A/N: This chapter takes place on the same day as the last chapter...
50 km west of Aberdeen
October 24, 2006
Three days had passed since Hermione's explosive revelation. After her eerily calm pronouncement 'It seems I am a witch,' she seemed to revert back to the devoted scientist she was when Draco first met her. Their interactions were once again limited to cordial greetings and ensuring Draco was properly fed.
Draco was – unnerved. He knew that the next supply run would be there in two days and he would be expected to leave with it. He had tried to talk to her, but each time she had politely claimed to be 'mid-experiment' or otherwise unavailable.
Draco had, however, noticed on the second day 'post explosion' that his magic seemed to be returning. It was difficult, but he was able to perform a few easy wandless spells, which filled him with immense relief.
Hermione herself was trying to make sense of her new reality. The theory that she was a witch was proven correct. This meant that someone, or something, somehow bound her magic. Although, in the interest of opening herself up to all possibilities, she had to consider maybe she herself did something to cause her magic to disappear.
She tried as hard as she could not to look back. It didn't matter what had happened before; she needed to move forward. She couldn't redo the last 17 years, and it was useless to consider what her life would have been like had she known. But she could make decisions going forward with this newfound knowledge.
With that in mind, and determined to form a course of action based on logic and not emotion, she began planning. She knew she needed to leave – she wouldn't find answers stuck here in the middle of the uninhabitable zone. But this begged the question – would the Corps let her go?
She still didn't know precisely why they sent her out there or who was involved. It was possible any request for reassignment would be denied.
Then, assuming she was somehow able to get to Aberdeen, she needed to find someone who could give her answers. Her mind went first to her wizard mentor, but she was afraid she couldn't trust him. But she couldn't think of anyone else to approach, so she needed to find a way to get him to talk to her.
In the back of her mind was the elephant in the room – Draco Malfoy. In the days since her revelation, she struggled to decide what to do about him. He continued to perplex her. Ever since she remembered that woman and her dark mark, she had purposefully kept her distance from the man.
The memory made her realize something - she had been considering the Death Eaters an academic anomaly - a study, so to speak, into a faction of the wizarding world who deemed themselves superior. But the memory of what those people did to her parents, as vague and short as it was, shook her to her core. She had been completely helpless - the sight of her parents' terror and the horror of their screams echoed in her head, and she had been unable to prevent it from happening. She had been a small child, paralyzed with fright, and in one horrible moment, the course of her life had changed.
And she still didn't know the whole story - beyond the short glimpse she caught, there was still the question of how she got out and what ultimately happened to her parents. It was unsettling.
She realized she had been overtly theoretical in her assessment of the Death Eaters. Now she considered Draco, and forced herself to acknowledge that he wasn't just some cult member - he was one of them.
She knew, rationally speaking, she couldn't trust him. Still, a part of her couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship. He had helped her – though it remained to be seen if he did it for purely altruistic reasons. Without him, she would still be obliviously minding her experiments, unaware of the truth. She felt, right or wrong, a sense of obligation to him.
And of course, she couldn't escape the new found reality that she was in fact a witch. After believing herself to be non-magical for 27 years, suddenly she was reclassified. She realized, irrationally, that this nullified her Corps officer certification! She wondered for a fleeting moment if they would require her to retrain as a magical. But the reality of the situation dawned on her, and she realized she didn't even know where she stood with the Corps anymore. What would they do if they found out what she had learned?
And what, besides knowing she was a witch, had she learned? The two people who had attacked her parents were clearly Death Eaters. While the memory was obviously critical, it did not paint the whole picture. And after the mere glimpses she saw, she was reluctant to try and remember more.
No, she needed to find answers. And preferably without the Corps knowing what she knew. And, she realized, if she had any chance of getting out of the uninhabitable zone, she would need Draco Malfoy's help. So, after three days of considering alternatives and forcing herself to identify each and every reason she needed to be absolutely careful around Draco Malfoy, she finally talked to him.
"Hello, Malfoy," she said, placing her chair in its usual spot and sitting across from him, as though she hadn't just ignored him for three days.
"Granger," he greeted, his brows furrowed. He placed his book down and looked up, seeing her face marked by determination.
"I've been thinking," she started, "and I need your help."
"What?" he replied dumbly.
She paused, considering what and how much to say. She wouldn't tell him about the Death Eaters she saw in her memory – not until she had more information. "I need to leave here and find answers. And while I don't fully trust you," he looked moderately offended by this, "I need an ally."
"So, you don't trust me, but you want me to be your ally? Why should I trust you?" Draco leaned forward, arms crossed over his chest.
"I've given this some thought," she started methodically. "If you leave here and go to Aberdeen, you will likely find yourself in interrogations for quite some time. There is no guarantee they'll give you your wand back. Even if they give you sanctuary, you will likely be the subject of extensive scrutiny and lack the basic liberties and freedoms most citizens enjoy. Purely in virtue of you being, for lack of a better term, a foreign agent.
"That, of course, is a positive scenario. As far as I'm aware, there is no formal treaty between the WEA and the Death Eaters, in spite of the Death Eaters sovereign land being bordered by the WEA on all sides. This means that technically, the WEA has no obligation to treat you in any specific way. They could put you in a prison to rot, or possibly just send you back to the Death Eaters.
"My point, Malfoy, is that if you want your fate to stay in your own hands, I'm your best bet," she said confidently.
"What do you propose?" he drawled.
"The supply run usually consists of two non-magical corps officers. But since they're expecting to bring you back with them, they might send a magical or two from Aberdeen as well. I believe the magicals in Aberdeen are fairly young – and not all that powerful, meaning they should be reasonably easy to subdue." She stopped and looked at him. His eyes were open wide.
Malfoy blinked. "You want to subdue them?"
"I want to Imperius them," she explained, holding up a book.
'Olde Magic,' he read, visibly shivering just looking at it. "Just to clarify, you want me to teach you the Imperius curse?" Malfoy looked incredibly dubious.
She paused, unsure if she should share this next part with him but aware it was critical if her plan had any hope of succeeding. "The lab results from my blood test indicate I have an atypically high concentration of the proteins associated with magical ability. Now, the data I have is by no means conclusive, but based on this information, as well as the – incident – from three days ago, I believe I am unusually powerful," she finished succinctly, as if she wasn't claiming anything of import.
Draco blinked at her. He didn't necessarily doubt her claims – he had witnessed her bout of wandless, wordless magic first hand. But they weren't talking about her being able to simply stun someone. She was suggesting they place the Imperius curse on four people – two of whom would likely be wizards!
"Granger, I don't think you understand the Imperius curse – most witches and wizards are never able to fully control one person let alone four. I don't care how powerful you are; there's no way I can teach you in two days how to do something that I've never seen done!" he exclaimed.
Her face fell. "Well, what do you propose?" she asked.
"Well..." He appeared momentarily contemplative. "What if, when they arrive, you indicate you plan to leave, too. What would they do?"
Hermione frowned. "I assume they would call my Captain to get his approval."
"And then what?" Draco asked.
Hermione shrugged. "It would depend on if the Captain has been made aware of my situation. Presumably, if he's 'in the know,' so to speak, then he would likely refuse and tell me to stay put. If he's unaware, then I assume he would permit it." She thought for a moment then added, "Of course – there's also the possibility he's unaware but has been told by someone higher up that I'm not permitted to leave. So, I believe requesting leave upon their arrival is a dangerous course of action."
"That makes sense – I agree. What if you were sick?" Draco asked.
Hermione looked thoughtful. "Oh," she started, "long term acute radiation sickness!" She snapped her fingers in realization.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"It's well known that long term limited exposure to magical radiation zones can cause long term acute radiation sickness. It's like what you went through, only a more drawn out sickness that typically ends in death. But if we could find a way to fake test results to show that I'm suffering from it, I don't think the Corps would say no. The WEA bylaws include strict provisions on human rights. If I tell the Captain I need shore leave and he says no, I can escalate the matter."
"But you're trapped out here. Without making it to Aberdeen, how would you escalate it?" He was confused.
She smiled. "I have a satellite phone. I've never done it, but I could use it to call my WEA rep or a local media source. Can you imagine the headline? 'Corps Leaves Scientist to Die in Uninhabitable Zone'?"
"Ok, so you'll find a way to falsify this radiation thing," Draco confirmed. "Then, once we get to a habitable area, we can make our escape? At that point, you can stun people and we can run."
Hermione frowned. "It will be risky. Also once we're out of the uninhabitable zone, satellites can track offensive spells, meaning they would know we had used stunning spells and they would be able to locate where we used them."
Draco was beginning to think this sounded like an impossible plan, when Hermione interrupted his musings. "The other issue is your wand," she stated.
He looked somewhat contrite. "About that..."
"Your powers have returned," she cut in before he could say anything.
He frowned. "How did you know?"
"It was your theory that the spell binding my magic was what made yours disappear. I assumed you would have told me eventually?" she asked with her eyebrows raised.
He nodded. "Of course. I would have told you two days ago when I started to notice them, but you refused to speak with me."
She looked chagrined as she nodded. "So your magic is back?"
He bobbed his head left to right. "Not quite – but I've felt it returning slowly. Hopefully I'll be close to full power by the time we implement this plan."
"Agreed."
"But regarding the wand," Draco refocused the conversation, "I should be able to transfigure another item into a perfect replica of it. Then, we can simply transfigure the actual wand into something that would be reasonable for one of us to be carrying. Perhaps into a book." He looked at her.
She appeared skeptical. "But won't the magicals check for subterfuge?"
He shrugged. "From me perhaps, but let's hope that they don't expect it from you."
"This is a fairly risky plan," she commented. "And then of course we'll need to figure out what to do once we get to Aberdeen."
"Let's take it one step at a time," Draco said, his voice calm and reassuring.
Hermione gazed at him, appreciative yet skeptical of his help. But she had made her decision; they would be allies. For now.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Draco asked after a rather poignant silence.
She didn't need him to elaborate; she knew he was asking about the memory she saw. And while on some visceral level she really did want to talk to him about it, she knew she shouldn't. And the fact that he had voluntarily brought it up only further raised her suspicion of him.
"We don't have time," she told him. She darted into her lab and returned with his wand, holding it out to him. "We have two days before the supply run arrives and we make our escape. I need you to teach me as much as you can in two days. And I need you to somehow get back your full powers and be ready to fight."
As Draco took back his wand, they both felt something shift between them. For better or worse, they were leaving that place - together.
London
October 24, 2006
Harry returned home that night, shaken by the day's events. The conversation with Ginny kept replaying in his head, like watching a cringeworthy scene in a movie on repeat. He had known something was developing between them - something he should have acknowledged or at least considered before. But until the prospect of her leaving was staring him in the face, he had blissfully ignored the matter.
He walked into his apartment and found Daphne sitting on the couch, playing with her fingers nervously. While he didn't agree wholly with Ginny's assessment of him, she was right in that what he did was unfair to Daphne. If nothing else, they had always been honest with each other.
"I need to talk to you," they both said at the same time, relieving some of the tension that thickened the air. Harry chuckled lightly, then sat down next to Daphne, grabbing her hand to keep from fidgeting.
"You first," she insisted.
"Well," he started, "apparently they found whoever tried to kill me."
She looked taken aback. "Really?"
"Yeah." He rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to alleviate the growing pressure there. "Apparently it was some French terrorist. So, uh, Ginny told me, and she's been reassigned obviously," he mumbled, staring at the floor.
She squeezed his hand and urged him to look at her. "Did something happen?"
"I kissed her," he told Daphne, unwilling to look her in the face.
"I figured," she murmured. Harry's eyes rose and he stared at her. She explained, "I could tell there was something between you two. I'm sure if you're truly honest with yourself, you'll agree."
Harry found himself fighting back tears as he nodded. "Daphne, I'm sorry. It's just – I don't know when it happened, but suddenly today when she said she would be reassigned, I realized –"
"That you felt for her?" Daphne finished for him with a small smile. She sniffled and used both of her hands to grasp Harry's. "Harry," she paused, "I love you. You are my best friend – but I've always known that you wanted more than that from life. Hell, I want more than that." She tearfully told him, "I think it's time we end this."
Harry shook his head. "But what about you?"
Daphne scoffed, "Harry Potter – for once in your life stop thinking about me. I'll be OK."
He gave her a half smile and shook his head. "I've made a right mess of everything." At her curious look, he gave her a run-down of his earlier encounter with Ginny.
She smacked him upside the head. "You're an idiot."
He scoffed, "Well – I know that, but why?"
"We have an 'understanding'? What are we – 18th century nobles? No wonder she flipped out at you." She chuckled.
"What do I do, Daph?"
Daphne looked at her now ex-fiancée and considered this new facet of their relationship. "You give her some space. Then, when an appropriate amount of time has passed, you beg for forgiveness."
"We're still going to be OK, you and me, right?" he pleaded.
"Of course." She smiled warmly.
"So," Harry asked, "what did you have to tell me?"
"Oh. That." She was suddenly nervous again. "It's a bit of a long tale."
"What happened?"
"Long story short, my father has arranged for Astoria to marry a Death Eater."
Harry blinked once, twice, then physically pinched himself before responding. "Sorry, I was just trying to get myself to wake up, because surely this isn't real. Your father, who calls himself my greatest supporter, has arranged for your sister to marry a Death Eater?"
She nodded, swallowing the imaginary lump in her throat. "Yes."
"Why?"
"I've not confronted him, as Astoria has sworn me to secrecy. As far as the public is aware, she will be marrying into a reclusive family in Germany. But Tori says that Voldemort has somehow convinced father that he has the ability to solve the birth rate issue."
"And Anton BELIEVED HIM?!" Harry shouted, in a way that reminded Daphne of her own conversation with Astoria. His eyes were wild and he pushed his hands through his hair, clearly exasperated.
"I don't know." Daphne shook her head. "I feel like I'm surrounded by half-truths and feints these days. Astoria has chosen to be optimistic and would not accept a way out. I'm forced to hope that my father, ever the pragmatist, has not simply sold my sister off and indeed has some sort of plan."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Harry frowned. "What if your father does have a plan? And we're all just pawns in it?" Fear rose in the pit of Daphne's stomach, and she did what she could to shake it off. "When does she leave?" Harry asked.
"In two days," Daphne whispered.
"Oh, Daph." Harry gulped and held her, his mind trying to make sense of everything. It was like trying to solve a puzzle but only having half the pieces. "Do you know who she's marrying?"
She shrugged. "Some Death Eater named Draco Malfoy."
A/N: So...who called it?
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Wednesday's update will bring us to the end of Part 1.