Hermione Down Under
Chapter 12 Ron and the Punk Girl
As kidnappings go, this one seemed to be pretty tame.
The last time somebody had captured Hermione, it was Bellatrix Lestrange, and she had tortured Hermione with the Cruciatus Curse. The pain had been agonizing, and the worst part was the fear that something in her mind would snap, turning her into a permanent near-catatonic like Mrs. Longbottom. But Bellatrix had apparently held something back this time around, not out of any kindness but because she wanted Hermione to be sane enough to pour out information.
So far Mrs. Arwen, or whatever her real name was, hadn't hurt Hermione, except that her bum ached slightly from when she fell on it in the shower room with only a towel as cushioning. Instead she had simply locked Hermione in a small suite of rooms in what seemed to be an old warehouse. She had been careful to take out anything that might serve as a weapon, but she had left Hermione a cot to lie down on, and access to a loo for when she needed to relieve herself. She had brought in at least one meal.
Nor had Hermione been threatened by any sexual assault. Apparently Mrs, Arwen had cornered Hermione in the shower room simply because it was semi-private and nobody was likely to see what she was doing. That Hermione was naked was simply a circumstance. Mrs. Arwen had even Apparated back to the Station and reappeared with Hermione's change of clothes, so she could dress decently.
Hermione's biggest fear actually had little to do with Mrs. Arwen. It was that her parents, unaware of the kidnapping, might assume that she had simply left the Station of her free will, without trying for a reconciliation. Hermione had still not decided how to respond to her parents' ultimatum, but she would never simply have walked out on them.
The suite of rooms had no windows, and Hermione had no idea where she was. She hazarded a guess at Brisbane.
There was a crackling noise as Mrs. Arwen materialized in the other room. She walked in.
"Come with me," she said curtly. "There's something I want to show you."
"Suppose I don't want to see it?"
"Oh, I assure you that you'll be very interested in this. Now, you won't be physically restrained, but I'll have a charm on you, so don't try to run away. You will feel extreme pain if you flee more than ten yards from me, and you won't be able to speak."
She grasped Hermione's arm, in a cold, businesslike manner, and Apparated.
Hermione found herself in darkness – outdoors at night? No, there was a scent and a warmth in the air that seemed artificial. As her eyes adapted, she saw that she was in some sort of restaurant, where lights were kept dim to create an exotic atmosphere.
A waiter brought a couple of glasses of wine, but Mrs. Arwen didn't touch hers, and Hermione refrained for fear that it was drugged (after all, she had done that trick on Crabbe and Goyle way back in Year 2). Apparently her captor had ordered the drinks simply to give the pair an excuse to sit here.
"Look over there," said Mrs. Arwen.
Hermione looked in the corner where she was pointing, and gasped. Ron was sitting at the corner table. Opposite him was the weirdest-looking girl whom Hermione had ever seen. Her hair, brunette, was done up in peculiar spikes all over her head. She was wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt, but apparently nobody had told the girl that you were supposed to start with a white T-shirt when you dyed it. This shirt had apparently been yellow to being with, and that threw all the absorbed colours off. Talk about a punk fashion statement!
But it was the expressions on their faces that most shocked Hermione. A solemn Ron seemed to be pouring out a long speech to the girl, who looked sympathetic. Hermione couldn't hear what was being said, but she could imagine: My girlfriend doesn't understand me, blah blah blah. Clearly the girl hoped to become his new lover if she reacted properly to his sob story.
It can't be. Ron would never – would he?
Hermione was tempted to dash to Ron. It may cause her great pain, but it would get Ron's attention, and he would help her – or would he? She had never seen Ron behave like this! And suppose he tried to help her but was no match for Mrs. Arwen's pain spell? She couldn't risk it.
A waiter came up to the couple, and Ron apparently settled the restaurant tab. The couple got up: the girl was wearing blue-jeans type shorts, except that they were purple, and they had a fashionable tear embarrassingly close to her arse. (With this girl Hermione automatically thought "arse", rather than a politer term such as "behind")
"I've already paid for our drinks," said Mrs. Arwen. "Do you want to see where they go?"
Hermione nodded vigorously.
They followed the other couple out of the restaurant. Hermione found herself, not outdoors as she had expected, but in an atrium-lobby hotel, with numerous floors visible from the restaurant exit. Hermione caught sight of a sign: BEST EASTERN OF BRISBANE. Ron and the punk girl walked toward the lifts, and disappeared inside one. A few seconds later, on roughly the third floor, Hermione saw the lift door open. Ron and the girl emerged and strolled toward the hotel rooms.
Merciful Merlin! He's going to her hotel room! Who the bloody hell is that bitch, and how could Ron be attracted to her?
Mrs. Arwen grabbed Hermione's arm and Dis-Apparated with her. She found herself back in the warehouse.
"You may speak now. Don't expect your friend to come rushing to your rescue," Mrs. Arwen said. "He is otherwise occupied."
"Yes – I saw that—" Hermione stammered, trying to show a stiff upper lip. Then her captor vanished, and Hermione was free to cry.
She remembered her suspicions from last night: that Ron had met a cute tourist girl at the dude ranch, and the two had gone horse-riding for a few hours while Ron was supposedly reclaiming Hermione's wand. They had even borrowed Hermione's own horse for the expedition – that was why it was tired this morning. To be sure Hermione had not seen a girl looking this weird at the Station, but then she hadn't seen the girl's face even now. If she had been dressed as a cowgirl, with a hat concealing the odd hair-do, Hermione might not have noticed her among the guests.
Aside from the fact that it was distracting Ron from a possible rescue of Hermione, should she care?
Hermione had slept with Harry one night, and had lied about it to Ron afterward. She had no right to condemn Ron if he was seeing some girl on the sly and concealing her from Hermione. He was a free agent.
Or was he?
Mrs. Arwen evidently knew something about the punk girl. Could the girl be a quasi-witch, like Mrs. Arwen? Could Ron be under a spell? There were stories about the effects of consorting with a sorceress, though they didn't apply to normal witches. Would Ron be enslaved for the rest of his life if he slept with that girl? Or were the stories just Muggle distortions of what magical women were like?
She had to get out of here and see that Ron was OK. If it turned out that this was a real love affair, Hermione would simply have to accept it, and maybe go throw up somewhere, as she had when Ron dated Lavender.
She went over the rooms in extreme detail now, trying to find any exit or any tool that could break her out.
After a couple of hours she saw something like a ventilator screen on a wall, slightly loose. She tried yanking on it, and it came off. Behind it was not only her wand, but her Bottomless Handbag.
That was much too easy, Hermione thought. A clever captor would put them beyond my reach, or fix the ventilator screen so I wouldn't notice it. Was it even loose an hour ago?
Is somebody trying to undermine Mrs. Arwen and help me get away? Or is it a trap?
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Minnie. Get out of there!
She took the items out of the hole and used her wand to Apparate, meditating on the name Best Eastern Hotel of Brisbane. A few seconds later she was back in the lobby.
Now what? Go up to the third floor, try to figure out which room they had gone into, use Alohamora on the door. Unless they set up magical defences. What I find inside might be very embarrassing, but I can be sure that Ron is safe.
Wait. There she is!
The girl had just emerged from the room and was walking toward the lift. No sign of Ron. She was still wearing spiky hair and purple shorts, though she had changed her T-shirt. As she emerged from the lift on the ground floor, Hermione saw that the new shirt had a message stencilled on it : I'M MATILDA. WALTZ ME. Something she had probably found in a cheap tourist shop. By Gandalf, this girl had weird tastes.
The girl walked out the hotel's front doors, while Hermione followed. The doorman gave the punk only a brief glance; they must be used to crazy tourists, even in a fancy hotel.
Best Eastern was apparently located on a major thoroughfare. The street was empty for the moment, with traffic held up at a signal half a block away. Hermione noted that the traffic ran on the left side, as in England.
The signal changed, but the girl blithely stepped out in the path of oncoming traffic.
She must be on drugs. Maybe drugged Ron. I hate her, but I can't let her throw her life away just a few feet from me.
Hermione dashed out and pulled the girl off the street. They fell to the pavement, as the line of cars screeched to a halt and several of the drivers called the girls rude names, with the word Bloody mixed in a lot of them.
"Hermione!" cried the girl. "Thank Merlin you were here. Don't know what got into me – maybe got Wrackspurts on the brain."
Hermione stared. She would know that high-pitched girlish voice anywhere, even in Australia.
The punk girl was Luna Lovegood.
TO BE CONTINUED