50 kilometers west of Aberdeen - Uninhabitable zone
October 11, 2006
Two days passed and Draco only saw flashes of his host. She ensured he remained fed, instructed him on how to use a shower, and provided some additional, if still unacceptable, clothing but otherwise remained in her infernal lab or was out in the wilderness. He couldn't decide how he felt about this. A part of him was relieved; whenever they spoke, she seemed determined to upend his entire world view. Though he had come to realize this assessment wasn't quite fair – she wasn't malicious and did not seem particularly concerned with whether he even believed her. She was simply being direct.
Around sundown she came out of the kitchen, holding two plates with steam coming off of them. He sniffed and shrugged, not quite recognizing the smell. "It's Salisbury steak, steamed carrots, and mashed potatoes," she explained. "You'll have to start getting used to TV meals – the majority of my food is frozen and we went through the perishables rather quickly."
"TV meal?" His mind ran through the Non-Magicals for Dummies book before he frowned, the phrase still meaningless.
"Basically, they make meals that are then frozen. All you have to do is microwave it. We call them TV meals because the idea is to throw it in the microwave for a few minutes then you can eat it in front of the TV," she explained.
She sat on the other side of the coffee table and began eating her food as he looked at her expectantly – two days of nothing and then suddenly here she was. "What?" she asked.
"Where have you been?" he blurted out.
"Oh," she said softly. She took another bite, chewing slowly before pausing to answer. "I'm currently working on a number of rather," she paused again, "volatile experiments. They required my utmost attention over the last 48 hours."
"Oh." He exhaled, "I thought I had – said something or done something offensive."
She chuckled. "My apologies, I live alone. I'm not used to talking to other people, let alone living with someone else. I didn't even think to say anything…" She shook her head, appearing embarrassed.
It was so normal, Draco thought – embarrassment. He studied the woman in front of him. She was this imperturbable figure but when it came to social interactions, suddenly she was flustered, unsure what to do. "It's fine," he replied. She appeared to have recovered, back to focusing on her food.
"Have you been alright?" she asked.
He considered this. He had started to look through Hermione's books – there were a few Muggle ones he was able to understand. It quelled his boredom, but restlessness was still kicking in. The large windows helped – but the air felt irrationally stale and the urge to leave was beginning to settle in.
"OK," he responded with a shrug.
"Cabin fever?" she asked with a knowing glint in her eye.
He wasn't exactly familiar with the phrase but contextually suspected what she was referring to. "If you mean I would give anything to go outside – yes. But," he paused, recollecting her coming and going that afternoon in thick plastic covering her entire body, "I believe you're telling the truth about the air outside being poison."
She smiled and nodded and he felt like he passed some odd test. "Would you be up for watching a movie?" she asked, eyes alight. He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows, and she clarified further. "It's something we watch on the TV – like a fictional play," she tried to explain. "I don't know how to describe it! Are you willing to watch it anyway?"
What the hell, he thought and nodded, feeling a warmth in his stomach when she practically beamed at him. She moved towards the TV and dug through a cabinet he didn't realize was beneath it. She pulled a black rectangle out and put it into something else. A flick with the remote and suddenly the plastic box, TV he reminded himself, lit up. She came over and gave him a look, her hands waving towards the side of the couch. He moved over, practically hugging the right side of the two person loveseat.
"This," she explained, "is Star Wars."
The movie started and at first, Draco was confused. He kept asking Hermione questions: Why are they in space? What's a spaceship? Have Muggles gone to space? But other than confirming that this was entirely fictional and had no basis in reality, she shushed him and told him to just watch the movie!
When it was over, he was surprised and a little embarrassed to find he had enjoyed himself. "Did the person who made this movie know about magic?" he asked.
Hermione shrugged, "I assume not – but I have no actual knowledge on the matter. He was an American – and as far as I'm aware, we haven't heard from anyone in America since the founding of the WEA."
"The force – it reminds me of magic," he said thoughtfully.
"Really?" she asked, and he could practically see the moment she went from 'relaxed' to 'inquisitive.'
"I mean – Jedi are simply people with the ability to wield the force. Not unlike wizards, who are able to wield magic." He shrugged, believing the connection to be obvious.
"I never thought about it like that," she said, humming softly. "If you like this movie, there are two more like it."
"Really?" he asked, thoughtful, "How many movies are there?"
"Oh," her eyes were wide now, "hundreds, probably thousands worldwide. I'm not sure if any movies have been made since the Event, but the film industry was quite active beforehand."
"This is what muggles do? Eat TV dinner and watch movies?" He said it critically but admitted in his head it was rather enjoyable. Life as a Death Eater was all about purpose – they typically weren't permitted the opportunity to take part in activities exclusively for entertainment.
"Well – not so much anymore," she said sadly. "A lot of people don't have access to regular power. I'm lucky – I have solar panels as well as a generator."
"Aren't you – lonely here?" he asked. In the two days he was left alone he was desperate for interaction. It had been bugging him since he first arrived – he didn't understand Muggles, but everything he knew had led him to believe they were social creatures.
She shrugged, "Not really."
"Really?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. "I've only been away from home for – five days maybe? But I desperately miss my friends."
"So why did you leave?" She looked notably uncomfortable and attempted to change the subject.
"I had my reasons." He turned to her, now more curious than he was before. "So, you just – live out here alone? No friends, family?" She was still now, and he knew he must have struck a nerve. It was oddly satisfying to know she wasn't unflappable, so he kept going, "That's hard to believe. I mean – you seem a bit grating, but I'm sure there's someone out there."
"I don't really have friends, alright?" she said abruptly before shaking herself. "I've always been – well, better with books and learning than with people. Friends would come and go I guess."
"So – there's no one you miss?" he asked, admittedly sad for her.
"Well – I miss my wizard mentor," she said and immediately winced.
"Wizard mentor?" He looked at her with interest.
"Yes – the Corps is a force made up of the magical and non-magical. As a non-magical, to become an Officer you have to spend a rotation with a witch or wizard. And vice versa." Hermione gave a textbook explanation.
"And you were close with yours?" he asked curiously, head tilted towards her.
She shrugged. "He was – kind. And he thought my love of books was brilliant, and while he didn't necessarily have a scientific mind so to speak, it was always enjoyable discussing such matters with him nonetheless." She paused, debating whether to continue. But Draco's eyes didn't look particularly judgmental, and she had to admit it was a bit cathartic to have someone to talk to. "He didn't care that I was 'grating' as you call it or that I was socially awkward and rarely said the right thing."
"What about family?" he asked, his eyes naturally moving towards the single small photo that hung on the wall.
She followed his gaze and, surprising him, got up and grabbed the photo, holding it close and rubbing her thumb against the images delicately. "My – parents – died. And I don't have any other family." She showed him the image, and he realized that the little girl was her along with her parents.
"I'm sorry," he said, his soft tone surprising him a little. "I, uh, my mother died in childbirth with me. So, I don't exactly know how you feel but I guess I understand a little." He looked away from her and unconsciously rubbed at his right shoulder.
She nodded, slightly taken aback by the admission. "My parents died in a car accident. It was – right around the Event," she explained. "I didn't get the opportunity to bury them or really mourn. One day the world was normal and suddenly, I had no parents and it was chaos."
"What did you do?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I was taken in by some family friends in Cambridge. They let me stay with them until I was 18 and joined the Corps."
"Do you miss them? Your family friends?"
She thought about it for a moment, almost as if she had never really considered it, "They were decent – I guess. To me at least," she started. "But they weren't my people. I had a roof over my head and food in my stomach which in that time was a blessing.
"But," she paused now looking down at her picture."I don't really remember my parents much - glimpses of moments, emotions really. But I recall a feeling of love. And the people who took me in – it was out of obligation. Which they made clear." She shrugged.
He wanted to not care but, looking down at her picture, he found himself even more curious. "How old were you when they died?"
"I was ten." She looked surprised by the question and watched his face wrinkle slightly in confusion. "What is it?"
"Isn't that odd? That you don't remember them?" he asked.
"I was in the car accident that killed my parents; the doctors believed the trauma of the incident resulted in my poor ability to retain memories from before the accident," she explained clinically, as though she were not speaking her own mind.
As expected when she spouted science, he didn't understand her and found himself nodding dumbly. He wondered what that was like, being in a car accident, but had the wherewithal not to ask.
They were silent for a few minutes before she questioned, "Do you have family you miss?"
He thought about his father for a moment and shook his head. "My father is still around," he confirmed. "But – I don't exactly miss him."
"How come?"
"My father," he paused, "is not the warmest man. He cares for me, I'm sure, but he raised me to be a soldier."
"Why?" she asked. "What are you fighting?"
"We always have to be prepared to defend ourselves," he explained. Hermione noted that he continued to speak of his association with the Death Eaters in the present tense.
"Against whom?" Her brows were furrowed and she appeared incredulous.
"Before the Event the wizarding world was at war," he explained. She nodded, already aware of this, and he continued, "That kind of war doesn't just – end. We're in a cease fire of sorts at the moment."
"You really think that the rest of the magicals are going to come after you?" she asked.
He shrugged. "When we claimed Hogwarts, a lot of witches and wizards were not happy. We believe, once the world settles down, they'll come for it."
"It's just a school," Hermione mumbled, confused.
Draco smirked, "Hogwarts has always been more than a school – in a lot of ways, it's the epicenter for British magic. It's the reason we were willing to lay down arms in the first place. Because for us, claiming Hogwarts was a victory."
Hermione nodded, though she still didn't quite understand. "If there is one thing this world has taught me, it's that places, even people, are impermanent."
"I'm not sure everyone is quite as enlightened as you," he drawled.
"So – that's what the Death Eaters are up to? Hanging around an old castle preparing for war?" she asked.
"I mean, that's incredibly over simplified. And we have no intention to go to war – we are simply ensuring we're able to defend ourselves," he corrected her, though from the look on her face he didn't think she quite appreciated the nuance. "Why? What did you think we did?"
"Oh," she paused, considering. "I mean, I guess I never really thought of you all doing anything so to speak. I just assumed Voldemort took all the girls as wives in the name of "pureblood" continuity and the rest of you were eunuchs."
He coughed, "What?"
"In my limited research into cults, that's typically the modus operandi." She shrugged.
"What's a cult?"
"A cult is usually a religious faction that's so extreme as to not be accepted by the mainstream. I guess the Death Eaters aren't a cult, in that there's no religious element to it. But if you substitute "political" for "religious" you get the right result." As typical, her clinical explanation left him speechless.
"And what's a eunuch?" Draco asked, legitimately curious.
She laughed slightly. "It's uh..." she paused, her finger covering her mouth as she tried to find a delicate way to explain, "it's a man whose manhood has been removed."
His eyes bulged, "I'm sorry – are you saying their…is just…cut off?" He cringed.
Hermione nodded. "It was a somewhat common practice among older civilizations' kings and emperors to ensure the – focus – of one's soldiers and the faithfulness of their most trusted advisors. I was saying it to be facetious, but in many cults throughout history the cult leader would require all other men to remain celibate," she explained.
"Well there are no such – requirements of us," he said, shaking himself out of his thoughts.
"Glad to hear it?" she responded lightly.
"So - is this how people see us, then?" he asked, incredulous.
"Well – yeah. I mean, to be honest, I don't think most people even think of you all." She shrugged.
"But you do?" he ventured.
"I find magical society to be utterly fascinating," she explained.
"Why?"
"I'm a scientist," she stated, as if this was a sufficient explanation. He looked at her expectantly and she continued, "I work within a series of well documented parameters – rules if you will. The laws of physics, for example, tell us how to expect objects and matter to behave.
"When we learned about magic, we learned that many of our fundamental assumptions about the universe were wrong. This is why the religious fundamentalists were so outraged."
He interrupted, "So were you angry?"
"Well – I wasn't a scientist at the time," she reminded him, "but I like to think I would have been intrigued. I prefer to solve the puzzle rather than have the answers handed to me. The existence of magic just makes my job that much more interesting. What is magic exactly? Is it like the force? Some unseen thing? Can it be calculated? How do wands manipulate it?"
"You think magic can be explained through science?" he asked skeptically.
"Clarke's Third Law – any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic," she parroted automatically.
Draco didn't know who this Clarke was, but he found the phrase didn't make sense, "But magic isn't technology. It isn't something your science can explain."
"I know that," she said calmly. "The point of Clarke's Third Law is more to remind us that just because we don't understand the science or reasoning behind something doesn't mean that there isn't science or reasoning!"
He paused, frowning. "So you think you can uncover – what makes magic work?"
"Well – I doubt I can uncover that. All I'm saying is that magic is intriguing," she finished.
He paused, looking at her. "You're very unnerving," he told her.
"You're not the first to tell me that," she admitted. A moment of silence spread between them before Hermione turned back to Draco. "It's getting late. I should warn you – you'll likely not see much of me over the next few days."
"However will I survive?" he mumbled sarcastically.
She rolled her eyes. "Please feel free to watch TV or read whatever." And like that, she was gone, once again leaving Draco behind with a headache and a growing feeling of uncertainty.
A/N: Thank you as always to my Beta ElizColl.
Thank you to all who are reading and reviewing - it is much appreciated.