A/N: Hello! I've been churning out lots of chapters and they're sitting on my harddrive, eager to see the light of day. I'd like to get a more regular update schedule, so hopefully that's something to look forward to. Consider it a holiday gift :)
I can't wait to hear your thoughts as these two get underway.
Trigger warnings: Anxiety, dissociation
Hermione wanted nothing more than to wrap herself in this coat and hibernate until she felt well enough to face her life. Obviously, this wasn't a viable option, and Hermione smiled sadly as she took the coat off the rack and folded it over her elbow. It looked durable and versatile, not to mention it had plenty of pockets.
Turning, Hermione opened her mouth to ask if Narcissa had found something suitable, but her throat seized when she found herself alone. Frantically, Hermione scanned the department store, searching for the tell-tale streak of blonde among the racks of generic outfits. She felt her heart begin to race and her thoughts accelerate, but before they could completely lose control she spotted Narcissa's pale head in the far corner, clearly inspecting something.
Hermione hurried over to her companion on the other side of the store and breathlessly stuttered, "There you are,"
Narcissa turned, eyebrows raised and then furrowed in concern at Hermione's state. "I'm sorry," she offered apologetically. "I was under the impression that we were to shop independently."
"I don't think that would be the best option," Hermione replied matter-of-factly and hoping that her logic would override her irrational anxiety. "We should stick together, make sure we're safe."
Narcissa nodded and gave a small smile before turning back to the garment she was holding up against the light. Hermione scanned Narcissa's selection curiously.
"I'm not sure that an evening gown is the most… practical choice for what we need."
"I know," Narcissa sighed. "But I must admit, these Muggles have an admirable sense of fashion when they put their minds to it." She placed the wooden hanger back in its place against the wall and turned to Hermione. "What have you found?"
"Coat," Hermione sorted through the things in her arms held them up. "Two pairs of pants, some shirts and—" she fumbled as she tried to balance all the items and blushed a bit, "and underwear."
Narcissa nodded. "Can you show me where to find these things?"
"Sure," Hermione answered, slightly taken aback by Narcissa's direct appeal for help. She wondered how long it would be before she became accustomed to this woman's politeness. She couldn't deny that she was still on guard, ready to deflect whatever insult or slur left the Malfoy woman's pretty lips.
"Once again, I am amazed by the Muggles' ingenuity. I am not sure I would be so creative without magic."
Hermione couldn't help but stare. Narcissa was crouched over, reading the advertised information on the side of a plastic package, and hence oblivious to Hermione's astonished eyes.
"I don't think I ever could have anticipated you to be so…" Hermione's head tilted as she searched for the word and Narcissa looked up at her with eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"You said the same thing this morning, didn't you?" Narcissa turned back to the shelves she was examining, clearly self-conscious.
With a sigh, Hermione sat down next to the woman and leaned back against the metal shelves. Staring blindly at the ceiling, she mused, "I think it would be more accurate to say I interrogated you this morning."
Narcissa's answer was what could only be described as a dainty snort.
Smirking, Hermione continued, "Explaining your motives to me and watching you consistently carry them out are two very different things." The lights felt too harsh against her pupils and Hermione closed her eyes, suddenly aware that she was exhausted. Perhaps that was where her spontaneous honesty was coming from.
"I am gratified to hear you believe I am doing well." Narcissa admitted softly. Hermione heard a shift beside her and suspected Narcissa had turned and was now leaning against the shelves like Hermione.
"I keep waiting for you to slip and start smearing Mudbloods or something." Hermione could hear the movement of other customers, their footsteps and the squeaking of their trolleys, and thought that she and Narcissa must look like a very odd pair. Oh well. She was too tired and resigned to think much of it. Given her ceaseless anxiety of the past few hours, she was grateful for this peace.
"I will never again use that word," swore Narcissa. "And I am not my husband." She paused before continuing and Hermione held her breath. "Truthfully, I am not fully convinced of his commitment to this dark movement. Perhaps he once was, but no longer."
Hermione tensed at the mention of Lucius, both due to the memories his image produced and also the very personal direction this conversation was moving in. She didn't feel ready to broach this subject and she wasn't sure she'd ever want to. Right now, there was only enough room in her brain for one priority at a time and at the moment it was survival. If Narcissa Malfoy's marriage (former marriage?) ever moved up the list to the top spot, then Hermione would deal with it when it came.
"I know you have little evidence to believe me, Hermione, but I beg you to trust me."
The tone of Narcissa's voice opened Hermione's eyes and she turned her head to find Narcissa gazing at the floor. Her legs were crossed and she looked perfectly Muggle in her loose dark-wash jeans.
"Actually, I think you've given me plenty of evidence so far." Hermione admitted. With a huff, she pushed herself to her feet and grimaced at her stiff legs. "Come on," she chided, the sombre mood of the conversation dissipating completely. "We haven't picked out a tent yet."
Looking up, Narcissa nodded and turned back to the selection of tents on the shelf and began reciting the specs. Hermione listened attentively and occasionally commented, all the while hovering at Narcissa's side and resting a hand on the woman's shoulder.
"Muggles may be ingenious," Narcissa mused as she surveyed their full shopping trolley. "But I'm afraid that their technologies are far more cumbersome than ours."
Hermione smiled. "True, but lucky for us we have the best of both worlds." Running her hands admirably along the smooth material of her new bag, Hermione continued, "Everything should fit in here. We won't be weighed down by all this." She gestured to the trolley which was overflowing with bulky boxes and packages of a myriad of supplies: a tent, some cooking tools, food rations, and more.
"We should get going," Hermione suggested after a pause. They'd been there too long for Hermione's comfort.
"Yes, I agree," Narcissa concurred. A grin suddenly overtook her features and she reached into her back pocket. "And I believe this should help us with the transaction."
She held out the object for Hermione's inspection and Hermione's eyes widened.
Taking it into her hands, she hissed, "Where did you get this?"
"I saw a gentleman use it to purchase a drink earlier," Narcissa said innocently. "So I summoned it for our use. I made certain he didn't notice."
"Narcissa," Hermione looked from the shiny credit card back to the woman in question. "This is theft."
"Is that not what we have been resorting to thus far? We hardly have a wealth of options."
"Yes, but this is different." Hermione suddenly became very self-conscious and lowered her voice. "This is identity theft. If we try to make a purchase with—" she looked at the embossed letters, "Mr. Frederick Mirvue's credit card, the Muggle law enforcement will be able to track us." With a frantic movement, she gestured to the ceiling. "Do you see those black globes in the ceiling? Those are security cameras. They keep a visual record of everything that happens in this store. It's risky enough that we're here in the first place—the last thing we need is to get the Muggle authorities involved as well as the Wizarding ones!"
Hermione could see it all playing out in her mind: Voldemort and his henchmen grinning sadistically over Muggle security footage of a notably blonde woman and her frizzy-haired accomplice strolling through Muggle London on a shopping trip like they were from some chick-flick. All that was missing was the handsome yet flawed heroes who would bring them to their clichéd happy endings.
"Very well, although I fear that magically altering the memories of every shopkeeper will attract attention. We need some variety in our tactics." Narcissa's gentle yet authoritative voice brought Hermione out of her paranoia and she nodded. Stowing the stolen credit card in her back pocket, she reached for the heavy trolley and began pushing it out of the aisle and towards the checkout.
"Do you have any ideas?"
Narcissa smirked. "I thought you were our resident expert in all things Muggle."
Hermione made a broad turn with the trolley and a smile broke across her lips. "Well," she quipped. "Perhaps I'm in need of a little Pureblood wisdom."
"If this 'wisdom' is what has landed us in a war, then I'm not sure that it would be the most valuable resource." Narcissa commented bitterly.
Hermione shrugged. "We'll take out the racial superiority part then. There must be something useful hiding in all that doctrine."
Smiling lightly, Narcissa answered, "Very well."
Hermione turned the trolley again to a large desk marked "Customer Service." Hoping that her legendary lying skills were still intact, she pulled the credit card out of her back pocket and approached the woman behind the counter.
"Excuse me, but we found this credit card in one of the fitting rooms."
The woman looked up from her monitor screen and took the proffered piece of plastic. "Oh! Thanks for this—I'm sure someone will come looking for it soon." She gave them a friendly smile which Hermione stiffly returned before tugging their trolley away, Narcissa silently trailing behind.
The checkout process was an arduous one, considering the bulk of the items they'd selected. Hermione's guilt climbed with every digit on the register as she watched the price of their purchase escalate to the triple digits and beyond. She tried to sooth herself with logic, but it was only minimally effective. Theft this small won't cripple a company… It's necessary to save these Muggles, even though they don't know that….
"Looks like you two have quite the trip coming up!" The cashier commented.
Hermione's voice felt choked. "Yeah,"
"Well, you should be prepared for anything with all this stuff." The cashier read out their total and Narcissa handed over a plastic card before Hermione could so much as open her mouth. Hermione felt her heart begin to violently seize in her chest and her palms become cold and sweaty; the intensity of her reaction frightened her more than the actual situation. She was aware of Narcissa's hand settling on her back in a comforting gesture, but it did little to calm her mind. In an instant, she was furious. Did Narcissa listen to nothing?
They were standing in a deserted corridor now. The walls and floor were unglamorous concrete, so it was probably a staff-only part of the building.
Narcissa was holding Hermione's elbow and Hermione wrenched it out of the woman's grasp.
"What were you thinking?!" Her shrill whisper echoed off the concrete. "Didn't you listen to anything I told you?" Narcissa's eyes were wide in surprise and Hermione had the strongest urge to slap her flawless face. Whipping out her wand and aiming it at Narcissa's chest, she took an aggressive posture and continued, "I ought to Obliviate you on the spot and let you live out your days as a Muggle! Clearly if I keep you on my side, you'll get us both killed by the end of the week!"
"Hermione! Please! Listen to yourself! Listen to me," Narcissa took a few steps towards Hermione, but the younger witch backed away even faster. "I didn't jeopardize your safety, nor mine, I assure you. I duplicated that card and Imperiused the woman so that she would delete all records of our purchase from the shop's records on that device she was using. There was no illegal transaction."
Hermione was backed against the wall now and it felt as though her lungs were being suffocated by her ribcage as her mind haphazardly tried to sort this new information. "Why didn't you tell me beforehand?" stuttered Hermione after a moment.
"As you said, we didn't have plenty of time," Narcissa answered, concern evident in her voice. "And I did not expect you to react this way."
"Yeah, well neither did I," Hermione retorted, dropping her wand arm and stuffing it back into her pocket. She covered her eyes with her hand and tried to centre herself and calm her breathing. There was still a furious beast in her gut, urging her to fire hexes at Narcissa, and it frightened Hermione. She'd always had a rather unforgiving temper, but she'd also always been able to control it. For the most part, at least. This felt unlike anything she'd experienced; like someone else's anger had been spontaneously injected into her bloodstream. This must be like what Harry felt whenever Voldemort's thoughts seeped into his own. For a moment, Hermione wondered whether she'd been psychologically bonded to a Death Eater without realising it.
"Hermione," Narcissa whispered, and Hermione could tell that she'd moved closer. "I'm very sorry for upsetting you. Are you alright?"
Hermione took a deep breath. "It's okay; I think I'm just tired." She was surprised to find her voice strained and tears burning her eyes again. "I'm really… overwhelmed. It's like I'm not in control of my thoughts or emotions anymore." That was more forthcoming than she'd intended, but Narcissa seemed nothing but understanding. When Hermione opened her eyes, she found compassionate icy blue irises staring back at her.
"You must be kinder to yourself. You need time to recover your strength."
Hermione swiped a hot tear off her cheekbone and took another shuddering breath. "I'll try and keep myself together more. I'm sure it will get better once I've had more rest." She gave a wobbly smile and strode to their trolley, very aware that Narcissa's hand was resting on her shoulder. "I don't remember coming to this place."
"You did seem very distracted," Narcissa mused. "We're in a backroom of the same shop. There are no black domes here, so it was my understanding that we will be undetected."
Hermione looked up to the ceiling and saw nothing but pipes and the occasional light fixture.
"Alright, then," she pulled out her wand. "Let's get to work."