Chapter 2
In his wildest dreams, Harry could never have imagined a more bizarre situation. Here he is, standing across from Draco Malfoy in a random muggle hotel room, thinking of leaving the country with only a boy he despises for company.
On second thought, when do my school years ever start out normal?
"So, what did Severus say to get the gilded hero to want to run with his tail tucked between his legs?" Draco asks, breaking the awkward silence. His typical smug smirk is stamped onto his pointy face.
It's all Harry can do not to step forward and punch him. If it wasn't for the relief that Draco has to ask the question at all, he might have done exactly that. After all, if he needs to ask, that means Snape never told him, and Harry would prefer that nobodyknows that there's a part of Voldemort living inside him. But relief isn't enough to stop him from arguing back.
"Takes one to know one. I shouldn't be surprised that you're here. Even with your entire family involved, you're still too much of a coward to fight for your beliefs."
For a very brief second, Draco looks surprised. Then he snarls, showing white teeth behind pulled back lips. His wand drops into his hand out of a holster kept on his forearm. "You don't know what you're on about," he hisses.
As always, Draco is happy to dish out the insults, but when it comes to taking them, he loses control. "And neither do you," Harry snaps back. "Now put that away before you do something that'll get us caught before we even decide where we're going."
Draco glares, but with a huff he lifts his sleeve and snaps the wand back into his holster. Even angry, Draco isn't stupid. Magic is utterly out of the question for both of them. They both still have the trace, so even the most minor spell will make their escape all but impossible.
Harry sits back on the bed, letting his head drop backwards in frustration. "I can't believe I'm stuck with you," he groans.
"Believe it or not, this isn't a dream come true for me, either."
Neither of them wants to admit the truth out loud. They need to find a way to work together, and they're both too stubborn to listen to the other after years of rivalry.
One of us has to give in first…
It might as well be him. Merlin knows it'll be a miracle if he can get Draco to listen to him. "It won't be long before people notice we're gone, so we need to make a plan," Harry says. He takes a deep breath before he continues. "Do youhave any ideas?"
Draco's eyes open wide, as if he can't believe that Harry is actually asking for his opinion. Not that it would ever happen, but Harry would be just as surprised if Draco had done the same thing.
"Well, obviously we can't stay in Britain. Even if we lived as muggles in the middle of nowhere there would be too great a chance of discovery. If we did something like that, we'd have to live like muggles, and I will notlive like a muggle, and I'm not giving up my education," Draco says firmly.
Harry rolls his eyes, more at Draco's petulance than because he disagrees. "Obviously," Harry says. "I don't want to live like a muggle, either."
Or can't afford to. Not if I want to learn enough to defeat Voldemort for good.
Malfoy's lips twist back into a smirk, and Harry knows even before he speaks that he's about to insult him. "What would Dumbledore think if knew that his prized golden boy wasn't the champion of muggles like he is?"
There would normally be no chance that Harry can ignore a taunt from the blonde, but right now, Dumbledore would be almost the last person he would want to defend.
Draco looks deflated when Harry continues on as if he hadn't said anything at all. "So Britain is out of the question, but we still need to learn magic. What about Durmstrang or Beauxbatons?"
Draco shakes his head. "The Dark Lord has contacts at both. Hell, they found Karkaroff a few days ago based on information coming out of Durmstrang, so how long would welast? I think all of Europe might be out of the question. There's no telling how far his influence reaches."
All of Europe? If it wasn't coming out of the mouth of someone so connected to the Death Eaters, Harry would never believe it. How can someone so twisted and evil have so many followers?
Harry sighs. "So that already takes out three of the best wizarding schools in the world."
Draco wags a finger. "But not all the wizarding schools. They might be the best in Europe, but there are eleven major wizarding schools throughout the world, and only three of them are completely out of the question."
There are eleven? Far from the first time, Harry curses his muggle upbringing. If Draco weren't here, Harry might easily have gone to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. Draco's presence simply fills a void of knowledge that Harry has about the wizarding world.
"Or maybe you could say fourare out of the question," Draco adds after a moment. "Koldovstoretz is still technically in Europe, though I'd say Russia is far enough away to be out of the Dark Lord's reach."
"Then why is it out of the question?"
"I can barely handle the winters at Hogwarts, let alone in Russia," Draco says.
Harry gives him a look.
Draco shrugs. "What? I don't like the cold. Anyway, there are better schools out there than Koldovstoretz."
Harry stops himself from another eye roll. "Any others that we definitely can't go to?"
Draco taps his chin thoughtfully. "Ilvermorny in America might not be such a great idea. The British and American ministries have a strong relationship, so I highly doubt that our location would be a guaranteed secret."
Harry hates that he really has nothing to offer, and he has to completely defer to Draco's judgement. "You clearly know more about the other schools than I do," Harry admits, though it's difficult to admit any sort of weakness to Malfoy of all people. "I think you should pick where we go."
Draco makes a sort of choking noise, but recovers himself. "Yes, well," he says, looking away. "I think that would be best." If he's judging Harry on his lack of knowledge about the wizarding world, he doesn't say it.
"So of the six schools left open to us, where do you think we should go?"
"There's alot of good schools around the world, some of them older and with better reputations than Hogwarts, but I think the best would have to be Uagadou, in Uganda," Draco says. "It's definitely the biggest, and the oldest, too. I think if we went to the African ministry they might keep us a secret under the right of asylum."
The right of asylum?
"Um, right," Harry says. He's already admitted one gap in his knowledge to his longtime nemesis, and he's not about to admit another.
"So you're okay with going to Africa? It's a long way, and they may not speak much English. Merlin knows how we're even going to getthere," Draco says.
Harry shrugs. "Getting there is the easy part." He holds his passport up in front of him.
Malfoy looks down to the passport in his hands and begins turning it over. "What exactly are these? When did Severus take this picture of me? Why doesn't it move?"
Harry raises an eyebrow. "Because muggle photos don'tmove," Harry tries not to laugh. "And it's just a passport, Malfoy, nothing overly exciting."
"A passport?" He gives it an experimental flick. "Is this some of that muggle technology I've heard about? What's it do?"
"Allow you to pass ports?Honestly, Malfoy, it's just identification muggles use to travel between countries."
"Why would I need-" Draco very suddenly blanches. "Severus expects me to travel like a muggle, doesn't he."
Harry wouldn't have thought that Draco's pale skin could get any whiter. Evidently, he was wrong. Harry starts to laugh before covering it with a cough. Draco glares.
"We could always go by broomstick?" Draco suggests in a quiet voice that makes Harry think he already knows it's not really an option.
"Sure, if you're feeling particularly suicidal." Both of them are strong fliers, and have some of the best brooms money can buy, but over such a distance, and across open ocean where the weather can change in a heartbeat? It's far too dangerous. Not to mention highly illegal. Even if it was a possibility, they'd have to go at night so as not to be seen by any muggles.
"So you consider a broom suicidal, but you're happy to get into one of those giant metal birds?" Draco asks, still looking so white he might as well be ethereal.
"It's called a plane, Malfoy, and you've got a greater chance of being in a car crash than a plane crash."
Malfoy crosses his arms firmly. "Well, you won't catch me getting into one of those, either."
Harry lets out a long breath. Malfoy certainly isn't going to make this easy.
"Can you slow down?" Draco yells from the back seat of the taxi. His knuckles are pure white from how hard he grips the door side hand rest. Harry is laughing, almost uncontrollably so. They're not even doing the speed limit, but he's never seen anyone look as terrified as what Malfoy does from riding in a slowly moving car.
In any other situation, Malfoy would undoubtably be defending his honour with vigour, especially since it's Harry who's laughing at him, but he seems unable to focus on anything but surviving his current 'plight.' Harry catches the confused eye of the driver in the rear-view mirror.
"Sorry about him," Harry says, struggling through his laughter. "He's led a very sheltered life." The driver shrugs, but doesn't say anything as he turns onto a roundabout, causing Draco to let out a very un-Malfoylike shriek and shut his eyes tight.
As they get closer to the airport, a large plane flies over the car towards the runway, the jet engine noise loud enough to silence Harry's laughing. "As if this isn't bad enough," Draco says once the noise has subsided, "now you want me to get in one of those?"
"We got to the airport easily enough, didn't we?" Harry asks. "Nothing to it."
"We're not actually there yet," Malfoy mumbles quietly, probably to himself. "This stupid box of metal on wheels could still go up in a ball of flames any second as far as I'm concerned."
As expected, that does not happen. The taxi driver drops them off at the airport entrance, and Draco practically leaps out the door when it comes to a complete stop. Harry pays the driver and steps calmly out of the taxi, moving to the back of the car and retrieving his and Draco's trunks.
"Are you sure Hedwig is fine in there?" Harry asks, motioning towards Draco's trunk.
Unlike Harry's very regular case, Draco's is upgraded with undetectable extension charms and expanded with wizarding space. It's also been charmed with anti-muggle detection spells.
"Aquila pretty much lives in there," Draco says. "It's never been a problem."
Such a pretentious name for an owl. Harry knows from his astronomy classes that Aquila is a constellation - something to do with an eagle.
"So now what?" Draco asks. "If we have to get on one of these bloody things, I'd rather get it over with."
Harry doesn't answer, he just drags his trunk behind him and steps inside, motioning for Draco to follow. Inside is a large board of incoming and outcoming flights.
"Where is the African ministry?" Harry asks, turning to Draco. He's not even slightly paying attention. Instead, he's gazing around the large room like he's found himself on an alien planet.
Harry waves a hand in front of his face. "Hey! Where is the African ministry?"
"Alexandria," he says simply, not even turning to look in his direction. Luckily, there is a flight to Alexandria leaving in just a few hours. Harry drags the bewildered Draco along to the desk for British Airways.
Harry is increasingly nervous as the clerk organizes their tickets and checks their passports. Snape had assured that they were official, but does Snape even know what that really means? Draco wouldn't even register as a citizen, having grown up totally in the wizarding world, so how on earth could he have a passport?
But the clerk waves them through, taking their bags and telling them that their flight leaves in a few hours and which gate they need to go to. Harry's only guess is that Snape must have confunded some sort of official in order to get their paperwork sorted.
"Can we really trust these muggles with our bags?" Draco asks as they walk towards the customs area.
"So long as yourbag definitely has anti-muggle charms, yes," Harry says. It seems enough of an answer for Draco.
When they find themselves in customs, Harry has to drag Draco aside. "You have to do whatever the customs people say, alright? No questions asked," Harry says firmly.
"Yes, yes, I know. You made that very clear when you forced me to put my wand in my trunk," Draco says irritably.
While Harry has never been in an airport before, it's common knowledge that airports have some of the strictest security in the world. They'd easily discover anything they have hidden on them, like a wand, or if they ended up going through their luggage, anything strange, like magical textbooks. Harry just hopes dearly that the charms on Malfoy's luggage hold even under muggle technology. Magic often behaves erratically around technology, so there's no real guarantee.
But nothing really holds them up going through customs. They both have to remove their belts and Draco an expensive watch, but the security lets them pass without any hassles. "I really thought you were going to argue when they made you take off that watch," Harry says.
Draco purses his lips. "If they hadn't given it back, I would have. My mother gave it to me." He says it with such longing in his voice that it's clear he doesn't really want to leave them behind.
Harry hesitates for a moment before speaking. Things are relatively peaceful between them at the moment, more peaceful than they've everbeen, really, but he's too curious not to ask what he wants to. "Malfoy, why are you here? What makes you want to leave?"
He looks up, and for a moment Harry thinks he's about to give an honest answer. Then he scowls. "Why are you?"
Translation - you first.
So Harry says nothing, and they continue further into the airport.
"This is not food," Draco argues loudly.
Deep breaths, Harry.
"What, you've never had a hamburger before?" Harry asks, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
He's trying desperately to be patient with him, since he's never ventured into the muggle world before, but if Draco complains any more Harry's not convinced he'll be accountable for his own actions. He doesn't mind the plethora of questions, but when every single one has undertones of utter disdain for muggles, they become more than a little tiresome.
"Oh, I've had hamburgers, but that's not what this is."
"It's a Big Mac, Malfoy, just eat it."
Malfoy eyes it warily, scanning it from all sides.
"That is definitely not real beef," he decides absolutely. "And it's crooked. How hard is it to stack ingredients on top of each other?"
Harry scoffs. "Says the guy who's probably never cooked a meal in his entire life."
Draco holds a hand to his chest in mock offence. "I'm wounded. I'll have you know that I'm a terrific cook. Everybody should know how to cook their own meal."
"Oh right," Harry says. "When was the last time you cooked for yourself instead of having a house elf do it for you?"
Draco purses his lips, but doesn't answer. In Harry's eyes, that's answer enough. Eventually, Draco takes a bite. He chews slowly, testing out the flavour. He examines the rest of it before taking another bite, this time far more confident.
Harry hides an amused smile behind his own meal. More than anything it makes him wish he were here with Ron, instead, introducing his best friend to something so very muggle. He's sure they'd have a great time of it. Even if this is currently entertaining, in the back of his mind he simply can't forget that this is Malfoyhe's with.
By the time they're finished eating, Draco seems to be feeling a range of different emotions, confusion chief among them. "I stand by that that is not proper beef," Draco maintains. "But it wasn't completelyawful. I just can't understand why."
"Most muggles tend not to question it," Harry says. Malfoy screws up his nose, presumably at the idea of being lumped in with muggles in any way at all.
"From now on, we eat regular food," Draco says, confirming Harry's suspicion. One minute he's saying that it wasn't terrible, the next he's refusing to eat it because its associated with muggles.
Harry grabs him by the wrist and drags him away. "Just come on."
The flight is still an hour off leaving, but Harry wanted to explore a little rather than wait at the gate, a decision he's very much regretting having had to drag Draco along with him.
"I thought you said that muggle pictures don't move," Draco asks, though it sounds more like he's accusing Harry of lying to him.
When Harry looks, he finds Draco staring at a TV situated on one of the walls. It's playing a continuous ad for one of the airline companies.
"They don't," Harry says. "That's a TV. It's a video, not a picture."
"What's the difference?"
"Believe it or not Malfoy, I'm not an expert on all things muggle. They're just different."
"But howare they different?"
Harry finally turns to face him directly. "Why do you even care?You've spent the last several years calling Hermione 'Mudblood' because you hate muggles so much, so why are you so interested?"
The words seem to take Malfoy by surprise. "I don't know…" he says, "I guess this is just not what I was expecting."
"What, you were expecting them to be uncultured, unintelligent animals? You thought they'd be huddled around fires and stewing in their own filth? Well guess what, Malfoy, muggles are aheadof wizards. I wouldn't live any other way than as a wizard, but stepping into Hogwarts was like stepping a hundred years into the past. Wizards are not as superior to muggles as what you think," Harry snaps.
Draco scoffs. "You can't possibly mean that. You know they used to burn us at the stake, right?"
Harry almost laughs out loud. "Three hundred yearsago, you twit. Things have changed quite a bit since then."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Malfoy says disbelievingly.
Harry waves his hands around him. "You areseeing it! Do you know why these airports have so much security? To stop anyone who might bring harm to the people of Britain from entering the country, and to protect other nations from anyone dangerous who might want to bring harm to them. In Alexandria, we'll find the exact same experience. Does that sound like the same sort of society that would burn people at the stake?"
Draco raises an eyebrow. "So there are so many dangerous muggles that they need that much security just to keep them out? You've basically just told me that they're exactlywhat I already thought."
"And there are no dangerous wizards? Voldemort is just, what, driven? The war is just a bit of a spat about ideology? Darkness exists in all humanity, Malfoy, not just muggles."
Malfoy doesn't seem to have anything to say to that, so Harry simply walks off in the direction of the gate. Malfoy follows behind without a word. Neither of them have anything to say to each other until the plane arrives and they're lining up to board, and Draco has to confront the fact that they're actually going to get in a plane.
"Is it going to fall out of the sky? What can I expect?" Harry laughs, but shrugs. Draco eyes him warily. "You have actually beenon one, haven't you?"
Harry smiles widely, not caring one whit about how frightened his travel companion now is. "Not even once."
Draco throws his hands in the air. "Oh, great. So for all you know we could be heading straight for our deaths."
"Yep," Harry says calmly. "Now give the nice lady your ticket."
Draco's hands are unsteady as he hands over the ticket to the older woman. She smiles sweetly at him and pats the top of his hand with her own. "Anxious flier? Not to worry dear, it's quite safe." Draco looks anything but comforted, nevertheless, he follows Harry down the airbridge to the plane itself.
The hum of the engine can be heard as soon as they step on board, and it doesn't look to do anything positive for Draco's nerves. By the time they find their seats on the left side of the plane, he's actually shaking.
"Relax, Malfoy. In six hours time we'll be in Alexandria," Harry says.
Draco looks up in alarm. "Six hours?"
Harry shrugs. "You didn't expect it to be as fast as a portkey, did you?"
"You expect me to stay in this metal tube for six hours?" He says, now almost yelling, and getting up from his seat.
A woman sitting in the centre aisle looks across sympathetically. "You poor thing. I used to hate flying myself, but there's really nothing to it. We'll be there safe and sound in no time, promise."
Draco barely even acknowledges that she said anything at all. The woman takes the hint and turns forwards again, but Draco's rudeness gives Harry an idea. "The scion of the great house of Malfoy, having to be comforted by muggles. What would daddy think?" Harry whispers, just loud enough for him to hear.
Draco glares, but sits back down. "If this silly muggle contraption doesn't kill us both first, I might end up killing you when we get to Alexandria," Draco says. Harry smiles and leans back into his seat, relishing in victory.
When the plane takes off, Draco grips both handrests for dear life. Harry is paying him no attention. Until now, none of this has seemed real. Until now, part of him has still been expecting he would return to Hogwarts for another year with his friends - his family.
As of right now, his life is changed forever.