A Thousand Words

Chapter 18: Blood Begin to Race

Draco arrived at the Red Dragon a few minutes before his scheduled meeting with Hermione. Because it was Boxing Day and so many people were frantically shopping around in Diagon Alley, the pub was extraordinarily busy. The number of bags and parcels heaped on the tables, chairs, and floor only added to the crowdedness and chaos, and Draco had quite a bit of difficulty manoeuvring around everything before he was able to find an unoccupied table.

'This better be worth it,' he snarled under his breath as he tossed a box of self-refilling plates off of one of the chairs and sat down on it. He immediately jumped up again and looked down at the seat, for he had sat on something unpleasantly sharp - a set of Nose-Biting Teacups.

'What is this, a tea party?' Draco grumbled as he picked the teacups up and placed them on a nearby table.

'If you had told me you wanted one, it could have been arranged,' said a very amused-sounding voice from behind Draco.

Draco turned and saw Hermione standing behind him. Her cheeks were flushed, presumably from the cold, and she was bundled up in layers of clothing. On her arm, she carried a small shopping bag imprinted with the words 'Slug & Jiggers Apothecary'.

'About time,' said Draco, sitting back and crossing his arms while Hermione took off her many scarves and hats. 'What's in the bag?'

'Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger,' Hermione recited as she removed her mittens. 'Flourish & Blott's was too busy, so I just went to the apothecary. You can look at it, if you'd like. You brought your list, right?'

Draco grunted in response. He had finished it just the night before - it had taken him a while to do so, for he'd been thinking of his meeting with Starlight and wondering if she had received his gift, but he had finished it nonetheless.

'Okay,' said Hermione, finally sitting down. She placed both hands on the table. 'Let's get down to business. What did you find out from the witness?'

'Anna?' said Draco automatically.

Hermione stared at him. 'Getting friendly with her, are we?'

Draco lowered his gaze and inwardly cursed himself for letting that slip. Out loud, he said smoothly, 'She told me to call her by her first name.'

'Right. Anyhow, I'm not really interested in your relationship with her. What did she tell you?'

Draco hesitated. For a moment, he considered not revealing the information Anna had given him. That way, he'd have an advantage over Hermione. She didn't know yet what exactly the torn bit of parchment had to do with the murder. However, Draco also knew that withholding any sort of evidence in this kind of case had serious consequences, so sullenly, he explained everything about the man's pamphlet.

Hermione listened in silence. Once Draco had finished speaking, she frowned severely. 'Why didn't she tell me or anyone else that?'

'I wouldn't know,' Draco lied. He had no desire to let Hermione know about anything Anna had said beyond the evidence she'd provided.

Sighing, Hermione said, 'So what do you think this means?'

Draco raised his eyebrows, surprised that Hermione had even bothered to ask for his opinion. He had always seen her as the kind of person who would take any chance to seize control over the situation at hand. However, as he did have a few theories he wanted to share, he reluctantly answered her question.

'Well, first of all, I think it's safe to say that the man was in on the murder in one way or another, because he didn't mention the corpse even though he should have seen it. Now, one of two scenarios could have taken place: either Malkin was killed when the man ventured into the alley, or she was killed before he ventured into the alley.'

'Or your Anna is lying,' Hermione pointed out.

'She's not my Anna,' said Draco irritably. 'Anyway, she said there was silence for five or ten minutes and then there was the scuffle and the muttered incantation. Assuming the incantation was Morsmordre, I'd say it's highly unlikely that Malkin was killed in the alley, because as far as I know, there aren't any hexes or spells that completely mutilate a body. The man could have been doing anything within those ten minutes, but whatever he was doing, it wasn't heard or noticed by the group of people standing on the sidewalk.'

Hermione tapped her bottom lip thoughtfully. 'The back door was unlocked,' she said slowly. 'Perhaps he - or an accomplice - entered the shop that way and committed the murder in there?'

'I never thought of that,' said Draco, surprised. 'You're right, it's possible.' He was so caught up in analysing the details that he even forgot to annoy Hermione by being disagreeable.

'Do you think there was an accomplice?'

'I've got no idea,' said Draco. He tried to think back to what Anna had said about the man's mention of a witch attacking him. 'I think it's likely, though, because someone else must have done the deed. Anna didn't say anything about blood on him, and there would have been had the man killed Malkin himself. You can't tear someone up like that and get away with just tussled hair.'

'This is so much more complicated than I thought,' Hermione murmured. Draco watched as she began to fiddle with the pages in her book. 'I wonder why the pamphlet was so important to him. It must have carried instructions on how to brew a certain potion that he needed.'

At this point, Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper crane. He tapped it, and it unfolded itself to reveal the list of potions he had gathered. 'Here are the candidates,' he said, dropping the list on the table. 'All eighty-seven of them.'

'Eighty-seven?' Hermione repeated. She looked utterly appalled. 'How are we ever going to narrow them down to just one?'

'You're the genius between us; you can figure it out,' Draco sneered. Now that he had finished speculating on the evidence he had, he was remembering to be rude to Hermione again. 'And while you're poring over that, I think I'll order myself a drink.'

Pushing his chair back, he stood up and kicked aside a cloak lying in a heap at his feet. Noticing Hermione's gaze on him, he sighed and drawled, 'Want anything?'

She smiled sweetly. 'Butterbeer would be nice.'

Draco walked briskly over to the bar, squeezing between two arguing wizards to cut his way to the front of the line.

'One butterbeer and one firewhiskey,' he said loudly over the din to the bartender.

The tired-looking witch behind the counter was glaring at Draco as if he were the cause of all her misfortunes, but she reached into a box at her feet and pulled out two bottles anyway. She slammed these on the counter, held out a hand, and said flatly, 'Twelve sickles.'

Draco dug into the pockets of his robes and fumbled around. At last, he extracted a few gold and silver coins. He counted these carefully, and then handed them over to the witch. With a curt nod, he took the drinks and returned to where Hermione sat, waiting for him.

'Thank you,' she said as she took the bottle Draco had put carelessly down on the scrubbed wood table.

Instead of saying 'You're welcome', Draco simply sat down and took a swig of his firewhiskey. He felt it burn all the way down his throat.

'You know, excessive alcohol isn't good for you,' said Hermione in a conversational tone. She had returned to examining the list of potions Draco had created. Her chin was resting in one hand as she read it, and her other hand held the bottle of butterbeer. 'You drink often, don't you?'

'What, are you stalking me now, Granger?' said Draco sarcastically. 'I thought I already told you that the chances of you getting with me are slim to none.'

'Oh, shut up, Malfoy,' said Hermione, never lifting her eyes from the sheet of parchment before her. 'One might think you're beginning to grow a bit obsessive about me, the way you're always talking about us getting together.'

Draco flushed angrily. He hadn't known Hermione was even capable of making such a snarky response, much less beating him at his own game. In silence, he watched as Hermione continued to read down the list.

'There seem to be a lot of medicinal potions on here,' she murmured after a while. She looked up at Draco. 'Did you notice this?'

'I finished this at five in the morning,' Draco snapped. 'Of course I wasn't scouring for patterns.'

Draco saw a muscle in Hermione's cheek twitch, but otherwise, she gave no sign that she was bothered by Draco's attitude.

'Well, then,' she said reasonably, 'perhaps we can assume that our mystery man has some sort of magical ailment. Maybe that's why he refused to part with the pamphlet - it carried instructions for brewing some sort of antidote to his illness.'

Grudgingly, Draco had to admit that he agreed with this conjecture. 'Let me see that,' he said, reaching out a hand to take the list from Hermione.

She gave it to him. As she pulled her hand back, her fingers brushed against Draco's lightly. Draco felt something in his stomach region lurch, and he swiftly retracted his hand, somewhat flustered. He glanced quickly at Hermione, but she hadn't seemed to notice.

'Right,' he said, forcing his voice to stay calm. 'I'm more familiar with Potions, so maybe I'll draw more connections.'

He examined the list of potions. Many of them dealt with healing creature-induced wounds: insect bites, contact with poison, and other such physical injuries. Something about the names seemed odd, though. Draco had the distinct feeling that he knew which of them it was, or that at least there was a more obvious correlation he wasn't registering. However, try as he might, he couldn't figure out what his instincts were trying to tell him.

Draco sighed. 'I'm going to take this home with me again, if you don't mind. I need to go over this on my own.'

'You'll let me know if you find anything, right?' said Hermione anxiously. She smiled awkwardly at Draco. 'Since we're working together now, that is.'

'Sure,' said Draco uncomfortably. Hermione's smile was very disarming, especially since he wasn't accustomed to holding a civil conversation with her in the first place. Strangely enough, he wasn't even bothered by the fact that she had stated their newfound partnership as if he had already agreed to it. 'Er - do you want to go over the details of Anna's evidence again?'

Hermione checked her watch and sighed audibly. 'No, I'm afraid I can't,' she said, sounding genuinely sorry. 'I need to get home soon and write up the report on Bulstrode's capture. I return to the Ministry tomorrow, and seeing as Robards is already angry with me for waiting this long to start searching for leads on this case, I need to make that report as thorough as I can.'

'You got her?' said Draco, surprised. He had known the witch they had been after, Millicent Bulstrode, back in Hogwarts. She had been in his house, and she'd always admired him because of his father's connections to Voldemort. Now, the thought of it brought a bitter taste to Draco's mouth.

Hermione nodded. 'They told me she had been in contact with Amycus and Alecto...your team got those two, didn't it?'

'I led them,' said Draco, not quite answering Hermione's question. He cleared his throat. 'Anyway, if you need to be leaving...'

To Draco's confusion, Hermione was busy staring at a point somewhere on the surface of the table. Her eyes were unfocused, and she appeared to be imagining or remembering something very ardently. At Draco's words, however, she started and said hurriedly, 'Oh yes. Sorry about that; my mind wandered away.'

Draco barely suppressed an eyeball roll. 'That would be your cue to leave, then.'

'Thanks, it's good to know that you want me to stay so much,' said Hermione, actually rolling her eyes.

She stood up and began putting on all her winter attire again. As she wrapped a Gryffindor scarf around her neck, she opened her mouth to say something. However, before the words could leave her lips, someone bellowed, 'HERMIONE!'

Draco whipped around. In the doorway stood Ron and Harry. They were both staring at him and Hermione with identical expressions of shock.

'Ron?' said Hermione incredulously. As she too whirled around to look at Ron, she accidentally knocked over the half-empty bottle of butterbeer sitting on the table with her hand, causing its contents to spill everywhere. Through his surprise, Draco managed to snatch up the list of potions and Hermione's book before they became soaked with the sticky liquid.

By now, Ron and Harry had hurried over to their table. 'What the hell are you doing here with him?' said Ron angrily. He ignored Draco as he grabbed Hermione's forearm and tugged at her. 'Come on, let's go.'

'Ron, let go of me!' Hermione exclaimed sharply. She jerked her arm out of Ron's grasp. 'We were discussing the case, we had -'

'What?' said Ron, his jaw dropping. He looked absolutely dumbfounded. 'You - you chose - you purposely came here to talk with him?'

Hermione pursed her lips, looked over Ron's shoulder at Harry, and said furiously, 'Harry, why are you two here?'

'Er -' said Harry. He looked over at Draco. Draco raised an eyebrow back at him. 'Er, we were just passing through...thought we'd stop by for a drink...'

'And it's a good thing we did!' said Ron heatedly. 'Why are you here with this - this scum -?'

Anger flared up within Draco. He had been purposely trying to stay unnoticed during the quarrel, but Ron's words had tempted his fury.

'Excuse me, Weasley,' said Draco smoothly, keeping the irritation in his voice well-masked, 'but I feel this is an appropriate time to step in and interrupt your little temper tantrum.'

'Malfoy -'

'Shut it, Potter,' said Draco calmly. He had stood up and was watching Ron with narrowed eyes. Come on, Weasley...step up to the challenge, you useless git...

Ron turned red. 'What are you implying, Malfoy?'

Draco took a step forward, silently daring Ron to fight. 'What I'm implying,' he said slowly, 'is that I've had to deal with your thick-headed antics for the past eleven years, and I think it's about time for me put you in your place.'

'You want to have a go in here?' said Ron, the tips of his ears turning scarlet. 'Because I'll destroy you, Malfoy, if that's what you want. You couldn't fight and win if you were up against a ruddy house-elf. That's why you came back, isn't it? You were too scared to stand up for your pathetic self, so you -'

'Ron, leave him alone!' Hermione screamed all of a sudden. She grabbed Ron's wrist, stopping the path his hand was taking to his wand. 'This isn't about him. He did nothing wrong; I was the one who invited him.'

'I don't want your pity, Granger,' Draco snarled, pushing Hermione aside roughly.

He drew his wand. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that Ron was only trying to goad him into action; unfortunately, it was working. Red hot anger coursed through his veins; he had never hated someone so much as he hated Ron at that moment.

'Go ahead,' Draco whispered dangerously, throwing his hands up mockingly. 'Go ahead and try.'

'Okay, this is enough,' said Harry firmly, stepping in front of Draco. 'Leave it alone. Especially you, Malfoy. People are staring, for Merlin's sake.'

It was true. The bar had suddenly turned silent; all the previous cheerful chatter had stopped. Every pair of eyes was fixed on the tussle at the table near the back of the room. Even the bartender was leaning over the counter, her mouth agape.

Ignoring Harry's words, Draco stepped around him and pointed his wand at Ron. 'If you're too scared to try,' he hissed, 'then I'll step in. Petrificus Totalus!'

At the same time that Draco uttered the hex, Ron shouted, 'Protego!'

The jet of crimson light that had issued from Draco's wand rebounded off of Ron's shield and hit the ceiling with a deafening crack. Bits of wood and plaster showered down upon the bar, causing screams to erupt into the silence.

Meanwhile, Draco stood panting, adrenaline still coursing through him. The urge to curse Ron into a million pieces lingered. He wanted to walk away, to be the one to end it for once, but his rage wouldn't let him do it.

'Ron...' said Hermione weakly. One of her hands was clenching the edge of the table behind her; the other one was pressed, shaking, to her lips. 'Ron, just leave. Get out of here.'

'You think...you think I'm just going to...leave you here with this bastard?' said Ron between gasps of breath.

'She's right, Ron,' Harry interrupted. 'Let's just go. Now. Before any more trouble starts.'

He seized Ron's upper arm firmly and pushed past Draco, his eyes fixed ahead determinedly. As Ron stumbled by, his and Draco's gazes locked; for a moment, they exchanged silent threats. Then, Harry and Ron were gone. As the door swung shut behind them, Hermione finally looked at Draco.

'When shall we meet again to discuss this?' she said coldly. She still looked shaken by the mini-duel that had just happened. Draco couldn't tell if she was angrier at him or her boyfriend, and frankly, it was the last thing on his mind.

'I don't care,' said Draco savagely. He wanted to hate Hermione at that moment, but he couldn't bring himself to. After all, she had defended him in a way. 'It's not as if I've got anything better to do than escort children from school to the train station anyway.'

Hermione stared at him blankly. 'This Saturday, then,' she said as she pulled on her mittens. Draco was astonished to see that as she turned to pick up her cloak, which was lying underneath her broken chair, a few tears slipped out of her eyes and down her cheeks.

'Are you -' Draco started to say, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he gripped his wand even harder and closed his eyes tightly, willing the roaring in his head to go away.

'By the way, Malfoy, it's good to know that you're taking this seriously.'

Draco's eyes snapped open, but Hermione's back was facing him by now. Swallowing, he said icily, 'The snow is starting to pick up, so watch your step and hurry on home to the dump quickly. You wouldn't want Weasley' - he spat the word out - 'to worry.'

Hermione seemed to freeze up at the mention of Ron's name. Then, she said in an equally frosty tone of voice, 'Oh, rest assured, he won't worry.'

Before she turned to leave, however, she added softly, 'By the way, the snow doesn't perturb me. I find it more beautiful than threatening. Then again, you're not frightened by anything either, right?'

The mocking tone of Hermione's last sentence struck Draco sharply like a dozen tiny darts. He watched as she made her way around the piles of merchandise and debris from the hole in the ceiling. As soon as she was out of sight, Draco rested his elbows heavily on the table before him and furrowed his eyebrows. It was then that it hit him.

Those last words...they had sounded so familiar. He had heard someone say them before. Who was it?

Starlight. The name burst into his mind as clearly as if she had spoken the word in his ear herself, so clearly that Draco even whispered it out loud. She had said that she loved the snow, that she found it beautiful. And her boyfriend troubles...hadn't Hermione been having problems with Ron? Could Starlight...was it possible...could it be that Hermione...?

'No,' Draco muttered fiercely, kneading his temples to get rid of the disturbing possibility. No, Starlight is different...she's not like Granger at all...they couldn't be the same, there's no way. I would have figured it out by now. I know Granger like the back of my hand. Besides, it's not as it's rare for someone to like the snow. A lot of people like it. And everyone gets into relationship troubles from time to time.

Consoled by this thought, Draco downed the rest of his firewhiskey - which, surprisingly, had remained upright throughout the entire earlier scuffle - and stood up somewhat unsteadily. Coughing and still clutching Hermione's book, he weaved his way out of the packed room and back out onto the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.