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She looked at the door for a second before pouring the rest of her drink down her throat and following him outside, ignoring the wink and lewd grin from the bartender. He was waiting for her just outside the door. Damn the bastard for knowing that she would follow. She couldn't help it. He had piqued her curiosity. "So." She said simply, falling into step with him as he walked.
"So what?" He replied, walking hurriedly along. The night was cold and damp, and no doubt he wanted to be inside. So did she. She could go for a nice warm fire and a blanket.
"You said that perhaps we-" Her words were cut off with a sharp yelp as a hand darted out and grabbed her upper arm tightly.
"I said that perhaps we should leave there." The tone was bitter, acidic. She recognized it well. There was no doubt that this man was one and the same. The same pale face, now more creased and haggard looking. The same large nose. The same greasy, stringy hair. And most importantly, the same horrid personality. "Foolish chit. Wait to speak of such things."
She gave a slight huff. She was being discrete. She always had been. She had, after all, survived the almost two decades since. It hadn't been easy, but she'd done it. One didn't get by in these days without being discrete. She wasn't going to give up the life she had carved out for herself out of her own stupidity. She had never been stupid. Naïve, perhaps, but not stupid. But she followed along obediently. "If you don't mind sir, where exactly are we going?"
"My home." He disappeared down a small street, and she fought to find him in the dim light. The nearest streetlight had long since burned out. She didn't feel safe here. Each house they passed looked more and more like it was about to tumble off of it's foundation and on top of her. She wasn't sure if anyone had lived here in a long time.
He paused in front of house, unlocking a door that creaked as he opened it, seemingly ready to fall off the hinges. The house inside was bare, basic. A threadbare couch was there, along with a chair, and table that looked ready to give out. And the books. That was what caught her eye more than anything, was the books that lined the walls, there had to be at least a thousand crammed along the walls, stacked on top of each other as if shoving and jostling for a position.
He sat down heavily in the arm chair, gesturing to her to sit on the couch. He reached down to retrieve a bottle of scotch and a glass, offering it to her. She declined. She didn't want to think of when the glass was washed last. It wasn't that the place was dirty, but it felt neglected, uncared about. "Are we finally in a place where we can talk?" She asked him, and waited for him to finish the drink to give a response.
"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "Ah yes, always so patient. You have not changed at all since your time in Hogwarts, have you Miss Granger?" She stared down at the couch, and the bare cushion poking its way through. "Except that now you are forced to live without a vital part of your life, are you not?"
"Was it really vital?" She asked. "It was a convienience, yes, but it is necessary for survival?" She watched him as he methodically took a drink and lit a cigarette. "You know those things will kill you." He chuckled. She didn't think she had ever heard him laugh before.
"As will life. There is very little on this planet that will not kill you. As for magic-no, it is not necessary for survival, but we evolved. We were given an extraordinary trait. Are born athletes treated any differently? Born singers? Actors? Musicians?" There was a pause as he looked at her. "Geniuses? No, they all get by without being ostracized. Without being removed from society." Another pause. He had certainly not lost his flair for the dramatic. "Without being killed." He sat back.
She knew him far too well, had sat through too many of his lectures to let the overly dramatic affect her, but he had a point. "Besides, Miss Granger, I do remember you as being quite the activist in your school days. You campaigned for rights for house-elves did you not?" She nodded. "And yet you sit by and watch idly as your own friends get killed. Why?"
She sat there thinking about it. "Because." She said simply. "I was afraid." He sat back in his chair and stared at her through the smoke.
"A very brave reply."
