Ginny hummed gently under her breath as she adjusted Harry's invisibility cloak on Hermione's shoulders.
"Remind me how you got this again?" Hermione asked, looking down at the space where her arms should have been, though she knew they were nestled safely under the cloak she still found their absence somewhat disconcerting.
"By being sneaky," Ginny shrugged, shooting Hermione a small smile before stepping back to admire her work. "There, now all you need to do is lift it over your head and we are well away." Hermione nodded taking another deep breath. It couldn't go wrong, no one would be able to see her, and Ginny had assured her that if for whatever reason she was caught, there were a whole number of likely backup stories she could call upon. Hermione was sceptical, but then again, Ginny did have Fred and George for brothers, she figured she must have picked up something from their antics.
"Run me through the plan again?" Hermione asked unsteadily, and Ginny sighed, giving Hermione a pointed look which she tried not to shrink under. They had gone through the plan countless times, obsessing over every detail because Hermione wanted to be sure. Now though, she knew her questions were betraying just how worried she actually was.
"Are you sure you want to do this? I haven't seen you this nervous since I offered some impromptu flying lessons." Hermione frowned at Ginny, hoisting her small bag onto her shoulder trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies that felt as though they were trying to batter their way out of her stomach.
"Of course, I'm sure, I just feel that I need to be absolutely certain of what I'm doing." Ginny sighed, taking a seat on the bed behind her and picking up a small royal blue box, the sides of which were decorated with all manner of magic pictures. It was a child's toy whose twin was nestled safely in the bottom of Hermione's bag. Ginny had dug them out of the twin's belongings and Hermione guessed that Fred and George's decision to take them to Grimmauld Place had very little to do with sentimentality.
Ginny tapped the top of the box and a small wizard sprang out of its confines, his shrill voice announcing Lumos as he waved his tiny smiled a little when the tip of the wizard's wand glowed faintly.
Hermione grit her teeth to fight back a twinge of jealousy. The toy made it so very obvious that Ginny had been surrounded by magic her whole life, had been given magical toys such as these when she was a child, had laughed and giggled at the delight they brought, and all the while learnt about something that was such a huge part of herself, and she had not. Hermione had always felt that she'd fallen into step with the wizarding world far too late and as such had done her utmost to prove that those years didn't matter. She supposed they didn't, not really. Still, watching Ginny press the wizard back into his small box, she couldn't help the niggling thought that they would have been nice.
"Right, so first things first, it was making everyone think that you're not feeling one hundred per cent. Not enough for mom to crack out the famous Podie Mills 'cure all ills' Potion," Ginny gave a violent shudder at the thought. Hermione had never been subjected to the potion, but she had it on good authority from all of the Weasley households that it was, both disgusting and utterly useless, "but just enough for you to disappear off to bed with very little chance of anyone disturbing you."
Hermione nodded, that part of the plan had been relatively successful, with Ginny quickly brushing off any of her Mother's suggestions that leant even slightly towards Podie Mills' devil brew.
"Me, being the amazing friend that I am, offered to keep you company. So that should stop anyone having a nose. And if they do visit, for whatever reason. I can be a buffer to send them on their merry way."
"And if Fred and George turn up?" Hermione worried her bottom lip at the thought of them finding out. They would probably want to know everything, be in on the little scheme and Hermione knew that absolutely could not happen. If either one of them found out she was meeting Draco, they would no doubt trail her, so they could curse jinx him all the way back to Malfoy Manor.
"If my idiot brothers turn up, I tell them you're on some boring booky errand that is a secret for studying next near and watch them practically die of boredom," Ginny said dryly, meeting Hermione's worried gaze, "they won't turn up though. Those two have been distracted all holiday. They aren't going to suddenly take an interest in your comings and goings." Hermione knew that Ginny had a point, but he also knew that the twins could change, just when you thought you'd gotten used to their pattern of behaviour.
"That all sorted, you are going to use Harry's cloak, which he won't miss, not on Christmas Eve. Any listening in, we have the extendable ears." Ginny said quickly, cutting off the argument that Hermione was about to make, one she had made several times. "You'll use the cloak to sneak out to that old bat's place."
"Durie." Hermione amended. It had taken a while to get used to the fact that Ginny no longer remembered the strange and beautiful character that was Durie, instead, recalling a rather senile old woman that had tried to feed them mouldy biscuits.
"Yes, yes and then use her magical doors to take you home, where you are going to meet Malfoy. At the church is it?" Hermione nodded quickly, the butterflies in her stomach kicking the activity up a notch at the mention of his name.
"Anything goes wrong here," Ginny held up her Wizard in the box, "I push this guy down and yours should spring up," she paused a moment laughing, "Gosh it's a good job the twins aren't here." Hermione found herself chuckling along nervously, anxious to get going but petrified to take the first step. Everything about it felt like a betrayal, even though, realistically, it was nothing so drastic.
"If the wizard goes back in his box quick, I've diverted the issue, if he stays out, then get back here as quick as possible." Hermione nodded looking at the small wizards' toy in her friends' hand.
"I can't believe we are using toys to communicate," Hermione mumbled, and Ginny chuckled.
"Genius really when you think about it, no one would suspect." Hermione found herself feeling a little easier at those words because no one would suspect. Just like the innocent and understated toy, Hermione knew that no one would suspect her of doing anything so daring. They would all assume that she was in bed and unless by some strange magical miracle, one of them somehow had invisibility cloak x-ray vision, no one would catch her.
"You ready?" Hermione nodded quickly, taking one last deep breath and pulling the cloak over her head.
"Can you see me?"
Ginny shook her head, "Just an old room and some dust."
"Right, let's do this."
Sneaking out had been a lot easier than Hermione had expected. Everyone was sat in the front room, their voice filtering through the small gap in the door. It was obviously a serious conversation, but Hermione, to her regret, knew she couldn't stick around to listen in, she was already running a little late as it was. When she'd reached the front door, she'd expected it to at least creak, signalling her betrayal to everyone. But it didn't, and Hermione silently thanked Ginny for the forethought of slathering the hinges in Not-A-Peep solutions, once again courtesy of the twins who liked to keep a bottle about before their times of apparating here, there and everywhere.
When Hermione finally made it out the house she stood on the doorstep, hardly able to believe that she'd managed it, breathing in the cool air of the night, free to do as she liked. Of course, she'd never doubted the plan, only her ability to pull it off. She knew that this what not how she was supposed to be and if Harry or Ron found out they would most likely narrow their eyes as if looking at something unfathomable. Hermione felt an indignant pride within her, because this was her, sneak out on an evening to go meet a boy. She wondered if this side to her that Malfoy seemed to draw out was there all along, just overshadowed by everyone's expectation that she, Hermione Granger, would always stick to the rules.
Shaking her head, she hurried down the steps to Grimmauld Place and out onto the snow-covered streets, locating the alleyway rather easily, the barbershop pole now hanging completely upside down and swaying with a squeak in the lick of breeze that moved through the street. Flakes of snow skittered along the surface of the blanket of white, kicked up into little plumes that seemed to burst and scatter. Hermione revelled in the silence, noting the fact that if anyone had followed her, she would be aware of their presence almost instantly.
Durie's house was even more beautiful than Hermione remembered, and the Gryffindor found herself stilled by the sight, mouth hanging open slightly. Tiny flowers of silver and gold poked through the thick layer of snow that covered the vines, their petals so bright that they seemed to glow softly against the white. Various pots that littered in front of the house were overflowing with varying flowers all of which were either red or green. Amidst the sea of blossoms stood Durie herself; arms crossed and a large smile on her beautiful face.
"I'm glad you didn't wait too long to take me up on my offer." Hermione whipped her head around quickly at Durie's words, checking to see if there was anyone behind her, certain there was no way that she could be seen under Harry's cloak.
"Come in, come in. No use dithering about in the cold. Also, I have it on good authority that you are late." Hermione was left with little choice but to follow, stepping over the threshold of Durie's home cautiously, only removing Harry's cloak when the door was shut behind her. Durie quickly relieved her of it, placing it on a low hanging branch that stretched from the tree that seemed to form the frame of the doorway.
"How did you…" Durie waved her hand quickly as if such a question were an annoying fly.
"Oh, such things don't work with me, just the way it is." Durie quickly gestured that Hermione should follow her up to the second floor, hopping up the stone steps so quickly that Hermione was certain that her feet could not have possibly touched the ground. Hermione, however, took her time, once again taking in the wonders of Durie's home, her curiosity over-riding any other thoughts, even those of Draco.
"Come, come my dear, time will only wait so long," Durie stated, clapping her hands together as she stopped before a white door, thick vines of the richest green created a border, blue lilies opening up with dusty plumes of pollen that hung golden and fragrant in the air, "you will need to go through this door, if I am correct. Home is it?" Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, much to Durie's delight.
"I thought…You said that you couldn't get involved with the magical world." Durie tipped her head warmly, reaching out to tap Hermione on the nose.
"Doors are doors, my dear. They will always lead to places whether I will it or not. And besides, what did you expect by coming here? I'm certain you did not come for tea."
"But how do you know about-about everything else." Durie laughed heartily.
"You are both very interesting. Young and new but old and ancient. My knowing things and helping a fraction, well, that's hardly here nor there to the wizarding community. Besides, what's a little mischief to put some life into these old bones?"
Durie tapped her arms and Hermione had to stop herself from scoffing, Durie looked anything but old, her skin lacking in any sort of imperfection or blemish. Durie had the look of something that had been dreamed into existence, too perfect to ever really be of the world. Hermione opened her mouth to voice the mass of questions that crowded her mind, but Durie tutted, shaking her head. Gently she grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and steered her towards the door.
"There is always time for questions, but not now. When you want to return, knock three times and think of me" Before Hermione had time to object the door was opened and she stumbled out into deep snow, the large clock face on the tower of the church telling her that Durie had been right, she was late. She and Draco had arranged to meet for eight and it was already half past. Crunching through the snow she glanced around for the blonde Slytherin, circling round to the other side of the church before his voice emanated from the darkness, making her jump.
"You're late, Granger."
"Fashionably so." Hermione sniffed, lifting her head as Draco stepped out of the shadows. He looked good, clad all in black, right down to his scarf and woollen hat.
"Perhaps you could explain that to rather important parts of me that have emigrated to my chest cavity."
"That seems like an exaggeration." Hermione sniffed as he stepped towards her, hunching his shoulders against the chill.
"I wish it were." He whined, sticking out his bottom lip for added effect. Hermione rolled her eyes but found herself grinning up at him. It felt good seeing him again, all her previous worries seeming to melt away, lost somewhere in the back of her mind.
"Loving the hat, Granger." Draco murmured, reaching up to squeeze the woollen bobble that sat atop her head. It had been a gift from Mrs Weasley, and, though the orange and red of it made her head a tiny beacon, she had to admit that it was incredibly warm and cosy to wear.
"Yes well, comfort over fashion." Trying to ignore the way he smiled at her.
"No, it suits you, Granger." She wasn't sure whether it was a genuine or back-handed compliment, but her heart raced at it none the less, her eyes flickering to his pale lips. She realised what she was doing with horror and instantly looked away, digging the toe of her shoe into a snow drift that was almost completely covering the front of an old gravestone.
"Yes well, we better get going," Hermione commented, it was quite a distance to Masarvas Manor, although Draco had assured her that such a distance while flying was hardly anything, she wasn't convinced, especially considering the fact that she was not at all sure she'd be able to get on the broomstick let alone fly particularly fast.
Draco made short work of jumping onto his broomstick, shifting forward on the handle to make space for her behind him. Once he'd made himself comfortable he looked up at Hermione expectantly, slightly confused as to why she hadn't already hopped on board. He bit back a laugh when he noticed her suspicious gaze roving over both him and the broomstick, her whole body seeming to draw away from it.
Hermione had never been good at flying, not since her rather drastic and unfortunate experiences with it in first year, since then she had done everything within her power to keep herself out of the air and on solid ground. Of course, she had kept this little of nugget of information from Malfoy, fearing that he would laugh at her or use it against her, so when their plans had strayed in the direction of flying to Masarvas Manor, she had simply nodded mutely and pushed back the fear with the assertion that she would effectively deal with the issue when it was time. Now the time had arrived, and she still did not feel like dealing with the issue. It was the only way to get to the Manor safely and without anyone tracing their movements, but Hermione found herself mulling over whether any of that really mattered.
"Don't tell me you don't like flying?" Draco asked, eyes widening as he shook his head in disbelief.
"If I was meant to fly, I'd have been born with wings." Hermione pointed out, adjusting the strap of her bag, simply for something to do with her hands.
"Or the ability to use magic." Draco countered, and Hermione quickly shut her mouth, unable to think of an apt rebuttal to such a valid argument.
"I just…I've never really seen the appeal." Drago laughed, kicking off gently and flying gracefully towards her, the broomstick hovering mere inches off the ground, his toes brushing the surface of the snow leaving twin trails behind him.
"You just haven't been doing it right, or with the right person." Hermione couldn't help but laugh as he wiggled his eyebrows, some of the knotted fear in her stomach unravelling.
"I don't know."
"Come on, Granger, trust me."
"I thought you said trusting you was a bad idea?"
"Not with flying. I'm pretty much a pro." Hermione considered his statement and had to concede that he was telling the truth. He had always seemed to be exceptionally skilled at flying, right from first year, surpassed it seemed only by Harry. She went to step forward but hesitated.
"What if I fall off the back?" Draco considered this for a moment before shuffling back down the broomstick, creating ample space in front of him.
Hermione took a deep breath, she had faced worse things than flying in her time and there was no way she was going to let it stand in the way of her discovering new things about Mina and Edward. She lifted her leg over the broomstick, her heart hammering when Draco's hand held her hip, steadying her as she made herself comfortable in front of him. She had to bite back a gasp when he shifted forwards, his legs pressed against her, his chest flush against her back, arms wrapping around her to grip the broomstick in front of her. His chin rested on her shoulders as he gently spoke in her ear.
"You won't fall like this, see? No matter what happens, I've got you." Hermione tried her very best not to shiver as his breath ghosted her ear, nodding that she understood. She could feel his heart thumping against her back, just as erratically as hers and she took comfort in it, knowing that his fear had nothing to do with flying. "You ready." Hermione was nowhere near ready and she knew she never would be, but she forced herself to nod, even as she scrunched her toes, hoping that they might act as some sort of anchor to the earth, stopping them from taking off. It didn't work, however, and they rose easily, the church below them rapidly becoming a speck amidst the white.
Hermione closed her eyes, drawing back as far as she could from the open air that seemed to race towards her. Draco's chest rumbled as he chuckled at her, shaking his head.
"This is precious." Hermione pursed her lips, refusing to open her eyes at his words, even though her stomach tightened as his lips gently brushed the shell of her ear.
"I don't see what is so funny." Hermione bit out.
"Really? Brave Gryffindor petrified of flight."
"It's not the flying that scares me, more like the falling." Draco's arms unconsciously tightened around her, actually managing to make her feel a little safe in spite of the fact that only a measly broom handle sat between her and certain death.
"I won't let you fall, you know?"
"Won't you?" Hermione challenged, and Draco once again laughed at her.
"No, I won't." They were silent for a few moments, the wind whistling past them, cold and littered with small flakes hinting at another shower of snowfall yet to come. Hermione hoped that it would hold off at least until they reached the Manor, being caught in a blizzard while flying seemed like the least favourable thing for her to do on Christmas Eve.
"You know there's a beauty to flying." Draco murmured nonchalantly in her ear.
"And what would that be?" Hermione answered, sceptically.
"The sights, the air, the freedom of it all."
"I beg to differ." Hermione had still yet to open her eyes, so sights were definitely not something she could take in, let alone begin to enjoy, the air was cold and biting at her cheeks and as for freedom, she got that feeling a hundred-fold when sat in the warmth of a library, her mind able to go anywhere, research and learn anything.
"You do, do you?" Hermione nodded quickly, scared that too much movement would send them off balance and hurtling towards the towns that lay below.
Hermione was so busy keeping her eyes clenched shut and her mind happily somewhere else, that she failed to noticed Draco taking one hand off the broomstick, only becoming aware of it when it pressed against her stomach. She sucked in a breath, her eyes snapping open at the feeling of magic sinking through the layers she wore and warming her skin. He anchored her against himself, holding her there as he spoke.
"Hold on tight, Granger."
"What do you mean hold on tigh…" Hermione's words were ripped from her as Draco aimed the broomstick upwards, letting the broom shoot forwards at such an impressive speed that Hermione found it difficult to draw breath into her lungs. She gripped the handle so hard that she was sure there would be wood beneath her fingernails, in spite of the thick gloves she wore. She scrunched eyes shut again, focusing on Draco's hand that was still holding her tightly. He wouldn't let her fall, he wouldn't hurt her. All her thoughts seemed somewhat tenuous when he was the reason they were hurting through the air at such a needless speed.
Suddenly they levelled out, the broom slowing to a much more leisurely pace. Draco's head was on her shoulder again, his laughter resonating throughout her when he noticed that her eyes were closed.
"Granger." He whispered, and Hermione shook her head.
"I'm not talking to you."
"Fine but, you're going to want to see this."
Hermione didn't really want to listen to him, but the way he said it made her almost believe that it wasn't one of his jokes, but something rather more serious that he wanted to share with her. She opened her eyes and immediately gasped, hand covering her mouth before she could even think about the fact that only one hand now gripped the handle. They'd completely moved through the thick clouds and they lay like a carpet beneath them, tiny gaps the only hint that there was anything below. Above her, the night sky was inky black, covered with stars that felt close enough to touch, but she knew they were millions of miles away.
"Stars above and below," Draco mumbled to himself and Hermione realised that he was right, as she noticed that the towns below, peeking through the gaps, were forming little constellations of their own.
"It's beautiful."
"Told you it wasn't that bad."
"Yes, well, you could have gone about it a bit better."
"And spoil the surprise?" Hermione shook her head, suppressing a smile.
"I don't think anything could have spoilt this." It wasn't very often that Hermione thought about the vastness of everything, but there floating high up with Draco she felt incredibly small, like her actions, though seemingly grand to her, actually had very little consequence. She supposed it was that overwhelming feeling that made her sink back into him with a sigh, placing her gloved hand over his, letting their fingers lace. Whatever Draco thought he didn't protest, just tightened his grip and let his hand stay beneath hers, his nose slightly buried in the loose curls that sprang from underneath her hat.
If there was ever a moment that Hermione became certain that Draco spending time with her had nothing to do with Voldemort, that was it and it comforted her all the way to Masarvas Manor.