'So any more ideas about how to get into Gringotts?' Ron asked, for what must have been the thousandth time.'
'Not yet, but I'm sure we'll come up with something.'
'Yeah, right.'
'What do you mean by that?'
'Well, you're never going to do it, are you. We're here, risking life and limb trying to work out how to rob Gringotts. Don't you get it? It's impossible. Dumbledore's left you an impossible task top do. He hasn't even given you any special information What's the point?'
'If you'd quit moaning and start thinking it might go a bit faster.'
'Yeah, right. Thicky Ron Weasley, he never thinks does he? All he is is a waste of space. That's what you think. I don't even know why I'm wasting my time with you.'
'Then don't.' Harry spat. Ron reached for his wand and Harry went for his.
With one wave of his own wand, Draco disarmed the pair of them.
'Take your wands and get out. Don't come back in until you're prepared to be civil.' Draco ordered.
'No need to go anywhere Harry. I'm leaving. I've had it up to here with you lot. Frankly, Harry, you're clueless, Draco, you're a bastard and Hermione, as for you, I've had it up to here with you trying to be my mother. I'm off.'
'Ron. Come back, Ron.' Hermione yelled. The only reply she ever got was the stomp of angry footsteps and the swish of the tent door as it closed behind him. With one great, terrible crack, Ron apparated out of their lives. The four were reduced to a three.
'How could he do that?' Hermione asked herself, on the verge of tears. She sat down heavily on a chair, curled up in a ball and started to cry. Harry looked at Draco, not knowing what to do. Draco returned the look, giving Harry the stare which meant leave this to me. Nodding twice, Harry got up and quietly left. That left Draco there, needing to comfort a crying Hermione. Looking around, he wondered what to do. Well, a cup of tea would be a good place to start, something he could do whilst letting Hermione get some tears out of her system.
Great idea, but how to do it? With a flick of his wand, Draco lit the stove under the kettle. Well, that was the water done, now for the tea. That might prove a little more problematical. They'd been out of tea for days now which had run out at the same time as the rest of the food. Now, where could he get the tea from? Hang on, hadn't he stuffed some teabags in the bottom of his rucksack when he'd packed. Maybe. It was worth a look.
'Accio teabag.' No luck, hang on, no. There it was, the teabag came flying round the corner and landed in Draco's hand. It was a limp thing, and lifeless, ordinarily he'd have thrown it away, but now, now it was needed. Draco dropped it in a chipped mug and waited for the kettle to boil. As soon as the shrill whistle began, Draco lifted the kettle off the heat and the noise died away instantly. He poured the water, extinguished the flames and fetched a teaspoon. There, he'd achieved the impossible for Hermione now – he'd made a cup of tea when there was no tea. Well, almost. Admittedly, the whole idea was somewhat less impressive than Draco had thought, but never mind. That was brewed enough. Ah. No milk. Never mind, not the most important bit of the cuppa ,w as it? No. Draco fished out the teabag and walked steadily over to Hermione, she was still crying, curled up in a ball and oblivious to him.
He tapped her on the shoulder.
'Hermione, would you like some tea?' Hermione uncurled from her ball, tears still running down her cheek, rushing to join the tears that had preceded it.
'What's that?' Draco noticed that her eyes were red.
'I just wondered if you fancied a cup of tea?'
'I didn't know we had any left.'
'We didn't have much left but. Here you go.'
'Thanks.' Hermione accepted the tea cautiously and began to take sips as he sat on the chair, curled up into a ball. Silence enveloped the room. At long last she spoke.
'Thanks Draco. Would you mind if I had some time to myself?'
'You sure?'
'Yes.'
'Alright then. Just call if you need anything. I mean anything.' Draco left Hermione in the kitchen and padded back to his room, where Harry was waiting.
'What do you think brought that on?'
'Ron, of course.' Draco said.
'What should we do? Get him back?'
'No, I'm not sure that would help. What we really need is something to take Hermione's mind off of it.'
'Any ideas?'
'Well, the Gringott's break-in n would be perfect. Pity Ron was right.'
'What about?'
'It's impossible to break into Gringotts. No one's ever done it before.'
'Right. No. Not right.'
'What do you mean?'
'You remember the philosopher's stone, right?'
'Of course I do, you know how much faff and bother we went through about that thing. Bit of a long time ago though, isn't it? And at any rate, what's that got to do with Gringotts?'
'Well, do you know how the stone got to Hogwarts?'
'No, do you?' Harry nodded.
'You remember the day we first met?'
'In Madame Malkin's. Yeah, I remember. I was a total arse.'
'Yeah. You improve on acquaintance though.'
'Thanks.'
'Well, before then I'd gone to Gringotts with Hagrid to get my money and, well, we visited another vault before we came back up to do the shopping.'
'You did?'
'Yeah. Hagrid took out a little package, That package was the philosopher's stone.'
'I see.' Said Draco, not really sure that he did.
'Well, later that day Quirell tried to steal it. He managed to break in It was all over the papers, wasn't it?'
'What, so you want us to break in to Gringotts using dark magic?'
'Yeah, I've had this plan sort of brewing for days, but I'd rather we had a different one.'
'So would I, but I don't think that we're going to find one. But do you think we can do it?'
'Don't be silly- you and Hermione are loads better at magic than bloody Quirell, it'll be a doddle.'
'But wasn't he using the dark arts?'
'Yeah, but at a guess, you will be too. After all, isn't that why you've been reading Dumbledore's book night after night? To try and learn something useful.'
'How do you know about that?'
'The wand light shines through the wall- it's only canvas you know, and you mutter to yourself when you read,'
'Sorry, why didn't you tell me I was keeping you up, I would've stopped.'
'I know, but it wasn't that bad. It's just, I've not been sleeping well of late.'
'The dreams?'
'The dreams. You-know-who is still after Gregorovitch. I can't help but dread what will happen if he finds him.'
'Not much I dare say. Not to you, anyway.'
'Here's hoping. How's Hermione?'
'She wanted to be left alone for a bit. I gave her a cup of tea, but I think we're going to have to be extra nice in the next couple of days. After all, think how you'd feel if that was Ginny rather than Ron who'd just run off. How would you feel?'
'Point taken. We should definitely have a look at the plan for Gringotts tomorrow then.'
'Yes. Who knows, it might even take our minds off the food situation for a while.'
'Unlikely.'
'Well, you never know. Perhaps we can try a bit more fishing, you never know, we might catch something tomorrow.'
'You don't blame me, do you?'
'What on earth for?'
'Ron running off. I know you were all very disappointed that I didn't manage to catch anything. I just thought that, maybe, if I'd caught something and we'd had a proper dinner he might not have run off like that.'
'Don't blame yourself Harry, this has been brewing ever since we ran out of food, it's nothing to do with you.'
'But if I had...'
'You can if and but your way to anything, Harry. Anyway, it's not your fault, it's his. You don't see me running off, do you?'
'I suppose not.'
'And do I like eating any less than Ron does?'
'Erm. No, I suppose not.'
'So, is the lack of food the main cause for him running away?'
'I don't know.'
'The answer's no, Harry. It's not your fault, it's not even his, he's just not thinking straight.'
Draco fell asleep that night trying to persuade himself that Ron wouldn't have run away if he hadn't told him to go. It wasn't Harry's fault was it? No, Draco felt that the blame was firmly his own.
The next morning Draco woke up early. Yawning, he walked through to the kitchen, where a sleeping Hermione was curled up in the same seat he had left her in last night. Well, at least she'd got some, that would help. Certainly, he'd always felt more able to ignore things after a good night's sleep. A new morning always brought a fresh start, although, thought Draco, if that's smell's me, then perhaps I need a bath. Oh sweet mother of Merlin it was. When did I get this bad? Perhaps magical cleaning isn't all it's cracked up to be, Draco thought as he plodded off to the bathroom which was up a small flight of steps at the back of the tent. Sliding the bolt across the one solid door in the place, Draco stripped off and began to run the bath, first the hot water, lots of that to help heat up the vast cast iron bath tub. Draco set everything up where he'd be able to reach it, his wand near him, his clothes safe from any potential splash and the soap by the side of the bath. Hmm, that was enough hot, time to add some cold. Not too much though. Well, it looked like it was going to be a nice day, if the glow of the dawn through the walls of the tent was anything to go by. There we go, enough water, time to turn the taps off. Draco carefully dipped one foot in the water and then immediately pulled it out again. Bloody hell that was hot. Never mind, it would soon cool down, it was just a case of mind over matter. Draco put the foot back in. Much better. Still hot, but this time only slightly unbearable. Lifting one foot off the bathmat Draco let the other foot join its counterpart. Hmm, that was funny, they felt like they were at different temperatures, the first foot feeling comfortable, the second as if it had just entered the fiery blast of a furnace. Well, that was soon going. Draco sat down gently in the bath. Apparently it was only his feet that felt the blast of the heat. Slowly he lowered himself ever more into the bath until first his thighs touched the water, and then he was sitting, hunched up, on the bottom of the bath. Draco stretched out, sending each leg forward in an independent exploratory effort to the hot deeps beyond. That was better. Draco could just feel the heat raging through his body, gently loosening every stiff joint and knotted muscle. Now, where was that damned brush? Ah, there. Draco lathered it up and started to scrub, first his legs, then his arms and chest. Then there was a noise outside.
'Alohomora.' Hermione's voice sounded. The bolt slid across and the door began to swing open. Draco reached for his wand and pointed it at the bath water.
'Delitesco.' The water darkened to give Draco an opaque cover as Hermione waltzed in.
'Locking a door is just throwing down a gauntlet to you, isn't it?'
'Oh, what? Sorry Draco, just wanted to get my hairbrush. Enjoying your bath?'
'Very nice.' Draco carried on scrubbing his chest, the top half of which was sticking out above the all-concealing water.
'Is there any way I can make up barging in to you?'
'No, don't worry about it. No. Hang on, there is something you can do for me.'
'Anything. Just name it.'
'You couldn't give my back a bit of a scrub, could you? It's just I can't reach most of it for obvious reasons.'
'Sure. Hand the brush over then.' Hermione said, walking over to the bath. 'Oh, you really are a gentleman, aren't you, Draco?'
'I do try to be. Have you seen Harry yet?'
'Today?'
'Yes. Would you mind going a bit lower?' Draco asked, bending forwards.
'Sure. He said that you two had come up with a plan for Gringotts. Care to share?'
'Certainly. Ooh, that's good. Well, he said something about Quirell using the dark arts to break in. Harry reckons we should do the same.'
'Really? Do you think you're up to that?'
'I don't know. I think we should try sneaking in as far as possible, but there's no telling what's really going to happen. I think the general consensus was that we should all go in, after all, we might need some help from you when it comes to breaking through the defences of Gringotts.'
'Which are?'
'Haven't you ever been down to the vaults before?'
'No, I haven't as a matter of fact.'
'A pity you'll be visiting for the first time in such circumstances. It really is a rite of passage going to a Gringotts' vault for the first time, even if it isn't your own. Anyway, there's a sort of cart thing which can only be driven by a Gringotts' goblin, then you've got to find the right vault- that's easier than it sounds, they're all in numerical order, vault one down the bottom, vault something-or-other up the top, then you've got to get past the security measures. The lower security ones just need a key, the higher ones need an employee of the bank to open it and a key. Then lower down you get to all sorts of things. My father took me to his vault once, that's pretty low down, and that had a dragon guarding it.'
'A dragon. You think there's going to be a dragon.' Hermione said, despairingly. She had stopped scrubbing.
'Hopefully it'll be a dragon. I've heard rumours of what protects the lower vaults. All sorts of rumours. Manticores, Basilisks. An army of the living dead. I'm fairly sure they're nonsense, but there are definitely dragons, not to mention we're going a lot deeper the family vault. Much deeper.'
'Great. Any ideas how we're going to get past the dragon?'
'Without a Gringott's goblin on our side, no idea. Perhaps the imperius curse might help, but personally, I reckon that a somewhat more vicious back-up plan would be useful.'
'That's a bit unnecessary, isn't it? Couldn't we just, I don't know, send it to sleep or something?'
'Well, I'd rather be safe than sorry. This is war Hermione, a war for the fate of the wizarding world, and if a whole raft of dragons stood in our way, I wouldn't hesitate to destroy them all.'
'But surely...'
'No. The essence of war is violence, Hermione, moderation in war isn't kindness, it's just stupidity. I know you mean well, but we've got to be prepared.'
'Of course.' Hermione said, slightly upset by Draco's harsh reply. She turned her back on him to leave
'Hermione.'
'Yes?'
'Thanks for doing my back.'
'Not a problem. See you downstairs in a moment. We'll have to really get working if we're going to have to get past dragons.'
