Title: Fire and Powder
Chapter: 6
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Notes: THANK YOU SO MUCH TO MY NEW BETA TONKS-666 FOR VOLUNTEERING TO HELP ME! And a big thanks to everyone who favorites/followed/reviewed, you make my life. Writing this was great because I got to re-experience Cadiz, if you've ever been hopefully you will agree with my description. If you haven't I hope I've successfully given you a taste of my favorite Spanish city. Well, I'm off. Enjoy!
"In sorrow we must go, but not in despair.
Behold! We are not bound for ever to the circles of the world,
and beyond them is more than memory."
― J.R.R. Tolkien
The Spanish sun shone in stark defiance of winter. Draco wandered down the vaguely familiar streets, wondering how people could survive this type of heat year round. To think that this was winter and it actually got hotter here! The sun was never favorable to Malfoys, their skin was too fair, the sun too harsh. Draco preferred darker, cooler climates, such as England or Switzerland.
But he couldn't deny the special-charm, of Cadiz. The Spanish city was quaint, with a constant coastal breeze and old cobblestone streets that seemed to only become more and more narrow the further you ventured into the heart of the city. Children played football in the streets, shopkeepers conversed with locals, and housewives hung clothes over windowsills to dry in the humid air. The Muggle sections of the city wrapped around the Wizarding streets, completely oblivious to the magic lying literally around the corner.
Draco's family home was just outside the main Wizarding alleyway, in a small Spanish style town home. The house was old, which somehow gave it more character. It once was owned by a Spanish explorer before the turn of the 18th century, and some of the original furniture still rested within these walls. Draco had only been to this home once or twice before, and the house felt more like a stranger's than his own. The main entrance was a subtle yet ornate wooden doorway facing one of the main streets. It opened to a Spanish style courtyard, complete with a small fountain which Draco was surprised to see was still running.
"Well this is very...Spanish," Hermione said, sounding surprised.
She was following closely behind Draco to prevent herself from being locked out by Narcissa and Lucius, who were completely oblivious to her continued presence. This was the longest she'd been able to remain with Draco since she first began appearing (or whatever it was that was happening, she was still very confused). She briefly wondered at why she had stuck around so long this time, but was distracted by the home she now found herself in.
The walls of the courtyard were adorned with maroon and yellow mosaics. A distinctly Gryffindor combination, she decided. She was going to comment on exactly that, but when she took note of Malfoy's brooding expression, she chose to hold her tongue.
"We will rest until dinner, then we will meet my contact on Via Sombre," Lucius said, waving his wand at the door to unlock the various wards.
The air inside the town home held the same stale quality as the Swiss cottage, only this time there was a heavy layer of humidity to make it all the more suffocating. Lucius immediately began resetting the protective wards while Narcissa proceeded upstairs. Draco was conflicted. Hermione stood nearby, looking around the house with interest, and he didn't know what to do. Should he pretend she wasn't there? Should he demand she leave?
"Is this another of your family's homes?" Hermione questioned, looking around at the old furniture. "You must have a house in every European country!"
Draco didn't bother responding, deciding suddenly to act on his first impulse ignoring her completely. Maybe if he pretended she wasn't here, she would go away. He followed his mother up the stairs, his footsteps reverberating loudly against the old wood. The hallway at the top was narrow and dark, veering in two directions. He had to search through a few of the doorways to decide on which room was his. He'd never visited this house often enough to claim a single bedroom as his, so he settled now in one of the rooms overlooking the street. It was marginally smaller than many of the other rooms, but the street provided for ample distraction, not to mention the size reminded him of the cozy quality of the Swiss cottage.
"I've never been to Spain," Hermione commented, having followed him up the stairs. She was now peering out the large window, watching a woman carry a basket of laundry down the street.
"And you still haven't," Draco quipped, finally acknowledging her existence. "You're dead."
Hermione glared at him. "Thanks to you."
"You're welcome," Draco responded sarcastically, fingering through the books on the bedside table. He'd read them already, but only a few times.
"Do you think you could not be a complete bastard for just a few minutes?"
"What good would that possibly do, Granger?"
"I don't know, maybe you could figure out this predicament!"
"I don't know if it's occurred to you that I don't want to deal with this particular 'predicament' right now, I'm actually really busy being otherwise occupied with far more important matters—"
"No!" she shouted, a nasty scowl on her face. "You don't get to be 'otherwise occupied' you big jerk! You got us into this mess and you're going to get us out of it! I will not do this for all of eternity, Malfoy! I will not!"
Draco looked at her, seeing the desperate, almost deranged look in her eyes. An unexpected pang of guilt gripped his heart, but he quickly pushed it away. He was not going to feel guilty about killing her. He was following orders. He was doing what he had to do. This was war.
"Trust me, Granger, this is no picnic for me either," he assured her, pulling one of the books out of the stack and handing it to her. "You want out of this? Then get reading. You like doing that, don't you?"
Hermione grabbed the book from him, letting out a frustrated huff. "What's this got to do with anything…" she trailed off, reading the cover. Spirits and Souls in Dark Magic. Hmm, perhaps Draco wasn't a complete idiot.
Draco was incredibly alarmed that Hermione was still with him when it came time to meet Father's contact. He was sure she would have disappeared to wherever it was she went by then. It had almost been a full day, she'd never stuck around this long before. What was happening?
She'd read quietly in a chair next to his bed up until dinner, completely engrossed in the text. Draco had ignored her, focused on his own reading, instead. When it came time for tea, he left her reading in his room while he joined his parents. Dead people didn't eat, did they? Draco didn't think so, and Hermione made no move to join him. When he returned after dinner, she was still in the same chair, daylight fading rapidly. She turned to him as he stood conflicted in the doorway. Should he invite her with him? Order her to follow him? Tell her to leave again? He didn't know how to proceed.
Hermione decided for him. "Going somewhere?"
He just nodded, suddenly very distracted by the way the sunlight cast a reddish glow to her hair.
He was losing it.
"Let's go then," she said, standing up and setting the book on the windowsill.
The moon cast Via Sombre in a faint white glow, giving it the look of belonging to another world. The Wizarding street was alive with exotic cultures, people, and artifacts. Magic buzzed like a wild creature, unrestrained like the Spanish night.
Father was right, thought Draco, if a solution to the Dark Mark exists, we'll find it here.
Hermione had never seen anything like it. She had only ever been to Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, both of which were special in their own way, but Via Sombre was something else altogether. The shops varied from ordinary wizarding findings to things she had never heard of. There were wizards and witches from all over the world! And the magic, oh she had never felt such an intoxicating amount of magic in one place in her life. How could the Muggles nearby not feel it? This place practically radiated magical energy!
"We'll be meeting him at the apothecary," Lucius explained, weaving around a snake charmer who had set up his performance in the middle of the narrow street.
"Meeting who?" Hermione questioned close to Draco's ear. She was close, too close in Draco's opinion. He was unable to focus on much other than the proximity of her body to his. Losing it.
"A contact," he responded under his breath, hoping his voice was drowned out by the general sounds of the street and that his parents wouldn't hear him talking to nobody.
Hermione processed this with what she already knew about the situation. The Malfoys were hiding. Possibly from Voldemort? But why? Lucius was one of his most faithful servants, why would the Death Eater need to escape to the other side of the continent? She was perplexed. Perhaps this "contact" they were seeing would help clear things up. She knew Draco would never tell her anything, no matter how much she yelled at him that this was his fault.
The street got narrower, swallowing them whole as the lights dimmed around them. The store names became more and more obscure. Hermione read each of them with increasing confusion: Valdez Gems and Dark Stones, The Fountain of Youth, Moruuan's Spiritual and Deceased Readings—"Draco!"
She grabbed his arm to get his attention, as if her shout hadn't already succeeded in doing just that. Draco stared at her hand on his arm questioningly, wondering why he hadn't immediately shrugged her off. "What?" he quietly asked, finally prying her fingers from his forearm.
"Look!" she said, gesturing to the dark sign. He had to squint to read in the dark: Moruuan's Spiritual and Deceased Readings. Hmm. That did indeed sound promising, he had to admit.
"Its right around this corner. Hurry, Draco," Lucius said, jolting Draco from his thoughts. Now wasn't the time to deal with this madness. His main concern was his family, not Granger.
He shook his head at her. "No time," he said, following his father around the corner into the darkness.
End Note: Please review/follow/favorite/whatever! THANKS FOR READING!