Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Authors note: So I don't write angst and constant depression all that well, although you might have been surprised by the amount of angst in the previous chapters. A girl needs some comic relief, so I have involved my favorite comic relief characters ever. And of course, for me, Draco himself is sometimes a comic relief character. Plus, the story is finally picking up, and anyways I've had too much sugar, so I just wrote a few comic relief chapters (ok like 3 or four of them in a row, but they're 4 or 5 chapters ahead of where I've posted). Sugar sugar sugar. Comments, edits, and criticism are always welcome!
"The muggle world? Draco? Really?" Daphne sounded a bit mournful.
"Yes! The muggle world. Look. We got spotted, and apparently, the wizarding world thinks we are either kidnapping the younger kids, or we have all been kidnapped, or that we are making a pilgrimage to sacrifice Malcolm to the Dark Lord or something. And we can't be seen again, and we've got the trace on us, though the more of us that turn 17 the less it'll look like unruly children, and more like some kind of odd Weasley-esque family." Draco rubbed his face, already tired of this argument.
"Okay," Daphne said, still sounding forlorn.
Pansy patted her friends arm in what she clearly thought was a comforting fashion. Draco glared as a beaming Flora approached him, her eyes a little too bright, with an over excited gleam that was to be feared from her. He sighed in what he hoped was a world weary and dramatic fashion, and arched an eyebrow at her.
"Draco. We should all have code names," she said, with a dramatic flourish. She looked a little like a maniacal hamster with her bright eyes bugged out excitedly.
"Pray tell, why?"
"Because. It's for the cause. For the revolution," Flora was gesticulating wildly, her grin growing as she spoke more.
"What revolution? We're a group of children on the run, not a revolutionary elite team of magical assassins Flora. And more importantly no one is looking for us so hard that we need code names, we'll just pretend to be muggles."
"Draco, stop spreading lies. First of all, the muggle is an odd creature we could never hope to impersonate. Secondly, of course we are going to start a revolution, we can't just run away like a flock of hufflepuffs, we must avenge and save as many slytherins and maybe a ravenclaw or two, as we can. And lastly, even if we must attempt to hide amongst the muggles, what sort of muggle is named Draco? Or Hestia? Or Morag? Please. Those are nice wizarding names, untainted by the muggle."
"Flora. Stop referring to them as 'The Muggle', you are not writing a book on them. We… I am too weary for this, child."
"Draco. I am offended that you don't see the rational. This is for the good of the revolution. To improve our Slytherin name to the world and to kill some cloaked deviants while we are at it! It being the revolution. Now that that's settled, about the cod-"
"Save me from 13 year old girls and their illusions of the world. Flora, we are not part of a revolution. We are a group of kids that couldn't accomplish much even if we wanted to. And if we are going to survive, which should be our ultimate goal, we need to hide first before we make anybodies life difficult. We need a place to hide, and those cloaked figures, that's our fathers, uncles, brothers, aunts, and grandparents in some cases."
The look in little Flora's pale and drawn face, her hard eyes snapping at him, almost made Draco look away, but he wouldn't back down, no matter how impressed with her ferocity he was.
"They don't deserve to live. It's not like they gave us a chance then, did they?" Her voice was loud, and angry, and everyone froze, looking up. Hestia narrowed her eyes accusatorily at Draco, but came to calm her sister, bumping her twins shoulder firmly with her own.
Draco just looked at her, and sighed. He was suddenly tired again. Thirteen year olds shouldn't be so adamant, and he knew that joking slightly was Flora's method of calmly dealing with realities, and he almost felt bad for her. She was in his boat, family was known for mostly just being pureblooded Dark Lord lackeys, no matter what anybody did, or no matter how their descendants tried to make names for themselves apart from a few family members mistakes.
"Fine." He didn't even think it sounded like his voice when he said it, but Flora did appear mollified.
"So. Can I come up with code names?"
"Code names? Whatever for?" Daphne tilted her head, tuning in after Flora's outburst.
Flora's eyes lit up again with that maniac gleam that Draco feared, and said, "For the revolution."
That evening, they made it to the outskirts of a muggle town. The magic was thin in the air here, enough so that Draco and Pansy went to investigate the possibility of food that wasn't cooked by Slytherins, none of which had ever actually had to cook anything.
Pansy and Draco, along with the two seventh years had all agreed that they were all too recognizable, and they had to come up with some muggle clothes, and some muggle, or non magical at least disguises.
There had been some discussion of metamorph medals, but all in all, they had agreed that maybe something that couldn't be dispelled by a common charm might be their best shot at changing their appearances. And then of course, Pansy and Morag's eyes had lit up maniacally about the use of hair dyes and they had heard about muggle make ups that changed your skin and on and on, and oh joy, Draco had dropped out of school to wear make up. Good thing father couldn't see him now, or the poor man might simply die on the spot.
And now they had to work out how to nick clothes, food, and disguises, so that no one would strave, and so they might be able to catch a train or some other muggle method of travel south to either London, or the continent.
Pansy snagged his arm, dragging him towards a large stone building that looked dreadful. But outside the muggles had strung up their clothes like odd flags. "They left them out for us, does it count as stealing from helpless muggles if they left their clothes outside?" Pansy was frowning up at the large building as she muttered into Draco's ear.
It was true. Why would they have left them out? Maybe it was some kind of muggle rubbish ritual, and they didn't need them? Draco shrugged and wandered towards the weird little rope and stick area where the clothes were situated. Draco took off his rucksack, still charmed from when Liam had put the Undetectable Extension Charm on it. They began pulling clothes, neither of them thinking to look out for muggles, there were shirts, though they seemed a bit thinner than rational, and some had odd things splattered across the chests, bright words and the like. And then of course, pants, not unlike what the younger generation already wore, though these were different, more rugged looking. And then some odd jumper type things of an awful Scottish print that Pansy squealed at, but Draco grabbed anyways.
Then, a muggle yelled out something in a thick Scottish accent, and Draco and Pansy froze, and burst into laughter, snagging their final clothing trophies, and bolting back towards the woods, not bothering to check to see if they were being followed. They ran all the way back to where the others were huddled around a fire Liam had started up, out of breath, cheeks pink form exertion and adrenaline firing their laughter as they skidded to a halt in front of the others.
"Is there real food?" The hope in Greg's voice was tangible as he eyes Draco's rucksack hopefully.
"Everything costs muggle money, and we've none of that. Did you steal anything?" Millie's scolding voice may have been spot on, but it was punctuated by her stomach grumbling, so her admonishment didn't bother Greg any.
"We did nick muggle clothes," Draco said, changing the subject from everyone's painfully empty stomachs. Flora and Tiny brightened up, since poor Tiny had had his impressionable young mind warped by Flora's dramatic flourishing plans for her revolution.
Draco dumped out the muggle clothes they'd made off with, and Tiny and the Carrow twins began pawing through the piles delightedly. Blaise trotted out of the woods a few minutes later, dragging a decently sized poor murdered sheep, and so everyone was cheered, the younger ones because they got to be incognito as muggles, and the rest because their stomachs had been shrieking in hunger for a day or so now.