All the Wrong Things

Chapter 22

He stares down the end of my wand.

"You've made promises to each other then?" he confirms for himself, nodding. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

I blink at him, my fingers tightening on my wand. "We've made no promises. We... There is no 'we."

He stares at me. "This isn't a game for you though? Not a bit of fun before settling down with Pansy?"

Something wet rolls down my face. I pray that it's blood. "No," I say. "This... hasn't been fun for me." I lower my wand. "It's one-sided. She's not looking for me."

He just nods. And I don't have to ask again.

"I saw her and Weasley moving toward the second floor girls' bathroom," he says.

I jerk my head as a goodbye. I take off down the hall.

"Draco."

I spin back for him.

"I have 10,000. Probably more if we sell the vineyard." He shrugs. "It's yours."

I swallow and nod at him. "If I don't find you at the end, tell Pansy you never saw me."

I spin on my heel before I can thank him or say something meaningful about our friendship or beg him to come with me.

~*~

Saturday, February 26, 2000

I stay well after midnight the next day in Australia.

I head to Sweet Tooth in the morning to post a notice that the shop is closed for a week, and before I leave I place a few protective enchantments to keep any unsavory characters away.

Monica locks herself in the bathroom when the memory of an eight-year-old breaking her wrist pops through the haze and swarms her mind unbidden, with no other memories of her daughter to accompany it.

Wendell sits next to the bathroom door, whispering through the wood, and Dr. Flanders and I take a break to make lunch.

We haven't introduced magic yet. So, we can't open the door.

Dr. Flanders says we should save any magic for when they have grasped the first ten years. Only introduce them to Hogwarts and wizardry when they chronologically were introduced to it.

It's brilliant, really. But I just want to make a fucking pot of tea. And I don't know what these knobs and dials are for on this oven.

I couldn't tell the British Ministry exactly when I'd be coming back, so I have to go to the Australian Ministry for a Portkey. It's almost dawn when I finally find the statue outside of the Opera House, and follow the stairs down into the hidden Ministry.

I land on the moors outside the Manor in a bright sunset, and the time change hits me like a Bludger. I stumble for a moment, and once I can tell the difference between the ground and the sky, I start the trek up the stone path to the Manor.

To Hermione.

But first... Pepper-Up Potion. And a wash.

Once I'm fully awake again, I wander to the library, like a kite being reeled in.

She's deep in the stacks, nose stuck in an old volume that looks like it will fall apart in her fingers.

Her hair is down. And her dress is smooth and light against her waist and hips.

I can see them in her, more clearly now. Her mother's eyes. Her father's chin. Monica's graceful movements with Wendell's jerky thoughts pulling his body in all directions.