming years. Many Muggleborn students also took summer classes, mostly to please parents still uncertain about the type of future a Hogwarts education offered. Most considered it an inconvenience to their summer holiday, but Hermione relished the chance to learn more about the world she was born into. After all, it was part of who she was. Some classes, such as Chemistry, reminded her of Potions. And Western Civilization was made all the more fascinating after her years of History of Magic to explain away some of the trickier aspects of Muggle history. For instance, had Elizabeth I's most devoted servant William Cecil not been a wizard, the fate of the Spanish Armada and England might have been very different. Walking briskly down the sidewalk towards the school, she caught sight of a familiar flash of silvery blonde hair. She stopped dead in her tracks. There were only two people she knew of with hair that shade, and one of them was currently imprisoned in Azkaban. Could it be Draco Malfoy? In Muggle London? What could Hogwarts' biggest supporter of pure blood supremacy be doing wandering about mixing with mere Muggles?
With barely any thought to the lecture class she would be missing, Hermione ducked behind a gaggle of unruly teenagers and kept an eye on Malfoy's back as he worked his way through the crowd. He dressed simply in slacks and a pale grey Oxford shirt, and his blonde hair fell just past the collar. He had abandoned the slicked back look of years past, and though she couldn't see his face she imagined this was a significant improvement. She smiled as she thought of his chagrin at having to don Muggle clothing for any errand, but started when she imagined just what sorts of errands the Malfoy family had been known to run. Handing out Dark artifacts, torturing innocents… Supporters of the Dark Lord, the Malfoy family could be up to no good in Muggle London, and Hermione intended to find out exactly what the slender blonde boy was doing.
Cursing her inability to use her wand to perform even a simple Concealment charm, she was forced to stay several people away from Malfoy to avoid being seen. She shuddered to think what he might do if he discovered her following him, and wrapped her fingers around her wand. Just in case, she told herself. Better to be in front of the Wizengamot for use of underage magic than trying to explain to Muggle police any horrid curse Malfoy might aim at her. She was grateful that at least her appearance was relatively nondescript. Malfoy had only ever seen her in the billowing black robes and pointed hats all Hogwarts students wore, he might not look twice at the young girl in a plain lavender top, shorts, and trainers boarding the bus several paces behind him. As he made his way to the back, she chose a seat near the front and sat quickly, trying to formulate a plan. In this spot she could watch for when he got off, but how to follow him without being noticed? Surely if they were the only two people who left at a stop he would look at her? She briefly considered letting her hair down to hide behind the long brown curls, but thought better of it. Malfoy had commented more than once on her "bushy" hair, and while the description was unfair now after her mastery of styling products, it could still trigger recognition. After all, she had spotted him through hair color alone.
Comforting herself that women who wore their brown hair in careless buns were a dime a dozen in London, she tried to plan. Approaching Malfoy would be foolish, it was hardly as though their relationship was cordial enough to explain her wanting to have a civil chat between acquaintances. He had tormented her throughout their years at school, and at the end of last term, she and her friends had been partially responsible for his father ending up in Azkaban. No, Malfoy would be unlikely to do anything but hex her if she were to try to speak with him. Indeed, if he caught sight of her she wouldn't put it past him to Stun her in the middle of London just to get her out of the way. He could be carrying out a mission for Voldemort, and he would hardly want a spying Muggleborn getting a look at his activities. Hermione considered sending for back up, but dismissed the idea as soon as it came to her. Who would care that Draco Malfoy was traveling around London dressed as a Muggle? So was she. Any adult she knew would write off her concern as a childish grudge, and she knew they all had bigger things to worry about. Ever since Voldemort's appearance at the Ministry of Magic, the wizarding world teetered on the brink of full scale war. While the Death Eaters had contented themselves mainly with scattered incidences of Muggle torture, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort made a serious bid for power.
At any rate, there was no good way to send a message even if someone would have believed her. Surely someone would notice if she sent a Patronus, and no one would be checking their DA coins over the summer holiday. She was alone. Heart pounding, Hermione glanced surreptitiously about the bus. What if Draco wasn't the only Death Eater around? Though she didn't recognize anyone, it hardly mattered. She wasn't all that familiar with the Death Eater rosters, and any manner of magical concealment might let the Death Eaters sneak by without her ever knowing. If their plan was to torture and kill more Muggles, how would she stop them? A single, underage witch against the ruthless and powerful witches and wizards Voldemort had at his beck and call. She would stand no chance. Hermione swallowed nervously, her mouth suddenly dry. Perhaps Malfoy really did have an innocent errand in Muggle London. Then, perhaps she was also the Queen of France. Malfoy never did anything innocently.
The bus shuddered to a stop and Hermione tried to appear as small and nondescript as possible as she watched Malfoy exit out of the corner of her eye. He stared straight ahead, giving no appearance of noticing anything around him. Once he had stepped off, Hermione jumped to her feet. "Oops, this is mine," she trilled nervously, nearly tripping over her own feet as she rushed to follow Malfoy. No one paid her any attention as she dropped her fare in the driver's hand, and within seconds she was left standing on the pavement as the bus groaned to life and pulled back into traffic.
Trouble was, she was standing alone. Malfoy was nowhere in sight, having neither walked towards the park to her left nor the rather seedy looking flats on her right. She supposed he might have ducked into one of them, but it seemed nearly impossible that he could have moved so quickly. Had it really taken her so long to pay her fare? Hermione chewed her lip anxiously, and then headed to her right. She had lost him, and the chance to get a glimpse of whatever mischief he was up to. She just hoped it was relatively harmless mischief, and that there was no innocent family somewhere, begging for help that would never come.
Head down, Hermione kicked at a few pebbles as she walked along. She had missed her History class and spoiled her perfect attendance record, all for nothing. She reached for the cell phone her parents had given her, but thought better of it. They would want to know why she was so far from school, and she had never been a very good liar. Somehow, she didn't think they would approve of her stalking her classmates, no matter their reputations.
Hearing a step behind her, Hermione turned. Before she could process what was happening, the unmistakable feel of a wand prodded the small of her back and a strong hand clamped down on her arm as she groped desperately for the wand in her bag. A deep voice said softly in her ear, "Going somewhere, Granger?"