Hermione rolled her eyes and glanced down at the paper, the headline catching her eye:
Mass Wand Robberies Reported, 2 Ministry Officials Captive--
Strange – Muggle Coffee Shoppe
Hermione stared at the paper, willing it to show the real message. It just couldn't be. This wasn't right - it didn't make any sense. She glanced up at the headline, then at the title, as if checking to see whether it was the same paper she had been getting all summer, and, sure enough, it was. The Daily Prophet was printed in bold lettering across the top. Hermione continued staring and the silence seemed to bear down until, at last, Draco broke the quiet.
"Why do you look so surprised?" Draco asked, searching her face for an answer, but he wasn't going to find it there. Even she didn't have an answer for this one, and she had always thought she would have an answer. Her eyes flickered up to meet his for a brief second before returning to their position on the dubious headline.
This couldn't be real, it couldn't be right. Had he visited some prank shop before coming here? She glanced at the heading again, willing it to be a different paper, a different year, a different life entirely, but no matter how many times she wished it to change, it wouldn't. The same headline remained and her heart had fallen into her stomach.
Hermione stood, grabbing Draco's arm and dragging him out of the shoppe. She needed to be somewhere where she was going to be able to talk to him, without worrying about who would overhear them or what was going to happen. She needed to be somewhere alone with him.
She led him to a more secluded section of the area, one inhabited by wizard folk, and she sunk into a nearby chair, her entire reserve of strength evaporating in mere seconds.
"So," Draco said, filling in the uncomfortable silence.
"This. . . this is real?" she asked, gesturing to the paper clasped in her hand. She wished with all of her heart that he would burst out laughing right now about how he had pulled the wool over her eyes for the first time ever.
"One hundred percent." Was his definite answer. That was it, Hermione realized, and her insides vanished. This was the beginning of a situation she knew she wouldn't ever hope to be able to scope the enormity of.
"So, these. . . these wand robberies, they've been happening a lot lately?" She asked, her thirst for knowledge beginning to take over her emotions and actions. Information first, panic later.
"Yes, three wand shops in Germany have been cleaned out completely of their stock. There are enough wands that have been stolen to give them to nearly every muggle in existence, they could supply enough wands for something huge," Draco said, looking at her obviously wanting her speculations.
"Something huge like an army," was her answer, and a dawning of understanding appeared in his gray eyes.
"You think the people behind this are trying to get together an unstoppable army." Draco said, as if reading her thoughts. "You think they're planning on taking over."
"They plan on conquering." Hermione corrected. "There's no other use for that many wands. . . What else has been happening in the news?" She asked, searching for more clues that might fit together.
"The only other piece that is out in the puzzle right now is that people have been taken captive. Ministry officials, the prime minister in Romania was taken, people of high importance from a wide variety of places." At Draco's words, Hermione's mind leapt into overwork mode instantly. There had to be a connection between these two events, past experiences had already told her that.
"What would they want with ministry officials?" Hermione asked after a brief pause in the conversation. Draco eyed her for a moment before speaking.
"Who's 'they', Hermione?" he asked. She looked around to make sure no one was really paying attention to the two of them. Nobody was.
"Voldemort," she whispered pointedly as she leaned forward. She still hated to say the name, but she had started using it more. Dumbledore had to be right, fear of the name only increased fear in the thing itself.
"Why are you so set on him?" Draco asked. "Not everything in the world is going to boil down to Potter and his magical powers." He said slightly coldly. Apparently he still wasn't too fond of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, and if she were honest with herself, neither was Hermione, not at the moment.
"I'm not, it's just . . ." Hermione trailed off, not sure how to describe her feeling. She just had this weird notion that it had to do with the Dark Lord.
"Just what?" He pressed, obviously set on getting his answer, no matter how demanding he needed to be in order to achieve this.
"I don't know. . ." she said honestly, because she didn't. Her mind frantically searched for words to describe what she thoughts, but she couldn't.
Hermione sighed, "I hate this."
"Too bad, we're stuck in it." Was the only bit of consolation Draco offered her, which wasn't much on the scale of consolation.
"I know."
---
Hermione's wand and the mysterious figure carrying it continued moving further away from her position. The grimy hand with abnormally short fingers was sweating. This task was much too difficult, his master much to crazy, but a promise was a promise, one that could never be broken.
---
First, I want to apologize for the horrifically short nature of this chapter, then I want to apologize for being gone so long. If you're into excuses, we have some mighty huge projects going on at school, but if you're not into excuses, I have become a lazy pig.
Please read and review, if you remember this story at all!
--Saquoia--