Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love

Chapter 5: The Keepers

They drove in silence for a little while. Granger looked preoccupied. Her thumb tapped at the steering wheel and she was worrying her lip.

"It's going to be busy this afternoon," said Granger at length. "At the Gardens, I mean. Let's try to keep a low profile. We have to go through the gift shop to buy tickets to go in, but after that we'll be able to go into the gardens themselves and avoid the worst of the crowds."

"I can keep a low profile," said Draco.

Granger gave him a side-eye in lieu of response.

"Does the water have magical properties?" asked Draco. "Why do the Muggles even know about it?"

Granger sat up straighter and took a breath, and Draco realised that had activated Swot Mode.

"The wellsprings in this area have been in use by both Muggles and magical folk for millennia," said Granger. "It would've been too difficult to wipe the entire thing from so many minds after the Statute of Secrecy, I suppose. But, to answer your question, Muggles only know of two water sources in Glastonbury: one they call the White Spring, and one they call the Red Well. No real magical properties in either, though Muggles have ascribed their own spiritual and mythological significance to both. They have stories linking them to the Holy Grail, and King Arthur (he's meant to be buried in Glastonbury Abbey), and other bits of legend."

They were now approaching the outskirts of town. Granger turned at a sign pointing to the Chalice Well Gardens.

"But," she continued, "there's a third wellspring, one that you won't find in the Muggle brochures. It's called the Green Well. That one has bona fide magical properties. I need–" here Granger hesitated, but seemed to decide that Draco would work it out anyway "–I need a sample from it."

"For your project."

"Yes."

"And why at Imbolc, specifically?"

"You're being rather too inquisitive," said Granger. Draco felt that she meant meddlesome, but had chosen the more polite option.

"I suppose the well reaches its highest magical potency at Imbolc," said Draco.

Granger made no answer.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

He saw her glance at the glovebox, wherein lay the Sneakoscope, promising to give away blatant lies.

"Stop being so curious," said Granger.

"That's a bit rich, coming from you."

She scoffed. "Being curious is literally my job. I'm a researcher. Your job is to protect me from Forces Unknown, not interrogate me on a highly confidential, proprietary project."

Granger pulled into a parking spot, turned off the car, and waited for his retort.

This witch was – something. Draco had never endured such unrelenting points and counterpoints. He rather felt that, if he'd been keeping track of the score, he'd be the losing party.

"I'm not a bodyguard. I wasn't assigned to you to clomp along brainlessly behind you," said Draco.

"No. You're a highly trained, highly competent Auror and this is an utter waste of your time." Granger took a breath, visibly suppressing her irritation at the entire situation.

The opening compliment elicited a tiny spark of delight, quickly suppressed by Draco. He didn't care what Granger thought of him.

A group of Muggles passed the car, distracting the both of them. Mutually deciding on an unspoken truce – very temporary, Draco was sure – they climbed out of the car.