CHAPTER THREE
Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure I will only own Harry Potter in my dreams
Where is everyone? Hermione hated it when people were late. She checked her watch for the fourth time in the last ten seconds. The portkey's leaving in two minutes, and I'm the only one that actually arrived. I'm going to kill Harry after this.
Just when Hermione was about to contact Elizabeth, the supervisor of portkeys, to postpone their time until 9:30, Draco and Harry showed up, both very out of breath.
"Don't ask," Harry said under his breath. Hermione gestured for them to grab on to their portkey. She glanced at her watch again. 9:00. The portkey would start, right about… now. She felt like she was doing cartwheels in midair, and collapsed onto the ground.
"Don't look at me like that," she said grumpily at amusement and surprise on Harry and Draco's faces, respectively. "You know that I hate using these things."
"Well, actually, I didn't," Draco added.
"Good thing I wasn't talking to you then," Hermione shot back sharply. Harry started to walk toward the building in front of them, but Hermione simply admired it. It was huge, with marble columns down the sides, and a white dome at the top.
"Hurry up, Granger, we don't have all day," Draco said, tapping his foot.
Hermione ignored his comment, and instead sent him a scathing look. "You know, Harry," she said, emphasizing the last word. "I read that there's a window in here that can show you any place in the entire world."
Draco chuckled. "Glad to see that you're still a bookworm, Granger."
Hermione decided not to comment again. Stupid Malfoy and his stupid comments. If this is anything like Hogwarts again, I'm leaving and getting Brenda to do this.
"You know, it's rude to ignore people," Draco added, after Hermione's silence.
Perfect, I'll just not talk to Malfoy for the entire trip. He's got to leave me alone eventually.
Draco seemed sullen at the fact that Hermione still didn't speak to him. Harry watched the two of them with trepidation.
"You two better not hex each other the minute I turn my back, ok?" Harry asked. Draco rolled his eyes, and Hermione glared. "I'm serious," Harry said. "Draco isn't the same as he used to be. Would I be here if he were?"
Hermione bit her lip and sighed. "I guess not."
Harry swiveled around to Draco. "And you, you know she doesn't trust you that much, so why do you insist on trying to patronize her?"
Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Because I want to, Potter. And because it was a joke."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "A joke? Just like how all the times you called me a Mudblood was a joke?" What a git. I'd apparate away right now, but I can't leave Harry.
"No, Granger, those weren't jokes," Draco said, looking down. "I'm sorry, can we just go in now?"
Hermione huffed, and walked right past him.
"Hello, welcome to Russia, I am Abram Rtistshiv," said the man near Hermione, but in Russia (naturally). He had black hair similar to Harry's, but it was slicked back, and looked much neater. He looked much too young to be Minister of Magic already, in Hermione's opinion. Perhaps a glamour charm.
"Thank you very much," Hermione said back, in impeccable Russian. You could barely tell that she was actually British. "We are here to discuss the recent Death Eater sightings."
Abram nodded, and thought for a bit. "I have someone who is more involved with that than I am. Unfortunately, he is in a meeting right now, but I will be sure to get him immediately after. Meanwhile, why don't you three enjoy Russia for a bit. I don't imagine that you come here very often. We can meet up over there in five hours." He pointed to a small garden outside. In the middle, was a white gazebo, covered in red roses.
As soon as Abram left, Hermione jumped around, looking at everything. "This place is so beautiful! Look at that garden! I've got to check out the window too."
She heard Draco say, softly, "You should check out the garden at the Manor. You'd love it."
Then he walked away. "I guess I'd ruin your fun, so I'll see you later. If you need me, I'll be at the nearest bar," he called out to Harry and Hermione.
"Actually," Harry started to say. He gave an apologetic glance at Hermione. "I could really use a drink too, right now."
Traitor.
"It's ok, I'll see you later," Hermione said as cheerfully as she could, trying to dissemble her disappointment. Harry gave her a sceptical look, then walked after Draco.
As soon as Harry was out of sight, Hermione's shoulders drooped. I'll just have to have a fantastic time, without either of them. Besides, they wouldn't want to go to the places I want to go anyway. So maybe I'm better off without them.
Hermione had read a book about places in Russia before. It held a lot of historic sites, both Magical and Muggle. She decided to visit Gorod Drakona, the Russian equivalent of Diagon Alley. There was a portal, somewhere in the MInistry that lead to it, according to Hermione's knowledge. She searched around for it, and found it at the very edge of the second floor. It was a bluish swirl, and did not make Hermione's stomach flop around. In fact, it felt pretty peaceful, especially compared to apparate in and using portkeys. We should really install some of these back over in Great Britain. I'll have to discuss it with Shacklebolt.
To say it simply, Gorod Drakona was beautiful and amazing. Hermione gushed over the lavish designs on the robes there. Some might of thought of Hermione as someone who didn't care for fashion or looks (Based on the state of her hair, probably),and they were correct, Hermione really didn't care much about how she appeared. But, even she could appreciate the intricate works of art. She also visited Rossiya Magiya, a museum devoted to explaining how magic grew in Russia over the years. Hermione was amazed by it. Some Muggles even knew about wizards, and lived in the same town as them. I wonder why we can't get along back at home.
After that, it was just about time to go back and meet Harry and Draco again. She exited the museum and took a deep breath. Maybe you can't remember how you got here, but remember that you can always ask someone. Or… Actually… Isn't that the way?
The way, that Hermione was currently thinking about, was a narrow road to the right of her.
What's the harm? She asked herself, fully knowing that there could be many potential dangers.
She entered the passage, and was about the turn back, since she realized that practically no one else was there. Suddenly a man shot a spell at her from behind. Fuck, Hermione internally cursed. She could not longer move.
The man brought her closer to him, and Hermione caught a whiff of his breath. So… He's drunk.
Hermione concentrated as hard as she could. Finite Incantum. Finite Incantum.
"You're a fine girlie," said the man. "I'll make you feel real good. Real good."
Hermione focused harder. She imagined herself, breaking out of the bonds. She felt the man let go of her for a second, and then Hermione jumped up.
"Accio wand! Ictus!"
The man flopped onto the ground and groaned. "Don't you want to feel good?" He asked in a raspy voice. "Make it stop…. Please."
Hermione took pity on the man and stopped the spell. She gave him a scorned look, and then apparated away.
Draco hadn't expected Harry to want to go to the bar with him. I guess Granger is just really boring. Guess I'm not surprised.
Draco ordered firewhiskey for both of them, and plopped down on his chair.
"What a hell of a morning," Harry mumbled.
"That's an understatement," Draco said back. "I can't believe Pansy made a move on you."
"I can't believe it either," Harry said.
He and Draco drank in silence.
Author's Note:
Gorod Drakona - Dragon Village
Rossiya Magiya - Russia Magic
Ictus - Sting