Chapter 16: The Barista
The time change was going to kill me. My body was programmed to function senev hours ahead of the time zone I was in. I had meant to brew a potion to remedy this, but I hadn't had time and I'd forgotten to bring several ingredients that were illegal in the States.
However, I was determined to finish all of the paperwork in a single day, even though I had already been awake for what felt like hours upon hours. This made for what felt like the latest night of my life, quickly followed by the earliest morning.
Unfortunately I woke up on time. Even more unfortunately, Hazel showed up right on time to show me around Pocatello before she had to leave for Alabama, where she lived and worked. This trip was helping me realize that Hazel was quickly becoming a friend, and a valuable one at that. I couldn't deny that she still had a talent for being annoying, but I had been too harsh when I first met her.
The morning brought out the worst in me, especially when Hazel's chirpy voice was my wake-up call. I groaned before yelling, "Just a moment!"
I somehow managed to pick out an outfit that looked halfway decent before I simply twisted my hair up and stuck a pencil through it. It was one of those days that if I had tried to tame my hair, it would have broken the comb or simply eaten it.
Stumbling out of my hotel room, I coughed a bir. "I need coffee," I said flatly.
Hazel smiled widely. "Someone showed me a fantastic place in Old Town, I just need to remember how to get there."
I rubbed my temples. Normally sleep deprivation wouldn't affect me so drastically, but this was built on weeks of sleep deprivation. "Is the shop a Muggle one, or is it magical?"
Hazel blinked. "It's run by these witches-"
"Let's apparate there," I interrupted. "I know the laws are strict, but just this once can we please apparate?"
Hazel smiled slyly. "Okay, just this once."
My anticipation for the coffee was replaced by a raw desperation when we appeared in front of two elegant doors with a sign that read, "Closed for Maintenance."
Fingers clutching her arm, I said, "I need coffee."
"Starbucks it is," Hazel squeaked.
Not soon enough we found ourselves at Starbucks, and I stumbled in resembling a zombie more than myself. It was for the best that none of my friends could see me right now, because they would give me the lecture of my life about self care. I honestly don't remember what I ordered, but soon Hazel and I were waiting in line to collect our drinks.
When the worker called out my name, I froze. For one, he said my name correctly, but I knew that voice. Was I hallucinating from sleep deprivation? There was no way…
Hazel hummed appreciatively. "Mmm, he is drop dead gorgeous, and he's got an accent. That's a British accent, right? I get them all mixed up sometimes. If he weren't a No-Maj… Mmmm."
"It's a British accent," I confirmed, truly beginning to question my sanity. I slowly stepped forward to accept my coffee, finally daring to look at the barista that was growing more and more impatient.
Keen silver eyes locked onto mine. "Are you Hermione?"
"Yes," I said faintly. "Thank you, Draco."
My heart was pounding, and I tried to think of any reason that Draco Malfoy would be working as a barista at Starbucks in Pocatello Idaho. However, he stared at me back. "I'm sorry, what did you call me? Is that some sort of insult?"
"Shut up!" Hazel screeched, causing all occupants of Starbucks to wince. "This is Draco Malfoy? Our barista?"
Malfoy blinked, confusion crossing his face. "Do you know me?"
He was clearly absolutely befuddled, but I was as well. The man before me was undeniably Draco Malfoy, but he didn't recognize me in the slightest. Meanwhile, we were the sole focus of absolutely everyone in Starbucks.
Hesitantly, the barista at the register stepped over to where Draco and I were trying to find some understanding via staring at one another like dead fish. "Excuse me, do you really know him?"
I glanced at her. "Yes, we went to school together. His name is Draco Malfoy. I actually came to America to find him."
An indiscernible mixture of emotions trekked over the barista's face. "He's gotten a lot of attention lately. How do I know you're not faking an accent and making this all up?"
I plucked my forgotten coffee from Draco's hand, taking a long drink to hopefully combat the headache that was currently pounding my brain with a sledgehammer. "Excuse me?"
The barista sighed. "This man showed up one day injured and with no memories whatsoever. We're short staffed today, so neither of us can leave now. If you come back at one we'll both be off on our lunch break."
Unfortunately my coffee hadn't worked its magic yet. I repeated, "Excuse me?"
"Look," the barista said, "I'm not going to trust a complete stranger with his life. You know him? It's a miracle. But I need proof. We have lunch at one. You have until then to find something to prove that he is who you say."
Without another word the barista resumed her place at the cash register and Malfoy handed Hazel her coffee. A lot of emotions rested in his silver eyes, the foremost being confusion and hope.
It didn't take long for the caffeine to hit my system. It was supplemented by the slightest chance of success, which was an even more potent drug to me. I had a matter of hours to find whatever it would take to prove that he was in fact Draco Malfoy.
Back at my hotel room I furiously began searching through my beaded bag. I felt madness encroaching. "It's not here, none of it is here."
Hazel stared at my frenzied search with wide eyes. "Hermione, are you okay?"
I was close to hyperventilating. "Something bad is coming, Hazel. I can feel it. Death Eaters are rising, and Draco and I will both be prime targets and he's stuck in America with nothing to prove that he is Draco Malfoy, and he doesn't remember anything, and-"
"Breathe slowly," Hazel commanded forcefully.
I forced myself to try, and as I took a shuddering breath, I realized how close I'd been to having a panic attack. With an encouraging smile Hazel said, "You were able to find him your first morning of being in America. Yes, there was quite a bit of luck involved with the whole coffee mess, but out of the entire world you were able to pinpoint this city, something I doubt any other witch in the world would even begin to know how to do so. You've got immense knowledge and luck on your side. This is the easy part."
I found myself nodding with Hazel's reasoning. I was starting to think rationally again. Trying to swallow past the rising panic, I asked, "Has my permit for International Apparation been approved? I barely remember last night."
Hazel shook her head. "I tried to streamline the process, but the soonest it can get approved is tomorrow." She hesitated before continuing, "But I do have a permit. If we were to apparate together then it would be under my permission."
Despite the turmoil of my emotions, I found myself smiling. "Have you ever been to London before?"
"No."
"Well, it's not the most exciting," I deadpanned, knowing what this was going to mean to Hazel, "but you'll get to see my place."
Hazel looked like Christmas had come early. Linking arms, we apparated away.
It felt like it had been ages since I'd seen my apartment. There was something innately comforting about being surrounded by my world, especially after travelling to America and having what I thought I knew turned on its head.
But I wasn't here to reminisce. While Hazel gawked and "discretely" poked through my belongings, I tore through my apartment like a woman possessed. Right then I really wished that Hogwarts would have had someone taking pictures other than Colin Creevey. A yearbook would have been worth its weight in gold at that moment.
Proving the existence and identity of Draco Malfoy turned out to be millions of times harder than it should have been. I paced, obsessively checking my watch (set to Pocatello time). In an hour and a half, all I'd been able to amass was a blurry photo from our third year and a handful of newspaper pictures, all newly spelled not to move. (That alone had been an exercise of my patience.) After a lot of internal debate, I added the Malfoy ring to the pile, but I wondered if it counted as evidence if Draco couldn't identify it.
"I don't know if this will be enough, Hazel," I said, staring at the measly amount of evidence I had before me. Panic was rising once again. "Malfoy is going to be stuck in America while his mother mourns him."
"Hermione, calm down, it will be o-"
"No," I snapped a little harshly. "No, I almost broke completely when I thought my parents would never remember me, but at least I knew they were alive. Malfoy might never remember anyone, but that is nothing compared to what his parents and friends are feeling right now. I told them he was dead, Hazel. As someone who has seen the deaths of too many people I care about, I'm going to personally keep Draco Malfoy safe until the day I can tell them their nightmares are just nightmares."
Hazel's eyes were almost comically round. Cautiously she said, "Are you oka- I mean, do you need to talk, Hermione?"
"I need sleep, I need this Death Eater uprising to be stopped, and I need Draco Malfoy to be able to live the life he deserves," I said. "And for that to happen I need solid proof that he is who I say. I will not risk this on having halfway reliable proof."
"We can just obliviate the No-Maj," Hazel offered.
"And how would we explain that to Draco?" I asked, folding my arms. "We'd likely have to obliviate him as well to keep him from panicking, and we don't know how that would affect his brain, and he already has memory loss."
"Okay, is there anyone who could help you gather proof? Someone that wouldn't ask too many questions?" Hazel asked.
"I didn't want to involve him more than I already have, but this is urgent." Offering Hazel my arm I continued, "You get to see a bit more of Britain."
The time difference meant that Blaise Zabini was eating dinner alone in his apartment when we apparated in. Blaise gave an undignified shriek at our sudden arrival, the sound of which set me off into a fit of laughter.
"Merlin's saggy pants, Granger, you can't just do that! Stop laughing, you're bloody supposed to be in America! What in gulping gargoyles are you doing in my flat?" he demanded.
"You see-"
"I know you can apparate in here, but it's common courtesy-"
"Zabini, shut up for once in your life," I said, my laughter finally under control. "We will discuss your girlish shriek later. We don't have a lot of time right now. I need any pictures you have of Malfoy doing non-magical things if we're going to get him out of America. We also need any objects you have that he might recognize."
His eyes rested on me. "If it were anyone else, Granger, I would say they were barking mad. I'll do what you ask, but know that I will be demanding a full explanation when things blow over."
As Blaise left to begin his search I realized with a start that Hazel was here. I had never known her to be that quiet for that long. Her eyes rested on Zabini's thin form as he moved about his flat, and I had to keep myself from groaning. I didn't have time for Hazel to be interested in Blaise, especially with the way that Blaise reacted to any female attention.
When Blaise went into his bedroom, she scuttled over to me. "So that's Blaise Zabini?"
"Mhmm," I said, attempting to organize things in the Muggle bag I'd brought for evidence.
"We don't know a lot about him since he wasn't a large part of the war," Hazel said almost dreamily. "He was in your year at Hogwarts and he was friends with Malfoy. That's all we have on him."
"There's a fair bit more to me than that," Blaise called from the other room. "Obviously my dashing good looks are an important part of the equation."
I smiled. "He's also one of the most conceited Slytherins you'll ever meet," I smirked. "That is an accomplishment all on its own."
"Well Granger is more of a know-it-all than the entire Ravenclaw house," Zabini called back. "I take it you're part of that American fan club?"
"Yes," Hazel squeaked. "I'm the vice-president. Hazel. My name is Hazel."
Zabini came back in laden with various items, which he unceremoniously dumped onto the floor where I had been sorting my own evidence. I grumbled, setting to work on the photos he had.
Blaise smiled that certain smile that had earned him a spot on Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Wizards list. "Well it's nice to meet you, Hazel. I apologize for Granger's terrible manners. I've been trying to instruct her on proper etiquette, but alas-"
"You'll want to watch what you say," I warned. "I have blackmail as well as an extensive arsenal of hexes."
"Alas, Granger is already perfection," Blaise backpedalled hurriedly.
Glancing at my watch, I cursed under my breath. "Hazel and I need to go. As always, thanks Zabini. I'd be lost without you."
"No, my best mate would be lost forever without you," Blaise said seriously. "Please curb your Gryffindor ways and try to get yourself and Draco back without any near death experiences."
I smiled thinly at Blaise. "I'll try." As I got deeper and deeper into this plot, I felt the reality of Death Eaters returning hanging over my head like a guillotine. As I took Hazel's arm so we could apparate together, I sincerely hoped that those wouldn't be the last words I ever spoke to Blaise.
A/N: And I'm back! I promised you things would start picking up. Sorry it's a few days late, I had some family things, as well as a nasty case of writer's block. I'm still not totally satisfied with this chapter, but it's leagues better than the original. If I had posted what I originally wrote it would be offensive to my readers and a disgrace to my writing. Let me know what you think! As always follows and reviews are hugely motivational.
