CHAPTER 9

'So what's a Foreign Exchange Department anyway?' Draco asked.

He was fully dressed, once more in a formal black suit, flipping through the file that Bill had handed them.

'Hm?' Hermione asked, carelessly, as she brushed her hair in front of the mirror.

'We're in a Muggle Hotel. I asked the manager to book us with Jenkins from the Foreign Exchange Department because that's what's written in the file. He didn't bat a fucking eyelid. So it's obviously a Muggle thing. But then how come Wilder Jenkins works there?'

'It's a disguise, I suppose,' Hermione said, carefully gathering her hair in a knot. 'You know, a cover. He works for the Singaporean Ministry, he's a Senior Advisor to the Minister. That's quite a prestigious job, of course.'

'So what exactly are we going to tell him?' Draco asked, leaning back in his chair.

'Well,' Hermione murmured, gliding a lipstick over her lips, 'I thought your idea was pretty good. You know, telling him we were concerned about international relations because of the problems that the Resistance was creating. It'll make a good start, anyway.'

'Right,' Draco said, 'Are you done yet? You look fine.'

'Are you sure?' Hermione asked, worriedly, standing up and twirling in front of the mirror. She was dressed in a beige skirt and jacket, with a pressed white shirt, and pencil heels. 'Do you think it's formal enough?'

'It's perfect,' Draco said. 'Get your briefcase, the one with the phony documents, and lets leave.'

Hermione picked up her small briefcase, and they exited the room.

'A taxis waiting for us downstairs,' Hermione said, as they stepped into the elevator. 'I talked to the manager, he said he could manage it.'

'Good,' Draco said, 'So where do we meet Jenkins?'

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. 'Draco, did you even read the file? Don't you know about the Singaporean Ministry?'

'As a matter of fact…' Draco's voice trailed off. Hermione looked exasperated.

'It's on Bakelar Street.' she told him. 'Just behind the Muggle parliamentary,'

'Ah,' Draco said, 'But how's it hidden?'

'Well,' Hermione said, rifling through the file and biting her lip, 'It says here that you have to enter an old library, and find the Book of Ancient Curses.'

'And that will help us how?' Draco said, trying carefully to remove the sarcasm from his voice.

Hermione shrugged. 'I wouldn't know. Oh, Mr. Schedwinker,' she said politely, to the manager who had just stepped up. 'Where is our taxi?'

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'Bakelar Street,' a voice grunted.

Hermione jerked up. She had been deep in thought the whole way in the taxi. She had been thinking of things that she and Draco had never talked about, and how these were somehow restricted from all their conversations. No matter how immersed she was in her job, they always remained at the back of her mind.

'Where had he been all these months?

She knew she couldn't ask.

Now, she was jerked from her revelry by their cabbies hoarse voice.

This is Bakelar Street, then?' she asked, looking around. It was in dilapidated condition.

'Aye,' the cabbie affirmed. 'Where did ya say you wan'ed to go?'

'The old library,' Draco said, clearly.

'Just arn'd the bend, that,' the cabbie said, pointing. 'You go alon' around that gray buildin' there, and it's just roun' the bend. Can't miss it. Dirty green buildin'. Green, I ask you.'

'I think green's a perfectly wonderful color,' Draco said, coldly. 'Thank you very much. How much do we owe you?'

'Three dollars,' The cabbie grunted, scratching his chin. 'Wasn't too far.'

Draco looked lost.

'I'll take care of that.' Hermione said, snatching the bunch of notes in his hand. she counted off three dollars and handed it to the cabbie who left.

'We go around the gray building,' she muttered. 'Come on, Draco.'

They quickly walked down the shabby street, and took a turn near the drab building that their cabbie had pointed out. About a hundred feet ahead they saw a two story tall building, that seemed to be made of green bricks. It had brown shutters, and a large red front door.

'Okay, that's the building,' Hermione said, breathlessly. 'Come on.'

They strode up to the building. Draco quietly pushed the door open, and they stepped inside.

Hermione saw at once that they had entered some sort of foyer. It was a very small room, without any doors. There was a hat stand in one end, and a round fluffy red carpet on the floor. A winding staircase led up from it.

'well, I guess we go up,' Draco said, hesitatingly. He and Hermione quickly mounted the stairs, and found themselves in a much, much larger room. This one seemed to extend into corners that were shrouded in darkness. It was lined with many book shelves, stacked with thousands of books of all shapes and sizes. To one corner, there was an ancient desk, with a red haired lady sitting at it. With some distaste, Draco noticed the way her moth-eaten dress clung to her skimpy body and her wrinkled face looked a thousand times sharper with a pair of winged glasses perched on the very tip of her nose. As they approached, she appraised them with brilliantly green eyes.

'Good morning,' Hermione said, 'We're looking for the Book of Ancient Curses.'

She nodded. 'Your name?'

'Hermione Malfoy.'

'Of course. Appointment with Wilder Jenkins, I have it written down. The books on that shelf- the big red one. Tap the front page with your wand and say Revelo.'

'Thanks,' Hermione said.

They quickly strode across to the shelf that the lady had pointed out, and found the large red book, with the words "Book of Ancient Curses" embossed on its glossy cover. Hermione carefully pulled it down from its shelf, and flipped to the front page.

'You do the honors,' she said, glancing up at Draco. He took out his wand, and tapped the front page, which was a short introduction to curses.

'Revelo,' he said, clearly.

Immediately, the book's page seemed to deform and mutate. It glazed over, and the words started running into each other, till they formed a lake of blackness in the middle of the parchment. Slowly, this disappeared, and a hint of silver seemed to creep across the surface of the page, until they were looking at a small mirror. Draco leaned down.

'It's not a mirror,' he muttered. 'It's- glass, I think. I can see a room down there. Fireplace.'

Hermione bent her head. 'Reminds me a bit of the Atrium,' she murmured. 'But-.'

'Go ahead then!' The woman said, loudly from behind them. They turned, and she smiled encouragingly at them. 'Just jump in, you'll be there in no time at all.'

'Um… jump in?' Hermione asked, hesitantly.

The librarian smiled and nodded. 'Lean forward and push your face into the page. You'll enter like that. Go ahead, then, it's easy!'

'Oh…sure,' she said, apprehensively. 'I'll just- Draco, can you hold my wand?'

'Sure,' he said, taking it. He held the book out for her, and Hermione nervously leaned forward. As her eye came closer to the silvery page, she began to see details of the room inside- a shiny brown floor, and a large fireplace, with roaring flames. All of a sudden, the tip of her nose touched the page.

Immediately, her feet left the ground, and she was thrown into the page. She seemed to be whirling past a black sky and many, many starts, but before she could even start wondering whether she should count them, a blue light blinded her, her feet hit the ground with a jarring sensation, and the room around her slid into focus.

She was in a very small room, which had a floor made of glistening oak panels, and walls painted a soft beige color. In front of her was a beautiful gilded fireplace, with golden edging, inside which a fire was roaring. Behind her was what looked like a glass pyramid, which was reflecting so much of the soft firelight she could see what was inside.

All of a sudden, the form of the pyramid seemed to shimmer a little, and a dark shaped appeared inside. Immediately, the whole pyramid was filled with blue light, and the next minute, Draco stumbled out.

'Woah,' he said, dazedly.

She gave him a minute to take in his surroundings, and then asked, 'What do you think the blue was?'

'Security, I suppose. I dunno. Here's your wand, by the way.'

He handed it to her, and she gently pocketed it.

'Where do we go from here?' Draco asked, his voice thickening. 'I'm feeling slightly claustrophobic.'

'I didn't know you were claustrophobic.' Hermione said, looking surprised.

'One of the main reasons I never made out with anyone in a broom closet. Is that floo?'

'Yep,' Hermione said, glancing at the little silver pot balanced on the mantelpiece. She picked up a fistful, and threw it into the fire.

'Office of Wilder Jenkins.' she said, clearly.

The fire roared up, a startling emerald green. Hermione cast Draco an apprehensive look, and stepped inside.

Immediately, she was thrown into motion, and a million fireplaces swiveled in front of her. She noticed that most of them didn't seem to have fires, and at the same time that there was a significant lack of soot in her own Floo journey. Suddenly, it struck her that in this part of the world, fires weren't commonly used, and she felt a small prickle of fear, wondering if she would be able to get out the other side. Just as the prickle developed into full-fledged panic, however, her feet hit the ground, and she stumbled out of a particularly big fireplace, with a neat array of logs but no fire.

She was perfectly clean.

After quickly sweeping a stray strand of hair into place, she turned and surveyed the room she had stepped into. It was a spacious office, with a warm brown carpeting. Above the fireplace there were a few pictures of a wizarding families, presumably Wilder Jenkin's, and a little vase with small blue violets. There was a desk in front of her, and a man was sitting with his back to her. All Hermione could see of him was a baldish head, with a little rim of rusty-gray hair, and a large brown trench coat.

In a few seconds, Draco had also landed beside her. He quickly appraised the office, looked at her, and then over at the man on the desk.

'Excuse me?' he said, tentatively.

Immediately, the man startled and jumped around, and Hermione saw the rest of his face. It was a round, kindly face, with small gray eyes, plenty of laugh lines, and a wide smiling mouth, that now looked slightly startled. a pair of round glasses perched on his nose.

'Good heavens, I didn't hear you come,' he said, in a flustered but kindly way. Hermione found herself wondering exactly why the Resistance wanted to recruit him- he seemed kindly, but stupid.

'Do come in, do come in, I assume you are Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy?'

'Yes sir,' Hermione said, tentatively.

'Come in, thank you, yes, do have a seat-.' he gestured towards the easy chairs on either end of the desk. 'Anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?'

They took a seat, but politely declined. Hermione adjusted the briefcase of her knee.

Wilder Jenkins settled down on his chair, and swept a sheaf of parchment off the surface of the desk.

'Must thinking about sorting it out sometime,' he muttered, to himself. Then, he looked up at Hermione and Draco, and smiled kindly.

'My secretary told me you booked an appointment from a Muggle hotel?'

'Yes Mr. Jenkins,' Draco said, in a deep, official voice. 'We're from the English Ministry of Magic, and-.'

'English Ministry!' a small frown creased his as-it-is wrinkled forehead. 'Good heavens, they are blundering fools! Why Fudge was a pompous ass, and Scrimgoeur isn't the ideal minister either- no feeling, I tell you, a man of stone.'

'Um- yes,' Draco said, looking startled, ad exchanging a look with his wife. Wilder Jenkins noticed that.

'Good heavens pardon me,' he said, blearily. 'I'm not generalizing, of course…but honestly, the number of blockheads who've been flitting in and out- but, please continue, don't let me hold you up.'

'Er,' Hermione said, 'Actually, our visit has something to do about a large problem everybody in the wizarding world- and many Muggles at that- are facing.'

Wilder Jenkin's eyes widened. 'My dear child…' he said, breathlessly. 'That can only mean the Roftang Conspiracy…'

Something about the words stirred in Hermione's memory.

'The Rof- what?'

'Roftang Conspiracy, of course! It's a conspiracy that the Aurors are generating- it's been going on for years!'

Suddenly, Hermione remembered, and she grinned. she had a feeling Luna Lovegood would get along very well with this man.

'Okay…' Draco was looked bewildered. Hermione quickly blundered on.

'Actually, Mr. Jenkins, I was talking about Voldemort,' she said clearly.

She had wondered how Wilder Jenkins would accept the word- and she was impressed. He merely snorted.

'Oh,' he said, 'Him. Horrible man, I think. Not stupid, I'll admit, but just not my type of guy.'

'He's a murderer,' Draco said, coldly.

Again, Wilder Jenkins looked surprised.

'I suppose you take this very seriously, and all? Well, I suppose I should to, but you know, in South East Asia…there's very little chance…but it's wise to remain vigilant, I suppose…'

'Exactly,' Hermione said. 'And that's what we've come to talk about.'

'So you said,' Wilder Jenkins murmured.

Her next question was brick hard.

'I assume you have heard about the Resistance?'

His reply did not come immediately. A small glimpse of unclarity appeared in his eyes.

'Well, I can't deny…' he shifted, uneasily.

'The thing is,' Draco said, taking charge. 'As much as we believe that what the Resistance is doing is very noble-.'

Wilder looked up again and nodded. 'Very noble, indeed, I thoroughly approve.'

'Yes,' Draco said, 'But we feel they may be potentially dangerous to our relations with your country.'

Wilder's eyes popped out. 'Nonsense! Made up of good stuff they are! Harry Potter- a thoroughly remarkable boy, I say!'

'We want to have them abolished.'

'You shouldn't want anything of the sort, it's criminal. A wonderful bunch, that Resistance.'

'Mr. Jenkins, they are teetering on the edge of dying out as it is,' Hermione said, sharply and untruthfully. 'We want to wipe them out before they cause any more harm.'

'They're dying out?' Wilder's eyes widened. 'It can't be!'

'well, it is.'

'Well, you simply must do something about it, of course. Help them out!'

'They need new blood,' Hermione said, coolly. 'And they aren't getting it.'

'Well, most people are afraid, aren't they?' Draco said. 'The Resistance is facing a lot of these problems. Their people are becoming insufficient, and they need help.'

Suddenly, Wilder's eyes narrowed.

'Wait a minute,' he said, sharply. 'How do you know all this?'

Hermione and Draco glanced at each other.

'You know too much. You're one of them, aren't you?'

Hermione sighed.

'You aren't as foolish as we thought, Mr. Jenkins. May we be completely open with you.'

He was still regarding her suspiciously. 'I don't understand, but I think it would be best if you leave-.'

Draco put an end to his sentence. He got up, crossed the room to where a large, mahogany door was, and locked it. Then, he waved his wand towards the fireplace.

'Unetro!' he said, calmly. There was no noticeable change, but Jenkins paled visibly.

Draco turned back to him.

'You're familiar with the spell?' he asked, cocking an eyebrow. 'I can assure you that nobody will be able to enter your room till floo until I remove the spell. Now what I suggest, Mr. Jenkins, is this. I and my partner, who by the way is also my wife, are going to talk to you. Openly. Rudely, if need be. You will listen to us. If you approve, your life is going to change in ways you will never expect. If you don't, we are going to Obliviate your memory and leave. If you try to call for help, or harm us in anyway, we will stun you and leave. So I suggest you hand over your wand right now.'

A heavy silence followed these words. Hermione bit her lip. This was not how she had expected things to turn out. Both fixed their gaze on Wilder Jenkins.

The man was watching Draco thoughtfully, one finger stroking his fat chin. Then, finally, his face broke into a smile.

'Don't believe in beating around the bush, huh?' he asked, genially. 'I like you. The wand…'

And he tipped his wand into their hands.

Hermione and Draco faced Wilder Jenkins, unable to believe he would part so readily with his wand. He grinned at them said, said, 'Shoot.'