A/N: I'm sorry I didn't put the disclaimer in the last chapter, but see chap. 1 for disclaimer.
Chapter 3 - Entrapment
Hermione looked at the pile of papers in front of her. She still had no idea what she was going to teach. There was usually a place open at Hogwarts, Defense Against the Dark Arts being the most frequent opening, but did she really want to teach in that division? She wasn't sure.
She looked at the tawny owl sitting on the edge of her desk. Since Crookshanks had disappeared in her last year at Hogwarts, Harry and Ron had decided to get her an owl. She'd named it Perry, for no particular reason except the owl reminded her of a muggle teacher from her school when she was younger - Mr. Perryman.
The teacher had worn huge glasses, and this owl had large black rings around its eyes. Perry stared back at Hermione, who then had an idea. She grabbed a pen as she was currently in the muggle world, and a piece of paper.
Harry,
I have a huge favor to ask. You told me that Malfoy has a muggle shop now, what's it called and where is it?
Thanks,
Hermione.
She tied the paper to Perry's lag and let him out of the building. "Take it straight to Harry, ok Perry?" Perry hooted loudly, earning him a glare from Hermione, and headed out into the night.
Sighing softly, she sat back in her chair and flipped the pages of her journal. Maybe Malfoy would help her, maybe he wouldn't. Whatever the result, it was worth a chance.
*****
Harry was sitting on his bed, writing notes to Ron and Ginny, when Perry flew in the open window. The owl was really a cheeky owl, and refused to give the letter to Harry until Harry gave it some of the small biscuits.
"Rat," he spoke under his breath. He scan read the note and looked at Perry, bewildered. "What the Hell? Do you know why she wants to contact Malfoy?"
Perry cocked his head to one side and gave a low, disgruntled hoot, as if to say 'why the Hell would I know?'
Harry laughed. "Ok, fine. Wait a minute and I'll write a reply." He sat back down and grabbed his quill.
Hermione,
It's in the muggle side, about opposite to Gringotts, and I think it's called Draco's Dungeons or something. Why do you want to know? Have you got an idea for a subject to teach, or something? Let me know how everything goes, ok? Take care,
Harry.
PS Ron said to tell you that Dumbledore is sending you an owl soon. I don't know what about.
He signed off the letter and tied it to Perry's leg once again. As the owl flew out of the window, another flew in. This time, it was a dark, almost black owl. His godfather's, obviously in a hurry. It dropped a parcel on the bed and took off again.
Inside the brown wrapping paper were a small crystal flask and a silver key. A hurriedly scrawled note was included, and he read it with some interest.
Harry,
The flask is for collecting the potions. The key is for getting into the glass room, where you'll find other flasks like this one. Take care, and do not get burned. Dumbledore's mixture will help you with that. Also, you'll find something to help you in the closet of the glass room.
Take care,
Sirius.
PS Argentina is great! I'll see you at the next big Quidditch match, which is being played here!
Harry smiled and looked at the crystal flask closer. It had small etchings around the top, and along the lid. It was quite small compared to some of the ones he'd seen in the past, and some of the ones he'd used, but still very strong.
He sighed and put it on the shelf with the rest of the full flasks already lined there. He turned and quickly threw on his practise robes, for quidditch, and headed down the stairs, grabbing his original Thunderbolt, which Sirius had given him.
He was appapperating(sp?) to some small part of England where no Muggles usually went - it was there that the English team for Quidditch was practicing. And he was running late.
*****
Hermione looked at the brightly coloured shop. Muggles walked in and out of the building, so Hermione wondered if it was indeed the right place. Apparently, it was.
She waited, nervously, for the rest of the Muggles to clear out before she pushed the door open and headed inside. She couldn't see anyone, not even a cashier.
Nervously, she called out, "Hello? Is anyone here?"
An angry-sounding voice called out from the back room, "Yeah, yeah, hold yer dragons, I'm comin'!"
Hermione half-smiled at the words. An ordinary Muggle would find it quite strange to hear that, especially when the usual term was about horses, not dragons.
An annoyed looking Draco Malfoy walked out from the back room, reading through some papers. "Is there anything I can help you wi.... Granger."
He stopped in his tracks, surprise sliding over his features, closely followed by anger. "What do you want, mudblood? Potter tell you about the shop, eh? And you come to poke fun, like Weasle and the rest? Well, save yer breath, coz if you came to do that, you can turn yourself around and beat it. I don't got any time for that shit."
He put the papers down on the bench and glared.
Hermione swallowed nervously. "Umm... no. I didn't come to poke fun at you, I need you to help me with something."
Draco looked dubious. "Me, help you?" he asked sarcastically. "Now isn't that a change? You were always the smart one at school, always best at everything you tried? What could *you* possibly need my help with?"
She swallowed again, wondering how she was ever going to go through with this.
*****
Ginny walked towards Dumbledore's office, nervously, as she hated being called forwards. McGonagall(sp?) had scared her by singling her out like she had. Maybe it had something to do with Ivy? She didn't know, and if she'd had her way, she wouldn't ever find out.
When she arrived at the door, she knocked timidly. The door opened, and she saw the old wizard sitting at his desk. "You... you wanted to see me, Professor?"
He looked up. "Miss Weasley. Yes, I did want to see you. I'm afraid... I'm afraid I have bad news."
Ginny paled. "B...Bad news, Professor?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. It's about your brothers, Fred and George...."
Ginny cut in quickly with, "What do you mean? Are they alright? I mean, did something happen to them?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Calm down, Miss Weasley. It is not a case for hysterics. There has been an accident at their store. Your mother will be here presently, to take you home. I suggest you go and pack."
Ginny nodded. "Uh huh, I'm going."
Draco looked at his watch, a Muggle watch, and then back at Hermione. "I'm waiting. What do you want?"
She took a step forward, but before she could say anything a strong wind blew her towards Draco. She looked behind her to see an angry looking Lucious Malfoy standing where the front door used to be.
He took another step inwards, winds still swirling around him, shooting glass towards the pair. "This is your last chance, Draco. Give up this petty shop, and stand at my side, like the *Malfoy* you've been taught to be."
Hermione crawled behind the bench Draco was standing at. There was a trapdoor in the floor below the desk and she looked up at Draco, who pointed downwards without taking his eyes off his father.
She lifted the door carefully, trying not to make too much noise. It needn't have mattered; Draco and Lucious were involved in a shouting match to drown out a bomb. She slipped inside, closely followed by Draco, just in time to hear the shop abpve them come tumbling down.
Inside the basement, Hermione pulled out her wand and whispered a lighting spell. The room at once came alight from no particular position.
Hearing Draco swear under his breath, she turned to see him trying to move the trapdoor. It was stuck.
"Great. I'm attacked by my father, and I'm stuck in a small room with a mudblood. What a *fantastic* day this is turning out to be." He muttered sarcastically.
Hermione bristled. "You think *you're* having a bad day? I'm stuck in a basement, with a deformed death-eater! I'm the one whose having a bad day."
Draco glared at her. "I think the word you're looking for is not *deformed*, but *reformed*. Why else do you think my father is trying to get me back? He wants me to be a death-eater again, and I don't want to!"
He stopped yelling, realizing what he'd just told his long-time enemy. Hermione just stared.
She looked away, and walked around the edges of the basement. There was no other escape route, except that which they came in through, and that way was blocked.
She stopped walking around and looked at him. "Why? I mean... what?"
He smiled sarcastically. "You heard me. I didn't - don't - want to be a death-eater, and now my father is disowning me unless I join him again. Go figure."
Hermione looked down. Draco didn't know if she was shocked, embarrassed, or just plain old angry. She took a step towards him. "I didn't know..."
He took a step closer, trying to hear her better. "Why should you have? It was my business, not yours."
Hermione took another step. "Yeah... but, why didn't we hear anything? Your father isn't the sort of guy to keep everything a secret...."
Draco looked at her in disbelief. "And bring dishonor to the family name? I don't think so. This is the sort of embarrassment he keeps for family only."
Hermione, now realizing they were standing so close, they were practically breathing each other's breath, spoke again. But this time, her voice was barely a whisper. "F..family only?"
He nodded. "Uh huh... family... only...."
Both leaned forwards, and later on when they thought about the kiss, neither could remember who initiated it. But both knew it was something.
It started out tentative, nervous even, but grew stronger, more passionate. Draco cradled Hermione's face with his hands; she let hers rest on his waist. He'd grown to almost 6'4", and she'd only reached 5'7", so she stood on tiptoe, and he bent down.
They broke off, slowly. Neither daring to look at one another, Hermione broke the silence. "We *really* need to get out of here...."
He agreed, turning towards the door as he did so. "Don't I know it?"
Each took their wands and aimed a spell at the blocked doorway. Hermione spoke the regular clearing spell she'd learnt, "Clearenabla", whereas Draco opted for the more destructive, "Destryolae".
The trapdoor simply flew from the opening, and Hermione glared at Draco. "Always destroying things, aren't you?"
He shrugged. "What?" he asked in mock disbelief. Hermione stalked past him, past the rubble that was the shop, and onto the street. He followed grimly.
Chapter 3 - Entrapment
Hermione looked at the pile of papers in front of her. She still had no idea what she was going to teach. There was usually a place open at Hogwarts, Defense Against the Dark Arts being the most frequent opening, but did she really want to teach in that division? She wasn't sure.
She looked at the tawny owl sitting on the edge of her desk. Since Crookshanks had disappeared in her last year at Hogwarts, Harry and Ron had decided to get her an owl. She'd named it Perry, for no particular reason except the owl reminded her of a muggle teacher from her school when she was younger - Mr. Perryman.
The teacher had worn huge glasses, and this owl had large black rings around its eyes. Perry stared back at Hermione, who then had an idea. She grabbed a pen as she was currently in the muggle world, and a piece of paper.
Harry,
I have a huge favor to ask. You told me that Malfoy has a muggle shop now, what's it called and where is it?
Thanks,
Hermione.
She tied the paper to Perry's lag and let him out of the building. "Take it straight to Harry, ok Perry?" Perry hooted loudly, earning him a glare from Hermione, and headed out into the night.
Sighing softly, she sat back in her chair and flipped the pages of her journal. Maybe Malfoy would help her, maybe he wouldn't. Whatever the result, it was worth a chance.
*****
Harry was sitting on his bed, writing notes to Ron and Ginny, when Perry flew in the open window. The owl was really a cheeky owl, and refused to give the letter to Harry until Harry gave it some of the small biscuits.
"Rat," he spoke under his breath. He scan read the note and looked at Perry, bewildered. "What the Hell? Do you know why she wants to contact Malfoy?"
Perry cocked his head to one side and gave a low, disgruntled hoot, as if to say 'why the Hell would I know?'
Harry laughed. "Ok, fine. Wait a minute and I'll write a reply." He sat back down and grabbed his quill.
Hermione,
It's in the muggle side, about opposite to Gringotts, and I think it's called Draco's Dungeons or something. Why do you want to know? Have you got an idea for a subject to teach, or something? Let me know how everything goes, ok? Take care,
Harry.
PS Ron said to tell you that Dumbledore is sending you an owl soon. I don't know what about.
He signed off the letter and tied it to Perry's leg once again. As the owl flew out of the window, another flew in. This time, it was a dark, almost black owl. His godfather's, obviously in a hurry. It dropped a parcel on the bed and took off again.
Inside the brown wrapping paper were a small crystal flask and a silver key. A hurriedly scrawled note was included, and he read it with some interest.
Harry,
The flask is for collecting the potions. The key is for getting into the glass room, where you'll find other flasks like this one. Take care, and do not get burned. Dumbledore's mixture will help you with that. Also, you'll find something to help you in the closet of the glass room.
Take care,
Sirius.
PS Argentina is great! I'll see you at the next big Quidditch match, which is being played here!
Harry smiled and looked at the crystal flask closer. It had small etchings around the top, and along the lid. It was quite small compared to some of the ones he'd seen in the past, and some of the ones he'd used, but still very strong.
He sighed and put it on the shelf with the rest of the full flasks already lined there. He turned and quickly threw on his practise robes, for quidditch, and headed down the stairs, grabbing his original Thunderbolt, which Sirius had given him.
He was appapperating(sp?) to some small part of England where no Muggles usually went - it was there that the English team for Quidditch was practicing. And he was running late.
*****
Hermione looked at the brightly coloured shop. Muggles walked in and out of the building, so Hermione wondered if it was indeed the right place. Apparently, it was.
She waited, nervously, for the rest of the Muggles to clear out before she pushed the door open and headed inside. She couldn't see anyone, not even a cashier.
Nervously, she called out, "Hello? Is anyone here?"
An angry-sounding voice called out from the back room, "Yeah, yeah, hold yer dragons, I'm comin'!"
Hermione half-smiled at the words. An ordinary Muggle would find it quite strange to hear that, especially when the usual term was about horses, not dragons.
An annoyed looking Draco Malfoy walked out from the back room, reading through some papers. "Is there anything I can help you wi.... Granger."
He stopped in his tracks, surprise sliding over his features, closely followed by anger. "What do you want, mudblood? Potter tell you about the shop, eh? And you come to poke fun, like Weasle and the rest? Well, save yer breath, coz if you came to do that, you can turn yourself around and beat it. I don't got any time for that shit."
He put the papers down on the bench and glared.
Hermione swallowed nervously. "Umm... no. I didn't come to poke fun at you, I need you to help me with something."
Draco looked dubious. "Me, help you?" he asked sarcastically. "Now isn't that a change? You were always the smart one at school, always best at everything you tried? What could *you* possibly need my help with?"
She swallowed again, wondering how she was ever going to go through with this.
*****
Ginny walked towards Dumbledore's office, nervously, as she hated being called forwards. McGonagall(sp?) had scared her by singling her out like she had. Maybe it had something to do with Ivy? She didn't know, and if she'd had her way, she wouldn't ever find out.
When she arrived at the door, she knocked timidly. The door opened, and she saw the old wizard sitting at his desk. "You... you wanted to see me, Professor?"
He looked up. "Miss Weasley. Yes, I did want to see you. I'm afraid... I'm afraid I have bad news."
Ginny paled. "B...Bad news, Professor?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. It's about your brothers, Fred and George...."
Ginny cut in quickly with, "What do you mean? Are they alright? I mean, did something happen to them?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Calm down, Miss Weasley. It is not a case for hysterics. There has been an accident at their store. Your mother will be here presently, to take you home. I suggest you go and pack."
Ginny nodded. "Uh huh, I'm going."
Draco looked at his watch, a Muggle watch, and then back at Hermione. "I'm waiting. What do you want?"
She took a step forward, but before she could say anything a strong wind blew her towards Draco. She looked behind her to see an angry looking Lucious Malfoy standing where the front door used to be.
He took another step inwards, winds still swirling around him, shooting glass towards the pair. "This is your last chance, Draco. Give up this petty shop, and stand at my side, like the *Malfoy* you've been taught to be."
Hermione crawled behind the bench Draco was standing at. There was a trapdoor in the floor below the desk and she looked up at Draco, who pointed downwards without taking his eyes off his father.
She lifted the door carefully, trying not to make too much noise. It needn't have mattered; Draco and Lucious were involved in a shouting match to drown out a bomb. She slipped inside, closely followed by Draco, just in time to hear the shop abpve them come tumbling down.
Inside the basement, Hermione pulled out her wand and whispered a lighting spell. The room at once came alight from no particular position.
Hearing Draco swear under his breath, she turned to see him trying to move the trapdoor. It was stuck.
"Great. I'm attacked by my father, and I'm stuck in a small room with a mudblood. What a *fantastic* day this is turning out to be." He muttered sarcastically.
Hermione bristled. "You think *you're* having a bad day? I'm stuck in a basement, with a deformed death-eater! I'm the one whose having a bad day."
Draco glared at her. "I think the word you're looking for is not *deformed*, but *reformed*. Why else do you think my father is trying to get me back? He wants me to be a death-eater again, and I don't want to!"
He stopped yelling, realizing what he'd just told his long-time enemy. Hermione just stared.
She looked away, and walked around the edges of the basement. There was no other escape route, except that which they came in through, and that way was blocked.
She stopped walking around and looked at him. "Why? I mean... what?"
He smiled sarcastically. "You heard me. I didn't - don't - want to be a death-eater, and now my father is disowning me unless I join him again. Go figure."
Hermione looked down. Draco didn't know if she was shocked, embarrassed, or just plain old angry. She took a step towards him. "I didn't know..."
He took a step closer, trying to hear her better. "Why should you have? It was my business, not yours."
Hermione took another step. "Yeah... but, why didn't we hear anything? Your father isn't the sort of guy to keep everything a secret...."
Draco looked at her in disbelief. "And bring dishonor to the family name? I don't think so. This is the sort of embarrassment he keeps for family only."
Hermione, now realizing they were standing so close, they were practically breathing each other's breath, spoke again. But this time, her voice was barely a whisper. "F..family only?"
He nodded. "Uh huh... family... only...."
Both leaned forwards, and later on when they thought about the kiss, neither could remember who initiated it. But both knew it was something.
It started out tentative, nervous even, but grew stronger, more passionate. Draco cradled Hermione's face with his hands; she let hers rest on his waist. He'd grown to almost 6'4", and she'd only reached 5'7", so she stood on tiptoe, and he bent down.
They broke off, slowly. Neither daring to look at one another, Hermione broke the silence. "We *really* need to get out of here...."
He agreed, turning towards the door as he did so. "Don't I know it?"
Each took their wands and aimed a spell at the blocked doorway. Hermione spoke the regular clearing spell she'd learnt, "Clearenabla", whereas Draco opted for the more destructive, "Destryolae".
The trapdoor simply flew from the opening, and Hermione glared at Draco. "Always destroying things, aren't you?"
He shrugged. "What?" he asked in mock disbelief. Hermione stalked past him, past the rubble that was the shop, and onto the street. He followed grimly.