Adaptation

Chapter 5

Hermione marched down Diagon Alley in a defiant manner, her demeanour unkind and her expression equally as sour. She clenched and unclenched her fists whilst she made her way towards the Leaky Cauldron end of the Alley. She rudely shoved her way through the bustling crowd, prompting strangers to give her disapproving looks. Her footing became unsteady on several occasions due to the pushing and shoving, but she did not care. She just wanted to get out of the Wizarding World for the moment...and that meant travelling by foot rather than by apparition or floo network. Her hair had become dishevelled which made the young witch look flustered, if not unhinged.

There had been no indication that this would've been anything other than an ordinary day. Hermione had had a pleasant visit to her parents' clinic that morning, just as she planned. It was fantastic for her to see her parents doing so well with the new business and knowing that they were happy with the way things were. She toured the examination rooms, inspected fancy new dental equipment, conversed with the receptionists and even obliged with her mother's request for a dental inspection (even though any problems could surely be fixed by magic). Buoyed by the visit, she had then happily made her way to Diagon Alley into Ollivander's for a private chat with Mr. Ollivander.

It was then that the day took a dark turn for Hermione. The wand shop was to re-open in a month. Hermione had wanted to see how things were going with the restoration. Mr. Ollivander was quietly happy - explaining how many new wands he had made and how many well-wishers were supporting him. So it was not Mr. Ollivander himself that had put Hermione into such a petulant mood.

Something during that visit had triggered a potent fury within Hermione. Her emotions became unchecked during a brief exchange with Mr. Ollivander about the Malfoys. He, like everyone else, had heard about Lucius and Narcissa's impending trial. Hermione had gingerly brought up the topic to see how he was coping. It was the look of pain when Mr. Ollivander mentioned his ordeal in the course of that conversation which was the catalyst in Hermione's mind. Here he was, trying to rebuild after the events of the year and he was doing so well...it was just that in some way he like many others would always be scarred in some way by the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters.

It was that scarring that burned suddenly, just like Harry's scar used to sear. It was as if she had bottled up or suppressed some of the pain and hurt from the battles that she had fought in. Yes, there had been a victory in the end. But there had been awful consequences for many people. She didn't want to be scarred by the experiences but today, today she felt as if she needed to come to terms with everything again and make sure she grounded herself so that the anger didn't take over.

Even though they had won...so many horrible things had happened. Sometimes pushing away that reality in preference for the warmer perspective was unhealthy.

She had not shown this sudden recurrence of anger in front of Mr. Ollivander. At the most she looked troubled or mildly upset about something. But instantly she felt that for one moment, one hour, one day perhaps...she had to feel the painful memories instead of shutting them out. It was human to mourn, to grieve and to seethe sometimes.

So she decided to return to Muggle London and 'cool off' before meeting Ron for afternoon tea at the re-opened Ice Cream Parlour back in the Alley. She finally reached the Leaky Cauldron and re-emerged on Charing Cross Road.

Exhaling as she stepped back into the Muggle world, she then sharply inhaled several deep breaths of crisp air. Her mind raced with the memories, the imprints of people who had been killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. She thought of her own ordeal, of Ron's and especially that of Harry. Mentally cursing herself for being so spontaneously emotional, she then set off for a quiet destination where she could reflect in solitude and peace.

A park will do, she thought. A large one. Somewhere away from crowds, from people. Muggles could never understand what she had gone through...but even some wizards and witches were just as ignorant.

***

Onyxius watched Draco out of the corner of his eye. Draco was polishing some silver artefacts at the front of the antiques shop. The poor young man had a soulless look about him. He was withdrawn, his sullen eyes seemingly focusing on nothing. In his right hand he held a soft cloth whilst he used his left hand to steady the item. Every movement seemed like such an effort, movement staggered and forced... and yet at the same time he appeared listless.

Onyxius worried about Draco, how the news was affecting him. He knew what it was like to be a fugitive, for sure, but he did not know what it felt like to be so completely and utterly lost.

'Maybe you should retire for the day,' Onyxius suggested to Draco from the other side of the shop. 'There are no customers around, not any tourists either. Everything is in order.'

For a brief moment Onyxius thought that the young wizard had not heard him. It definitely seemed as if Draco had slipped into a catatonic state. But to his surprise Draco stood up straighter and spoke in a more controlled voice than expected.

'I'm going insane here,' he said firmly. He looked straight into the older man's eyes. With each word Draco let his guard down and felt the despair turn into a display of sheer frustration. 'Every single day more of who I am disappears. I want to go back. But I can't. I'm stuck. Stuck in what feels like a cage.'

Onyxius walked towards Draco as he said this. He came up closer to Draco and put a hand on his shoulder.

'I know it's hard.'

Draco did not respond immediately. Onyxius knew what Draco was thinking of doing next.

'I'm going to go for a walk. To clear my mind,' Draco finally said, heading for the door.

Onyxius merely nodded and let him leave the premises without further words of caution or a lecture about his situation. Perhaps the best lesson was for Draco to face up to the harsh reality of his situation. Onyxius knew Draco was mulling over the possibility of returning to the Wizarding world, even in the face of guaranteed condemnation and possible persecution. Any attempt to return would surely be a lesson...

***

Harry sat quietly in a large chair in Kingsley Shacklebolt's office. He drummed his fingers on the dark wood armrest of the red velvet chair, not out of impatience but rather as a sign that he was thinking of what to say in response to what the Aurors were discussing.

'So, Harry,' Kingsley prodded. 'What is your assessment of the situation? Do you think that Draco Malfoy is of any value to these investigations? Or perhaps otherwise?'

The group of senior Aurors trained their eyes on Harry and waited for his response. Harry leant forward and shared his thoughts openly.

'Malfoy could be of some use. But in his current state...well from meeting him I can tell you he appears to be a shattered person. Repentant? I'm not entirely sure how good his word is. I'm not one to see the best in people like him. I do think he's currently too traumatised to do much of anything. I don't think he's much of a danger...'

'Interesting,' Kingsley interrupted. 'Very interesting.'

The Aurors all looked deep in thought.

'I'll try to keep an eye on him,' Harry added.

Satisfied with Harry's assessment for the time being, and somewhat eager to move onto more pressing Ministry issues, Kingsley dismissed Harry from the meeting.

'We'll have to meet again soon,' he said as Harry exited.

'Of course,' Harry nodded.

***

Draco wasn't entirely sure whether the daring thoughts in his mind were a sign that he had gone mental.

You're not fully mental, Draco thought. If you had really lost it then you would have just apparated back home.

He had read in the guide book, the one he had up in his room, that one could enter Diagon Alley through finding the Leaky Cauldron on Charing Cross Road in London. He was currently on a bus headed to the inner city.

You haven't gone mental. You know you're going to chicken out and not really escape the Muggle world. You're just going to end up somewhere relatively near the Leaky Cauldron before realising you cannot go back because of what you and your family were involved in. You would have just apparated if you truly intended to go back.

Draco was figuring that he had nothing to lose by just going back. Sure everyone would hate him, he'd probably be arrested by the Ministry so they could question him and make him testify against his parents or something equally as awful, but at least he would be Draco Malfoy in the Wizarding world and not some non-existent person in the Muggle realm.

Yet he knew he could not face such a fate, even if he had apologised to Harry Potter and offered his allegiance to the correct side. No one would believe he was sorry for being weak, spineless, ill-informed, devious and evil.

Reluctantly acknowledging he was stuck in the Muggle world, Draco got off the bus before his intended stop and walked into a large park area. The grassy park was not busy at all, largely due to the weather forecast. It was a small relief but hardly enough to mitigate Draco's mood.

He dragged his feet as he walked and felt enough emotion to mumble swear words under his breath about the fact that he was stripping himself of his identity and dignity by living amongst Muggles.

'You call yourself a Malfoy,' he muttered. 'You're nothing here. Nothing.'

He sauntered down the cement path before diverting onto a grassy knoll. He glanced around and realised he was in a wide open space.

'Fan-bloody-tastic. You can stand in the middle of nowhere with no one coming after you,' he said bitterly.

In the distance he saw someone approach. The woman had her head down, her unkempt hair hiding her profile. Draco suddenly felt rather self-conscious and decided to find a more secluded area of the park where he could feel miserable without anyone watching.

He had only taken five steps before realising the woman had stopped in her tracks and was now staring at him. It took him a mere second to recognise who it was. He too stopped where he was and stared back, unsure whether to approach her or turn away.

He did not have to make a decision because Hermione rushed towards him, quickly covering the fifty metre distance between them.

'Malfoy, you son of a bitch!' she yelled, pushing him with both her hands.

Affronted, he pushed her off him. He was in abject misery but he wasn't about to let a Mudblood assault him.

'Granger, have you lost your bloomin' mind? Get off me!' he spat. 'What the hell is your problem? What are you doing here?'

'What's my problem? My problem is that I should have yelled at you before! For helping Voldemort. Harry's not here now. No one to tell me to back off now, is there?' she cried. 'You and the Death Eaters...at your bloody family mansion...Dumbledore, even though you couldn't kill him...all the pain you helped inflict...even though you were too cowardly to really do as much as you wanted!'

Something clicked into place in Malfoy's subconscious and a spark of fury was unleashed. The blood began to run again in his body.

'If I had really wanted the Dark Lord to win then I would have tried to help him as much as possible, you stupid Mudblood! I would have killed Dumbledore. I would have killed Harry. I would have identified you lot when you were captured and brought to Malfoy Manor. But I didn't. Yeah you're right, I was a coward but mainly because I was too fucking scared to do anything against the Dark Lord! And considering how powerful he was...well I didn't have much choice!'

Not registering what Draco was asserting, Hermione tried to slap him. He was quicker than her and caught her hand.

'You don't think I've been punished enough?' he yelled with unbridled bitterness. 'You think I don't know I was wrong. I thought you were smart. Maybe I was wrong, you daft little girl.'

'Don't you insult me you absolute git!' Hermione snapped, trying to get him to release his grip on her hand. 'Malfoy...'

Draco let go of her hand.

'You're nuts. Your side won. Don't take your issues out on me,' he said.

Draco felt more alive in that moment than he had in a very long time. He stared down at Hermione as she wiped away her own angry tears. She was still shocked that they had encountered each other.

'It hurts,' Hermione said angrily. 'Victory came at a price. It hurts.'

'I know it hurts,' Draco replied in a low growl. 'You want me to suffer? Listen to me, Granger. I'm in hell at the moment. I am living amongst Muggles. I can't use magic. I am alone. I can't go back to the Wizarding world. My parents are either going to be locked up in Azkaban forever or given the death penalty. Don't think you could have dreamed up a better punishment.'

'Well you deserve it.'

'I didn't say I didn't.'

Hermione was taken aback by his admission, this time actually listening to him. So she stood there, tears running down her face as he just stood there, hands in his pockets and shaking his head.

'Now would be a good time to walk away,' Draco suggested, his tone just as harsh as before.

'You walk away.'

'Well I don't know where the bloody hell I am, now do I?'

Hermione looked at him and then looked around at their surroundings. Draco took note of this, his grey eyes surveying her facial expression.

'Why hasn't Harry gotten the Ministry to arrest you or something?' she asked him. 'You're in hiding, yet he knows you are in Muggle London. He told me not to tell anyone about that visit.'

'I think in the aftermath of the Battle there were more sinister followers of the Dark Lord to lock up than I. Besides, Potter pretty much knows I'm not worth the resources to capture.'

Draco wasn't entirely sure whether he was speaking the truth. Harry had probably recognised the current situation was enough punishment. Draco had apologised and offered his allegiance in a chance to repent. Perhaps Potter is waiting to call up on a favour, Draco thought.

Hermione nodded. She was now slightly embarrassed at her outburst, especially when her behaviour during the last visit had been appropriately cold rather than unrestrained and emotional.

Draco turned around and began to walk way. There was no need for an exchange of goodbyes.

'You don't know how to get back home,' she yelled after him.

'As if you care,' he hollered, not looking back at her.

Just like the last time they parted, she felt a pang of pity. Or of empathy.

She couldn't help it.

'Malfoy, wait!'