The Hard Road
Chapter 24
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Moon rise came fast, leaving him totally uninterested in ancient family marriage rites. What would Miss Swotty Pants say if he revealed the name of the vow she had been suckered into taking? The thing was, he had no desire to be around when it really kicked in she came knocking with a demand for satisfaction.
Teddy zoomed down the halls, laughing and turning cartwheels as he ran. His hair flicked back and forth through a rainbow of colors while golden yellow fiery eyes lit the shadows. The boy's endless smile revealed a mouthful of pointy teeth.
They burst out the back door at a lope that would have left olympic sprinters in the dust. The treeline came up fast and they ducked branches. The boy was galloping hard to keep up as he jogged off into the woods. They jumped and slid and scrabbled up dry stream banks and the clambered up trees and leapt from branch to branch.
The boy's stomach started rumbling before his, so they slowed to a crawl and sniffed. The boy tore off after a guinea fowl, but the flock exploded into ear splitting squalling as they flew up into the tops of the trees. Draco hauled him back and shushed him. "If we want to eat, we'll have to be more careful."
Their noses went up and Draco took the point, letting the light breeze bring the night scents their way. Half a mile of sniffing put them on the scent of some deer, but Teddy dashed off after them every time they snuck into sight. He was crosseyed from hunger and the boy was gnawing holes into his shirt sleeves when he just gave up and accio'd for a rabbit. The brambles at his feet shook and twisted and a brown flash shot out at him. He caught the cartwheeling blur and tore into it. He ripped off the hind quarters for the boy, who nearly choked on the fur as he stuffed the legs down his gullet.
This first appetizer barely accomplished anything besides making him hungrier.
Both of their noses shot up and they scented the bushes for more tasty morsels. Magpies, titmice, woodcocks, squirrels, and even an unlucky hedgehog evaporated into the black hole that was their stomachs. The trouble was that these tiny forest creatures barely made a mouthful. The entire evening was turning into one giant search for food. The glittering moon's kiss on his skin brought clarity. It was no coincidence that The Legion had pens full of goats. If he wanted to maintain any semblance of sanity, domesticated livestock were a necessity. Nobody would ask questions about a herd on the manor grounds.
While this information wasn't the typical sort of request for Maltby, he summoned him anyway. The old elf appeared with a crack and didn't even bat an eye at his new form. Teddy, on the other hand was drooling and kept reaching for the elf's floppy ears.
As luck would have it, a farmer was leasing a hundred acres of pasture on the back side of the property. Old hedgerows and crumbling stone walls flashed past in a blur as they ran. Half an hour's jaunt found them staring at a hundred head of sheep milling about in the middle of a field.
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The first purples of the false dawn found an exhausted Teddy slung over his shoulder as Draco mounted tall stair cases and tucked the boy into bed. Now, he cursed his own foolishness for not allowing half a day to laze around in the bed after a moonlight romp.
But no, like a fool, Draco had outsmarted himself with an appointment with the bushy headed shrew. Worse, the nature of her vow meant she would be tracking him down if he didn't show up.
Granger was slouched against a cement column in the Eurostar station when he caught up. Her eyes were black rimmed, and every part of her looked utterly exhausted, from her rumpled skirt to the mass of limp hair heaped like dry straw over her head.
He did a double take, and raised his nose to make sure this wasn't some sort of reanimated corpse in disguise, but the only thing he picked up under the scent of cheap shampoo was the latest werewolf interred by the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures. It shouldn't have been possible, but she was even more emaciated than before. Granger's skin was drawn drum tight over her cheekbones and sunken eye sockets. Her shirt hung like a bag over a skeleton. The woman was clearly succeeding in her mission to starve herself completely to death.
You gave Potter your word. He repeated it and then offered his hand. She griped a bit as he escorted her to their first class cabin. Inside was a platter of fresh bread rolls, dried sausages, cheeses, figs, grapes, irish butter, clotted cream, and three flavors of jelly as well as coffee and tea. She settled into the seat, staring at the food. Her stomach was rumbling and her lips were wet as she watched. He said, "Can I offer you some breakfast?"
"I have my own money. I don't want your charity."
He closed his eyes and let his breath trickle out. He heaped a plate full, set it on the table in front of her, and then asked, "Coffee or tea?"
She glared at him, but it was a fine opportunity to use his wordless Occulemens. Four sugar packets and cup half full of cream went in with two bags of Earl Grey. He set it beside her plate and made himself a small continental breakfast and a cup of coffee. He was picking at it when she said, "I know Harry roped you into this. Can we just quit with the pretense."
He slowly sipped and set the french porcelain cup down. Trees whipped by as they blazed through the English countryside towards the coast. He let out a sigh. "Harry and I spent six months in the same cell in Azkaban. You probably won't believe me. I consider him my closest friend, but the oath he put you under..."
He laid the worn book of Black family magical vows before her. Draco flipped it to the marked page and reclined into his seat. Her eyes flicked back and forth. Her mouth dropped open, and black fury flickered behind her brown eyes. "What is this? Harry would never put me under an oath like this."
"Harry is a wonderful man, and cares deeply for his friends, but he doesn't always take the time to research magic he doesn't understand."
"No. This can't be right." Tears beaded her eyes and drizzled down her cheeks.
He touched her hand. "I'm sorry. We both know this it was not intentional on his part. He simply wanted you to go to his Christmas party and have a good time. My mother has people working on it. The nature of your vows appear to be reversible unless we..." He pursed his lips. "Consummate it. I just want to make sure we are intentional and careful."
She stared down into the cup. Her sadness slowly sobbed out. Porcelain rattled as she lifted the cup and sipped. Her stomach was now gurgling and squelching, and she said, "You could have at least let me pay my own way."
"You don't deserve to be made into a concubine. You aren't a willing participant in this."
"Fine." She huffed out a slow breath and made a small sandwich out of bread, a chunk of cheese, and a thick slice of salami. She was staring at her breakfast, but when he turned back from the window, every morsel was gone and the scent of magic lingered in the air.
"Did you actually eat anything, or just vanish it?"
She glared at him, but he continued, "I would rather not have to use the vow, but I can't hear anything over your stomach."
She sniffed, and said, "It's the preservatives. They make everything taste off, like it's all been stewed with a dead kneazle."
His own plate was barely touched for the same reason. "I agree. The figs must have been dipped in a vat of sulfur dioxide. They definitely went overboard on the nitrites in the salami, and I'm not a fan of processed cheese."
Her glare softened. "So you smelled it too?"
He touched her hand. "It is not just you. Many of the men in The Legion have extremely sensitive palates. You really don't appreciate fresh food until you've had it.
Her lip quivered. "I'm so hungry, but everything reeks, and everyone at The Ministry acts like I'm crazy."
The hallway lead through two train cars towards the locomotive to the dining car. The tuxedo clad waiter seated them at a table dressed in white linen. Draco followed his nose to the kitchen and found the chef. The scent of half a dozen wesen hung in the air. The chef greeted him, and he instantly recognized the wolfish scent of bludbaden. He flicked fiery yellow into his eyes and got a nod and fiery red eyes in return. He palmed the man a hundred euro note and whispered his in his ear, "My girl's stomach is a little off this morning, if you know what I mean. What have you got that's extra fresh and has no preservatives?"
The man nodded knowingly and clapped him on the shoulder. "What are you up for? bread? soup? I've got some really nice dry aged steaks. Fresh trout. Lamb chops?" Then the chef leaned in close. "I've got a rack of kehrseite ribs in the back, harvested the day before yesterday, and some bauerschwein, if that tickles her fancy. Bring her back here, and I'll set you up."
The bauerschwein sounded particularly good to him, with lamb coming in close second. An itch gnawed back of his skull. Granger gave off a creepy, predatory vibe that simply didn't fit the rest of her mind-numbingly plain persona. The chef and kitchen help must have caught on, as they somehow managed to keep him between Granger and themselves.
Unlike their prior gastronomic catastrophe, Granger was now gorging on blue rare steak and lamb with grilled asparagus and fresh vegetables. He held out a hand. "Stop before you throw up."
"It's like I've never eaten food that's fresh and clean like this."
The chef and wait staff beamed. He slid a vial of Rosencrantz's super wiggenweld across the table. "This will help speed up your digestion."
She jerked back and cringed when the first vapors hit her nose. "Merlin's ghost that's disgusting."
"Think you can identify it?"
She quirked an eyebrow at him and unscrewed the cap. "Wiggenweld with rotten fish, vinegar mother, and something tinny."
He waited as she pondered, then she continued. "I think that was steroids. There's definitely something that smells... Rotting."
He nodded. "Digestive enzymes and cultures."
She stared at him for a moment. The gears in her brain were turning, but he waited. Suddenly, her the corner of her lip perked. "You said this was from a medical witch in The Legion?"
"She's both a medical doctor and has a PhD degree in bio-chemistry. Brilliantly smart."
She stared at the bottle again. "The French are big on digestion. Circe, I'm full." She wiggled the vial between her fingers. "Ah, what the hell."
With that, she chugged it down. Her face twisted and her mouth drew open. She gagged a few times as her face turned green. Her eyes bulged. She fanned and stuffed her head into a trash can, her stomach clenched, her mouth drew open, and a giant burp rolled out that stank of rotten fish. Two seconds later, drool slicked her chin. Granger snarled at him when he pulled her hands out of the garbage and sat her at the table. She gorged when the waiters brought her heaping platters full of meat, vegetables, potatoes, soups and beans, rice and gravy. She shoveled it down without chewing. Her eyes glittered as the plate full of bauerschwein tartare slid down the hatch. An hour later, he passed hundred euro notes around to the chefs and wait staff, and then settled the five-thousand euro bill.
The black ringing Hermione Granger's eyes dissipated as her sunken cheeks filled out. The sharpness of her eyesockets softened as her face started to round out, and color bloomed into her transparent skin.
"Wow, that was truly disgusting, but whatever that stuff is, I need the recipe." Her fingers drifted through her hair. There were more questions hanging on her tongue, but she yawned.
Back in their cabin, she plunked down, barely missing his lap when she slid into the seat. "Do you mind if I take a look at that book again." He passed it and she began reading. A few minutes later, she slumped into the crook of his shoulder. Heavy breaths turned to soft snoring. They still had a little over an hour to Paris, and he had been up all night. Sleep was contagious, and soon, his eyes fluttered closed.