Chapter Two

Hermione was speechless, her vision narrowed to block out everything but the almost-reflection of herself staring back at her, knowing with certainty that this woman was not her, although they seemed to be physically identical in every way.

Hermione Jean Granger: Known associate of Undesirable No.1 Harry Potter. Unregistered Muggleborn. 7000 Galleons reward for information leading to capture or incapacitation. Approach with extreme caution.

'What the-?' The fog of her confusion was so thick that there was no panic. Just a dull throbbing in the middle of her forehead where her thoughts were attempting to align themselves.

'You don't...know anything about this?' Draco asked uneasily.

'Draco, that's not me. I'm a model citizen!' her pitch rose slightly. 'And you know I'm not friends with Harry Potter.'

'Right,' he sighed, his hand bridging his temples as he tried to make sense of this revelation. 'It fucking looks like you, Granger. And that's your name.'

She stared at him, imploring. 'It's...I'm,' she trailed off. 'We need to get out of here.'

'No fucking shit,' he was beginning to lose his temper. 'What the fuck is going on? Where the fuck is Brewer? Or fucking anyone? How are you a wanted woman?' His breathing was heavier now, his chest visibly expanding under his robes as he talked. 'What the fuck is going on?' he asked again.

'Your language is disgusting. And I don't know,' she said heavily, folding up the posters and putting them in her bag. Her mind felt dull, like the afternoon sun waiting for the parting of grey clouds. Instead of the terror she expected to feel, she seemed to have shifted into an unfocused blankness she recognised vaguely from the feeling of being under the Imperius curse. 'I need to leave. If I really am Undesirable Number 2, I don't think I should be here.'

Her usually efficient mind was sifting through the facts presented to her at an irritatingly sluggish pace. As Hermione peered up at Draco she noticed his gaze had turned wary, and he had maintained a distance of several feet from where she was still sitting on the reception desk.

'Shouldn't you just turn yourself in? That feels very on brand for you,' he asked.

'For what? I'm not handing myself over until I know what I'm supposed to have done.' She paused, considering for a moment this boy who until this morning she had barely spoken to, and never touched. 'You're not thinking of handing me in are you? For the reward?'

He laughed bitterly at that. 'No, Granger. Whatever is going on, I'm fairly sure we're going to need that giant brain of yours to fix it.'

'I see. Self-serving as ever.'

'What else? Also that amount of money is really of no consequence to me,' he shrugged.

'Right. Let's get out of here then,' she decided, jumping down from the desk and landing on still wobbly knees.

Draco was looking at her incredulously. 'So, now we're going to break you, apparently a dangerous and wanted criminal, out of the Ministry of Magic, using nothing but our wands and our wits?'

'Do you have a better suggestion?' she asked levelly.

'A plan would be nice,' he scowled.

'That is the plan. Shall we try and get back to the roof?' Hermione suggested.

'I don't think the carriage will be there. I was planning on leaving by floo at the end of the day. What about you?' he asked.

'I have a portkey scheduled. So the carriage is probably gone,' she agreed.

'So that leaves the floo in the Atrium, or the employee's entrance. I never have enjoyed flushing myself down the toilet.' His nose wrinkled in distaste. It was not lost on Hermione that despite the gravity of the situation, he remained determined not to sully himself.

'All right,' she tapped her fingers on the hard edge of the desk. Draco had moved some feet away looking down the corridor toward the exit to the lifts. The Department of Mysteries itself was still eerily silent. 'You don't think, everyone has gone do you? Like, some kind of fire alarm test.'

'A fire-what?' he asked, looking sideways at her, a frown on his brow,

'Never mind. Or a test as part of our career day? To see how we react?'

'I don't think so Granger. It seems like a lot of work to clear out the whole department to test two school children,' he snapped.

'So we have to assume that I actually am wanted by the Ministry.' Hermione searched her mind for some kind of indication of how this might have happened, but for the first time in her life she was stumped. She just didn't break the law. She had no reason to. 'How recognisable do you think I am?' she asked him.

Draco shifted awkwardly on his feet. 'I don't know. I mean, I see you everyday. But I think you're very recognisable. You don't look like any other witches I know.'

'But these people won't know me. They won't be able to recognise me.' She was sure.

'We can't assume - they might think you've done something really terrible. Your face could be everywhere.'

'Since this morning?' she asked shortly. 'I think we should be fine to get to the floo if I keep my head down.'

'How are you at Human Transfiguration?' he asked.

'Not great,' Hermione admitted. 'I'm still not feeling well. I can probably change my hair colour.'

'Can you make it...less?' he stalled.

'Less what?'

'Just less...everywhere.' He gestured vaguely at the three feet surrounding her head and Hermione rolled her eyes. The jokes about her hair had followed her since first year, as though curly hair was some-kind of abominable rarity.

Hermione held her wand to her temple. Beginning at the roots a wave of magic rolled over her curls, reducing them to a lank and dirty blond. Draco's lips flattened in what might have been disgust.

'That's better. You look nothing like yourself.'

She huffed and started down the corridor, her breath audible in the heavy stillness of the air. 'It won't last long. My magic isn't feeling very powerful at the moment.'

Draco didn't say anything further as he led them to the lift entrance at the end of the corridor. He opened the metal gates and stood aside for her to enter. Hermione paused, grasping his elbow as she moved past him.

'Draco. You don't have to help me. I don't know what's going on. But I can do this on my own. I'm fairly sure I'm going to have to bend a few laws to get out of here.' Hermione peered up at him earnestly, the light from the dim lamps reflected in her eyes.

His jaw was set in determination. 'I'll help you, Granger. From the little I know of you, I can't see you as a criminal mastermind. Nor Harry. And I know him very well.'

She passed him into the lift, and was about to thank him when he stepped directly in front of her, crowding her into the corner with his body. Turning his back on her, he pushed the button that would take them to the Atrium, his shoulder blades almost touching her nose as they swayed with the movement to their destination.

'There's really no need Dra-,' Hermione began to protest, cut off as the lift slowed and the doors opened. A stout woman, dressed in pink and resembling a Pygmy Puff (and not in a good way) stepped into the lift. Her eyes rested covetously on Draco as she stood next to him in the enclosed space.

'Good afternoon, Madam Umbridge.' Draco greeted her politely as the lift resumed its ascent.

The woman giggled girlishly, fluttering her eyelashes at Draco in a way that made Hermione's stomach turn. 'Oh Draco,' she breathed, 'you should know to call me Dolores by now.' She smiled sweetly. 'What brings you here today?' Her hand had crept up to rest on his bicep and Draco looked down at her short fingers, eyebrows raising in surprise.

'I have some business to attend to,' he said vaguely.

It was only at this point that Umbridge managed to tear her eyes from Draco long enough to notice Hermione, gasping at first in shock, then with a vicious glee in the upward turn of her mouth.

'Oh Draco. You've caught the Mudblood.'

Draco flinched slightly at the word before he managed to collect himself, looking down at the woman coldly as he responded.

'I'm just taking her up to the DMLE.'

'I'm sure you're very busy,' Her fingers were now at his collar brushing at the nape of his neck as he shifted uncomfortably. 'I could do that for you.'

Hermione had had enough. 'That won't be necessa-,' he began to respond when he was interrupted by Hermione's low hiss.

'Stupefy.' She watched dispassionately as the woman fell to the floor with a thump.

'What the fuck, Granger? You can't just-,' Draco's eyes were wide with shock.

'She called me 'Mudblood', Draco. What a disgusting woman.' Hermione seemed unphased as she disillusioned Umbridge's body and kicked her non-too gently to the side of the lift.

'Is this what you meant by 'bending laws'? You can't just go around stunning the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic!' He raked his fingers through his hair in what was clearly frustration.

Hermione decided to ignore him. 'How do you know her anyway?'

'My father knows her well. She's helped him out on occasion.' Draco replied. 'Although I must admit she's never interacted with me so...' he paused, revulsion clear in his face, 'intimately before.'

'Yes, I'm sorry, Draco. It looked very unpleasant.'

The clear ring of a bell signaled the arrival of the lift in the Atrium. Draco grabbed her firmly by the upper arm, steering her ahead of him.

'What do you think you're doing?' she protested.

'Just in case someone recognises you,' he muttered back, his voice low in her ear.

Hermione was discouraged to see 'Undesirable' posters interspersed evenly along the walls as they made their way through the Atrium, weaving their way through subdued groups of Ministry employees. A giant apparition of Harry Potter's face looked down at them from behind a large statue in stark contrast to the one depicting magical unity that normally decorated the space.

'Are those Muggles?' Hermione whispered, gesturing to the crush of people beneath the 'Magic is Might' slogan.

'We don't have time for this right now,' he hissed pushing her forward.

As Draco and Hermione approached the fireplaces they were intercepted by a man with dark, heavy features.

'Young Malfoy,' he greeted in heavily accented English. 'What are you doing here? You have no orders from the Dark Lord.' Hermione was struck by the cruelty she saw in his gaze.

Draco seemed to be struggling to form words. 'No, Dolohov,' he managed. 'There was an unexpected incident I am dealing with.' He pushed Hermione forward and she kept her head bowed.

'And who is your friend?' He grabbed Hermione's chin roughly, lifting it to look into her face, a frown settling darkly over his features. 'Mudblood Granger.' His breath was hot and stale as the words washed over her. 'Where are you taking her?' An accusation was clear in his tone.

'We've been at the DMLE,' Draco responded. At the rising volume of Dolohov's words, a small crowd had begun to gather as ministry staff began to falter on their way past, loitering close by and peering at Hermione in a mixture of fear and curiosity.

'And where are you taking her now? The Dark Lord specified-,'

His jaw fell lax and his eyes rolled as he toppled forward onto the ground at Draco's feet. Draco and the audience looked around in confusion until they saw Hermione's wand arm held straight, fury in the set of her mouth. She had cast non-verbally.

As the realisation dawned among the onlookers, Hermione noted as though in slow motion the fumbled drawing of wands from pockets and holsters. She managed to fire off two more stunning spells and a petrificus totalus before Draco had even got hold of his wand from inside the depths of his robes. Why these people believed he could ever have captured her she had no idea.

Draco grabbed her wrist and dragged her behind the stone base of the towering statue, the contorted faces in the carved granite grimacing at her from above. Spells of green and red bounced off the stone around them, a firework display reflected in the polished green tiles that surrounded them.

'Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,' hissed Draco.

'Quite,' replied Hermione, taking a deep breath.

'I fucking had it under control.'

'You did not, Draco.'

'So fucking spell happy. Fucking idiot.'

'Oh yes. You were really fooling him with your thin excuses and vague responses,' Hermione hissed.

'Just shut up, Granger. I need to think.' Black-robed Aurors had joined the group that was approaching now, fanning around them to cut off their access to the fireplaces at one side of the room.

'We need to get to the visitor's entrance. The phone box.' Hermione pointed at the bright red box on the opposite side of the room to the fireplaces. 'It's our only option now. They think we're going for the floo.'

'That thing moves more slowly than a flobberworm, Granger. We'll be sitting ducks.'

'It must have magical protections on it. It's our only chance.'

'I cannot believe you've dragged me into this with you.' he scowled. 'I'm going to be in so much fucking trouble.'

Hermione couldn't prevent the genuine trill of laughter that escaped her, and he grinned back shallowly.

'Let's do it. We'll have to run.' She held out her hand to him this time, feeling for the first time like allies, rather than acquaintances. When his fingers wrapped around hers she grasped back tightly, feeling inappropriately pleased to have him on her side.

'Let's get our shields up first. Every little helps.' His knuckles were white from the too firm grip on his wand, but his grasp on her hand was only firm enough to be comforting.

The two of them straightened, and with a last glance at each other roared the spell, the bright white of their shield charms erupting from their wands as they rounded the statue. Showers of coloured light descended on them, those hitting the shields bouncing off harmlessly and crashing into walls as they sprinted to the red telephone box sitting innocuously in the corner of the room. Draco yanked his hand from her grasp to open the door, shoved her inside and shut the door behind them, renewing his shield as the box slowly began to rise.

The man Draco had called Dolohov skidded to a halt outside the booth, the spells he had cast bouncing innocently off the glass door. Hermione and Draco were left with no choice but to watch as the collection of Aurors, ministry workers and visitors met their stare in wide-eyed shock as the red phone box ascended incrementally higher in the air.

Draco shifted himself behind her, his wand held in front of him over her shoulder maintaining his shield. As they continued on their journey upwards, the shocked faces below them blurring with the slowly growing distance, she felt more than heard the rumbling in his chest behind her and turned her head to find him snickering quietly.

'We are going so fucking slowly,' he laughed darkly. 'This must be the most underwhelming criminal escape in the history of the Ministry.' And Hermione couldn't help it. They had been making their exit at a snail's pace for over a minute now, generic lift music tinkling gently from the telephone behind them and the gathered crowd below watching dumbly. She laughed too, gradually building to hysteria as tears escaped the corners of her eyes.

'We're going to have to Apparate as soon as we get out.' Draco squeezed her shoulder as she began to catch her breath. Peals of laughter faded to nothing.

'OK. I've got my license. I'll take us.'

'Where?'

'Maybe it's better that I don't say yet,' she told him.

He nodded grimly as they passed through the concrete of the pavement, afternoon light filling the phone box gradually. Hermione was surprised to find there was no waiting team of Aurors from what she could see, although they were exiting into the Muggle world. She realised they were about to breach the Statute of Secrecy, in addition to her other crimes, assumed and now actual.

She pushed the door open cautiously and stepped out, waiting for a barrage of spells that never came. As Draco joined her he slipped his hand into hers and dragged her half running towards a narrow side street across the road, pulling her behind an overflowing bin and crouching so as not to be seen.

'I think we should go to the Manor,' he said firmly.

'Are you mad?' she whispered incredulously. 'You're mad. Narcissa Malfoy does not take tea with Undesirable Number Two.'

He exhaled a dry laugh. 'No, you're right there. But my parents will have information.' He looked her over. 'They always do.'

'I'm not going. They'll have called the Ministry before I'm through the front door.'

'Don't be stupid, Granger. I'm not going to tell them that you're with me. We'll apparate directly into my bedroom and you can stay there.' He raised an eyebrow. 'They never come into my private space. So you'll be fine.'

'Can you even apparate? Will I be able to get through the wards? I've heard some very unsavory things about the old families and their blood wards.'

'You'll be fine as long as you're with me. And I can apparate, although not legally. I didn't think you would be too concerned about that seeing as you're on the run from the law, and you just stupefied a number of ministry officials.' He was smiling thinly at her and Hermione thought he was taking all of this madness remarkably in his stride.

'You are too now. You've aided and abetted me,' she replied.

'In that case I definitely need to see my parents. I'll tell them you hypnotised me with your feminine wiles,' he smirked.

'I don't know,' She chewed her bottom lip. 'I don't actually have any better suggestions. Won't that be the first place they'll look?'

'The wards at Malfoy Manor can keep almost anyone out. No one can get in unless we want them to,' he said confidently.

'I don't want to cause any more trouble for you, or your parents.'

He nodded, his expression turning grave. 'Look, Granger. Before we go, there isn't anything you want to come clean about, is there? Something that might have caught up with you in the time between us getting into the carriage this morning, and finding that poster this afternoon?' His voice was soft and soothing and Hermione realised with a jolt that she trusted him, and he was trusting her.

'I promise Draco. I have no idea what this is about.' He looked into her eyes a moment longer than was comfortable, before nodding and taking her hand.

'Let's go then.' With that, he twirled gracefully on the spot, bringing her with him in a flurry of robes as they landed smoothly in front of the largest four poster bed Hermione had ever laid eyes on.

Hermione promptly toppled forwards onto bed, disorientated by the unfamiliar dependence of side-along Apparition. She landed on her stomach, limbs akimbo, quickly rolling over and smoothing her skirt. She brought a hand to her forehead which was cold with sweat and gripped her temples as she breathed in and out deeply counting to four, then seven, four then seven.

'Granger,' Malfoy hadn't moved from where he had landed at the end of the bed. He had not fallen over. 'Are you alright? You're very...grey.'

'I haven't been feeling great since we were in the Department of Mysteries,' she responded, trying not to let her irritation leak into her tone. 'Discovering you're a criminal will do that, I think.'

'I can get you something. More pepper-up potion or…' he trailed off. 'I don't know. I don't know anything about healing.'

'I'll be OK in a minute. A glass of water if you wouldn't mind.' Hermione pulled herself up as he conjured a full glass and held it out to her.

The silence was broken only by Hermione's audible gulping as she drank and Draco began to pace what must have been a familiar route for him across the rug in front of his fireplace. The room was beautiful, heavy blue and black fabrics setting off dark wood floors and lit by floor to ceiling windows looking over the impressive grounds.

'That man,' Draco started, 'at the ministry. Dolohov. I recognised him. He's an acquaintance of my father's.'

'I was wondering-,' Hermione began.

'But Granger,' he interrupted. 'As far as I was aware he's serving a life sentence in Azkaban at the moment. I have no idea how he was strutting about the Ministry.'

'A life sentence?' she asked. 'For what?'

'He,' Draco paused in his pacing, shifting his weight awkwardly and avoiding her eyes. 'He tortured some Muggles using the Cruciatus a few years before I was born.'

Hermione gaped. 'So how has he been released?' Users of the unforgivable curses had no chance of parole once convicted.

'That's just it,' Draco agreed. 'And it's not the only thing. Umbridge, she's unpleasant. But I've never heard her use that word before. And then there's you. And Harry. And it all got very weird since we left the time room. I can't help but think-,'

'Don't be stupid Draco. We haven't time travelled.'

'No,' he agreed. 'I don't think we have. I think we might have shifted somehow. Into a different world.' He looked up at her, his fingers running through his hair in agitation.

'But…' Hermione had no response. Her mind returned to the sound of her heartbeat in her ears as she was pulled in by the hypnotic red light of the thread she had found herself in front of in the time room, entranced.

He paused in front of the fireplace, his eyes catching on the photographs decorating the mantel-piece at eye level.

'And this,' his voice was quite barely a whisper but panic had saturated both syllables. 'This is Crabbe! I don't have any pictures with-.'

He was cut off by the violent ricochet of the door off the wall as it was thrown open from the other side. Draco's wand was yanked from his hand by a silent disarming spell before he had raised it from his side. Draco and Hermione watched as the wand flew gracefully through the air landing in the long, outstretched fingers of the familiar pale-haired man framed in the doorway. Before Hermione could draw breath, Draco had crumpled to the rug unconscious, the result of a Stupefy cast from his own wand.