Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything to do with the Harry Potter franchise. J.K. Rowling has that great privilege. I am simply playing with her characters for a bit – I am not making money and do not wish to do so from this work. This is purely for shits and giggles and I will let the characters go when I'm done. Of course, anything not recognisable from the Potter-verse, was probably made up by myself, or the idea referenced from another Potter-verse fanficcer.
Title: Divide - Chapter 03
Pairing: Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy
Rating: 15 for language, violence and sexual situations
Genre: Pre-Slash, Drama, Adventure, Romance
Summary: Harry Potter hates summer. This summer, however, the Dursley's take him with them on a family vacation. In the strange new city, Harry finds more trouble than he expected, in the form of Death Eaters and Draco Malfoy.
A/N: This chapter has the first POV change – from this chapter on, Harry's is not the only POV. Chapter currently un-BETA'd, will update to the BETA'd version once done.
Divide.
Chapter 03
Harry spent an inordinate amount of time wondering around the central streets of Bath. He hadn't spent much time in a predominantly muggle city, for obvious reasons, since he had started at Hogwarts. Bath was, while almost totally muggle, completely different from London and thus fascinating to him.
Harry explored the many and varied muggle stores, not yet buying himself anything – despite the allure of many of the products he came across. He gave a bit of change to the Blue Man standing in a small alcove in the front wall of the Roman Baths, pretending to be a statue (he wondered at the strangeness of muggles, compared to the eccentricities of magic-folk as he did.) He inspected the myriad free-standing stalls in the streets, smiling at the ridiculous plastic toys and hand-made jewellery, frowning at objects claimed by the stall-owners to be magical (though not a single object was and he wondered at the almost universal muggle ability to believe in magic where it wasn't and ignore it where it was.)
He stood for some time, watching a street artist paint an image of the Royal Crescent from memory, using a small pallet knife and oils, then debated with himself over buying one of the other images on the stall, before buying a small, postcard sized painting of the Abbey. As he left, he grinned at the young girl having her long hair braided with brightly coloured threads at the next stall.
He paused and bought a bubble-gun from a tack stall, thinking of both Ron and Arthur as he did, knowing they would both be fascinated despite themselves. He planned to give it to Mr. Weasley when he visited The Burrow in a couple of weeks.
To his constant wonder, the Georgian architecture did not let up at any point. The whole city seemed to be made of local stone, a pale sandy, creamy colour and all buildings were either neo-classical or close approximations. Though he did find one or two different buildings – a pub that looked almost medieval and a couple of far more modern buildings that turned out to be the local muggle College.
Almost everywhere, however, there was the stamp of the twenty-first century. Posters, signs, each store with its name emblazoned across its doorway and windows – but none of it really detracted from the look of the place. Harry found he liked it, it made him think of the way magical folk mixed ancient and modern in their everyday lives.
He also found that, despite Vernon and Petunia's behaviour, he was thoroughly enjoying himself. His only point of disquiet was the worry that he could bump into the Dursley's. He kept his senses open, just in case, knowing that if he spotted them, he could simply slip into the crowd and disappear.
While investigating one of the independent and speciality store packed alleys that run parallel to Stall Street, Harry discovered two points of interest. The first was a small sweets cafe named Ben's Cookies. He stood outside for a moment, savouring the scent of freshly baked cookies, then stepped inside and explored the choices. He couldn't help but think it was brilliant – there was so much choice, any wizard or witch would be surprised. There was coconut, mixed nuts, lemon, chocolate – white or milk, double chocolate and triple chocolate, chocolate and coconut, chocolate and mixed nuts, fresh fruit, dried fruit, fruit and nuts.. the list went on.
He bought three; triple chocolate, coconut and mixed nut, to munch on for the rest of the day. They were very fresh and he decided to eat the triple chocolate, humming in pleasure at the warmly melted confection as he nibbled. They were even better than they smelled.
The second thing he discovered, was while walking further up the same alley – right at the top, next to a set of stone steps that lead to Upper Borough Walls, was a real Wizarding shop.
Of course, from first glance, it didn't look exactly like a Wizarding shop; it was cleverly disguised as what most muggle's thought such a shop should look like – which meant there were a lot of useless trinkets spread about – but Harry could feel the real magic within its walls, radiating like a beacon. With a bit of concentration, Harry could actually work out exactly what he was feeling – anti-dark magic wards, anti-fire wards and a little something else that was new to him.
The name above the door, and hanging from the pub-like swinging-sign that moved gently in the breeze, was Arcadia.
Still nibbling the cookie, Harry stood and looked in the window, contemplating the artefacts on display.
The display was interesting – it was a liberal mix of both useless but pretty muggle objects, and real magical objects that Harry quickly identified by the slight glow each was emanating. He had the strong feeling that only a witch or wizard could actually see them, anyway. Watching a muggle looking at the display, he guessed a notice-me-not charm, directed at muggles, was set on the magical objects, as the woman's eyes slipped over them without pause.
Behind the display of artefacts, there was a small indoor waterfall, lightly splashing its way down to a pond. He could clearly see goldfish, and thought he saw a small water-nymph as well, the tiny, green and silver, mermaid like creature breaking the surface for only a moment, before slipping back underwater again.
Harry smiled again, wondering at the simplicity of the ruse. The owner of this store was hiding in plain sight – he was amazed the Ministry had allowed it – or if the Ministry even knew about it. Deciding he wasn't going to tell, mostly because he hated the Ministry, Harry tucked the remaining two cookies into one of his bags and stepped inside.
It turned out that the pond was used to display wares as well as just a focal point – small nooks and crannies were all used to display various products, from small statues of various world religions gods and deities, to jewellery and any amount of crystals. With a closer look, Harry also spotted the water-nymph, sitting with two of her sisters at the bottom of the pool – one a light green and gold, the other a pearly blue and brown.
Directly in front of the door Harry had entered through, was a staircase leading up to the next floor – the wall all the way up covered in mirrors, paintings and wooden carvings that looked vaguely African. A small sign could be seen telling anyone who read it that the store sold indigenous and aboriginal art, as well as clothing upstairs.
To the left of the staircase, using the space underneath it, was the counter for the clerks. It was glass and doubling up as display cases for the more expensive items – intricately designed jewellery, elaborately carved statues and huge crystals, both free formed and those still half encased in stone, creating miniature caves of amethyst or quartz. The counter was reverse 'L' shaped, leading backwards, deeper into the store and curving under the staircase. Along the surface were more trinkets on display trees or in baskets – cheaper necklaces, pendants, pendulums, earrings, bookmarks, small boxes of incense sticks and more crystals, this time small enough to hide in a fist.
None of the stuff on display within the shop was actually magical, apart from the three nymphs in the pond. Harry shook his head too himself and moved a little further in. The entire wall on the left was devoted to candles, incense and the holders in which to burn them. A small section near the far end was covered in DVDs and CDs and the far wall itself was a small alcove, with fresh herbs and ground minerals. From what Harry could see, none of it would work as anything more than a nicely (or occasionally, horrifically) scented pot purée.
There were some fresh herbs on display, and an untouched pestle and mortar. Harry felt certain Snape would be aghast at the waste, of both herbs and equipment. He couldn't stop a grin at the thought.
He couldn't see what was behind the till under the staircase, so he moved further in and glanced at the jovial looking shop-clerk. The man, who was rather eccentrically dressed in full Wizarding robes, a la Albus Dumbledore, was obviously not actually a muggle. The man looked up and Harry watched as his eyes took in the messy black hair, green eyes and then looked up at his forehead. Harry turned away before the man could say anything, nervously pushing his fringe down over the scar. Merlin, he was always recognised, and until he was seventeen, he couldn't apply any concealing charms, or transfigure his hair – or anything at all that would help him keep his anonymity.
He spent a few minutes inspecting the candles. They came in all colours, but pretty much only two shapes – small and squat, or tall and thin. Not at all comparable to what was needed in quite a few real rituals. When he turned back to the counter, the man smiled at him, "Mr. Potter?"
Well, there really was no getting away from it. Harry nodded and stepped closer to the till – at least the man was being discreet, even if the only other patrons appeared to be muggles. The man was grinning widely, "Never thought I'd have someone like Harry Potter in my humble store."
Harry occluded fiercely, fighting back the embarrassment and nodded with a small smile.
The man took that as a cue to introduce himself, "Henry Shire," they shook hands, Henry's grip was strong and his hands callused, "I own this little place with my lovely wife, Desdemona." Henry had a thick Wiltshire accent that gave Harry pause as he mentally translated, "What are you doing in our neck of the woods?"
Stuffing his free hand in his pocket, the other tightly clenching his shopping bags, Harry smiled again, "My family brought me on a vacation."
Henry laughed again, as if unable to keep the laugh inside, "And what do you think of our fair city?"
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, "It's nice so far, I've spent today exploring before doing anything really touristy."
Henry told him about a couple of museums he should look for, then directed him to the rear of the shop, pointing out a door in the end wall that lead to the strictly non-muggle part of the store. Harry thanked the man with a smile and moved in the general direction of the door, glancing at the wares on the counter top and finally finding out what was behind the staircase. It was a small library of muggle books on magic, religion and self-help.
Harry almost didn't recognise the figure standing there, flicking through what looked like a muggle version of a charms journal.
Draco Malfoy. The last person Harry had expected to see! From sleek white-blonde head to leather booted toe, it was unmistakably the Slytherin prince.
It had been just over five weeks since he had last seen the other teenager and as far as he could tell, he hadn't changed much – though it was a bit strange to see him in impeccable muggle clothing.
Not feeling like announcing his presence, Harry quickly and quietly made his way to the door. As he did, he looked Malfoy over, assessing the outfit; he was wearing a black leather jacket, faded black jeans, black leather boots and a fine looking black t-shirt. His white-blonde hair was vividly striking, creating a stark contrast against all the black, that Harry admitted to himself actually looked rather good.
He had to hand it to him, Malfoy knew how to dress to impress- though maybe it was a pureblood thing. Malfoy must have felt Harry's gaze on him, because just as Harry was within inches of the door, he turned. Hoping against hope that Malfoy hadn't actually seen him, Harry crossed the remaining space at a fast walk and closed the door quietly behind him.
Malfoy Mansion was actually situated in a very large plot of land in Wiltshire, one of many such plots, comfortably close enough to Bath that Draco had grown up with occasional visits to the place – despite its decidedly muggle nature. There was a Wizard's Ball held at the Pump Rooms annually in the summer, he had been to three in the past five years, being introduced to prospective pureblood brides at each one. Though that was before his father had been incarcerated. When he was much younger, he had enjoyed the Ball, parading around and being presented with the cream of the crop of young Pureblood girls. The last time, Draco had figured a few things out so his enjoyment had lessened considerably, becoming almost uncomfortable by the girls being presented to him, like so much chattel.
He did not attend the Ball this year, finding nothing worth his attention at the thing. However, after he had finished all his homework – in the first week – and had run out of things to do at home, he had realised he really didn't want to sit in the large Mansion with no one to talk to but the House Elves. In past years, he would have had fellow Slyth's around at any given opportunity, treating his Mansion home as if it were theirs as well.
But this year, things were different and he refused to think about the reasons behind the change. His body shuddered slightly, of its own volition, whenever he did. Clammy hands and red eyes wouldn't leave him alone.
So he had decided to take a small vacation and was staying in the Wizarding Hotel on Queens Square. The place was expensive, but well within his budget, and situated just close enough to the centre of town to be perfect for some retail therapy if he needed it and just far enough away, to be missed by drunken muggle revelry at the end of the University and College years. They tended to be either up on George Street, or down at the very end of Stall Street, at The Hobgoblin. Though there were a few nightclubs around, none of them were terribly close to Queens Square.
After a day of lounging around in his very comfortable room, relaxing and enjoying room service, Draco had decided that even Shire's presence was preferable to the ingrates currently working in the Hotel Bar and Restaurant where he had tried to hold a conversation or two with the staff, so he had gone for a walk and ended up in Arcadia.
Currently, he was flicking through what muggles believed to be a spell book, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous attempts at love spells, protection spells and even worse, prosperity spells. He snorted quietly, ignoring a soft sound behind him. In his current get-up, he tended to have muggle girls all over him, as well as the occasional and very welcome appreciative glance from muggle boys, so he continued reading.
However, a moment later he realised someone was actually staring at him. He could feel it in the pricking between his shoulder blades. He turned slightly and his pale eyes rested on the one person he had least expected to see.
Harry Potter was trying to sneak past him into the Wizarding section!
He watched, slightly incredulously, as Potter reached the door and quietly closed it behind him, then snapped the book closed, placing it back on the shelf where he had taken it from. What to do? He paused for a moment, wondering if he could just leave it and go back to his Hotel – but he knew he couldn't. He was far too curious, and once peaked, his curiosity needed to be sated.
With a smirk, directed more at himself than anything else, Draco stepped through the door, closing it gently behind himself. If nothing else, Potter would provide some distraction for the monotony of holidaying in a city he had known since he was a child.
A/N: Both Ben's Cookies and Arcadia actually exist, exactly as I described them and exactly where I placed them. Arcadia used to be one of my favourite shops in Bath, but I've grown out of Woo in the past few years. Ben's Cookies, however, is still one of my favourite little cafe's – their cookies really are to die for!