Title: The Whole Truth
Author: The*Spangled*Pandemonium
Chapter Title: Poor Rich Person
~~~*~~~
Draco:
What the hell was I supposed to do now?
I was trudging around the impossibly crowded muggle station having absolutely no idea for what or why I was there.
Because of some demented reason, my father told me I needed to have survival skills in the world without using magic. It's so fucking useless! I was born a pureblood, and I was raised as one! I'm a wizard, for crying out loud! I have no intention of following in my father's footsteps, becoming a Deatheater and all, and I've told him that fact already. I didn't need or want any experience with muggles, whether it's torturing them or simply walking amidst them.
I brushed back a handful of pale blond hair away from my face, scowling at the lack of respect as some random person ran into me, rushing off without as much as an "Ooops! Sorry!" No one would probably even care if I were a Malfoy in this unsophisticated, uncivilized place. I shook my head unbelievingly. No magic!
I couldn't even begin imagining how powerless I was in this place. Frankly, I didn't want to even think about it. And I wasn't about to start now.
I reluctantly remembered happened with my father yesterday, and searched for another meaning in this blasted plan.
***
"You called me, father?"
"Draco, I will be taking you to the London Underground tomorrow." He said, his tone was even and carefully expressionless.
"Erm… Why? Do you need to go to Hogsmeade? Can't we just use Floo powder instead?" I was genuinely curious about what was going to happen, maybe a bit worried. I didn't go to the muggle Underground much, only to get to Platform 9 ¾, to tell you the truth. I generally stayed away from the non-magic world. I didn't want to wallow with people that I had learned to act spiteful towards. No one really knows it, but I don't really hate mudbloods or muggles, it's just that I'm so used to being malicious about them, that it's sort of automatic now. Strange, huh?
"No. I'll be dropping you off there from the Leaky Cauldron. You have to spend a day in the muggle world. This experience will make you stronger than ever, Draco. I also had it when I was your age. I'll give you the clothes and items you should carry."
He interrupted my steady stream of complaints and exclamations with a loudly said phrase. "I have a piece of parchment with directions on it, never break the rules." He emphasized the last phrase strongly, "These are the things you need. Read everything before you go to bed now. Good Night, son." He said finally, handing me a small trunk and walking out of the room, his dark robes swishing, leaving me gaping blankly at the door.
As my father told me to do, I looked inside the trunk. I saw a neatly folded pile of clothes, an empty Jansport bag, a small weird muggle device that had a note attached to it, an item called a wallet, basic hygienic bits and pieces, and a roll of parchment.
I picked up the device with an intrigued look on my face. Squinting my pale eyes, I read the note carefully and uncertainly. Apparently, the gadget was called a "cell phone." It allowed you to talk to somebody if you dialed a certain number (called a phone number or cell phone number) and pressed a green button. You weren't supposed to yell at it, just talk normally, like the person was near you, and hold the thing up to your ear. Those were the basics. It was strangely exciting, like a new toy. The note gave me a number to call in case of emergency. I assumed that it would call my father.
Next, I pulled out the clothes. It was nothing like the garments I usually wore. The shirt was a dark remarkable jade color, with an arresting, intricate design of a dragon on it. I immediately liked it. The jeans were indigo, but somehow faded interestingly and very baggy, the brand "Levi Jeans" was sewn into the side on leather. It was provided with a leather belt, with whaddya know, another dragon on the buckle. Along with that peculiar ensemble, I had a longish sort of black trench coat, which somehow reminded me of my robes. I had no idea if I looked good, since I wasn't really into the styles of muggle clothing, but I must say, I felt comfortable in these clothes, it couldn't be that bad being a muggle in short bursts, could it?
I grabbed the wallet and opened it, enthusiastically. It really felt like Christmas, new things and all. I was disappointed to see there was only a thick wad of paper and a little note. It simply read: "I have given you ₤5000. Use what you want of it." I didn't really dwell on it, though. All I knew was that "₤" meant that it was the currency in London. I had no clue if that would buy me anything.
Lastly, I pulled out the parchment, it read:
The Rules1) Do NOT use magic
2) Do not do anything to attract attention to yourself
3) Do not tell strangers your name
4) Keep your money safe, do not show it around, it is very, very valuable
5) Keep your cell phone safe
6) Do not associate with strangers except shopkeepers, etc.
7) Do not stray too far from the London Underground
8) If you find yourself lost or are in any other emergencies, dial the number given
9) You may eat at any restaurant
10) Meet back at the Leaky cauldron at 9:00
I had guessed that was it. It didn't look too hard.
***
The task had seemed ridiculously easy yesterday, but now I was in a mode of pure panic, even though I wasn't showing it.
I pulled out the piece of parchment and re-read it for the billionth time. I wasn't exactly lost, and my items were placed securely in my backpack. Unfortunately for me, it was 5:30, and I had three and a half hours to go. God, time passes slowly.
Another person bumped into me and I looked up with annoyance. Why was everyone in a rush here? It appeared as if like everyone was late in this terrible place. From my eyes, it was like I was the only person with nothing in particular to do.
As I walked around, trying to eat up time, I had a sudden jolt of an idea. Why not eat? That would knock out an hour or so. And I did have enough cash to spend, and it wasn't like I had anything else to do.
I stepped inside a small souvenir shop and nervously asked the muggle lady inside. "Erm… Excuse me… Umm… Miss?" I stuttered, "Where's the nearest restaurant?"
She regarded me with a scrutinizing look, and I immediately held my breath nervously. Did I seem too conspicuous? What did I do now? Oh no… I hadn't even finished the first hour in this damn thing!
"Sorry, you didn't really look like a tourist." She replied (finally) and I slowly let my breath out. Really? I looked like I fit in? I thought to myself. It was strangely satisfying. "Go left and walk a while, you'll find a coffee shop." She continued and smiled at me.
"Thanks." I muttered as I left the shop without really looking at anything. I followed her directions through the chaotic area. It didn't seem too hard now.
I could see the sign above the coffee shop as I trudged closer, and I walked even faster. Maybe there I could think about what I could do next.
I was puzzled though, by a knot of people looking down at something on the concrete. I came closer, not wanting to miss out on what was happened. Did someone die? Was this what my father wanted me to see? Did it have anything to do with my job? My eyes opened widely and I gaped on the unconscious person, on the dirty pavement.
"Granger!" I yelled, bending down and trying to poke her awake. "GRANGER!"
She looked so different passed out on the filthy floor than in school, glaring at me and firing snippy replies to my insults. Her chocolate eyes were closed and her face was slack. How in the flying fuck had I gotten myself into this shit?
One of the teenage bystanders asked me, frowning slightly, asked me a stupid question, "Do you know this girl?"
Highly pissed off, I replied curtly, glaring, "Of course I do! Would I be kneeling here yelling if I didn't know who she is? Help me out here?!"
I picked up my lifeless classmate and put her on a miraculously empty bench nearby. Propping her head up on my bag, I picked up her stuff and tried once more to wake her up. "Granger!" I hissed again, trying to wave the observers nearby away. She still didn't respond.
I took out my cell phone and started to call my dad. Pausing suddenly, I realized something obvious. My dad hates muggles! There was no chance in hell that he would try to help Hermione. What would I do now?
I walked back to the motionless onlookers, facing them sheepishly. "Umm… Do any of you know the emergency numbers?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next thing I knew I was in a strange-smelling muggle hospital, drinking the coffee I wanted from a little machine nearby. I had ridden on the "ambulance" and saw Granger being rushed away by a pack of doctors.
I was genuinely worried. I couldn't help it! I was far from the Underground, in a peculiar place, with no idea how people with no magic did their medicine. My dad would kill me! Luckily, it was only 6:15, and hopefully, I could get somebody to take me back.
"Excuse me?" I asked a harried nurse. "Can I see Hermione Granger now? Because---"
"Who are you?" She interrupted, "I'm sorry, family members are only allowed right now."
"Argh…But…" I stuttered out, what could I say? I needed to see her! What could I do? "Err… I'm the one who found her… I'm her—boyfriend." I closed my eyes and breathed out wearily, embarrassed. What the hell made me say that?!
Opening my silvery eyes slowly, I was surprised to see the nurse's face scrunched up with sympathy. "Ok, son. I'll try to get you in. It must be terrible for you to find your loved one in such a dreadful state. Follow me, maybe you can contact her parents and tell them what's happened."
I followed the lady to the room where Hermione was placed comatosely on the bed. Outlandish contraptions were all around her, soft bleeping sounds monitored her heartbeat. I turned to the nurse who was watching nearby and faked a heartbreakingly sad expression on my usually sneering face.
"Can I please be left alone with her for a moment?" I whispered dramatically, congratulating myself for acting this out perfectly.
I saw the nurse nod and watched her back retreat as she walked out of the room.
Dashing quickly to where her purse was placed, I grabbed her wallet and looked for a small address booklet. I needed to find her home number! The staff might get suspicious of me if didn't know it.
Grimacing at smiling wizard photos of Harry and Ron, I finally spotted the thing I was looking for, and quickly memorized the number.
Stepping out of the room, I grabbed a passing doctor (playing the sad-boyfriend part perfectly) and asked for a phone I could use to inform Hermione's parents.
I dialed her house number, and finding no green button, I didn't do anything except hold the receiver up to my ear. Mentally, I reviewed my notes. I should not yell. I should talk normally as if they were right there. I waited…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
ring, ring ring, ring
Hermione's Mom: Hello?
Draco: Erm… Hello? Mrs. Granger?
Hermione's Mom: Umm. Yes, who is this?
Draco: Draco Malfoy.
a puzzled silence
Hermione's Mom: Okay, do I know you?
Draco: No, ma'am. I know Hermione though.
Hermione's Mom: I'm sorry, she's not here right now. Do you want to leave a message?
Draco: No, thank you. I'm afraid I've got some bad news to tell you about her. She's at the hospital right now.
gasp heard through the telephone
Hermione's Mom: Oh no! What happened? Her father was going to pick her up soon!
Draco: She was at the train station, waiting, I think for her train, and she slipped in a puddle and fell down the stairs. She's unconscious right now. I'm sorry…
hysterically said
Hermione's Mom: How did you know? Why did you help? Who ARE you?
Draco: I was at the train station too. Why shouldn't I help one of my barely smothered snicker close friends?
Hermione's Mom: I didn't know you and she were close… I'm sorry, it's just that she never really talked about you.
Draco: suppressed snort Are you sure? She and I get along very well.
Hermione's Mom: I might have forgotten… Anyway… We'll be right over! You just wait for us. Bye.
Draco: Ok, Bye. Come safely!
click
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I was simply sitting at the small chair next to Hermione, watching her motionless form breathing softly. I couldn't help it. She looked so damn different. She wasn't mirroring my mocking look or scoffing at whatever insult I had thrown at her. She just looked like a small child. Despite the lies I pulled at the hospital personnel, I couldn't help looking tenderly at her. Even though I didn't like her, I felt somewhat honorable. You know, saving a damsel in distress and all. It was a feeling that was brand new to me, unlike her perfect Harry Potter and Weasel, who had saved her many times in the past year. Just looking at her there, beautiful and vulnerable, I couldn't help wondering why I never liked her before.
As I was thinking deep thoughts, a slim middle-aged woman with shiny brown curls came over and hugged me warmly.
"There he is Philip!" She said tenderly, gazing at me with surprisingly familiar eyes, "That's Draco! He saved our Hermione!"
A tall man came towards me and stuck out a large hand. "I'm Hermione's father. Nice to meet you. Since when have you and my daughter been going out?" He said, his eyes twinkling.
As I was practically open mouthed with horror, the nurse I spoke to came in. That bitch! She must have told them that I was Granger's boyfriend!
"Umm… A while already. I'm surprised she didn't mention me." I spoke, inventing quickly. I had to do this properly, if I wanted to leave the room with my head still attached. I couldn't say "Oh, no, sir. I would never date a filthy mudblood like her… I've been spending the past few years making her life miserable!" I suddenly, thought up something striking and heart-wrenching to blab out, "It was so painful to see her like that. I called the paramedics… I need for her to be ok… How could this happen to such a great person?" I molded my expression to a "weary, frightened lover's" with a bit of "anger at the world" mixed in. Seriously, Shakespearian quality. To tell you the truth, I was alarmed at the supposedly heartfelt words slipping out. It seemed real to me, even though I knew the feelings were completely made up.
Hermione's mom was looking at me with an affectionate face, while her father was looking like he wanted to adopt me. Damn, I felt proud. Like I won a Quidditch match or something.
I checked my watch. It was 8:15. I needed to go back to the Underground. I only had forty-five minutes until my dad would arrive.
"I'm sorry… I need to go back to the Station…" I hinted. I really, really needed a ride back to the Leaky Cauldron. "Do you know where I can get a…taxi?" My mind had searched for the right word. Good thing I remembered it in time.
As I expected, an offer was presented. "We'll take you there." Mr. Granger told me.
I thanked them profusely. And promised I would return the next day. By Floo powder in their fireplace. I had broken five of the rules. All this for a person I kept on telling myself I disliked immensely. I didn't even use up any of the cash. What the hell was I doing?!