A/N: Over 1,000 hits in barely 4 days-I'm flattered beyond belief! Thank you so much for all your kind words and views. I've loved chatting with a few of you over PM, too, so please feel free to send me a message! Can't wait to hear what you think of our duo on the run...
Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, dissociation, dried blood
When they popped into existence on the busy London footpath, the two women collapsed on one another. Narcissa was sobbing and both were shaking like a leaf. Passers-by gave them curious, concerned glances and Hermione quickly cast a Notice Me Not Charm and guided them both to a bench beside a building.
Hermione's legs gave out beneath her and she crumpled on the seat, gasping for breath. It felt strange to sit again after spending however many weeks in a barren prison cell. The city lights were more than Hermione's eyes had been exposed to since her capture and the outside air was cool and fresh. The breeze played with her ratty hair and Hermione could only stare around her as Narcissa wept into her shoulder. Absently, Hermione stroked circles on the woman's side to soothe her while she surveyed their surroundings anxiously.
"Draco," Narcissa gasped, choking on her words as the tears flowed.
"He helped us," Hermione said quickly, her dry throat making her voice crack. "He wanted you out of there and he helped us escape."
Narcissa nodded, but did not appear to be calmed. "He will be punished," she told Hermione gravely. "Regardless of whether or not they determine he did not try to stop us, he will be punished for my actions."
"We can't think of that now," Hermione answered, wishing she could alleviate Narcissa's pain but knowing that the witch was correct in her analysis. Draco would suffer on behalf of his mother, and if Voldemort realised that Draco had helped them escape, then it would be doubly worse. "We can't stay here very long. We need to find a place to stay for the night." She pulled back to look Narcissa in the eye and added a bit more gently, "We cannot waste what Draco did for us by getting captured again." It felt odd to be comforting someone about the welfare of Draco Malfoy, considering that everyone else she'd ever interacted with wanted reassurance that Malfoy was suffering. But Hermione genuinely hoped Draco was safe, both for his own sake and that of his mother.
Narcissa nodded. "Yes," she agreed, pushing her tears away from her face. She seemed to notice their surroundings for the first time. "Where have you brought us?"
"Muggle London," Hermione answered as she stood on wobbly legs to pick up a few leaves on the ground. She prepared for a disdainful comment about the location, but none came. Narcissa was silent as she surveyed the street with wide, curious eyes.
Hermione was relieved by her lack of bigotry for the time being and transfigured the leaves into Muggle money, stuffing it in her pocket in case of emergency. After so long without magic, it felt foreign to hold a wand and execute spells. Hermione was irritated that Voldemort had managed to make magic feel wrong to her.
"We should find a hotel to rest in for the night," Hermione suggested, dropping herself back onto the seat beside Narcissa. "Preferably one far from this spot so we will be harder to trace."
Narcissa nodded. "You will need food and a great deal of rest," she said softly.
Hermione smiled at that. It was a relief to find that being free of the dungeon didn't alter Narcissa's attitude towards her. Or at least not yet.
Free of the dungeon. Every particle of Hermione's being seemed to be keenly aware of her freedom. Even the air seemed to be embracing her. She hadn't noticed it, but the atmosphere of Malfoy Manor had been pushing against her, as though rejecting her presence or deeming her unworthy. Hermione wouldn't be surprised if there were wards on the land to prevent wizards of lesser blood status from trespassing. The idea was infuriating.
Hermione looked herself over, then Narcissa and smiled dryly. "I think we both need a bit of a makeover before we go strolling around Muggle London," she aimed her wand at Narcissa's robes to transfigure them into something more appropriate, but her wand was shaking too much and she found herself too exhausted to focus. Her arm dropped back into her lap. "Could you transfigure your clothes into something like the Muggle women are wearing?" she asked, feeling a bit lightheaded.
Narcissa nodded and watched the ladies walking by for a few minutes before carefully aiming her wand at herself and closing her eyes in focus. When she opened them again, she was dressed in a dark green pantsuit. Hermione wanted to roll her eyes; of course Narcissa Malfoy would dress like a posh Muggle.
Hermione remedied her own clothes with a "Reparo," and watched with mild fascination as the torn seams restitched themselves and the soles of her shoes mended. She still looked battered and dirty, but she guessed she would be looking that way for a while.
Narcissa eyed her critically and Hermione suddenly felt rather self-conscious. It was stupid, really, considering this woman had seen her crippled and bedraggled beyond belief. Anything had to be an improvement from how Hermione had looked in that cell.
Hermione's knotted hair began to tug itself into a twisted bun on the back of her head under the guide of Narcissa's wand.
"I think it will take more than a hairdo to make me look presentable," Hermione commented, her voice still cracked and dry. Narcissa only smiled in amusement and flicked her wand a few times, tilting her head sideways as she worked. Hermione felt the air in front of her face thicken like a condensed shield and she recognised the presence of a glamour charm.
"This should get you by without attracting too much attention," Narcissa said when she had finished. Hermione nodded her thanks and pushed herself to her feet. Immediately, her thighs quivered and her ankle began to ache. The shock must be wearing off, adrenaline slowly draining from her system and abandoning her to her injuries.
Narcissa held her elbow, waiting until she steadied herself before slowly setting off down the street to what Hermione indicated was a bus stop.
"I have never walked among Muggles like this," Narcissa remarked idly as she scanned the shop windows.
"Why am I not surprised," retorted Hermione sarcastically, limping alongside her.
Narcissa didn't respond and they walked along in silence, Hermione leaning on the other woman for support. To be among people again felt surreal, and she couldn't stop herself from startling when a pedestrian bumped her. She hadn't been among friendly crowds since Bill and Fleur's wedding…
When they boarded the bus, Narcissa whispered "Confundo," under her breath, her wand discreetly pointed at the driver, and he welcomed them aboard without pay. They sat by a window and Hermione watched the streets pass them by, trying to quell her anxiety. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't been scared. To believe that she was safe now was impossible.
"Where are we going?" Narcissa asked softly, surveying the bus with interest.
"I don't have a specific place in mind," Hermione answered quietly. "Just as long as it's far from where we appeared."
Narcissa nodded and they sat together in silence. Hermione's brain felt muddled and unstable. Her thoughts were sporadic, jumping around from topic to topic, confusing and disorienting her. She couldn't think straight, and she needed to do that if they were going to survive the night.
"Let's get off here," Hermione blurted out after half a dozen stops, jumping to her feet unsteadily and rushing to the door. Narcissa followed, surprised by Hermione's sudden movement.
The cool night air was welcome on Hermione's clammy skin; she hadn't noticed she'd been sweating. She looked up and down the street as Narcissa stood beside her, waiting for instruction.
"This way," Hermione declared, setting off down a strip of restaurants. Her footsteps were uneven and each stride aggravated her twisted ankle and bruised hip, but she kept going, believing that if she slowed for even a second she would collapse.
Narcissa walked beside her, wearily watching their surroundings and keeping a concerned eye on Hermione. "Are you alright?" she dared to ask.
"Yes," Hermione answered briskly, turning a corner and finding herself eye-to-eye with the foyer of a Hilton. "Perfect," she muttered, satisfied that even under stress she was able to get them where they needed.
Narcissa held the door for them both and Hermione hobbled through. The golden light reflecting off the pale marble floor and elegantly furnished foyer hit her eyes like a Stunning spell. She stared, dazed and unfocused, ahead of her. She could feel her breathing become shallow and suddenly didn't know how to move.
"Hermione," Narcissa whispered near her ear. "Hermione, you are unwell." Placing one hand on her elbow and the other on her back, Narcissa guided Hermione to a leather sofa against the wall. Hermione stumbled, following blindly, and crumpled onto the cushions. Narcissa wasted no time casting a Notice Me Not and knelt before Hermione, trying to keep her attention long enough to get the information she needed.
"What do I need to do?"
"Ask for a room for two," Hermione mumbled, closing her eyes and pressing her clammy cheek against the cool leather. "For one night. If they ask for anything like ID, just use Confundus." Narcissa nodded and patted Hermione's cheek before standing, lifting her chin and striding to the concierge desk.
"Good evening," the girl chimed.
"Good evening," Narcissa echoed, emphasising her haughty demeanour. "I would like one room for tonight, please."
The young woman tapped at her keyboard and Narcissa couldn't help but watch curiously. Looking back up, the girl asked, "Can I have a name, please?"
Narcissa thought for a split second, then slid her wand from her sleeve and discreetly pointed it at the girl's head. "Confundo," she mumbled, and the girl's cheerful expression was replaced by dazed confusion.
"Right," she muttered, looking at her screen with furrowed brows. After a moment, she pulled out a plastic card and scanned it before slipping it in a paper wallet. She placed it on the desk with a booklet. "Here's some information about the facilities, and here is your key. Lift is to your right, and your room is number 361."
Narcissa stared at the items, puzzled, but took them in her hands like she knew what she was doing. "Thank you," she gave the girl a nod and walked to where Hermione rested, kneeling in front of her. "I did as you said," Narcissa told her gently, trying to coax her eyes open with gentle touches to her arm. "We have to go to our room now."
Hermione nodded, and pushed herself to a sitting position, though her eyes were still closed. Narcissa took her arm and helped her up, slowly guiding her to the lift as the girl had described. Narcissa was relieved that Muggles had lifts as well; that was one thing she knew how to use. She didn't see any grilles like the Ministry's lifts, but she assumed the metal doors were similar.
"Did you push the button?" Hermione mumbled after a still moment.
"Pardon?"
"You have to push the button to make the lift come." Narcissa looked at the wall, puzzled. "They have arrows on them," Hermione explained. "Push the up one."
"Ah," Narcissa took a step forward and gently pressed the indicated button, making a hum of surprise when it illuminated beneath her finger. As she pulled her hand back, she noticed the rusty shade of dried blood smeared across her arm, staining the inside of her emerald sleeve. She'd forgotten to heal herself. Goodness, she must be a sight.
A chime grabbed Narcissa's attention and she looked up to see the metal doors slide apart, presenting a small room with tinted mirrors. Narcissa guided Hermione in, jumping in surprise when the doors nearly closed on them. Hermione sank to the floor and leaned against the cool mirrors.
Narcissa looked around, surprised to find no attendant in the lift. She spotted the buttons by the door and assessed them, wondering which one was required this time. After a moment of confusion, she asked, "Which button should I press now?"
"What floor is our room?" came Hermione's reply.
"I don't know," Narcissa answered, suddenly feeling horribly inept. "The girl didn't say."
"Do you know our room number?"
"Yes, it is 361."
"Press number three," Hermione instructed, and Narcissa did as she said. The lift began to pull them upwards for a few moments and then stilled, the doors sliding open again.
Narcissa went to help Hermione stand, slowly helping her to her feet.
"The doors have shut!" she exclaimed.
"Push the open button," Hermione moaned, feeling more and more dazed as the minutes passed.
"Which one is that?"
Hermione couldn't think of the words she needed, so she stumbled forward and pressed the silver button with the triangles separating and the doors parted for them. She leaned on Narcissa, barely aware of her surroundings as the older woman guided them down the silent corridor, following the signs until she found their assigned room. "This is it," she announced, and reached for the handle. She twisted it, then frowned when it didn't move. "It will not open."
"Use the key,"
Narcissa looked at the papers she was holding against her chest. "She did not give me a key."
"It isn't a metal key," Hermione gasped, struggling to breathe. "It's a plastic card. Probably in paper. You put it in the slot." Hermione slid to the floor again, feeling herself fading rapidly while Narcissa searched for the key. When she'd found it, she leaned down to examine the slot in the door.
"Muggles are most curious, aren't they," she said to no one in particular, inspecting the illustration on the back of the card. She stuck the card in the slot as the instructions dictated and let out a noise of triumph when it made a chirping sound and flashed green. Prodding the handle again, Narcissa smiled proudly when the door opened.
"Here we are," she whispered to Hermione, gently encouraging her to crawl over the threshold. As soon as there was enough room for the door to shut beside her, Hermione curled into a ball on the floor. Narcissa closed the door and grunted in frustration when they were plunged into darkness. "Lumos," she muttered, kneeling down beside Hermione's trembling form and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What is the matter?"
Hermione was wheezing, her skin shining with sweat and even though she was hugging her knees, she was shivering. Narcissa frowned and pressed a palm to Hermione's forehead. "You have a fever," she told her with concern.
Hermione gasped for breath. "Narcissa," she cried, "I can't breathe!"