"What happened?" she thought aloud, puzzled. Why hadn't the gateway opened for them? It always had before, except when Dobby had tried to prevent Harry from returning to Hogwarts that one year...She shook her head.
"I don't know, Granger, you're supposed to be the brilliant one."
"Shut it, Malfoy." She resumed staring at the tickets in her hands.
"I'll call Father. He'll get us to Hogwarts," Malfoy decided suddenly.
Hermione turned to look at him, bemused. "'Us'?"
"Well, obviously Dumbledore wouldn't be very happy if I just left you here, now would he?" Draco scoffed, as if such a thing was so obvious that a toddler would understand.
"Ah. Well, hurry it up, then," Hermione said irritably.
"Or what?" He smirked. "We'll get suspended? God, Granger, you're such a prude." He took out his wand—it had been Charmed to look like a pencil—and dangled it in front of her face.
"I am not a prude, Malfoy."
"Oh, you're not?" He leaned in closer. "I'd say you have to pay for this ride. Say...a kiss?"
Hermione's hand was halfway to his smirking face when her wrist was caught in an iron grip. She stared at him, face flushed and eyes wide. "Don't, Granger," he said warningly, rain-silver eyes cold. He let her hand drop, then laughed. "Who would want to kiss a filthy little Mudblood like you, anyway?"
"You—you—" Hermione sputtered, furious.
Malfoy ignored her and picked up his wand/pencil. He muttered something that ended with "Lucius Malfoy", then waited. Although she was still angry, Hermione wanted to watch this. She had heard of wizards being able to "call" one another as if by telephone, but had never seen it.
Nothing happened.
Draco stared at his wand. What the bloody- He cursed aloud, earning a sniff from Granger—did the girl ever shut up?—and shook the wand. He muttered again, more commandingly this time. Still nothing.
"Oh, let me try," Hermione said impatiently, taking out her wand. She pushed his hand away. "Don't worry, no one can see," she snapped. "Now, what was that spell again?"
Her wand didn't work, either. "That's very odd," she said thoughtfully, looking at the tip. "Here, let's try something a little easier...ah, this should work."
Pointing her wand underneath the bench, where it was darker, she muttered, "Lumos!"
Absolutely nothing.
Hermione looked up at Malfoy. "What's going on?"
His brow was furrowed. "I don't know!" he said, his voice pitched slightly higher than usual. "But we can't contact my father, I know that."
"Well, what are we going to do?"
Malfoy looked as if he were having some kind of internal struggle. "I suppose," he said tightly, grudgingly, "we could contact your mum and dad."
"Can't. They're on holiday in Queensland."
"Bloody hell."
"Malfoy!"
"Oh, shut it, Granger." He lapsed back into gloomy silence, staring straight ahead. Suddenly something seemed to click in his head, and he shot straight up. "I know!" he said. Without even glancing at her, he broke into a run.
"What? What is it?" Hermione cried, grabbing her bags and racing to catch up with him. "Where are we going?" she gasped out as the bag thudded against her legs with every step.
"Diagon Alley. If we can't get in there, then..." He didn't need to say any more.
They reached the familiar dead end. Malfoy reached up and tapped the stones. Nothing. He tapped harder. "That's right, isn't it?" Hermione nodded and tried it herself.
The stones refused to budge.
Draco swore and leaned against the wall, still breathless from his run. Great. Just great. He was trapped in the Muggle world with the one girl he despised most. Why couldn't it have been Blaise? Even Pansy was preferable to this know-it-all, overly talkative Mudblood.
She was saying something to him. He glanced down at her, annoyed. Granger frowned, the bruise over her left eye beginning to darken, and her hair was tangled from their run and the dust from her mad search for her ticket. He couldn't be seen with this...Muggle. Wait, Draco. Everyone here is a Muggle. You have no choice.
"I said, Malfoy, that we need to work together. I don't like you, and you don't like me, but we don't really have a choice if we're going to get back to Hogwarts. Understand?"
"I'm not stupid, Mudblood."
Hermione's eyes flashed, and for a second she clamped her mouth shut, looking disturbingly like McGonagall. Then something seemed to change in her gaze, and she smiled. Draco suddenly remembered how intelligent Granger really was.
All she said, however, was, "If we're going to work together, never call me Mudblood again. Is that clear, Draco?" She spat the name out. Draco glowered at her. "I don't need this, and I certainly don't need you," he hissed, and turned to walk off.
"Yes, you do," came her voice behind him. "Face it, Malfoy, you're helpless in this world, without your wand and your oh-so-powerful father. You realize, don't you, that our powers are gone? You can't contact him. I can't contact my parents. We're stuck until Dumbledore finds a way to get to us. And I'm the only one who knows how to get around here."
Draco wanted to hit her, but he held in his anger. She was right. His shoulders slumped—almost. He wouldn't admit defeat to a Mudblood. "Fine. Name your terms."
"You call me Hermione."
"Fine. Anything else?"
They stood glaring at each other, arms crossed. "You do what I say." She said it so matter-of-factly, so sure that he would agree, that Draco instantly bristled.
"And if I don't?" he demanded.
"Why wouldn't you? Unlike Slytherins, I don't want to hurt you." Hermione looked genuinely surprised. "I told you, you don't know what you're doing out here."
He relented. "Fine, fine." Then a malicious look spread over his face. "But Father is going to hear about this when we get back.
Hermione shrugged. "If you say so. Now, do you have any Muggle money?"
She burst out laughing at the look on his arrogantly handsome face.
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