CHAPTER 25
September 30th 2001
Hermione Granger clutched the steering wheel of the car that she had just stolen with all her might. Despite her cool collection, she was most definitely freaking out more than she let off. Stealing vehicles and driving at high speeds across London was not her typical taste in adventure, therefore she put it down to Malfoy's presence influencing her to do bad things. Sure, that was it… Malfoy's fault.
Hermione was quite impressed with herself for being able to remember how to drive a car. She did rev it a little too hard and bunny hop every now and then, but Malfoy could not tell the difference. As long as they passed the city and made way for the countryside, they would be okay for the night.
She looked over to Malfoy in the passenger seat. His conventional white face was even paler than usual as he gripped the seatbelt for dear life. The man flew brooms in the open air, for Merlin's sake. He should not be so dramatic.
Hermione giggled at his frightened expression, returning her gaze to the busy road ahead. She could see in the corner of her eye that Malfoy whipped his head in her direction. He was not as amused by the whole situation.
"What's so funny, Granger?" He hissed.
"Nothing." She tried to hold back an inappropriate laugh, keeping her hands at ten and two on the wheel.
"This is not a time to be laughing. Our lives are at stake, and I certainly do not wish to meet the hand of Merlin, thanks to your inexperienced driving abilities."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh harder.
"It is clear that this is the first time you've been on the run from men trying to kill you." She spoke through laughs. "You should try it more often, it is quite humbling."
"Fuck off." He spat, but Hermione knew he did not mean any harm by it.
The rain had started to calm after the first ten minutes of travelling, and there was no sign that anyone was following them. Hermione flicked off the windshield wipers and slowed her unnecessary speed down. She was grateful that there were no policemen on duty, only to make matters worse.
Relaxing her shoulders, Hermione figured that perhaps a little music would ease Malfoy's stern glare overlooking the London buildings passing them by. She clicked a power button on the dash and the radio instantly lit up a dim green. The time was 06:45pm, giving them about an hour before they were to arrive at their location.
Hermione twisted the volume dial until the gentle hum of a newscaster was heard.
"What is that?" Malfoy emphasised the last word, confused by the muggle device.
"A radio. It is built into the car." Hermione replied, scanning different radio station options until it landed on something they could both enjoy. Luckily this car was similar to her parents and it was not hard to operate.
She stopped searching when the static faded into the twang of an electric guitar. Feeling familiar with the melody, Hermione turned the volume up and watched as Malfoy's scrunched face loosened.
"Billy Joel." He spoke softly.
"I'm sorry?"
"Billy Joel. The Stranger album, Track 5, titled Vienna."
Hermione frowned but kept her focus on the road ahead. The London traffic did not seem to want to cease despite their desperate need of a getaway.
She found it very interesting how much Malfoy retained information. He could easily pinpoint what song was on the radio within seconds, and to which album it came from. It was very similar to her in that character trait, a bookworm who absorbed facts and knowledge. He probably did not get as teased for it as she did growing up in the Slytherin common room.
To Hermione, it was rather comforting knowing someone was similar to her.
The piano played on as they drove through the city. A more calming sounding soundtrack for their rushed escape. Hermione just hoped that her memory skills were as accurate for where she planned on taking them.
"I take it you would not have gotten us in this vehicle without having an end goal in mind." Malfoy seated from his passenger seat, still holding onto the safety belt with both hands.
"I did."
"Do you care to share or will I sit in anticipation for the next few hours?" He was starting to get snarky now. Slytherins were not very brave when it came to being impulsive.
"A cottage in the country, just outside of Oxford." She revealed with tight lips.
"And you know the owners of the cottage?"
"Something like that."
Hermione enjoyed being in charge. She relished being the mysterious one of the pair more so. It was very rare for her to have the upper hand against Malfoy. They may need to work on their communication skills in order to succeed in this mission, but that could wait until tomorrow.
It was not long before the witch and wizard were driving along pitch black country roads, the headlights of the car being their only guide. From the front window there was a clear view of the starry night, bright lights in heaven's black for as long as the eye could see. Evenings like this were the perfect example of how Hermione would try to describe magic to her parents.
Heart-stoppingly wonderful.
Over an hour had passed of the radio numbing their irrationally anxious minds. Great musicians alike distract them from the tussles that were to come. Thankfully, the journey to Oxford was not a difficult one for Hermione to remember. It was times like this that she was grateful for her natural intelligence that graced the many life threatening quests she had endeavoured upon.
Malfoy had remained quiet ever since they left London. Hermione could practically hear the gears turning in his brain, grinding to find a clue they could work on.
On the left side of the road, a common oak tree with a tyre swing dangling from its branch, indicated that they had been on the right track and had arrived at their secure location. Flicking the indicator, for the aid of no cars behind them, she slowed down and turned the wheel at an openly gated country house.
The car tires rolled onto a gravel driveway, brakes squeaking as they came to a halt. Hermione's mind flooded with memories of her childhood as she looked out the window to the cottage on her right. It's triangular roof was still as pointy as the white picket fence surrounding the house. Through the dark she could see that overtime thick green vines had spread over the brown brick foundation.
"Precious." Malfoy noted sarcastically from her side.
"It is." Hermione whispered, her voice fogging up the crisp glass in front of her face.
"Granger… Get this fucking belt off me."
Hermione scoffed at his impatience, although she could not blame him for lacking the sentimentality she had. Pressing her finger on the release button, Hermione then leant over Malfoy's waist to pull the door open for him. Pureblood probably had no clue how to exit a car.
"Thank you." He swallowed as she rose back up.
Hermione did not take the time to wallow in his scent any longer than she had to and scurried out of the vehicle. The next few days were going to test her, and she prayed her loyalty to Ron would not waver from it.
Stepping out to the night, Hermione breathed in the clean country air, slamming her door shut behind. The number 4 was still crooked on the front door from when her father closed it too harshly. She could hear the crunch of Malfoy joining her view of the old home. His hair was so extravagantly silver in the moon's lighting. It matched the piercing colour of his eyes.
"Does not look like someone has been home in a long time." He mumbled, leaning against the boot with his hands in his pockets.
"Not since I was 10."
Malfoy turned his head, waiting for her to explain the character in which this cottage was portrayed.
"It was my Grandmother's." Hermione explained. "She passed away the summer before I came to Hogwarts. My mother and father never did have the heart to sell it, despite still paying the bills. I guess they just wanted to keep what they could while they could."
A soft wind caused the fallen leaves on the gravel to dance around in circles, swirling at their feet. Malfoy remained silent and let the wind fill the void between them. Hermione did not expect him to be sympathetic, he never really showed any other emotion that was not anger.
Pushing his body off the car, Malfoy turned to face the road in front. He lifted his wand out of his pocket, and began to walk in wide strides murmuring incantations as he went. Hermione saw heat hazes appearing with every step he took, recognising that he was casting protection spells over the cottage.
She took it upon herself to join, whispering a 'Cave Inimicum' charm to produce a boundary that kept them from public view.
By the time that they returned to the front after covering the whole perimeter, the soft wind had become icy, provoking Hermione's teeth to chatter. She rubbed her own arms up and down as she met Malfoy by the red car once more.
"I think we will be okay for the night." He spoke confidently while scanning her up and down. "We should get you inside. That cardigan is not doing you any favours."
She nodded, taking the lead in moving them to the front door. Approaching the withered cream door, a part of Hermione still wished that her grandmother was waiting inside with a blueberry pie made especially for her. But the decade she had spent mourning the sweet lady, soon crept up to her.
Hermione did not feel the need to use her wand to let them in, instead opting to reach above the frame and find the decayed key that was hidden from passers by. Rust smothered itself all over her fingers the moment the two connected. She unlocked the latch with ease, but the door appeared to be jammed, no matter how hard she nudged it.
Malfoy kept his mouth shut from sarcastic comments and surprisingly offered to help. Hetook over by throwing his shoulder into the wood, opening the door with ease. Hermione's cheeks flushed with heat at the effortlessness he possessed.
Shetook a step onto creaky floor boards, twirling her wand to bring the house lights back to life. A soft orange filter glowed amongst the cottage's untouched interior. Picture frames sat unseen for over a decade along the walls, vases unfilled on top of cabinets, fireplaces unlit beneath the chimney. Hermione soaked in the lavender scent that still lingered amongst the room, an aroma of a simple life.
She sauntered over to the living room, brimful with oversized velvet floral couches. The yellow walls matched the shaggy rug that sat under her feet. Time may have passed, but her grandmother's spirit never left this place.
Malfoy followed her all the way through, wandering off to the fireplace to pick up a picture from on top of the fireplace. He blew a soft breath to cast away the dust that had gathered. From where she stood, Hermione could tell it was a photo of the young girl and her parents, taken in the garden the summer before her grandmother died. She had almost forgotten about it.
"I think you looked much better with buck teeth." Malfoy grinned, reminiscing on how she used to look before he had hit her with a Densaugeo spell in school.
"You did not." She put emphasis on the final word. "You worked tirelessly to ensure I knew how much you disliked them. My teeth and my hair."
"I do not dislike your hair." He said coolly, placing the picture back to the mantle.
Hermione scowled, unsure if he was lying or not.
"Shut up." Was the only defence mechanism she could come up with.
He smirked at her awkwardness, "Did you come here when Voldemort was after Potter?"
"No. I guess, in the heat of the entire wizarding world chasing after us, I did not want to risk them tainting my grandmother's house."
"You don't think my father could do exactly that?"
"Quite the difference between your father and Voldemort. Plus, I am sure this will be over within the week, if we planwell enough."
Malfoy came to stand by the sofas with her. He looked rather tanned with the yellow lighting. It made him less intimidating than he usually would. He picked up a hardback book that sat on the dark wood coffee table, flipping it over to look at the gold title on the spine. There was now a rectangular dust patch missing on the tabletop.
"It appears your grandmother was also a fan of that Oz Wizard. You share similar tastes." He gave a low chuckle before putting it down where he found it, the patch being filled back up.
"She taught me how to read." Hermione murmured, getting lost in the cinema of her first few memories with the eldery lady.
"Do you mind?" Malfoy took out his wand from his pocket and lifted it to the roof, asking if he had permission to tidy the abandoned house. Hermione gave a simple nod of approval.
He cast a silent charm that elevated all the dirt particles and swirled them into a small collective twisting tornado. Dirt was flying from every corner of the house, including down the passage where the bedrooms hid. Hermione ran and heaved at the back door, opening it just in time for the dust storm to soar out into the night sky.
"Thank you." She gave a small smile as he took in her gratitude.
A soft breeze drifted through the door, carrying the scent of a home cooked meal from down the road. The smell caused Hermione's stomach to ache. Neither had eaten since their impromptu baking session, and the consequences were making themselves present.
"We should eat." She closed the back door and unhooked her satchel from over her shoulders.
"I did not bring any food." He said sheepishly, walking over to the fireplace and lighting it with the end of his wand. Warm yellow flames crackled against the aged logs.
Hermione pulled out a canteen from her bag and placed it on top of the coffee table in front of the furnace. Luckily for her, she had made a batch of soup earlier that was ready to go. It was originally intended for Ron as a truce for a fight they had during the week, but that matter was well out the window.
Hermione poured a bowl for each of them as Malfoy watched from his seated position on the couch. She quickly heated the liquid with her wand and handed him his portion before taking a seat herself.
Taking a sip from her spoon, Hermione was relieved that the soup tasted relatively edible. It was not Hogwarts' feast worthy, but it was enough to keep them warm. Malfoy seemed to agree with his lack of backhanded compliments.
"We should come up with a plan." She stated, firm in her confidence that they would be able to defeat Lucius sooner than later.
"What do you suggest we do?" His level of sarcasm was sickening.
"Do not play dumb with me, Malfoy. I know you were thinking of a strategy on the ride over. Anything that I say will be contradicted in a matter of seconds." Hermione took another sip of her soup.
"I might have an idea of where we could start, but do not play me as the asshole, Granger."
"I am not playing you as the asshole." The curse felt strange coming off her tongue. "I have enough practical experience in working alongside men, to know that they are far easier to deal with when their pride is unharmed. You have a proposition, now spit it out."
"Potter and Weasley are an arrogant pair, I take it?" He lowered his head to bring his spoon to his mouth.
"Mmmmm." She kept her own mouth shut.
Hermione dove into her bag once more and pulled a container of cupcakes they had made before, sliding one across the table to him. Malfoy pursed his lips as if he was analyzing all of the dead ends and traps that would debunk his motion. Anyone would have thought he had meticulously planned to kill a wizard of power before.
"Potter and I discovered something at Malfoy Manor yesterday." He began his offering, picking the sweet up off the table. "There was a map in my father's office that revealed a plethora of tunnels hidden within the estate. We have reason to believe that he used the one in the west wing to escape the night he supposedly died. I do not know what lies at the end of the other passages, but it could be a starting point."
"Are you suggesting we go to Malfoy Manor?" Hermione gave a puzzled look.
"Do you have any better ideas?" Malfoy sneered in return.
"If you had given me a second," She spoke through gritted teeth, "I would have informed you that the Manor is only a few miles down the road. We could apparate or drive, whatever you believe would be more discreet."
Malfoy used the tip of his finger to swirl the icing on top of the cupcake as he looked Hermione dead in the eye. It was very hard for her to ignore the tension he had unknowingly created, but she did not yield her focus.
"We will apparate." He replied bluntly. "It would be less of a risk if we need a getaway."
"Very well."
After a few minutes of silence, the right side of Hermione's face was starting to burn from the heat of the fireplace. She pressed her palm to her cheek to try and cool it down, but failed.
"Thank you for dinner." Malfoy broke the stillness, staring up at her from his leant position of forearms on thighs. The shadows of the flames danced against his skin. "And dessert."
"That is quite alright." Hermione spoke faintly. "We will need to stock up on food tomorrow. The cupcakes will only last us so far."
"Okay."
Malfoy abruptly stood from his seat and began walking down the passageway which led to the bedrooms. Hermione dusted her hands of cupcake crumbs and hurriedly followed him. This man never did anything like a normal person would.
He had stopped midway down the hall, waiting for her like he knew she would have traced his steps. Hermione held back on reminiscing over the memories of her father carrying her down this passage after she had fallen asleep on the couch in his lap.
"Where am I allowed to sleep?" Malfoy asked once she caught up to him.
Hermione took lead in opening the first bedroom door for him, which was the master. It had a forest feature wall with a yellow duvet. He cringed at the sight.
The next two rooms were identical in their layout, separated only by decoration colours. One was completely ornamented with purple accessories, including a queen bed, while the other room matched with blue.
"You are welcome to choose from whichever bedroom you would prefer." Hermione offered.
"Do any of them not have floral wallpaper?"
"It is not too late to sleep in the car."
Malfoy squinted his eyes and lifted his chin to look down at her from his nose. Hermione held in the urge to giggle. He may be an egotistical cockroach, but he did make her laugh.
"I will take the blue one." Malfoy finally gave in, brushing past and knocking her shoulder on his way to his new room. Hermione bit her cheek and turned to follow.
On the right of the passage was a cupboard that she remembered to be stocked with spare sheets and towels. She opened it and pulled out a pink crochet blanket, a colour very suited for the Slytherin.
Walking back into the blue room, Malfoy sat on the edge of the mattress, lifting his green sweater off his body. The tug of the jumper accidentally lifted his black undershirt as well, revealing his toned midriff. Hermione darted her eyes around the room to avoid looking until he had pulled it back down again.
"You are surely joking." Malfoy groaned at the sight of the pink blanket in her arms. He folded his sweater into fours before placing it at the foot of his bed.
"It matches your eyes." Hermione grinned, tossing it to him to catch. "Do you need to gather anything from my bag?"
"My toothbrush, if you don't mind."
"Not any pyjamas?" She questioned, digging her arm into the bag to find his toiletries.
"I sleep in my pants." He replied blankly.
Hermione froze, doing her very best not to look him in the eye. Although, it was very hard not to imagine what Malfoy would look like just his underwear in her grandmother's guest bedroom. The thought was going to haunt her tonight, and she knew it.
"Right…" She enunciated the last letter and continued blindly searching through her bag.
With the touch of leather sweeping against her fingers, Hermione quickly pulled the bathroom bag out and handed it to him. He thanked her with a soft whisper.
Before the atmosphere could get any more awkward, Hermione took a swift turn and headed across the hall. Unfortunately, her room was directly across from Malfoy's and gave a great view into everything he was doing. Throwing her satchel onto the mattress, she dug through the enchanted accessory to find her sleepwear and bathroom necessities.
Hermione was blessed with an ensuite and was grateful she did not have to share with Malfoy in the guest bathroom. Taking the opportunity of a moment of privacy, she slipped into the small restroom, brushed her teeth and changed into her blue silk dress pyjamas.
Stepping back into the master bed, her heart was startled at the sight of Malfoy leaning against the entry door frame only in his black silk boxers. The sight of his matching outfit to hers made her stomach swirl in a way she didn't like.
"Nice frock." He grinned with his arms across his pale chest.
"Ron bought it for me." She blurted out in a panic, taking an awkward seat on the mattress.
It was a lie, but Hermione felt it was necessary that she remind herself that she was engaged. Malfoy would never try anything, but who's to say that she wouldn't?
Malfoy looked just as uncomfortable as Hermione felt. This was going to be one hell of a trip for the pair of them.
"We should, uh-" He rubbed the back of his neck. "We should keep the doors open. In case anything happens, I want both of us on alert."
"Okay." She muttered, thanking herself for deciding to wear a bra to bed.
"Okay." He murmured back. "I will lock up and cast some warming charms for overnight. So... Goodnight, Granger."
"Goodnight, Malfoy."
As Malfoy spun to exit, Hermione was blessed with seeing the long scar that ran along his spine once more. She found it truly mesmerising to look at, and thought it was a beautiful representation of how much good was truly in him.
He may see it as a haunted memory, but she saw it as an emblem of restoration.
It was not a long sight to see, as Malfoy was gone from her view in seconds, headed to the guest bathroom down the hall. Hermione slipped under the layered blankets strapped to her mattress, and curled into the fetal position.
She prayed sleep would wash over her soon and dreams of a boxer only Malfoy would stray far. Only, Hermione knew that it was a big stretch.