CHAPTER 11
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A/N: Sorry for the delay - blame wedding season! And Amtrak, blame them too. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! Thanks for the reviews! Oh, and I own nothing of the vast Harry Potter estate. xoxo!-Wing
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Draco awoke on Saturday morning to a sound he was quickly getting used to: an angry Hermione stomping around the apartment. He yawned and stretched before groggily stumbling out to the kitchen to see what was the matter this time. Hermione shook the newspaper at him angrily, before beginning to read aloud the article that had prompted her rage.
"Yes, dear readers, the infamous and bloodthirsty Draco Malfoy honestly believes that he can convince us of his innocence by serving soup and promising charitable donations after he regains his fortune (if, heaven forbid, he is given the opportunity!)!" Her voice grew louder as she read, until she was practically shrieking "opportunity."
"Well, at least she didn't mention you at all this time," Draco added with another yawn.
"Oh there's a whole paragraph reserved for that. Apparently I'm using my intelligence for manipulation, viewing the public of the wizarding world as my puppets. Apparently I'm exploiting my fame and good name to free a vicious criminal. APPARENTLY I'm finally displaying my true loyalties – to the side of darkness instead of light!" She was shouting again and Draco tiredly threw up his arms in surrender.
"Ok ok, I get it." He reached out and took the paper from her, tossing it onto the counter. "I don't know why you care about all of that rubbish. No one believes it anyway." He reached for a mug and the pot of coffee.
She narrowed her eyes at him and stomped over to her bookshelf, practically seething. Seemingly at random, she selected book after book, stacking them on her coffee table until she had 4 teetering piles. She retrieved some parchment and a quill and sat down on her couch, surveying the sources she had collected. She looked back to Draco, who was still leaning against the counter sipping his coffee.
"And what, may I ask, are you planning to research this morning?" Draco asked, trying to hide his laughter.
"I need to figure out how Rita Skeeter is making it past the wards that I have so carefully been putting in place. Do you think that animagi require different wards?" She asked and reached for a book midway down the second pile, carefully removing it and leaving the pile in an even more precarious state.
"Maybe you made a mistake when you put the wards in place." Draco suggested.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him again, her scowl making it perfectly obvious that his suggestion was preposterous, and turned back to her research.
Draco thought about helping her, but needed to get ready for his day with Harry and Ron. He left her there, flipping through books and marking pages with scraps of parchment, angrily muttering to herself.
Draco was happy to leave when Harry and Ron picked him up for their self-declared "guys' day." The problem, they soon learned, was that they didn't really know what that entailed. They ended up at Diagon Alley, absently wandering past busy shops, Ron annoyingly kicking a pebble until Draco kicked it into a ditch. Ron scowled, but Harry shot Draco a thankful look.
A lot had changed in Diagon Alley – many shops had been rebuilt and reopened, but others had disappeared. In their place were some new establishments – a new wand shop, a couple of new robe stores, and a competitor to Quality Quidditch Supplies, although the boys didn't expect that one to last long.
One of the strangest additions to Diagon Alley was a number of kiosks stationed a few blocks apart purporting to sell Death-Eater-protection charms. They were similar to what had been sold during the war effort to "protect" people from Voldemort (and the boys suspected that many of the products were actually just left over from a few months before and had been repurposed and relabeled). Now, though, they were specifically marketed to detect and protect one from rogue Death Eaters.
Ron made a big joke of pulling Draco away from one of the kiosks they passed, 'for his own protection.' Harry laughed, Draco rolled his eyes, and the wizard manning the kiosk shot them a spiteful glare.
They visited Quality Quidditch Supplies, where Draco helped Harry choose a present for Ginny. They ate ice cream at the newly reopened Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour (run by Florean's grandson Finian) and spent most of the morning in Weasley Wizard Wheezes checking out the new products. Ron especially enjoyed Draco's misadventures, being relatively unfamiliar with the Weasley products.
They would have visited more shops, but Diagon Alley was crowded with Hogwarts students and their parents stocking up on supplies and textbooks for another year. All three watched the students hungrily, nostalgic about their own pre-school trips.
The atmosphere affected Draco especially. He had missed his parents since their separation in March, but this tableaux before him sharpened the pangs. When Harry suggested that they go to his place for an afternoon of Quidditch and an evening of poker, he readily assented, eager to leave the happy scene behind.
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"Read 'em and weep, boys!" Draco showed Harry, Ron, George, Seamus, and Neville his full house. The rest of the men groaned and threw their cards down, rolling their eyes as Draco swept the chips from the center of the table back go his ever-growing hoard.
"I can't catch a single card!" lamented Neville.
The boys had been initially hesitant to spend the evening in the company of one of their recent enemies. After a few hands and rounds of firewhiskey, however, they were all reminiscing as if they had been best mates at Hogwarts.
"Remember when Parvati and Padma Patil switched places for an entire week and no one noticed? They threw such a fit!"
"As if we were supposed to notice – they're identical!"
"And remember when Michael Corner got caught sending love notes to Romilda Vane!"
"McGonagall made him read them in front of the whole class!"
Of course, Draco's ferret incident entered the conversation, but he quickly countered with embarrassing stories about each of them.
As the evening progressed and the alcohol grew depleted, the talk grew more serious. After reminiscing about friends lost and the futures they would have had, the men sat in silence, staring at the hand they had held for 15 minutes without realizing that no one had placed a bet.
Finally, Draco spoke up, voicing words he could barely believe came out of his own mouth.
"It's strange, what time does. And being out of school, you know? Like a few years ago, I hated you guys. Hating you was part of who I was – like this piece of me. But now, it just seems… rather pointless, you know? We've just witnessed so much more and every time I look back, we just seem so… young."
"And naïve," Neville added.
"And stupid," Ron contributed, shaking his head.
All sat in silence, thinking over their childhoods, regretting things they said and did, yet forgiving themselves at the same time. Finally, Harry broke the reverie.
"Well, now that Malfoy's extra X chromosome is making an appearance, perhaps we should call it a night," Harry announced.
Draco chuckled. "Yeah, better stop now before I admit that I was always jealous of Neville's toad or always wished to have been born with red hair and freckles."
The group disbanded with a promise to meet at least once a month for cards. Harry apparated Draco back to Hermione's, where the two of them found her asleep on the couch, with three books piled on her stomach and another open on her leg. She was surrounded by notes and quills. Harry carried her to bed before disapparating back to his own home. Draco chuckled as he gathered up her books and notes. He looked over her progress, but it didn't look like she had figured out what Skeeter was up to. No doubt he would hear all about it tomorrow. With that exhausting thought in mind, he stretched his arms above his head and headed to bed.
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Draco's happy mood after such a relaxing and enjoyable guys' night was continued the next day at Weasley Brunch. He happily scooped sausage onto his plate before passing the dish to his right. For the first time in weeks, brunch was Matt-free. He was on a "mission" for his auror training – probably something wimpy and lame that he would play up in stories. In celebration of the prat's absence, Draco helped himself to pancakes and French toast.
His happiness was short-lived however. Not long after everyone started to eat, a knock was heard at the front door. Everyone at the table looked at each other confused – no one ever used that door. Most visitors floo'd to the house, while others came to the back door, which the family used far more often. Molly quickly set down her napkin and hurried to see who was there.
Draco shrugged, assuming it was a family friend or someone from the ministry, and tucked into his enormous celebratory breakfast. His fork was halfway to his mouth, loaded with pancakes, syrup, and strawberries when he heard the one voice that could ruin his entire day.
"I know I said I couldn't make it, but we achieved our objective much sooner than expected, and I just had to stop by for some of your fabulous cooking! I didn't want to alarm you by popping through the floo unexpectedly, so I apparated about half a mile away and walked. What a lovely day for it too!"
Draco set down his fork and put his head in his hands. This man was quickly becoming the bane of his existence.
Molly's excitement could not be contained and she quickly ushered Matt to the table, pushing Draco to the side to squeeze in another chair between him and Hermione for Matt.
Draco stared forlornly at his plate, but found he was no longer hungry. His hopes that breakfast would end soon were dashed, however, when Matt began to regale everyone with the account of his mission.
"We had a tip that Amycus Carrow was hiding out in western Africa, but if he was there, he covered his tracks and disappeared before we got there."
"Where in Africa?" Ron asked.
"Mozambique," Matt responded.
Hermione looked confused. "Mozambique's in southern Africa – do you mean Mali?" she asked.
"Oh, of course, Mali," Matt answered, clapping his hand against his head and laughing. "That's what you get after a morning of inter-continental travel!"
The brunchers (minus Draco) laughed at his joke and continued to ask about his adventure.
"Well we had a tip that Carrow was hiding out there. I know he's not one of the more dangerous death eaters, but it was an honor just to be invited, really," Matt explained humbly.
"You're being far too modest!" Molly assured him, "Chasing a death eater and only in training! They must really think highly of you at the Ministry!"
"I didn't even know that we had received that intelligence," Harry added.
"It was kept confidential – on a need to know basis," Matt explained. Hermione practiced beamed with pride at Matt's courage and prominence at the Ministry.
Draco ate a piece of sausage, hoping that the sound of chewing would drown out Matt's boring story. So what if he had tracked a known dangerous Death Eater throughout the African continent? So what if he had courageously volunteered for a potentially life-threatening mission? So what if he had apparated to another continent – here Draco froze. Apparating over long distances was extremely difficult and apparating to another continent was almost unheard of.
He waited for a pause in the conversation and then casually asked "How did you get there?"
Matt looked surprised that Draco had joined in the discussion, but recovered quickly. "Took a portkey," he explained.
Everyone at the table nodded, but Draco persisted.
"I thought the Ministry didn't authorize inter-continental portkeys on weekends?" He had often listened to his parents complain about this particular restriction. It had put a damper on spontaneous shopping trips and vacations. Pureblood problems.
"They made a special case for us. I mean, did you listen to what I was saying? We were tracking a known Death Eater." Draco noticed that Matt got more defensive here, almost hostile. Within a moment however, his perfect smile was back in place and the conversation moved forward.
As the others continued the conversation, Matt leaned over to Draco and whispered so only he could hear "You'd know all about the dangers of Death Eaters, wouldn't you?"
Draco stared straight ahead, pretending he hadn't heard him. Before this, he had always disliked Matt because he was overly cheerful, annoying, and dating Herm- well mainly the first two. Let's stick with those two, he thought. But now, he was becoming deeply suspicious of the man seated to his left.
He observed Matt the rest of the afternoon, but nothing out of the ordinary occurred. They played Quidditch, during which Matt was a perfect gentleman (and a great Chaser, as he had learned weeks ago). No one else seemed the least bit concerned. Even Ginny, who had started to dislike Matt after she noticed Draco's jealousy, was laughing and joking with him as the two tossed the Quaffle back and forth. Harry and Ron invited him to their next poker night (Draco inwardly groaned) and Molly was thoroughly enamored with him.
Draco was still suspicious, but wasn't sure how to tell Hermione – or if he should even tell her. He continued to debate his options as they left the Burrow later that afternoon. As he watched Matt kiss her goodbye, however, he made up his mind. He had to get rid of this guy.
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When they got back to Hermione's flat, Draco decided to employ all of his Slytherin cunning. He left the tv off while she read (although it KILLED him to miss Jeopardy) and even brought her a cup of tea.
But he kicked it into high gear at dinner – he cooked her favorite meal and served it at the table because he knew how much she liked eating there and how rarely they did. He was dying to broach the subject, but waited throughout dinner. He knew his patience would pay off. They moved into the kitchen after dinner and Hermione leaned against the counter with a glass of wine as Draco washed the dishes. With his back to her, he decided to casually bring up the subject and gauge her reaction.
"So Matt must be pretty high up in the auror program for them to authorize an inter-continental portkey on a Sunday like that."
"Yes, I suppose so." Hermione paused, wistfully. "He's so brave!" She sighed audibly and Draco rolled his eyes.
This was not going the way he had hoped.
"But it's a little odd, isn't it, the way he couldn't remember the country he was going to?" He knew he was taking a risk here and when he heard Hermione begin to respond, he knew she was onto him.
"Are you suspicious of something Draco? I heard how you questioned him at the Burrow." Her tone was accusatory and he dreaded turning around to face her. He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.
"Out with it! I know you've had a problem with him for a long time and it's just getting ridiculous. You're acting like a child!"
Draco spun around.
"I'm acting like a child? Open your eyes, Granger! His story today made no sense!"
Hermione rolled her eyes, but Draco pushed on.
"First he can't even remember what country he visited – can't even remember which portion of the continent he was on! And then he has that story about the portkey? There's no WAY they would authorize that. Intercontinental portkeys were banned on weekends after Ministry higher-ups kept using them for personal vacations – don't you remember reading about it in the Prophet a few years back?"
"Well this was for a mission, Draco-"
He pressed on, interrupting her. "And even if he managed to secure an international portkey on a weekend, that was a pretty quick trip to Africa and back, don't you think? They wouldn't have been able to connect directly to their destination and would have had to travel there-"
Now Hermione cut him off.
"Enough with the conspiracy theories, Draco! This is ridiculous! Why would Matt lie about where he was this morning? And if he really wanted to do something secret or dastardly, why would he come straight to brunch afterward? I don't have to listen to this."
Hermione slammed down her glass and marched to her room. Draco hung his head. Maybe hanging out with so many Gryffindors was having an effect on him – he was really losing his Slytherin touch.
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Draco had expected their spat to blow over by the next day – he had done far worse in the last few months and Hermione had never stayed angry for long. He was shocked, then, to find Hermione ignoring him for the rest of the week. Each morning she escorted him to work without a word. The journey home was equally silent. She spent most of each evening in her room. Draco cooked dinner each night, but every time she ignored him and just grabbed something from the refrigerator.
Twice she went out with Matt. She didn't tell Draco where she was going or when she would be back, but he saw her meet him on the front steps from his window. On the second occasion, Matt looked up and made eye contact with Draco before placing his hand on Hermione's back and, with a smirk, walking away with her. Draco was seething.
The week was a horrible one for Draco. Hermione had been his only constant contact and with her silence, he felt himself going insane. The feelings of missing his family and friends that his trip to Diagon Alley had aroused only grew with the more time he spent alone. His only solace was knowing that he would be joining the boys for another outing on Saturday and that Matt wouldn't be there. He had another "mission" this weekend. Draco rolled his eyes at that thought.
It had been a tough week for Hermione too. She was so mad at Draco and so frustrated with him. She was also under higher pressure than ever at work. The prisoners who were still in limbo – not yet in Azkaban, but not yet free – were starting to lose their patience and were calling for trials or some form of representation. Hermione had submitted report after report about the functions of her experiment and her results so far – results she had to phrase so positively while still so angry at that stupid git.
Worst of all, Rita Skeeter's reports were becoming more frequent, more nasty, and, perhaps most alarmingly, more accurate. She somehow had obtained access to numerous details and Hermione wasn't sure how – she was becoming paranoid of every flying insect around her. She had even asked the Weasleys to set up specific wards to prevent animagi from visiting the Burrow after a conversation she had at Sunday Brunch ended up in the Prophet the next day. The next time she caught that stupid beetle, she was going to put her in a jar and give her to some kindergarten class.
At least things were going well with Matt. She hadn't told him about Draco's suspicions – she didn't want to alarm him or scare him away. They had gone to a vineyard on their last date and tried different varieties of wine – how romantic! At the memories of that evening, her sour mood had faded a bit.
Now it was Friday and her positive mood increased with the realization that Draco would be out of the house all day tomorrow. She thought about inviting Matt over for the day, but remembered that he would be gone on a mission the entire weekend. She leaned back in her office chair and thought about how lucky she had been to find him. He was charming, handsome, brave – was there anything wrong with him? She couldn't think of anything.
She looked up at the clock and realized it was ten minutes to five. She finished up the case file she was working on and headed down to pick up Draco. On the way to the Potions Department, she ran into Neville Longbottom, who was headed down there for some veritaserum.
They exchanged pleasantries and made small talk, but Hermione decided to take this chance to ask a question that had been niggling at her brain.
"Hey Neville, I know this sounds sort of random, but do you know if I could secure an intercontinental portkey for tomorrow? I have some work to do in Australia-"
Neville cut her off before she could finish her lame excuse.
"No, definitely not. I've been trying to get one for a month to go after a few of Karkaroff's buddies who are hiding in South America – to no avail. The Ministry says to just go on a weekday, but they don't get it. I've been observing their schedules and I have spies on the ground – the only time they leave their heavily secured compound is on Saturday afternoons to travel to another secure location for some sort of meeting. Our only chance to apprehend them is during their travel time. I finally got permission to take one next Friday and stay there for the weekend." Neville suddenly looked sheepish. "You see, I sort of forgot that I could go earlier and still be there on Saturday. Luna pointed that out. She's a smart one, that Luna."
Neville kept talking about their friend, but Hermione had stopped paying attention. Surely if the mission was urgent enough they could secure the portkey? That's what Matt had said and she had to believe him. Still… No. She wouldn't let Draco into her head. Matt was perfect and wonderful and she should trust him – he had never given her any reason not to.
She met Draco and, as she had all week, she escorted him home in silence. It was getting harder to stay angry with him, but she felt like if she forgave him, she was somehow turning her back on Matt. She knew she was sort of sabotaging her experiment by being so mean to him, but he had started it. That's what she told herself anyway.
When they got home, she headed to her room to change. She was meeting Ginny for drinks and didn't want to be late. She quickly ditched her work clothes for jeans and a fun top. She considered heels, but quickly nixed that idea and went for flipflops. She threw her hair up in a ponytail and checked the clock. She was supposed to meet Ginny in ten minutes, but fortunately the bar they were going to was just a few blocks from her flat.
She grabbed her bag and ran to the door. She paused after opening it, however, and turned back to face Draco on the couch. He was looking at the tv, ignoring her.
"I'm going out with Ginny for drinks." She paused when he didn't respond. "Do you need anything while I'm out?"
Draco looked at her, and they made eye contact for the first time that week. "How about my wand back and access to my bank account?" He asked sarcastically.
She gave him a small smile before heading out. When he smiled back, she knew they were working their way back toward peace.
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At the bar, she explained all of the recent events to Ginny. She had expected Ginny to gawk at Draco's accusations and to get just as angry as she was, but Ginny surprised her by seriously considering the situation, quietly sipping her drink.
"And you said you asked Neville about the weekend portkeys?"
"Yes, but I mean that's Neville. I wouldn't trust him with my car keys, let alone an intercontinental portkey."
"Still, it is a little odd. And Draco has a point with how quickly he returned."
"But why would he still have come to brunch?"
"I think you have a point there," Ginny acknowledged.
Hermione was silent for a moment.
"What do you think?" she asked Ginny honestly. "Do you like Matt? Are you suspicious at all?"
Ginny thought about the matter carefully.
"I do like Matt. I think he's kind and charming and very good looking." Ginny and Hermione shared a smile, but then Ginny continued. "But, if I'm being honest, I trust Draco more than I like Matt."
Hermione took a sip of her drink. She had a lot to think about.
When she got home that night, Draco was already in his room. She headed straight to bed too – it had been a long week and she had a lot on her mind.
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Draco woke up very excited for his day with the guys on Saturday. During their last trip to Diagon Alley, the manager of Quality Quidditch Supplies had told them that a new broom was coming in that day from the makers of the Firebolt – the "Thunderclap." The manager had promised them a private flying session with it – Draco had to acknowledge there were a few perks of being friends with the "Chosen One."
The boys were practically giddy as they hurried down the street.
"I hear that the twigs come from a tree in South America that was only recently discovered!" Ron gushed.
"And it has the fastest turning speed of any broom ever created," Harry added.
"And with the pear wood broomstick, you only need to wax it half as often," Draco announced.
If possible, their excitement increased.
They were not disappointed either. They each got to try out the new broomstick in a private riding field behind the shop – even Draco, because wards were set up to keep him from leaving. They couldn't believe how fast it was and how smoothly it handled.
After their rides, Harry and Ron began to fill out order forms to buy their own. Suddenly, Harry looked back at Draco and asked for another form. Draco started to protest, but Harry quickly countered.
"You can pay me back once you have access to your Malfoy millions again," he said with a smirk.
Draco smiled, partially at the prospect of his new broom and partially at Harry's confidence in his case.
He was having trouble remembering a better weekend. After the Quidditch shop, they stopped at Weasley Wizard Wheezes to check out the newest projects and then hit up Fortescue's for ice cream. Without Hermione or Ginny there to judge them, they all ordered three scoops each and enjoyed every bite of them.
They were walking back to the Leaky Cauldron, still talking about the Thunderclap, when Draco stopped suddenly. Harry and Ron kept walking for a moment, but, realizing they had lost their third companion (and the one they were legally responsible for), they quickly turned back.
Draco was staring at a small café next to Madam Malkin's Robe Shop. Harry and Ron searched for what he was looking at and quickly found it. At a small table in a corner of the café's patio sat three men: Gideon Lockhart, Michael Corner, and Matt.
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Another A/N: DUN DUN DUN! Cliffhanger! Also, let me just say here that I know the "no intercontinental portkeys on a weekend" thing is a little lame, but I needed a plot device. It works well and I'm just going with it. Until next time!