"You've figured something out."
It was obvious she had. It was the same look that gripped her in class when she had the answer to a teacher's question. Her eyes would grow to the size of a mermaid's breastplate, her eyebrows would fly high, and her arm would shoot up faster than Marcus Flint's Quaffle throw. Now here, pointing directly at him, were those same gleaming brown orbs.
He watched as she took a step closer to him, tightly curling her fists to her chest and quickly shooting them back out, opening her palms to him and sucking in a rapid breath, before promptly blurting out, "I have a plan."
Of course she does.
Holding his chin high, he managed something between a nod and a shake of his head as he opened his palms back to her, speaking dully but clearly.
"Let's hear it then."
Her smile slipped out, seemingly pleased he was humoring her, and she lifted a finger, preparing to count every item on the itinerary that was to come, each with more enthusiasm than the next. "First, we change your hair—"
"We've established that—"
"Next, we find our way to Diagon alley—"
His eyebrows furrowed at the suggestion. They didn't exactly have a way to get there. And on top of that, all the entrances were heavily guarded by the ministry because of her and the wonderboy's little stunt at Gringotts. Apparently, having a dragon burst free from deep within the bank was enough to put the entire region on alert. And since the government was involved, the Dark Lord had his boney fingers indirectly involved… she must have guessed that. "By what means exactly?" He asked.
"That's where we'll get the remainder of the supplies."
His brow twitched and a hand found itself a perch on his hips.
"Granger—"
She cut him off, bulldozing right over him.
"I imagine we won't be able to apparate much after that as I've never really been down to that area. So, perhaps we could take a bus." She began pacing back and forth, hands flying with her words. "And you've clearly never used muggle transportation—oh, don't give me that look. You'll get accustomed to it."
His narrowed eyes followed her movements as she continued her never-ending train of thought.
"Ok, so we'll either need to gather enough stock to last us the entire trip or we'll need to figure out a way to get some money so we can use the bus. Well…really, if we didn't take the bus, we'd just need an extendable tent and then we can start making our way south. That part we could figure out as we go—"
"I'm already seeing holes in this eureka plan of yours—" he said to no one in particular, gently pressing himself back against the wall of the alley and shoving his hands in his pockets. She wasn't listening to him anyway.
"After that, we'll travel to Dover," said Hermione.
Lifting his shoulders, he exhaled a long breath and let his head rest against the wall, deciding it was best to let her rant. She'd eventually fall out of her headspace.
"And from there,-" she continued.
Maybe.
"-we'll get on the muggle fairy and head over to Calais."
Calais?
He looked back to her brightly shining eyes, and it was easy to imagine her eagerly waiting for him to give her an "O" for her outstanding presentation. Shaking his head, he forced his brain to shut out the oncoming schoolgirl fantasy and focused on quickly recapping everything she'd just rambled.
When he felt collected, he took a slow breath and summarised.
"So…you want to go to France?"
Giving him a pointed look, she exaggerated a nod. "We want to go to France."
He frowned. "Why would we—"
"Think of it! Back when you were recovering from the imperius curse, you spoke of a safe house."
His eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up as he pushed his head into the wall and away from her.
"Yes! Right? In France!" she exclaimed. "Where is it located? Who else knows about it?"
He stayed quiet a moment. Then lifted a single eyebrow and leaned toward her as he clarified her plan.
"You want to travel across England, and into France, just to hide in the Malfoy family's safe house."
"Yes! Well, sort of, but yes!"
Wow.
That was an interesting idea. He crossed his arms, letting his chin fall to his chest as he seriously contemplated her proposition. The Malfoy safe houses weren't well known. The only living people who knew about the one in France were his mother, his father, certain house-elves and himself…and well, now Granger too, he supposed.
"Don't you see? It's brilliant! No one would even consider looking for us there. It's the ideal solution. We'd be safe from snatchers, the weather, possibly starvation if the place is stocked up."
"Granger, the grounds are sealed with ancient family enchantments—I don't even know if I can get you in."
Her expression fell.
"Well, it would be worthwhile to find out. We're fresh out of money and we're homeless."
"You're homeless."
Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips, hands landing harshly on her hips.
"Last I checked, so are you. But perhaps I was mistaken." She said smartly, pulling at a flyaway strand of hair. "You could waltz back to Malfoy manor and hope daddy's set up a welcome home party for you. Of course, I wouldn't go with, and you could live with whatever consequences that could come of that."
His nose wrinkled in response and his teeth bared, his neck flushing and he let out something between a tsk and a huff from his nostrils. Something he'd hoped she'd take as a warning to back off.
But she held steady and confident, unruffled by his change in demeanor, as her eyes still burrowed unapologetically into his.
"You must think you're so bright," he rigidly spat.
"Am I not?"
This time a sharp, breathy laugh escaped him as he looked up to the heavens, breaking their ongoing staring contest. He looked to the roof of the alley and up to the heavy clouds above them. He needed the reprieve for patience, for a clever response, or for pretty much anything that would get him out of agreeing with her.
Because she was indeed, bright. He knew she was. He'd already admitted as much. He resented the fact that he put himself in a situation where he had to reiterate it once again. So, when nothing came, he let out a long sigh and hung his head.
Closing his eyes, he gave her a single nod, then slowly lifted his gaze to watch her reaction. Her shoulders had dropped, and she exhaled, letting her eyes wander around his features. Then the corner of her mouth turned up, and she rolled her eyes, moving forward a few steps and coming up to lean her shoulder against the wall beside him.
Making sure to keep his head straight, he resisted the temptation to turn and kept his eyes occupied with scanning the alley ahead. He brought his hands up and placed them behind his back, shifting his weight to them.
She was right, of course. The safe house was a clever idea. If it was empty, they could just hide and wait for everything to blow over. Her friends didn't know about it, so none of them would be coming for her there, which meant he would be safe. Even better, he would have the means to try contacting his mother. But there was also a possibility that his father had offered up the house as another death eater hideout. The Dark Lord's influence wasn't limited by the borders of England. And if that was the case, he'd be forced to string a story of how he overpowered her and planned to bring her back to the manor and attempt to offer her up as a spoil of war. He'd watch her be tortured yet a second time. Merlin only knew how much he didn't want to go through that again.
His gaze fell to the ground in front of him.
That being said – he knew she'd reveal his defective nature and use it to her advantage.
He considered his options carefully.
He snuck a peak down to the pouch tied to her side. She still had that other wand in one of those compartments. In order to negate scenario B, all he had to do was get his hands on it. His fingers curled as they rubbed against his palms. Same plan as before. Nothing's changed. There was no discernable downside for him if he succeeded.
Glancing up, he could see her quiet demeanor from the corner of his eye as she watched him.
Decided, he finally turned and looked at her, giving another curt nod.
"Let's do it."
She took a moment, her eyes shifted between his, searching for whatever it was she was missing.
Not enjoying the extra scrutiny, he pushed off the wall and stepped past her curious gaze, quickly rubbing his ever-growing sweaty palms on his pants.
It would be a long journey to France. He had ample time to grab the wand. Regardless of the outcome at the safe house, either they would both be safe, or she would be silenced and he would be free.
"Alright," she said from behind him, "well I'm not sure how you knew I was homeless, but my parents are out of the country, so if the house isn't sold yet we could use the upstairs bathroom to—"
"Your house is off-limits." He interrupted, turning back around to her, "it's under constant watch in case you did something stupid and sentimental. Like return to it."
"Right." She said. "Of course that makes sense."
Then her eyes snapped back to his, lips suddenly pursed and eyebrows knitting together, as her voice gave an almost breathy shake.
"What do they know? About my parents?"
She visibly stiffened, bracing herself as if she was suddenly hanging on a piece of thread and he had scissors hovering above it, waiting for the right moment to cut her down. And he debated doing so. But holding her parents above her wouldn't get him anything of value.
Sure, he could lie and say they'd been captured or killed. But then she'd be devastated and distraught, which meant he'd need to endure the aftermath. And if there was anything that was remotely relatable between them, it was their desire to go home. To family. He watched the intensity of her gaze grow with his silence.
His features softened, a hand coming up a moment before dropping back down to his side. Giving a small shake of his head, his eyes dipped to the ground before looking back up to her.
"Nothing. The house had already been vacated when they arrived."
"No." She said. "You're lying."
With a jerking motion, she reached back for her wand, pulling it out and hastily moving forward to close the distance between them. When Hermione was in reach, she grabbed the cloth of his elbow and jabbed her wand forward into his abdomen. His hands flurried to her shoulders and held on as he pushed her away, hips jutting backward to avoid being stabbed.
"What. Happened?"
"Nothing."
"Malfoy, I swear—" she hissed, giving his arm a rough jerk.
He grabbed her shoulders more boldly.
"I'm not lying." he urged firmly, giving her a squeeze and leaning forward, forcing his eyes into hers.
"If something's happened to your parents, I know nothing about it."
She searched his eyes again, quickly overrun by her emotions, and he watched as her eyelids went red and the moisture built.
"Honestly," he echoed, looking at her from underneath his bangs and daring to crack a smile.
She didn't return it, but the tension eased around her face.
Slowly, her hand slipped down his arm, until she finally let go.
"We need to get to Diagon alley." She said, looking away from him and wiping her nose on her sleeve.
He dropped his arms from her shoulders and looked away, letting his hands sink into his pockets. It hadn't taken much to convince her at all. Something swelled within him then he couldn't quite identify as he quietly exhaled; she believed him. "Tough chance Granger, all the entrances are guarded up and the Floo Networks are being monitored," he responded, "as is King's Cross, the Leaky Cauldron—"
"Yes, I figured. And I'm willing to bet they disabled apparition like they did in the forest."
He nodded, clearing his throat. "Most likely."
"Hmmm," she mumbled, looking off into nothing, crossing her arms before bringing her thumb up to gently chew on the nail.
He waited for her to figure it out.
It didn't take long before she stopped playing with her thumb and used the hand to hold up her chin, finding his gaze.
"Ab's village had thestrals."
His eyebrows shot up. "Can you ride one?"
"I've done it before actually." She muttered, uncrossing her arms and giving a tap to her thigh with the wand she still held. "They're much like owls with letters. You only need to say your destination and they usually understand the general area they need to go."
That could work.
Clever indeed.