CHAPTER FIFTY- Recluse
"Did you sleep at all?" Hermione asked as they ate a modest breakfast. "Hardly, but we don't have time to waste. Are you sure you want to join me?" Malfoy asked yet again. "Positive. Now let's get this tent down, shall we?" Hermione said.
After their few belongings were packed and their tent was deconstructed they slowly but carefully began to remove the shielding spells. "Wands at the ready and no magic unless absolutely necessary. Understood?" Malfoy ordered.
"I know the plan just as well as you Draco. I'm ready when you are," Hermione said removing the last spell.
The forest was silent. No animals, no wind, no Death Eaters. The stillness sent chills down her back. With wands drawn and cloaks wrapped tightly around them they began the slow hike to find the rouges.
For three days they searched from sun up to sun down for any sign of life. They ate when they were hungry and slept when they were tired but all in strict silence. No magic (which Hermione noticed made Malfoy very cranky), no breaking branches, no sign that they were there.
The hikes reminded Hermione of her father and the time they spent together when she was a child camping in the woods. Her heart grew heavy everyday with thoughts of her daughter's safety and her parent's safety being more and more unknown.
The sun was about to set on their fourth day when the silence finally broke. "Hermione," Malfoy whispered, "Put down your wand slowly." Malfoy's wand was already on the ground with his hands in the air.
"No! Are you mad? I'm not putting my wand dow-" Hermione whispered back before being met with, "Dammit woman, just do it! Look," he said nudging his head to what appeared to be a very old and beaten broomstick.
Slowly and carefully she placed her wand down. "We mean you and yours no harm," Malfoy spoke with a loud, clear voice. "My wife and I will not hurt you and ask that you return the favor," he said.
"Please," Malfoy pleaded. "We only want to talk," he finished with his hands still in the air. They received no answer but silence. "Just wait, they have to meet with us," he whispered to Hermione.
After minuets with their hands in the air they heard the crunching of snow. Hermione wanted nothing more than to grab her wand but she held out to see a figure come from behind the trees.
The woman who approached them was as wild and cold as the forest itself. The witch was nimble, covered in a thick cloak of fur, and had red hair red as fire dreaded down her back. The closer she got Hermione saw the fierceness of her green eyes and the fine wrinkles that were beginning to grow around them placing her age in her early thirties.
The witch's wand was drawn to meet Malfoy at eye level. "Why do you come to our forest?" She spoke. Her voice was as icy as the snow in her eyelashes. "We seek your help. Please, listen to us," he responded.
"We cannot help you. Leave this place," she said pushing her wand closer to Malfoy's eyes. "Atropa! Hear what they have to say," a small voice said from behind another tree.
"Get back, Pomona. I will handle this," the witch named Atropa instructed. Pomona was almost a carbon copy of the first witch but with half the harshness and several years younger.
"My sister is quick to judge. We will listen to you, but your wands remain with us." Pomona said as she went to collect the Malfoy's wands.
"Thank you," Hermione said to the pair as they slowly followed them. They lead the unarmed Malfoys into the densest part of the forest where the sun and snow could not make it past the trees.
"Sorry about this," a man's voice said suddenly behind them before everything went dark.