Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry got his Wand
Tap tap tap. Despite the raging of the storm the hallways of Malfoy Manor were quiet aside from the footsteps of Draco Malfoy. He lived alone now, parents lost long ago. One did not betray the dark lord on the eve of his complete and utter victory without consequence. As the last Malfoy it was his duty to rebuild the family name and fortune. Mr Malfoy as he was now known had moved into businesses of his own making and was rich once more. This was an achievement in itself; all the old money purebloods who survived the war had lost their status long ago, existing on reputation alone. Not him. The light was rapidly fading and the shadows cast by the patterned windows danced in the halls as they were distorted by sheets of rain. Draco snapped his fingers as he approached the door to his sitting room and it swung open.One does not need a house elf for everything he thought.
It is impolite to Apparate directly into a private home, and in any case Malfoy Manor had protective enchantments that prevented such things. This meant that unfortunately Hermione was forced to battle through the rain and wind to reach the front door. She'd had little time to properly prepare as Snape had immediately contacted Malfoy (Hermione put aside the question of why Malfoy had a portrait of the late professor in his home for later) and Dumbledore insisted that she make no delay. This didn't trouble her too much, but a meeting with someone like Malfoy was practically a duel in itself. Every item of clothing, each mannerism and spoken inflection was a weapon. Malfoy was well practiced in the art of social warfare. Hermione would have been his match had she not been in such a hurry. So she hoped.
Ron sat in the most uncomfortable chair they had in their flat. His wand was on the table across the room. His cane was under a simple anti-friction jinx. He needed his wand to dispel it. To get his wand he had to walk unaided. Luna sat silently on a more comfortable chair. In Hermione’s absence Luna had taken command of Ron’s physical therapy. A Healer had come for a home visit to check him over and prescribed exercises that in theory would halt the spread of his condition. Half the battle was making Ron do them; the other half was making him believe they would work. Ron looked at Luna who smiled at him. Gritting his teeth and gripping the arms of the chair tightly he began to push himself up. Auror training was tough and Ron's upper body was still strong enough to support his weight. For now at least. A bead of sweat rolled down his face. He locked his legs as best he could. It was all a matter of balance. In theory he should be able to stand. After a brief hesitation he let go of the chair.
Luna gently helped Ron back into his chair and fetched his cane. They had a long way to go.
No one came to see me today. Where's Hermione? I just want to talk to someone.
I'm alone. I've always been alone and it was just going good I had a house and friends and safety and and then this fucking argh what did I do? I didn't do anything and now this happens I was just trying to help people and this is what I get? Got my wish now no one dies for me I die enough for myself.
Hermione sat stiffly in the luxurious armchair provided to her for her meeting with Malfoy. There was a roaring fire in the room which threw out an orange glow. Malfoy's complexion did not benefit from this, if anything he looked more unnerving. He had dressed for the occasion, immaculately tailored robes that could easily have cost more than she made in a year. In her muggle clothes Hermione felt decidedly uncomfortable, even if she found robes to be a hassle. Malfoy held his chin as if in thought and leant back deep into the warm embrace of the chair. Her skin crawled as she felt his gaze upon her. Mastering herself she looked upon him equally coolly. The corner of his lip curled upwards. He reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. With a lazy flick of his wrist the bottle of wine on the table between them rose into the air and filled the two glasses. Malfoy floated his own glass to his hand and looked again at Hermione.
She grit her teeth. She knew what he was doing. To use magic in the home of pureblood without permission was an ordinarily overlooked and obsolete law. She had no doubt Malfoy knew all about it and the consequences she would face should he choose to invoke it. Declining to drink was just as bad if not worse. There was no way around it. Ignoring the sneer of Malfoy she reached towards the table for the glass. Remember Harry She told herself. Play his game. Remember why you're doing this. She looked at her glass. The wine was almost black in colour, Hermione expected as much from Malfoy. This was wizard's wine. Sitting back in her chair she looked him dead in the eye and drank. Satisfied Malfoy placed his glass on the table and leant forward. The drawl hadn't lost its potency over the years.
'Professor Snape has informed me of all the details. It goes without saying that this is as a favour to him. My distaste for Potter remains as it was. No doubt you've done research into Legilimency.' Hermione nodded. 'It is irrelevant. Even under the simplest of circumstances the training you require is extensive. The circumstances are extenuating.' He made a motion with his hand and Hermione leant forwards. Her face was inches from his. His aftershave was subtle. She shivered as he reached up and laid his hands on her face. His skin was cold. He brushed her hair aside and placed two fingers on each of her temples. He pulled their heads together and she felt his hair on her face as their foreheads touched. 'Consider this a crash course' He whispered.
It is impolite to Apparate directly into a private home, and in any case Malfoy Manor had protective enchantments that prevented such things. This meant that unfortunately Hermione was forced to battle through the rain and wind to reach the front door. She'd had little time to properly prepare as Snape had immediately contacted Malfoy (Hermione put aside the question of why Malfoy had a portrait of the late professor in his home for later) and Dumbledore insisted that she make no delay. This didn't trouble her too much, but a meeting with someone like Malfoy was practically a duel in itself. Every item of clothing, each mannerism and spoken inflection was a weapon. Malfoy was well practiced in the art of social warfare. Hermione would have been his match had she not been in such a hurry. So she hoped.
Ron sat in the most uncomfortable chair they had in their flat. His wand was on the table across the room. His cane was under a simple anti-friction jinx. He needed his wand to dispel it. To get his wand he had to walk unaided. Luna sat silently on a more comfortable chair. In Hermione’s absence Luna had taken command of Ron’s physical therapy. A Healer had come for a home visit to check him over and prescribed exercises that in theory would halt the spread of his condition. Half the battle was making Ron do them; the other half was making him believe they would work. Ron looked at Luna who smiled at him. Gritting his teeth and gripping the arms of the chair tightly he began to push himself up. Auror training was tough and Ron's upper body was still strong enough to support his weight. For now at least. A bead of sweat rolled down his face. He locked his legs as best he could. It was all a matter of balance. In theory he should be able to stand. After a brief hesitation he let go of the chair.
Luna gently helped Ron back into his chair and fetched his cane. They had a long way to go.
No one came to see me today. Where's Hermione? I just want to talk to someone.
I'm alone. I've always been alone and it was just going good I had a house and friends and safety and and then this fucking argh what did I do? I didn't do anything and now this happens I was just trying to help people and this is what I get? Got my wish now no one dies for me I die enough for myself.
Hermione sat stiffly in the luxurious armchair provided to her for her meeting with Malfoy. There was a roaring fire in the room which threw out an orange glow. Malfoy's complexion did not benefit from this, if anything he looked more unnerving. He had dressed for the occasion, immaculately tailored robes that could easily have cost more than she made in a year. In her muggle clothes Hermione felt decidedly uncomfortable, even if she found robes to be a hassle. Malfoy held his chin as if in thought and leant back deep into the warm embrace of the chair. Her skin crawled as she felt his gaze upon her. Mastering herself she looked upon him equally coolly. The corner of his lip curled upwards. He reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. With a lazy flick of his wrist the bottle of wine on the table between them rose into the air and filled the two glasses. Malfoy floated his own glass to his hand and looked again at Hermione.
She grit her teeth. She knew what he was doing. To use magic in the home of pureblood without permission was an ordinarily overlooked and obsolete law. She had no doubt Malfoy knew all about it and the consequences she would face should he choose to invoke it. Declining to drink was just as bad if not worse. There was no way around it. Ignoring the sneer of Malfoy she reached towards the table for the glass. Remember Harry She told herself. Play his game. Remember why you're doing this. She looked at her glass. The wine was almost black in colour, Hermione expected as much from Malfoy. This was wizard's wine. Sitting back in her chair she looked him dead in the eye and drank. Satisfied Malfoy placed his glass on the table and leant forward. The drawl hadn't lost its potency over the years.
'Professor Snape has informed me of all the details. It goes without saying that this is as a favour to him. My distaste for Potter remains as it was. No doubt you've done research into Legilimency.' Hermione nodded. 'It is irrelevant. Even under the simplest of circumstances the training you require is extensive. The circumstances are extenuating.' He made a motion with his hand and Hermione leant forwards. Her face was inches from his. His aftershave was subtle. She shivered as he reached up and laid his hands on her face. His skin was cold. He brushed her hair aside and placed two fingers on each of her temples. He pulled their heads together and she felt his hair on her face as their foreheads touched. 'Consider this a crash course' He whispered.
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