AN: Again, this story has no beta. All errors are mine and mine alone. Enjoy!
SURPRISE, SURPRISE.
SEPTEMBER 19, 1997.
Ginny bounded down the stairs two steps at a time while hugging a large carton box to her chest tightly. She paused by the bottom landing to catch her breath for a moment before sprinting again to the parlor room where her three other companions were waiting.
"Look what I found!" she announced excitedly, dumping the box beside Harry who was busy glaring at Malfoy. Ginny flipped it open and pulled out a paddy cap and a fake mustache.
"Where did you get that?" Hermione asked as she peered inside the box. "Those were a bunch of old Halloween costumes."
Ginny plucked a strange-looking hat and set it down aside. "In the attic… I think."
"You went up in the attic?" Hermione said with a frown. "You shouldn't be overexerting yourself, Gin."
Ginny sighed. This healing business was really exasperating her. "I'm absolutely alright, Hermione! The fever already broke last night and now I feel fine as a Puffskein!"
"Still, you shouldn't push yourself until you're completely healed."
"C'mon, Hermione. Live a little. I'm stuck here with grumpy Harry while you and ex-blondie there are doing all the fun," she stuck her bottom lip out, trying to look pitiable. Ginny held back a snicker when she noticed Malfoy's affronted look at being called 'ex-blondie'.
"We're going to Diagon Alley, Gin. I don't think that counts as fun," Hermione rolled her eyes. "In fact, it's the exact opposite."
"But at least you're doing something," Ginny grumbled.
"If you really wanted to do something, there are books—"
Hermione was cut off when Ginny let out an exaggerated moan. "But you guys already went through those books days ago. What makes you think I'll find anything new?"
"A new perspective usually helps when others are stuck," it was Malfoy who answered this time.
Ginny had mostly been in and out of consciousness since she badly splinched herself that day they escaped from the Ministry and she barely had any interaction with Ferret's father hence the reason why she still referred to him as 'Malfoy' rather than calling him by his first name like Harry and Hermione now did. Although it was fun creating a variety of nicknames for the aristocrat wizard.
"As if I could," Ginny rolled her eyes, her hand coming up to touch the locket dangling on her chest. Despite her friends—even Malfoy's—protests, Ginny insisted on wearing the locket, claiming that between the three of them, she was the one more capable of keeping herself in check since she had a first-hand experience with Horcruxes. Right now, she could feel it. Could feel the dark emotions the locket was trying to envelop her into but she was having none of it. She would never fall for the same trick twice. Ginny pushed the unpleasant thoughts in the back of her mind and turned to Hermione. "If we're researching about Quidditch or Transfiguration, sure I could probably think of something, but these are Horcruxes we're talking about!"
Hermione sighed, having given up on arguing with her friend. "There are Muggle board games up in the attic where you got that box. But let Harry get it for you, please?"
"Alright," Ginny smirked. "But on one condition."
Hermione and Malfoy both raised their eyebrows in question and Ginny was momentarily taken aback by how their movements synchronized. She glanced at Harry, checking if he noticed it too but he was still busy boring a hole on Malfoy's forehead. What is the matter with him?
"We don't have all day," ex-blondie drawled, making Ginny's gaze snapped back at him.
She pushed the box of costumes in their direction, taking the paddy cap and fake mustache to Malfoy while giving the strange-looking hat to Hermione. "I want you to wear this on your trip to Diagon Alley."
"But this is a soldier's hat," Hermione protested. "I'll stand out if I wear this."
"Muggle soldiers wear that?" it was Malfoy who asked. Ginny turned to him and immediately burst out laughing. He was wearing the paddy cap and fake mustache although the latter was stuck in an odd angle, making it quite obvious it was a fake. Beside her, she heard Hermione groan.
"Your mustache is crooked," she muttered before reaching out to fix it. "There."
"Wow," Ginny exclaimed after the hilarity eventually wore off. "You're really unrecognizable now."
Stripped of everything that made him who he was, Lucius Malfoy looked like a completely different person. He looked more human and grounded—a far cry from the intimidating figure he typically seemed to exude. Ginny wondered if her mother would recognize her as well, with her short dark hair and Muggle clothes, if she ever passed her by on a crowded street.
"That is the point, is it not?" Malfoy quipped, his chin held high before heading to the door. "I will wait by the entrance."
"Do I really have to wear this?" Hermione asked as soon as Malfoy was out of sight.
"Well," Ginny pursed her lips. It would really look odd if Hermione wore that silly round hat. Rummaging again through the box, she found a pair of blood-red, heart-shaped sunglasses. "How about this?"
"Really, Gin?" asked Hermione, looking a little annoyed but Ginny could see the corners of her lips twitching in amusement.
"What? It looks cute on you."
Hermione begrudgingly wore the sunglasses. "I have to show you the film so you'll understand the irony of it. Come to think of it, there's another adaptation about it coming up this year."
"A what now?" Ginny asked, confused.
"I'll tell you about it later when we get back," Hermione said before flicking her gaze to Harry who was watching the interaction silently. "Actually, Harry here can tell you. He's seen a few of it himself."
Ginny looked at Harry who shrugged at her nonchalantly before addressing Hermione. "I don't know what the bloody hell you're talking about, Hermione."
"You haven't seen Lolita?" Harry shook his head no. Ginny watched as Hermione pursed her lips in thought. "My parents have a few VHS tapes in the library although I don't think the VHS player is still working."
"I'll give it a try," Harry said. "It's a good way to pass the time without having Ginny tire herself."
"Sure, talk like I'm not even here," Ginny mumbled. "I don't even understand a thing you two are saying."
"Harry will show you. I'm sure you'll love it," Hermione chuckled. "I have to go. We'll be back before supper," she then added as an afterthought. "I hope."
"Hermione," Harry called. "Be careful out there. Use the DA coins if something happened."
Ginny stood and gave her friend a tight hug. "Thank you, Hermione. For everything," she whispered. She felt Hermione squeeze her a little tighter at that before letting go.
Ginny stared at the spot where Hermione disappeared and waited until she heard the door to the entrance hall shut before turning back to Harry.
"How long do you think they'll be gone?"
"Could be an hour," Harry said. "Or probably more."
"Is that enough?"
"I think so."
Ginny sighed and sat on the nearest chair. "I can't believe Hermione forgot her own birthday. It's not every day one turns eighteen."
"True," Harry sat beside her. "She often does that though so I'm not entirely surprised. The months before the OWLS was the worst. She keeps forgetting to eat so Ron and I had to practically drag her to the Great Hall."
"That's our Hermione alright," Ginny chuckled. She remembered those nights Hermione would sneak to the common room when everyone was in bed. It had been the worst year, in Ginny's opinion. Not because of the looming exams for her friends, and not because Harry and Cho became an item, but because it was the year Umbridge took over the school. It was also the year Ginny's father was nearly killed by Nagini and the year Sirius was killed right in front of them. It was the very first time she saw Death claimed a life and the aftermath of it was hard on everyone. When the following school year came, Ginny nearly sobbed when she can now see the Thestrals that were pulling the carriage. She deeply regretted her wish to see those horrible-looking creatures, now knowing what it would entail.
Silence stretched before them, both were lost in the echo of their thoughts. Ginny watched the play of light as the curtains billowed until she grew bored. "We should get going," she said, breaking the comfortable silence, but made no move to stand.
Harry shifted in his seat and turned to face her, his index finger pointed in the direction of the locket. "Are you sure you're fine wearing that?"
Ginny nodded. "I'll be fine, Harry. I can feel it, you know, but it doesn't really affect me that much. It just feels a little uncomfortable sort of like wearing a pair of wet socks the entire day."
"That doesn't sound so bad," Harry gave her a small smile before turning serious. "For me, it's like… it's the same feeling I got when I… when I saw Sirius die. I feel… very angry, and… heavy."
"I guess dark magic affects us differently," Ginny mused. "I wonder how Hermione felt when she wore it last night."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry looked away.
"That bad?" she asked.
"It's not really my place to say," he bit his lower lip before looking up at Ginny again. She could clearly see the guilt and sadness swimming in his murky green orbs.
"That's why we need to do this," she mumbled then gave Harry a rueful smile. "And I've always wanted to go to a Muggle town. I wonder if it will be as good as Dad described it to be."
"Don't get your hopes up," Harry stood and held his hand out to her. Ginny gladly slipped hers in his, already enjoying the way the sensation of their skin touching sent a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest. They'll get through this war together and once this was over, she'll have all the opportunity to hold his hand as many times as she wanted without the threat of pain and death towering above them.
The sounds of pedestrians outside the alley drowned out the loud crack of Hermione's apparition. Once the dizziness that accompanied it wore off, she let go of her right hand that clung to Lucius' coat. It seemed that she was getting better at doing side-long apparitions.
"Where are we?" the wizard beside her asked.
"We're still at Charing Cross Road. Don't worry," she assured him. "I just need to drop by the bank first."
"Why?"
"I'm going to exchange some pounds to galleons. It won't take long," Hermione answered. "I don't really fancy going to Gringotts right now."
Lucius looked at her. "Gringotts is a neutral place—or as neutral as it can be."
"I know but I'm a person of interest," Hermione argued. "The goblins probably have closed my vault there."
"The goblins working there are not subjected or held liable by Wizarding law hence the reason why vaults are not seized when an owner is declared a wanted criminal as long as that criminal abides by the rules of the bank." Lucius countered. "Take the Lestrange vault for example. The Lestrange family are widely known Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban for life but the contents of their vault remain untouched while they served their time whereas the Ministry could have confiscated it if they have any power over the goblin owned bank. If Gringotts easily surrender the vaults to the Ministry they would lose the confidence of other wizards that their money would be available to them at any time."
Hermione wanted to say that he too had been sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban but decided to hold her tongue. She didn't want to start a fight with him in the middle of a busy street. Still, Lucius made a lot of sense and it explained how Sirius was able to buy Harry that firebolt broomstick even though he was on the run.
"But I understand your wariness," Lucius continued. "These are different times and it is better to err on the side of caution. We do not know who controls the bank these days or who is loyal to whom. And goblins are fickle and wicked creatures."
They were in a narrow pathway in the middle of Irving Street, tucked between two Italian restaurants. Hermione had eaten here in the past, right before she and her parents met with Professor McGonagall where the latter accompanied them on their first trip to the wizarding district in London.
Hermione looked around their surroundings, making sure that they weren't noticed before heading off and joining the afternoon mass of people. She felt Lucius' presence behind her, quietly following her lead. Hermione noticed a few curious glances thrown in her way and it was when she caught her reflection in one of the shop's tall windows that she realized that she was wearing the red, heart-shaped sunglasses Ginny insisted on her wearing. She quickly pulled it off and tucked it in her beaded bag, while making a mental note to wear it again when they return. What she doesn't know won't hurt her.
"You're supposed to wear that throughout our excursion to Diagon Alley," Lucius whispered near her ear. "What would Ginevra feel about you breaking your promise?"
"Easy for you to say," she answered without looking back at him. "You don't have people looking at you like you're not right in the head."
"You can always cast a Notice-Me-Not charm."
"Not worth the effort," she muttered although she knew he heard her clearly. They walked a few minutes more before stopping in front of Barclays Bank.
"Is it a magical bank like Gringotts?" he eventually asked.
Hermione shook her head. "It's a Muggle bank although they know about our existence," she said and it felt weird saying the word 'our' in relation to her and the older Pureblood beside her. "I found out during my second year that this is where the goblins exchange the Muggle money they receive from their Muggleborn clients whenever they would exchange a few pounds to galleons."
"What does the bank get in return?"
"Galleons, of course," she said matter-of-factly. "Galleons are made of pure gold and to be honest, I don't think the goblins are aware of how much value gold has in the Muggle world. If they knew, they wouldn't be willing to exchange it with that kind of rate."
Hermione looked up and sure enough, Lucius was staring blankly ahead. She knew that the gears in his mind were already working, thinking about how to make that information benefit him greatly. It was one of the things she grudgingly admired about him. He was the kind of person who never let an opportunity go to waste but would think things thoroughly first before jumping in. Arthur once mentioned that the Malfoys didn't have to work at all, that their vast fortune would probably secure twenty future generations of Malfoys (Witch Weekly even declared them the fourth richest family in the entire continent), but Lucius, unlike his predecessors, had actually started making investments and bought stocks and shares from businesses since his father passed away. All of those investments were from magical people though and Hermione shuddered to think how much wealthier he could get if he actually ventured into the Muggle world.
Still, since he started putting his galleons out, from what she had heard from the others, the Malfoys' fortune doubled and continued growing to this day even if the head of the family was on the run with her. He probably had a handful of solicitors at his disposal and people handling the day-to-day operations of each business.
"Do you want to wait here or do you want to come in with me inside?" she asked.
Lucius blinked a few times before answering her. "I'll come with you."
The line was mercifully short and in less than ten minutes, it was their turn to be called. One of the tellers put up their hands, indicating that they were ready for the next client. Hermione walked over the counter with Lucius in tow.
"I'd like to make an exchange," she said to the teller, giving it a faint smile. "Pounds to galleons."
The teller looked at her and Lucius critically before nodding. "If you would follow me to room number three please."
They were led to the left hallway, a room to their right was labeled number one while the number two sign was stuck on the left. The teller eventually stopped at the mentioned door and ushered the two of them rather impatiently.
"Someone will be here to assist you shortly," the teller gave them a wary, fake smile before turning in her heels, leaving the two of them gaping at her abrupt departure.
"That was rude," Lucius said out loud and probably loud enough for the teller's retreating form to hear. "Is that how Muggles treat their clients?"
Hermione sighed. "If you got us kicked out of here, I swear to Merlin that fake mustache is going to be a permanent fixture in your face."
Lucius grinned at her and stroked the said faux facial hair repeatedly. "I don't mind. The look is starting to grow on me."
She rolled her eyes and turned to observe the room, ignoring the chuckling wizard behind her.
Room number three was pleasant even if it didn't have any windows. Hermione supposed that was for their client's privacy and security. True to their word, a smartly dressed man in his mid-thirties entered the room and greeted Hermione by name even though she had never mentioned it.
The man, who introduced himself as Allen Sayers, mentioned that her parents were one of their frequent clients for years now and he had recognized Hermione because her parents brought her here numerous times since she was young.
Lucius remarked that he was more pleasant than the girl by the counter, earning him a glare from Hermione but the man in the three-piece suit just laughed.
"My apologies about that. Not every employee working here is aware of your world. The tellers were merely instructed that if someone asked to exchange some money to galleons, to immediately direct them to room number three. You have to understand that these kinds of transactions are conducted away from the prying eyes. It would be suspicious if one of our tellers suddenly hands out a pouch of gold coins."
"That's fine. No one is really complaining here," she shot Lucius a quelling look.
"Now that is out of the way, would you and your companion like a drink before we get started?" Mr. Sayers turned to Lucius. "I assume you're a wizard as well Mister…"
"Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy," Lucius held out his hand and Mr. Sayers took it, shaking it firmly.
"A pleasure meeting you Mr. Malfoy."
Mr. Sayers then pressed a button on the edge of the side table and a few seconds later, a younger man came in carrying a tray of drinks and a manila envelope. After the glasses of seltzer were settled, the young man left without a word.
"I just need you to fill up this form, Miss Granger," Mr. Sayers handed out the contents of the envelope to her. "Will you be taking from the trust fund your parents had set up or from your personal account?"
"My personal," she answered as she filled up the forms. "I was told that I would only be able to access the trust fund after I graduated from Hogwarts."
"That's the magical school here, isn't it? Hogwarts?"
Hermione nodded. "How come you know so much about it?"
"My wife, Nina. She's a witch too although she graduated from Beauxbatons. She used to work as a curse breaker for the goblins. That's why my boss chose me to handle all of the transactions with the goblins and you magical people."
"Then you know what is happening here now?" It was Lucius who asked this time.
"All I know is that something bad is going on in your world," Mr. Sayers said. "Nina wanted us to leave for France. She tells me it's not safe here right now but I just can't leave my job like that."
Hermione involuntarily glanced at Lucius and was nearly startled when she saw that he was looking at her as well. He was probably thinking along the same lines as her. Mr. Sayer's family could be spared the horror of being brought into interrogation if they are carrying French citizenship but if not, it was only a matter of time before they were dragged to the Ministry of Magic for questioning. Hermione suppressed a shudder at the memory of those innocent people imprisoned in their holding cells and could only hope that all of them made it out safely.
"Maybe it's best if you stayed in France for now," she said carefully. "Things are getting worse here. It's only a matter of time before Muggles get involved in the mix."
Mr. Sayers' shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'll… I'll talk to my wife about it."
Hermione didn't press further and only gave back the now filled-out forms to the Muggle in front of her. Mr. Sayers gave it a once over and told Hermione that he'll be back with her galleons.
"He will be fine," Lucius said. "The Dark Lord does not have enough forces yet to start the second phase of his plans. The International Tribunal would certainly step in once the Muggle killings escalated. He would need to secure an alliance with the other countries first."
She glared at him. "That doesn't make me feel any better."
"I am not trying to make you feel better. I am merely stating facts," he leveled his eyes with her. "Allen Sayers does not need to move to France yet…"
"I'm sensing a 'but' there."
Lucius sighed. "But I agree with you. It is getting quite dangerous here. Even for Muggles."
The door opened then and Mr. Sayers returned carrying a black pouch full of galleons. They gave the coins a quick count to make sure it was the right amount before signing her name on the bottom of the papers. Both parties thanked each other for a smooth and fast transaction and as she was about to step out the door, Mr. Sayers called her name.
"Happy birthday, Miss Granger," he gave her a warm smile and a wave. Hermione blinked twice in surprise before thanking him.
Ginny and Harry made their way back from the bakeshop. Although their only agenda was to buy a cake for Hermione, it still took them over an hour because Ginny insisted on seeing the rest of the Muggle town. Harry didn't really have the heart to turn her down and he needed the fresh air as well. Even though Hermione's home was large enough to house the entire Gryffindors, it was still maddening to be cooped up inside doing absolutely nothing but survive.
"I wonder how they're doing," Ginny said as she placed the cake on the kitchen counter. Harry flicked his wand and placed a stasis charm to prevent the icing from melting and the sponge from going stale.
"They're probably arguing all the way to Diagon Alley," Harry joked, his mood felt a thousand times lighter than it was yesterday.
Ginny leaned on the kitchen counter and regarded Harry. "Have you noticed how Malfoy acted last night?"
"Like a complete arse?"
"If I'm not mistaken, you're the one acting like a complete arse," Ginny shoot him a glare and Harry immediately felt chastened. "Oh, don't give me that look, Harry. It's true. What I'm trying to ask is have you noticed how Malfoy looked so defensive for Hermione last night?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. Maybe it was the fever talking but I just noticed how he was ready to stand in between you and Hermione even though you had threatened to harm him with your wand. Like he was really on the verge of pouncing on you had I not intervened."
Ginny shrugged and then proceeded to scrape off a speck of imaginary dirt on her nails.
Now that Harry was not under the effects of the Horcrux, he tried to remember the events that happened last night. He winced when he recalled yelling at Hermione and he even felt worse when he realized how consumed he was that he even wanted to hurt her further by telling her how useless she was.
Then he remembered how Lucius stepped closer to Hermione and told Harry to take off the locket. At that time, he had been consumed with rage to notice anything beyond what he was feeling. And thinking about it now, Ginny was probably right. There was something in Lucius' stance that seemed protective and the way he glanced worriedly at Hermione…
Harry shook his head. He and Ginny were probably trying to read more than what was already there. Lucius was most likely just as tense as everyone else and was only trying to diffuse a situation.
But why should he?
Internal conflict within the group would definitely work in his favor. It was his chance to convince one of them to betray the others for his benefit. But that wasn't what happened, was it?
"Like I said, maybe it's just the fever talking," Ginny interrupted his thoughts.
"Maybe," Harry murmured. It was no use dwelling on things he couldn't reconcile. What mattered was his and Hermione's relationship wasn't completely fractured beyond repair.
"Do you want to go check those VHS tapes Hermione mentioned?" he asked Ginny.
"Sure," she shrugged. "Even though I have no idea what those are."
"You'll love it," Harry said as he led her to the library.
The walk from Barclays to Diagon Alley was a quiet affair. Tom the barman only gave them a curt nod as they passed through the Leaky Cauldron and now they stood by the entrance again. Hermione had cast a few glamours on her face just to make sure she wasn't fully recognizable while Malfoy put on the black, horn-rimmed eyeglasses he wore when he came here with her before.
Hermione scanned the area but she couldn't see any obvious threats—not that she would. No one entirely knew where someone stood these days; any of these people could be reporting to the Death Eaters.
Diagon Alley stretched before them, looking quite different than it was a year ago. The neglected buildings and fearful shoppers scuttling from one shop to the next, keeping their heads down was what greeted them. There were also a lot of closed shops and a few dubiously legal stalls that had migrated from Knockturn Alley to the high street. Hermione nearly bumped into one that was clearly selling malevolent artifacts in the name of 'protection'. She steered clear of a particularly suspicious-looking amulet.
She swallowed the sour fear burbling from her throat and kept moving further into Diagon Alley, past Fortescue's boarded-up ice cream parlor and a rather dilapidated second-hand robes shop. The deeper they got, the more paranoid she became. It felt like everyone's eyes were following her.
She nearly screamed her lungs out when a hand gently clamped her left shoulder. "You need to calm down, Hermione."
"I am calm!" Hermione hissed. "I am calm!"
"You're in disguise, or did you forget?" Lucius said reasonably. "No one's going to recognize you."
"Right," she breathed. "Right. I'm in disguise. They can't recognize me."
Hermione repeated the words like a mantra under her breath as they reached the apothecary shop which was, unfortunately, all boarded up as well.
"Bloody fuck," she said, her voice coming out strangled. "We came all the way here all for nothing."
"Language," Lucius admonished her. "We did not come here for nothing. There is still a shop in Knockturn Alley."
"I am not going into Knockturn Alley!" she said feverishly. If Diagon Alley looked like this already, Hermione shuddered to think what had come of the most disreputable part of magical London. They needed to get out of here or they were going to get caught. Ginny was doing fine anyway. Maybe they didn't need the potions anymore. They could survive without it. Maybe—
She looked to her left and saw that Lucius was already ten feet away from her.
"Where are you going?!" Hermione demanded as she tried to keep up with Lucius' long strides, her shoe almost stumbling on loose cobblestones. When she finally caught up with him, she noticed that they were just outside the entrance to Knockturn Alley.
"I'm not going in there," she stomped her foot.
"Then don't," Lucius said mildly. "Give me the galleons."
Hermione stared at him defiantly. "Are you insane?"
"Look, the more we stand here, the more likely we will attract attention to ourselves," he reasoned. "We need those potions even if Ginevra is completely fine by now and there is another apothecary in Knockturn Alley which I am absolutely certain is still up and running despite the current climate."
"But it's dangerous there," she said quietly. It was when she realized that it was not just concern for her own safety she was anxious about but for him as well.
The night she and Harry fought, it really stunned her when Lucius came to her defense. Hermione wholly expected him to be the one who will instigate the fight but instead, he was the one who prevented her and Harry's friendship to fracture further. She felt so adrift after that and wearing the locket only made it worse. Before she knew it, she was having an anxiety attack in her father's study.
She still felt confused regarding her opinions about Lucius. The man still sure acted like a complete git and a snob but he had proven time and time again that he could be trusted. A large part of her wanted to but there was that voice screaming in the back of her mind, yelling at her not to trust him. That he was still Lucius Malfoy—pureblood supremacist and hater of all things Muggle—and he had done nothing to prove otherwise.
Hadn't he?
Hermione remembered his interactions with the Muggle cashier and Mr. Sayers. He spoke to them casually with no hint of disgust or derision in his words and actions. He even flirted with the Muggle woman manning the cashier. Either he must've been a great actor or his contempt for her heritage wasn't as deep as he thought.
If it was the former, then what brought it out? Was it simply due to his upbringing? Or were there more underlying factors that triggered it? Hermione refused to believe that a child was born intrinsically bigoted. It was taught, consciously & unconsciously. Same with misogyny and empathy. Those were the bad roots that grew bad adults.
When she was seven, her father brought her to their dental practice. There was a patient there, a girl with the same age as her that was scheduled for a root canal. Hermione watched as the girl slowly fell asleep, the anesthetics finally working their magic.
"Dad, would it be best if you just removed the tooth?" she asked.
"Tooth extraction isn't always the answer, butterball," Peter Granger looked up from the sedated girl to his daughter. "Do you throw your plates just because it's dirty?"
Hermione shook her head. "You clean it."
"That's right. It's the same with our teeth. We would try to remove the infection first," His father gave a big smile, pearly white teeth gleaming under the fluorescent. "If that didn't work then that's when we remove it. A tooth extraction should be the last resort."
Hermione wondered if it was too late for Lucius to change? Had the infection spread so far that the only way was to extract the tooth? A thought occurred to her. Could I change him? Her gaze snapped back to the subject of her thoughts. He was waiting for an answer and she grudgingly admitted that he was right. The more time they spent idling by, the more likely people will suspect them.
"I'll go with you," she said quietly then thought that he probably didn't hear her. She cleared her throat and said a little louder this time, with conviction. "We'll go together."
"Then you best stick beside me," he said in a serious tone. "Whatever happens, just follow my lead. Can you do that?"
"Of course, I can. I'm not stupid," she huffed as she followed him through Knockturn Alley. She pushed that persistent voice in the back of her mind that warned her about the dangers of following a Malfoy.
"No, you're not," he smirked then added. "But you're a Gryffindor."
Hermione couldn't refute that.
They stood outside a dilapidated-looking building, its windows boarded shut like the shops in Diagon Alley but the wooden planks used were weathered down by time. The windows were tinted with grime and dust and Hermione felt her heart shrank. It was closed too. Probably had been for a lot longer than the others.
"What a wasted effort," she sighed resignedly. At least she tried, right?
Hermione made a move to go back the way they came from but Lucius caught her wrist. "Wha—"
"It's not wasted," he cut her off before stepping closer. Lucius knocked on the moldy door and Hermione noticed there was some sort of a rhythm to it. A second later, a masculine voice sounded from the other side.
"What is the color of the sky?"
Hermione tried to peer through the glass to see who was talking but she couldn't see a thing. She glanced at Lucius, waiting for his answer. Hermione had a feeling that neither white nor blue was the correct one.
"Green," he said, and then she heard the telltale sound of the door unlocking.
What she saw inside completely surprised her. It was the complete opposite of what it looked like on the outside. The walls were pristine white, lined neatly with shelves of potions and various ingredients ranging from something as common as Asphodel's roots to the more rare and expensive ingredients like fairy wings. She wondered if the rest of the shops in Knockturn Alley were actually like this but then she remembered Borgin and Burkes and thought that maybe this shop was the exception. At the far end of the room, a tall man stood behind the counter. He had greying hair in his temples and wore dark blue robes. Hermione noticed he was wearing a monocle, completing the ensemble. It reminded her of Bernard, her family butler.
"Good afternoon, Lord Malfoy," he greeted Lucius and then flicked his gaze to Hermione. "And Miss Granger. What can I do for you on this fine afternoon?"
Hermione could not move. She couldn't speak. Her stomach rolled like a ship in a storm. If she was sick all over the gentleman's floor, would she have to pay for damages? She only withdrew fifty galleons. Would that be enough? She glanced at her reflection on the window. Her cropped blonde curls were still there and glancing at Lucius revealed that his hair was still short and dyed black. How did the gentleman at the counter recognize them?
"What the fuck," she said quietly but Lucius somehow still heard her for he gave her that same disapproving look he did earlier.
Her companion stepped up to the counter and slipped the parchment that contained the list of potions they wanted to purchase. The gentleman glanced at it surreptitiously before taking it from Lucius' fingers.
"I will be with you shortly," the gentleman said and then went to the door behind the counter where, Hermione assumed, the stock of potions and ingredients were stored.
As soon as the doors clicked shut, she immediately turned to Lucius who was busy perusing the displays on the shelves. "He knows who we are. He could be contacting those Death Eaters or worse, alerting the Ministry. We should leave now!"
"What did I just say earlier before we went into Knockturn Alley?"
Hermione bristled. "To stick beside you and follow your lead. But he knows who we are!"
"It is just a precaution. Most shops in Knockturn Alley are surrounded by these kinds of wards. Some even strip one's wizard of their magic while inside the building," he explained. "Everyone in Knockturn Alley sells all sort of items from legal to downright illicit that one word of it on the wrong ear would land you a life sentence in Azkaban. There is a reason why Knockturn Alley received its questionable reputation."
She sighed. If they didn't need those potions, she would definitely be out of this place before anyone could say Wolfsbane.
"I still don't trust him," she muttered.
"Neither do I," he echoed. "But it's his reputation on the line if he sold us out."
That, Hermione understood.
A minute passed when the back door opened again and the gentleman came back carrying a small wooden box. He placed it on the counter facing them and swung the lid open. "You may test these potions if you wish before you make your purchase."
"It's fine," Lucius said. "We'll take it."
"Very well," the gentleman nodded. "That will be 46 galleons."
Hermione internally winced. She was hoping to save a few galleons in case of an emergency. Going to the bank took up a lot of time—time that could be devoted to learning how to destroy the Horcruxes. With a heavy heart, she plucked the two excess galleons and placed the pouch on top of the counter. She tensed when the gentleman pulled out his wand and pointed it on the black pouch. A stream of yellow came out of it and a few seconds later, the gentleman nodded his head. He closed the lid of the box and pushed it in their direction.
"A pleasure doing business with you, Lord Malfoy, Miss Granger," he tipped his head slightly.
Hermione immediately shrunk the box and carefully placed it inside her small beaded bag. With a curt nod, she and Lucius exited the shop… and ran straight into someone.
"Watch where you're going, girl!"
Hermione looked up and came face to face with Fenrir Greyback.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck me straight to Hades.
She could feel her flight or fight response kicking in and right now, the urge to flee was overcoming all of her other senses. Hermione knew running away was a hopeless endeavor (this was Fenrir Greyback they were talking about) and apparating within Diagon and Knockturn Alley was banned by the Ministry. A bit of hopelessness settled in her chest. I'm going to get caught. I'm going to die. Gods, I'm too young to die. I haven't even taken my NEWTS!
A strong arm circled her waist and she was yanked beside Lucius in a tight half-embrace. "I do apologize, sir. My wife is feeling ill at the moment. We are just in a hurry to get home."
Pale-blue eyes looked at her worriedly and it took a moment for Hermione to figure out that he was acting. Whatever happens, just follow my lead. "That's erm… yes, sir. I am deeply sorry," she felt a slight pressure on her hip where Lucius squeezed it.
Greyback looked back between them and Hermione held her breath, hoping for the worst. Her wand was tucked underneath her robes and she wondered how fast could she pull it out before the werewolf could incapacitate her and Lucius.
"She looks too young to be your wife," Greyback narrowed his eyes at Lucius then took a step forward. Hermione would've stepped back if it weren't for Lucius' iron grip on her waist.
"My wife does indeed look young but I assure you, we're almost the same age," Lucius grinned, his fake mustache stretching along with his lips.
But Greyback wasn't entirely convinced. He stepped forward again and took a deep breath. Hermione felt Lucius tensed beside her. "You smell familiar."
Despite the tension in her companion's posture, Lucius' smile remained firmly in place. "It must be my perfume. It's quite common."
"You sound familiar too," the werewolf took another step and he was there in front of Hermione. So close she could smell rotten flesh and blood that it made her want to vomit her entire lunch. "In fact, you remind me of someone the Dark Lord wanted to find. You wouldn't mind if we took a little detour—"
"Greyback!"
She and Lucius exhaled a breath they didn't know they were holding when Greyback turned around towards the voice calling him. A man in deep black robes came from the corner and she heard Lucius mutter a string of obscenities under his breath.
"I thought I told you to wait by the door!"
"I'm not your guard dog, Lestrange," Greyback snapped. Hermione felt her blood completely drained from her face. Talk about misfortune. Now they desperately needed to get out of here. She was so sure that Greyback already knew who they were.
"We need to go now!" Lucius hissed near her ear and Hermione didn't need to be told twice. They both left while the werewolf was still distracted. She followed Lucius through the twist and turns of Knockturn Alley and as Diagon Alley finally emerged, Hermione thought she was safe.
"Hey!"
She was about to turn her head but Lucius's voice stopped her. "Don't look back," he said. "Pretend you didn't hear a thing."
Lucius half-dragged her back to the pub and it was the first time Hermione cursed her short stature. She was catching her breath as she tried to keep up with his long and quick strides. Hermione had half the mind to transfigure a wooden plank into a skateboard and glide her way out of here.
The voice calling them faded away once they reached inside The Leaky Cauldron. She saw out of the corner of her eye the way Lucius faltered when they passed by the floo. For a split-second, Hermione thought he was going to make a run for it but then he shook his head and made a beeline for the exit.
Hermione had never been so grateful for the ever-busy street of Charing Cross right now. Surely no one would dare to chase them all the way here?
"That was…" she took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled slowly. "That was so close."
"Agreed," he panted and Hermione noticed the beads of sweat trickling down his temple.
"Do you think Lestrange would recognize you immediately?" she asked.
"Without a doubt," Lucius replied. "I've known him since Hogwarts. His older brother was in my year."
Hermione shuddered. Even if her companion had a perfectly functioning wand, she doubted they could take out two veteran duelists in combat. She barely held her own against Dolohov back then.
"I don't think we should apparate back directly."
"Yes," he agreed. "I think it is best if we visit a place or two first."
"Make it three," she sighed. "What a way to celebrate my birthday."
"As far as birthdays go, this is not the worse," Lucius gave her a small smile. "You could be spending it in a holding cell in the Ministry, being interrogated by Umbridge."
Hermione screwed her face in disgust. "Please don't mention that horrible toad on the day of my birthday. Have some decency."
Lucius was laughing as she looped her arm around his. He was still laughing when the vacuum of apparition took place and all that was left in that hidden corner of the street was the echo of his laughter.
Ginny had stopped bothering with the tissues and just let the tears flow freely. She couldn't believe Harry called this fun! This was purely emotional torture! She had to admit that these 'films' he and Hermione mentioned were really something. It was like watching a memory from a Pensieve without submerging your face in a basin full of swirling mist. She now understood her father's obsession with all things Muggle.
Harry told her that the film, although not real, was based on a true story. It was about a German businessman who saved thousands of Jews from the Holocaust. It was the first time Ginny learned about the atrocities of that Muggle war and how similar it was to theirs. And it was horrifying to learn that there were really large groups of people out there that were capable of such gruesome acts. She was somewhat aware of it now. Why some Purebloods were so detestable against Muggles, some even claiming them to be nothing but savage beasts, but couldn't they see that they were doing exactly the same thing they were trying to condemn?
But the man in the film. Oskar Schindler. He was also a German. A Nazi. He was part of the group that killed and tortured millions of Jews. He was an opportunist at first but as the story progressed, he started to care for his workers and had sacrificed his wealth just to ensure their safety.
Ginny wanted to think that there were others like Schindler who were capable of change but she remembered how the Purebloods looked down on her family—a fellow Pureblood like them, and her empathy turned into rage. She thought of Malfoy and how he and his family made it hard for the entire Weasleys. Her parents never told them but Ginny sometimes caught parts of their conversation especially when she was the only child left at home with the rest of her siblings staying at Hogwarts for a year. How Malfoy bribed some people to prevent her father from getting a promotion at work. How the twins struggled to find a place for their joke shop only to find out that it was also due to Malfoy blackmailing every landlord Fred and George tried to approach.
But you're working with him now, aren't you? The voice inside her head mocked her. For all your hatred of the Malfoys, where did that leave you still? Back in their mercy.
She shook her head. It wasn't her who suggested making that deal. It wasn't her that made the vow.
But you still allowed it. The voice continued to taunt her. You could've stopped them. You could've tortured Malfoy for the information instead but what did you do? You went along, Ginevra.
Ginny froze.
It was when the voice said her name that she realized it wasn't her consciousness talking back to her. Like being drenched with a bucket of ice-cold water, Ginny shivered and glanced at the actual source of the voice. It was the locket.
Fuck you, Riddle! She shouted in her mind. You'll never mess with me again!
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Ginny concentrated on clearing her mind of negative things. It was something Parvati had taught her right after the chamber incident and Ginny had been eternally grateful since.
Five minutes passed and she finally felt at ease, the tension on her body slowly eased out of her. She decided to go and check Harry but the sound of footsteps halted her. She pulled out her wand and stood hidden in the shadows. A full minute passed by and just as she was about to reveal herself, Ginny saw Hermione and Malfoy emerge from the entrance hall. They were both still wearing the disguises Ginny asked them to wear.
"You're back!" She released a breath she didn't know she was holding. Hermione gave her a tired smile while Malfoy just stood behind looking equally tired as well. "What happened to you two?"
"We ran into a bit of trouble," she said.
"Quite literally, I'm afraid," Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Hermione and Ginny noticed a faint blush that tinged her friend's cheeks. She stared at the two of them, waiting for them to elaborate.
"Fenrir Greyback," Hermione continued. "I ran into him while leaving Knockturn Alley."
Ginny gasped. "Are you alright? You didn't get hurt, did you? And why were you in Knockturn Alley?"
"The shops in Diagon are closed," Hermione sighed. "We managed to slip away while he was distracted but I think he tried to follow us although we shook him loose when we exited the Leaky."
"Thank Merlin. It's a good thing he has a short attention span," she mused.
"No, he didn't actually. That was the other trouble. He was with Rodolphus Lestrange," Hermione explained. "If we haven't gotten out of there before Lestrange reached us, we're probably doomed."
"Well, I'm just glad you two made it back in one piece," Ginny crossed the short distance and gave Hermione a hug. "Happy birthday, by the way."
"Thanks, Gin," Hermione patted her on the back before letting go. "Where's Harry?"
"In the kitchen, cooking supper."
Ginny watched as Hermione gave Malfoy a look. "I'll go and freshen up first. See you guys downstairs in a few."
"Sure," Hermione went up the stairs, leaving Ginny and Malfoy alone.
"I think I will do that as well," Malfoy echoed. He gave a parting nod to Ginny before leaving.
As soon as Malfoy disappeared from view, Ginny made her way to the kitchen.
Soft, jazz music filtered from the radio, surrounding the entire room. Harry and Hermione were dancing on the other side of the room, both of their heads thrown back in laughter. Ginny, who was slouched on the couch with a dazed look on her face, lost count of how many times Harry had stepped on Hermione's foot. Malfoy was nursing his second cup of coffee beside Ginny, a content look on his face as well.
The four of them congregated in the parlor room after supper, each carrying a slice of the cake Harry and Ginny bought a few hours ago. Ginny recalled how Hermione blushed a darker shade of red when Harry brought the cake out while singing 'Happy Birthday' a little off-key. The blush deepened when Malfoy also joined in on the singing, much to Ginny's amusement.
This was the first time the four of them had got together after a meal. Even when they were staying at Grimmauld Place, they usually went about their separate ways after eating. Sometimes two of them would stay to have a little chat but it was never the four of them.
Ginny felt like dozing off but she fought the call of Morpheus. She wanted to savor this relaxed moment between the four of them before they went back to hunting Horcruxes. She then glanced at Malfoy. He was now looking at the radio with an inscrutable expression on his face. She nudged him gently in the ribs. "You should ask Hermione to dance with you too."
Malfoy looked at her as if she had just suggested they commit murder.
"It's her birthday," Ginny said, thinking it was reason enough.
A moment later, he answered her. "Fine," Malfoy grumbled. "Though the moment she steps on my foot, I am ending it."
She just shrugged as if to say 'whatever'. The song ended and a slow jazz song started. Malfoy took that as his cue and cut in smoothly between Harry and Hermione. Ginny saw Harry glare at Malfoy while Hermione only ducked her head, her face flushed red.
"Killjoy," Harry mumbled as he took the vacant seat beside Ginny.
"Oh, let them. You can always cut in later," she replied. "Besides, Hermione's feet must be sore from all that stomping you did."
"Am I really that horrible of a dancer?"
"There's always room for improvement," Ginny grinned at him. "I really do hope you do get better, Harry. I don't fancy my foot being murdered on our wedding day."
"Ginny—"
Harry's words were cut off when the entire house suddenly shook. Ginny saw Malfoy suddenly clutched his arm, his face contorted in pain.
"What's happening?"
"Someone's trying to dismantle the wards!" Hermione yelled.
"It's them," Malfoy hissed. "They found us!"
"Bloody hell!" Ginny and Harry both rose from their seats, wands at the ready. "We need to go!"
The house shook harder this time and Ginny knew that the wards were already broken. In an instant, seven hooded figures materialized in the middle of the parlor room. She immediately noticed Fenrir Greyback and Antonin Dolohov among them.
"We meet again, girl. Or should I say, Mudblood?" Fenrir snarled, his fangs poking out of his lips.
"I like the new look, Lucius. It suits you," one of the hooded Death Eaters said. "You look like one of them now. A worthless Muggle."
"Better than looking like you, Avery," Lucius drawled haughtily.
"No matter. It seems you and that Mudblood bitch led us to the Undesirable Number One."
"Allow us to express our gratitude," Dolohov sneered before turning to Hermione. "I still haven't repaid you for that incident a month ago."
"You don't have to," she spat. "The pleasure's all mine!"
"Close your eyes!" Harry yelled and Ginny and Hermione did just in time for him to cast the spell. "Lumos Maxima!"
The entire room was bathed in bright white light, momentarily blinding everyone but them. Ginny and Harry ran to Hermione's outstretched hand and as the pull of apparition took the four of them away, Ginny saw Dolohov sprinting towards them, a furious expression on his face.
And then everything turned black.
AN: I wanted to post this chapter last week. Exactly on Hermione's birthday but life happened. Better late than never, as they say. She would've been forty-two now.