Chapter 3: Who Needs A Plan
Michelle's eyes were burning. Her head hurt. She was pissed off.
If only he would stop smoking, she thought. She tossed a glare at the man sitting a table away from her. The Leaky Cauldron was bursting at the seams when she arrived. She was lucky to even find a place to sit. Was there some convention in town she didn't know about? Her eyes darted about in hopes of spotting Dumbledore. She had gotten here with minutes to spare, but hadn't located him yet. Instead, she caught the eye of her waitress and ordered another drink.
As the waitress moved away from her table towards the bar, Michelle noticed the smoking man was talking to someone. He was tall and had flowing blonde hair that was almost white. Dumbledore? Her hope lasted all of two seconds. She looked him over some more and realized this man was younger. He turned and spotted her staring.
Shit.
He came to her purposfully, as though he were expecting her to rise and bow to him. His robes were obviously made especially for him. They moved with his body and gave him an even larger presence than his obvious arrogance did. He paused in front of her table. Not bothering to actually lower his head to see her, he looked down his nose at her.
"You must be Miss Larson?" his tone was deliberate...calm, but with just a hint of disdain.
"I am." Michelle watched his eyes carefully, "And you are?"
His nostrils flared.
Michelle held in a smile. She knew exactly who he was. Knew it the second she'd seen his face.
"Lucius Malfoy."
"What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?"
"I am sure there is nothing you can do for me Miss Larson. But, there may be something I can do for you."
"Really? What would that be?"
"I understand you are going to be teaching at Hogwarts this year."
"Teaching assistant, actually. I still have some classes to take this summer before I'll be an official instructor."
"I am also told you claim to be a Seer."
"I don't claim anything. I am a Seer."
"Do you really think you should be exposing yourself at a school where you will be endangering the lives of young children?"
"Exposing my self?"
"I remember a time, not so long ago, when Seers were not to be trusted. They were exterminated like vermin." Malfoy's hand absently caressed the top of his walking stick.
"Sounds like you miss those days..."
"You misunderstand me. I only wish to point out the risks your kind take. By being at the school, my child's life is in peril because of your presence."
"Are we going to get to the part where you offer to help me anytime soon, because if this is going to take awhile I'm ordering food..."
Malfoy sneered violently, his face becoming even colder than before.
"I'd like to offer you the opportunity to do your special form of magic somewhere other than the school."
"And where would this place be?"
"I have connections at the Ministry of Magic..."
Michelle cut him off. "I bet you do."
His grip on the top of the cane tightened. She was trying his patience.
"I am sure you could be placed in a safe location where you would be guarded from any element who would wish to hurt you."
"Or, I'd be placed in a remote location where no one would hear from me. A location that would probably be leaked to one of the Death Eaters, purely by accident I'm sure."
"You have a vivid imagination Miss Larson."
"No more than yours, Mr. Malfoy, if you think I'm going to hide myself away."
"Very well. I have made my offer. But I warn you, if anything happens to my son because of you, it'll be your head."
"How very Tower Of London of you, sir." Michelle jumped as the waitress finally returned with her drink. She'd completely forgotten it.
Malfoy chuckled seeing her twitch from surprise. "Good day Miss Larson. If you change your mind, I'm sure you can 'see' your way to finding me."
Michelle groaned. Well, isn't he the witty one, she thought. She took a long drink from her glass. Her eyes were still burning and she was still ticked off.
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Dumbledore had finally arrived. He'd been detained by Filch. Peeves had taken it upon himself to douse each of the Quidditch trophies with some sort of liquid. Michelle wasn't sure what exactly, but she did know "dung" had been mentioned as an ingredient. Filch had been furious and demanded Dumbledore speak to Peeves right then. Michelle went over her intervention ideas with the headmaster. She wasn't feeling too confident about any of them and needed some feedback. Even though he listened closely and nodded once or twice, Dumbledore didn't committ to any one plan. He told Michelle it was her decision to make. He did seem somewhat concerned that Malfoy senior had approached her. They had talked for a couple of hours till Dumbledore was called away.
Michelle took her time going home. She needed to think some more. She walked home barely noticing the rain that had begun to fall. By the time she reached her building, she was soaked. Her bangs were dripping water straight into her eyes, forcing her to blink repeatedly. There was someone sitting on her steps under an umbrella. Michelle slowed her walk, slipping her hand into the pocket of her coat to grab her wand. She slid the wand as far up her sleeve as it would go before pulling her hand out and resting it at her side.
She cursed to herself, realizing she couldn't grab her keys thanks to the fact she was holding her wand. For a split second, she thought about walking on and circling the block. Then she heard her name.
"I was hoping you'd be here soon." Hermione lifted the umbrella to look at her.
"Hermione? What are you doing here?" Michelle shoved her wand back into her pocket. Pulling out her keys, she opened the door so they could enter the hall.
"I got a call from Harry. My folks were coming to town to visit friends so I asked if I could tag along and come see you...I hope that was alright."
Michelle lead the way up the stairs. "Sure. Come on in."
Hermione shook out her umbrella and left it outside the door to Michelle's flat. Stepping inside, she walked around the living room while Michelle dried off.
"So, Harry says you two had a fight..." Hermoine called into the other room.
Michelle's head poked out in surprise. "Did he tell you what the fight was about?"
"No. He just said he acted like a jerk and he was worried about you. The call was short, but I got the idea he wanted me to talk to you about it."
Michelle stepped out of her room. "Can I get you anything? Tea?"
"Have you learned to make a proper cup yet?"
"That'll be a soda then..." Michelle opened the fridge and got out a couple of cans. She sat next to Hermione on the sofa.
"Cheers." Hermione took a long sip before arranging herself on the couch.
Michelle almost laughed. Hermione reminded her of a teacher she'd once had back in America. Whenever she was preparing to have a serious discussion with a student, she would sit very properly in her chair, her face all business.
"Okay, the fight--how did it start?" Hermione sat with her hands folded in her lap, her back perfectly straight.
"Well officer, party of the first part--that's me--had a vision and told party of the second part--that's Harry--what she saw."
Hermione frowned. She hated it when she wasn't taken seriously. "What did you see?"
"I saw Draco Malfoy being killed."
Hermione's eyes almost popped out of her head. "Really? Was it very painful?"
Michelle was confused. "Painful to see or painful for him?"
"Painful for him..."
"Jeez, what is it with you people! Harry said almost the same thing."
"Sorry. I'm still a little mad at him for kidnapping me and everything."
"I know. It's just weird to think someone our age could be so hated. It's not like he's had tons of time to make enemies."
"He's very efficient."
"Apparently. Anyway, I told Harry I had to intervene and he was not happy." Michelle absently ran her finger round the edge of her soda can.
"Of course you have to get involved. That's what you do...isn't it?"
"Yep."
"Anything else?" Hermione let herself relax into the sofa.
"Uh...nope, that was about it. It's just I didn't expect him to be so...dark."
"Dark?"
"I know he can't stand Malfoy, but you should have heard him Hermione. There was real hatred in his voice. It just freaked me out. It made me wonder...how much of Voldermort has become a part of him."
Hermione's face went sad. "I wonder, too."
"There is another possibility."
"What's that?"
"He's acting like a hurt teenager."
"A hurt teenage guy to boot." Hermione shifted where she sat. "What's the plan?"
"I'm going to go see Draco."
"And?"
"That's all I've got so far."
Hermione had to smile. "Not much of a plan."
"I like to think I'm being flexible." Michelle sighed. "That or really, really stupid."
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A/N: Okay, so this chapter isn't the best. I've been working on it and couldn't get it quite right. I'm tired of looking at it so I'm putting it up anyway. Thanks FPC, Rockbaby67 and Call-Sugarhigh-Police for reading and for feedback. I'll try and have Ch. 4 up faster than it took to get this one up. Thanks for your patience. Oh, the title of this chapter sucks and I have a feeling Peeves couldn't douse much of anything, but I sort of latched on the dung idea and didn't feel like correcting it. Maybe he made an elf do the actual pouring...
