Wednesday, 21st April 2004
As promised, Hermione left the next evening to purchase Wolfsbane for Malfoy. He hadn't tried to stop her, but she had caught his disapproving glare as she donned her cloak and slipped out of the front door. Trying to shake the annoyance that had curled about her shoulders, Hermione Apparated from the point near her flat, and soon found herself standing in the dingy Knockturn Alley.
It had not changed much since she had visited last, during the summer before her sixth year at Hogwarts. A shiver ran up her spine as she quickly moved past Borgin and Burkes, suddenly reminded that during that adventure, she had been spying on the very person she was now trying to help.
"Are you lost?" a cold voice came from the doorway of a small shop Hermione had not noticed in her hurry towards the apothecary. She whirled to face the speaker and was unable to keep the shock from her features as Lucius Malfoy stepped towards her.
"Mister Malfoy!" she all but gasped, her hand subconsciously clutching her cloak closed at her throat. "What are you doing here?"
She regretted the question immediately as he took another step forward, his slick blond hair shining in the dusk light. He smirked, a sardonic expression which left his eyes empty and cold.
"I could ask you the same question, Miss Granger." He drew out the pronunciation of her name, his gaze piercing.
Hermione shivered. "Research," she answered cryptically, pressing her lips together to prevent them from twitching.
"I see." He canted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he appraised her. "Anything I can help you with?"
"No, thank you." Hermione smiled tightly and inclined her head. "If you'll excuse me."
With that, she left him staring after her in the middle of the near-deserted street. She could feel his eyes on her as she hurried away. A shiver threatened at the base of her spine but she shrugged it off and forced herself not to turn around.
By the time she had reached the Apothecary at the end of the alley way, Hermione was feeling wrung out and was keen to get the potion and return immediately home. The bell tinkled as she entered the shop and she instantly placed her cloak across her nose and mouth as the stench of rotting seafood entered her nostrils.
"Hello?" she called, her voice muffled behind the thick black fabric.
Movement sounded from behind the counter at the back of the shop and Hermione made her way slowly towards it, taking care to keep the cloak over her face and only breathing in shallow bursts through her mouth.
"Can I help you?" A small witch with a nose Hermione was sure she could hang a coat on appeared behind the thin wooden desk.
"I need Wolfsbane," Hermione answered. "I sent an owl…"
"Ah, yes," she said, but did not move to retrieve the potion. Instead, she fixed Hermione with a vacant stare, her pale eyes glazed over.
"If you don't mind," Hermione muttered, "I'm in somewhat of a hurry."
"What did you need?" she said, a frown etched into her crepe-paper skin.
"Wolfsbane," Hermione enunciated, frustration flaring in her chest.
Surely she doesn't suffer short term memory loss, Hermione thought somewhat sarcastically. She seemed to know who I was when I told her about the owl...unless…
Hermione jumped to the side and watched the woman rummage in boxes in the storeroom behind the counter. Her back was to Hermione, her wide, robe-covered bottom jiggling as she bent lower over a small box resting on a wooden stool.
Slowly, robotically, the woman stood straight again and turned to face Hermione.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice a monotone. "I don't have what you are looking for."
"I owled you less than an hour ago!" Hermione narrowed her eyes and took a half a step backwards. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yes."
Hermione paused for just a fraction of a second before she nodded and turned on her heel. Something was definitely off, and if she had to guess, she would say that the old woman had been placed under the Imperius curse.
Morally, she warred with herself as her hand enclosed around the cool metal doorknob. The woman was obviously in danger, but if someone was snooping around it could jeopardise Draco's safety. Swallowing a frustrated growl, Hermione wrenched the door towards her and slipped into the night, apparating directly from the shopfront.
"Malfoy!" she called as she appeared in the lounge room.
"You rang?" He appeared in the hallway, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe.
"I couldn't get your potion."
"Oh." Draco pushed himself off of the wall and frowned. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine." She sighed, unclasping her cloak and collapsing onto the couch. "I think the apothecary witch was under the Imperius curse."
"Did you see anyone else in the Alley?" Draco demanded.
Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him, thrown by his sudden question. "Yes, actually," she answered. "Your father."
"My - my father?"
"Yes, I ran in to him before I got to the apothecary."
"What did he say?"
"He asked me what I was doing -"
"Fuck!"
"Excuse me?"
Malfoy stormed into the room, his hands clutching his head. He closed his eyes and managed to maneuver himself down the passage between the couch and coffee table, turning sharply after exactly three sides in each direction.
Hermione tucked her legs up so as not to trip him as she watched; twist and walk, twist and walk. She was beginning to think she should have stayed and demanded the wolfsbane, or confronted Lucius, or -
"Okay." He stopped pacing and slumped into the space next to her; their shoulders were now touching and Hermione was hyper-aware of the heat from his skin radiating through the sleeve of her shirt. "Tell me everything."
"There really isn't much more -"
"Everything," he repeated.
"Fine." She rolled her eyes, but ran through her visit to Knockturn Alley and her interactions with both Lucius and the apothecary witch.
Malfoy was silent when she had finished and she watched him as he stared straight ahead, mulling over her words.
"It had to be him," he said finally, breaking the silence like a cricket ball through a window. "If he has the slightest inkling that you're trying to help me -"
"How would he string that together?" Hermione scoffed. "I'm the liaison for werewolf welfare; I could be testing a new brew, or picking up supplies for a Camp." Malfoy wrinkled his nose but did not respond. "In all honesty, I'm more concerned about not having Wolfsbane on hand."
"I told you I'll leave."
"And I told you that I won't allow it." She moved her head infinitesimally to the left and caught his eye. He opened his mouth to argue but a lightbulb had gone off in Hermione's brain. "That's it!" she cried, leaping to her feet.
"What's it?"
"The Ministry stores! I'll just steal enough for one week's worth of Wolfsbane!"
"You're insane."
"I'd be more insane if I let a werewolf go without Wolfsbane the week before their transformation while they're a guest in my home."
Malfoy began to protest, an almost feral growl rumbling within his chest as frustration bubbled over, but Hermione simply held up a hand and repeated that it would be irresponsible of her not to at least try to borrow some of the potion from the Ministry.
"Borrow," Malfoy muttered under his breath, but Hermione heard him as she turned on her heel and left the room.
Yes, Malfoy, she thought with a smirk. Borrow.