You appear even-tempered though your looks will deceive.
And the sparks are always flying 'cause you drink for relief.
With the heart of a child and the will of a fool.
It's a wonder why I don't try to build a wall around you.
Full circle by Half Moon Run
XX
The next morning, Draco left before sunrise. He if was to find the mermaid, it was going to be on his own. He packed a bag with clothes and money. If he was seen by a royal guard, or his beloved father, he was screwed. He could not afford any mistake in his plans. He pulled down the hood of his dark green cape over his head.
He ran down to halls to the stables against the wall, in hope not to be seen.
He was lucky the stable boy was not awake yet. He untied his white horse, Slytherin, and walked in direction of the large door of the palace. He spoke in parseltongue to warn the horse about his plan. The horse answered back is agreement to go on an adventure.
No, he could not be seen. Going through the front gates was equivalent to yelling ''I'm going and please warn my father, thank you very much.'' He had to use his secret passage, under the castle. It was the first king of Hogwarts land, Salazar Slytherin, who had thought about a secret tunnel, an escape plan in case of attack from their enemy, the Gryffindor land. Since then, both land had come over their differences and had become great economical partners. It was going to be a little tight for Slytherin, but the horse had an incredibly calm temper and would not panic in close spaces. If Draco gave him an apple, the horse would not complain.
Left, left, right, left again and there he was, pushing the old metallic bars open for his worse to trot beside him.
As planned, he had to pay the price of an apple at the beginning of the secret tunnel. When Draco was far enough from the castle not to be seen, he jumped on his horse and galloped, always following the coast and turning his back to his castle.
''Forgive me, father,'' he whispered to himself in hope to somehow the wind would carry his words to his caring father.
He knew this would be a hard stroke to accept from his paternal. His mother had died when he was only 4 years old, and now he was running away in hope to find the mermaid.
XX
He arrived at the first village on the coast. It was named Dumbledore, after the first fisher who had established there and lived satiated and happy from his fishing. He pushed the door opened of the only tavern of the village, building name ''The Philosopher Stone''. It was a dirty place who had undeniably lived better days, cleaner days as well. The wooden floor had turn to black, under the accumulated mud. He and there, tables were lazily standing, most of them unused. Behind the counter, a young woman with dark and incredibly curled hair watched him entered with dark eyes, washing a dirty glass with a dirty rag.
She smiled at him and stopped her movement.
''Hi, what may I serve you today my good sir?''
''Butterbear please,'' he asked sitting at the counter. ''And that stew that seems to be cooked in the cauldron behind you.''
''Very well,'' she answered turning her back to him and prepared what he had ordered. She seemed to be frantic, and whispered under her breath, but to low so that Draco could catch anything.
The door was pushed opened by a fat man, with grey hair, with not much neck to support his enormous head and a large moustache that covered almost half of his mouth. One of his hands was resting on his belly, and the other one holding onto a fishing rod.
He was followed by was seemed to be his boy, for he looked very alike to the first man. The kid was as fat as his father, if not more. They sat beside him, on his right, not even glancing at him, and making the ground tremble at every step they were taking. The place suddenly smell of rotten fish.
''Gimme a drink, woman!'' Yelled the eldest of them two without even glancing at the woman.
''Calm down Vernon, you remember what happened the last time you talked to me like that?'' She took a great pleasure in remembering how she had kicked his butt out of her tavern. That seemed to calm down his nerves.
''Give the kid a drink too,'' he said a little less aggressively.
Draco started to eat. Okay, the food was far from the eight meal gourmet he was used to back at the palace. But finding a mermaid, more particularly his mermaid, Hermione, certainly had a price, and if that was it, he would gladly pay it a thousand times.
''It's terrible Dudley, the man died trying to find that creature.'' He drank half of his glass greedily, some of the liquids flowing down his red cheeks. ''I heard its jumped on the boat, gripped his throat and tore it open!''
Draco's ears perked up. He pretended not to care about the discussion they were having, but he was all ears to it. He continued to eat slowly, savouring each bite and prolonging his time at the tavern. He would have to ride faster in order to arrive at the next village before the seas swallows the sun.
''They almost manage to catch it, but they only stabbed it once or twice. That vile creature should not exist, if not for the power it brings!''
''Now, now Vernon, are you still speaking about that mermaid?'' Questioned the woman behind the bar, mocking the man. ''Have you caught it yet? I bet you did, didn't you Vernon?'' She mocked him with a mischievous laugh.
The man looked at her and spoke with anger in his voice, his skin getting redder by the minute.
''You, better than anybody else, have no right to doubt its existence, Bellatrix. Your own mother was one!''
Six more man entered the tavern, walking to a table behind Draco. He tried not to let a word from the discussion escape his grip, although the new group was making a fuss. He had to know everything.
The woman, apparently named Bellatrix, put violently the glass she was cleaning seconds ago on the counter. Draco bounced at the sound, but kept eating, pretending he didn't care about their discussion.
''It's not about doubting their existence, Vernon, it's about the selfish creatures they are. My mother,'' she hissed, ''had me with a drunken man. When she saw I was born tail less, she dropped me cold heartedly on the shore. I was lucky enough to be picked up by Dumbledore. He was a good man, and he took care of me. Mermaids are vile, indeed, and cruel. People fear pirates, and dragons, and witches. I say, look out for the mermaids. But trying to catch one to sale her blood, for such a terrible purpose, is more dangerous than riding an untamed dragon.''
The tavern was now silent.
''You seem to know a lot about the situation, Bella,'' whispered Vernon, looking at his empty glass.
''People talk,'' she shrugged. ''I may hate mermaids, but I would hate more for somebody to catch one.''
''What does mermaid blood do, ma'am?'' Blurted out Draco.
Well, my cover is blown up now, he sighed.
She slowly turned to him, astonishment written all over her face. But in her eyes, he saw a spark of interest.
''Have you lived in a tavern all your life, my boy? Mermaid blood makes the one who drink it immortal and powerful, of course.''
Draco swallowed loudly, torn between fear and hatred. Fear of what blood mermaid could do, and scared of mermaid as well, just a little. Yet, he hadn't heard anything positive about them, so why would he keep searching her? He also felt pure hearted, toward those who were searching Hermione. How dare they try to kill such a beautiful creature? He had to stop them, or at least warn Hermione, even if that meant letter her go.
''Don't worry Bella, I bet they will never catch it,'' said one of the man sitting behind Draco's back.
She nodded her head from left to right, looking at the ground.
''My mother, before she abandoned me, must have gave me a drop of her blood. Look how young I look, everybody knows in the village that Dumbledore died 250 years ago, and that he was already old when he found me.''
Draco took a deep breath.
''Would you mind me asking ma'am, how old exactly are you?''
She looked at him, sadness all over her face. ''432 years old. The drop of blood didn't make me immortal, but I've live two if not three lifetimes. And... I can't die. Believe me, I've tried.''
He gulped loudly.
''One more thing boy, don't get involved.''
XX
Draco paid for his meal, thanked Bellatrix and left, riding Slytherin in direction of the next village. It took him 3 hours, and the last sunshines where caressing the waves of the sea, tainting the sky beautiful shades of dark orange and light yellow. Behind him, the starts were already making their apparition.
He arrived at the village, without making any bad encountered. Draco was had, of course, brought his sword with him. He was ready to fight, he had always been good in combats, he had no worry that the Slytherin sword would come in handy if he had to use it.
He found the village tavern rather quickly, for the village consisted of only a road, and houses from each side of it.
He pushed the door open of the tavern, which was named ''Chamber of the Secrets''. It was cleaner than the tavern in which he had had his meal, and he couldn't be happier about it. After all, he was about to stay the night there. He was exhausted from his ride, and just wanted to sleep.
''One room, please,'' he asked putting galleons on the counter.
''Very well sir, room 394.''
He raised his brow. He doubted the tiny building had more than five rooms, so why number 394? The host seemed to see his question mark on Draco's face, for he started speaking.
''We only pick lucky numbers, such as 7, for our rooms. Since we live on the coast and it tends to be windy, we put all the luck we can on our side.''
Draco nodded with understanding, but he couldn't care less. He walked up to his room and put his bag down. He walked up to the bowl of fresh water the host had put on his night desk to clean his face with the fresh water the host had put for him. He rinse his face once, and just when he was about to rinse it twice, something caught his eyes.
Hermione was looking straight back at him in the perfectly still water.
But one of the drops of water rolled down his face and fell back into the bowl, making slight waves at the surface, and she was gone.
He blinked once, twice, thrice.
Merlin, he was even hallucinating her. It was time to go to bed.
***
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