The Silver Envelope

Draco's Detour

Draco froze. Hermione read through the letter once more.
"She must be alright, since she sent this. But we should pay her a visit," she said.
Draco nodded.
Inviting S.P.E.W. over for a chat would have to wait. They needed to handle this now.

****

Diagon Alley was packed with midday shoppers when they arrived. Hermione had done the scarf charm on her head to conceal her hair again, and had even tweaked a few of her features in the mirror. Her new hooked nose and thin lips made her look middle-aged and largely unrecognizable.
As they walked through the bustling street, no one gave her a second look.
Draco kept his eyes sharp as they walked, one hand on his wand and the other ready to grab Hermione. He hated things like this. On a busy street, threats to her safety could lurk under every pointed hat and loose cobblestone. But Draco wasn't stupid enough to believe that he could have convinced Hermione to stay at home.
"Wait."
Draco had just spotted a few familiar faces gathered together in the lane ahead, outside Madam Malkin's. Marcus Flint had his arm draped around a simpering Pansy Parkinson. They were talking with Nigel Biggs and a man with dark hair and bushy eyebrows. It was Biggs that caught Draco's attention. He was on the list of people associated with Johanna Wolcroft he was her uncle, in fact. Draco knew him only in passing; Biggs worked for the Daily Prophet. Had probably gotten Johanna her job there.
In addition, Marcus Flint was associated indirectly with the list of Johanna's contacts, through his brother, William Flint. Johanna had dated William for a while, apparently.
Two people in that group were associated with Johanna, then. It could be a coincidence.
Then again, it might not be.
"Granger," Draco said quietly, placing a hand on Hermione's arm to stop her.
He took her to the side of the street so he could tell her what he was thinking, whispering the information in her ear to avoid any passersby hearing. Hermione peered at the group curiously as he spoke. She edged herself behind him slightly, hiding from them
As Draco shot another look at them, the group began to walk away from them, heading for Knockturn Alley. Nigel Biggs glanced behind his shoulder, checking that no one was following them.
They were up to something. He was almost certain of it.
"You should follow them," Hermione whispered. "I'll go check on Midgen."
Before Draco could protest that it wasn't safe for her to go off on her own, Hermione melted into the crowd.
He let out a low growl of frustration. Fucking Gryffindors. Next time they went out, he would insist on her wearing a leash. Based on how she'd behaved when he'd bound her hands in the library, she
might not even mind it.
Dismissing that intriguing thought for later, Draco slipped away to catch up with his quarries, keeping himself at a safe, inconspicuous distance. He paid particular attention to avoiding Pansy's gaze; if there was one thing he didn't want to do today, it was speak to his insipid ex-girlfriend.
Luckily, it seemed she was wrapped up in her newest conquest. Flint looked even more brutal than he had back in their Quidditch days, now smugly showing off the girl clinging to his arm adoringly.
Draco remembered when Pansy had been that way around him. He didn't miss it one bit.

The group stopped outside Borgin and Burke's. The one Draco didn't recognize went inside, while the rest of them stayed outside to smoke. Draco spotted two large barrels near them, stacked up high near the grimy side entrance of the shop. He ducked behind a passing wizard wearing a gigantic hat adorned with bat wings as he made his way closer, seamlessly slipping behind the barrels to hear them better.
*..so much better since I started using it. Haven't lost a single duel since then," Biggs was saying.
"Have you tried it with just your hands?" came Pansy's nasally voice. "He said it might work without a wand, but I haven't been able to do it yet."
"I tried it once. Didn't do much. Just felt sort of hot," Biggs responded.
"Warm hands around there is more than worth it," said Pansy. "I hate it there. It's freezing."
"It would be better if you could cast a decent Patronus." That had been Flint's rough voice.
"I've been trying! But I dunno, they suck the life out of you or whatever. It's hard," whined Pansy.
"Well you'd better keep practicing. She'll be out soon, and she won't tolerate anyone who can't handle themselves around the product." Biggs again.
Draco wondered who "she" was. Could it possibly be Johanna? It seemed unlikely that Johanna's uncle would refer to her with such deference.
"I can handle myself just fine!" Pansy retorted. "Besides, Marcus will cover for me, won't you, baby?"
"If I can," Flint said. "But you should practice. She won't want to keep anyone who can't pull their own weight around there."
"I pull my weight!" Pansy protested. "I keep them all in line, don't I?"
"Shut up, Parkinson," hissed another voice. Draco couldn't see well through the crack between the barrel and the stone wall of the shop, but he guessed the man with the bushy eyebrows had returned. "Merlin, I leave for one minute and you start prattling in the middle of the street! Flint, get control of your girl before she starts shouting all our secrets down the lane."
"I haven't said anything!" Pansy said.
The group began to walk away, still bickering a bit.
Draco waited for a moment before slipping out from behind the barrels, keeping his head down as he followed the group.
It was obvious that they had been hanging around Dementors, for some reason. Did they have a
meeting place somewhere in the Anobeith Woods? What reason could they have for going there?
He paused, unsure for a moment as the four of them walked toward an apothecary. Draco knew the place well; in certain circles, it was well-known as a place to buy illicit substances. He had done many under-the-table deals there.
Draco had taken his tonics earlier that week, but it still felt like a bad idea to go inside such a place.
He decided to wait outside instead. Surely they couldn't stay in the small shop for long.
Hermione would be waiting for him. Draco hadn't gotten a chance to talk with her about how long he would be. He wondered how long she would wait before she decided to march down Knockturn Alley to look for him herself.
Just as the group began to walk inside the apothecary, Pansy looked over her shoulder. Her eyes locked with Draco's, widening slightly.
Flint followed her gaze, and as Draco saw his face twist with vulgar interest, he knew he wouldn't be walking away without getting sucked into a very unpleasant conversation.

"Malfoy!" Flint called to him, waving him over.
Pansy looked put out at this, and clung to Flint harder as Draco strolled casually closer, a mask of impatient boredom on his face.
"Flint," Draco greeted them. Biggs and the other one had hung back as well, looking at Draco with curiosity. "Parkinson. How are you both?"
A smug, grimacing smile stretched Flint's face.
"We've been alright," he said, looking Draco up and down as if he wasn't impressed with what he saw. Draco found that laughable. Flint was a few inches shorter, many IQ points stupider, and several million Galleons poorer than he. Still, Draco knew what Flint was thinking as he sneered.
And it didn't take Flint long to say it.
"I heard you've been hanging round that mudblood," Flint said with a leer. "You been enjoying
Weasley's sloppy seconds then?"
"Have you been enjoying mine?" Draco asked coolly.
Pansy's jaw jutted out angrily as her cheeks heated. Flint's nostrils flared as he stared Draco down, cracking his knuckles.
"You'd better watch it, blood traitor," Flint said hoarsely. "No one cares who your father is anymore. So you and that muddy cunt you're fucking had better watch your backs."
Inside his pockets, Draco's fingers flexed. He badly wanted to draw his wand and teach Flint a lesson. But, at the moment, it was more important not to draw more suspicion onto himself.
Feigning bored indifference, Draco rolled his eyes.
"I suppose I should be insulted that you'd think I would ever shag Granger, but I'm mostly just glad you're keeping Pansy occupied. She can be a lot to deal with," he said.
Self-disgust bubbled in Draco's gut at the words, but they did their job. Flint's mouth twitched in an almost-smile. Pansy glared at her boyfriend.
"Are you just going to let him talk about me like that?" she asked, aghast.
Flint licked his lips, considering what to do. Draco went in for the kill.
Nodding at the door of the apothecary, he said, "If you're going in there for what I think you are, mention you know me. Igor will pull out the good stuff for you, much better than the usual swill."
And just like that, Draco had them all in the palm of his hand. Four sets of eyebrows raised at him.
Despite himself, Flint's smile broke through his ugly sneer, just a bit. Only Pansy still looked unhappy to see him.
Without waiting for them to respond, Draco dipped his chin in a polite goodbye, and walked straight past them all at an unhurried pace. He would have to make absolutely sure that no one was following him before heading back to Hermione.