Breakfast at Natalie's

"Hermione, have you seen Natalie at all today?" said Malfoy, as he opened the door to let her in. She stepped inside, trading her shoes for house slippers.

"No, I haven't," she replied, hanging her coat up in the closet. "Why?"

"Well, she isn't home yet," said Malfoy.

"She was supposed to be back an hour ago," said Hermione, glancing at her wristwatch.

"I know," he said. "Which is why I'm worried."

"Well, I don't know where she could've gone. Maybe she went grocery shopping?" Hermione sat down on the sofa in front of the crackling fire.

"We just went yesterday," he reminded her.

"Well, then I don't know." She sighed, running her fingers through her windblown hair. "But anyway, I have good news. I've been all over the place, and I've called just about every place I can think of--most of the places are closed since it's Sunday--and I've finally found a teacher that's willing to come here and home-school Cassie and Riley."

"That's great," said Malfoy, sitting down next to her. "Is she a Muggle?"

"No, actually she works part time as a secretary at the Ministry. Her name is Amy. She seems pretty nice."

"Amy?" said Malfoy. "Wait, is she blonde?"

"Yes," said Hermione, giving him a strange look. "Why?"

"I know her," he said. "She was...er, filling in for Miranda one day." He didn't feel like elaborating.

"Oh, really? That's even better then."

"I didn't know she was a teacher," he said. "She didn't tell me." He neglected to add the fact that she didn't really seem the type either.

"Well, we'll just have to see if it works out," said Hermione. "I'm really too tired to keep looking. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find someone. They all seem to think that I want someone to baby-sit."

"I would offer to teach them myself," said Malfoy, "but I really don't know anything worth teaching them."

"Don't belittle yourself, Draco," she said, looking at him reproachfully. "You know plenty of things worth teaching. Just not to children."

"What are you suggesting?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, stop it," she said, blushing as she realized the double meaning of her words. "You know that's not what I meant."

She stood up from the sofa and stretched.

"Well, I'm still worried about Natalie at any rate," said Malfoy, standing up as well. "I wish I could call her, but she hasn't got a mobile."

"Maybe you should call the café," suggested Hermione.

"I did, but it was closed already."

"Well, then try one of her coworkers. Maybe she never went to work."

"Then where would she go?"

She shrugged and yawned. "I think I might go upstairs for a nap."

"Alright," said Malfoy. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

She climbed the steps and disappeared into her bedroom. Malfoy paced around, staring at his mobile phone on the coffee table, willing it to ring. It didn't. He decided to poke around and see if he could find a list of contacts, anything that might give him a clue as to where Natalie had gone. There was nothing in the study, just some old parchment with fragments of scribbled out notes. He wandered down the hallway to the master bedroom.

The door was closed, but not locked, he discovered. He turned the cold, brass handle and stepped into the room. It was dark inside. The curtains were drawn, which made the room seem gloomier than it was already. The bed was unmade; she had obviously slept in it. A bathrobe was draped haphazardly over the back of a chair. The desk was littered with used coffee mugs, scraps of paper, and a broken quill or two. It reminded Malfoy of his own desk at work.

He was just about to turn away when something caught his eye: a yellow sticky-note, the kind that he saw Muggles use often. He picked it up.

Emily

020.7802.9342

Emily? The same Emily who worked at the café? Excited, he dialed the number.

"Hello?" said a female voice almost immediately.

"Um, hi, is this...Emily?" He realized that he didn't know his last name.

"Yes, this is Emily."

"Hi, this is Draco Malfoy. I was wonder--"

"Oh, Draco!" she squealed, then cleared her throat and spoke more calmly. "I mean, Mr. Malfoy. How may I help you?"

"I wanted to know if Natalie went to work today? Natalie King?"

"Yes," said Emily, sounding confused. "She was at work. Why do you ask?"

"Well, she hasn't come home yet."

"The café closed over an hour ago," said Emily. "I was there when she closed up."

"That's strange," he said, frowning. "Did she say anything about going anywhere?"

"No," said Emily. "Although I think she did call someone this morning. Oh right, that was you."

"She called me this morning?"

"She said something about being out of milk. She was reminding you to buy some. I remember now."

"We just bought milk yesterday," he said. "Why would we be out of milk?"

"Well, that's what she said when I asked her who she was calling."

"Thanks, Emily," said Malfoy.

"Would you--" she began, but he had already hung up.

Malfoy held the slip of paper in his hand, wondering why Natalie would lie about who she'd been calling. More importantly, who had she been calling, and where was she right now? He searched the desk for other clues, but found none. He went over to her nightstand and slid open the first drawer. Inside, there was a heavy photo album. He picked it up, and his hand felt a piece of paper that was stuck to the back. The paper was purple and smelled of sandalwood and some other exotic potpourris. He recognized it as the receipt for their trip to Madame Morisette's.

He flipped open the photo album and found himself staring down at pictures of Narcissa and her father, a man he had never met. He turned the page and found the flow of pictures interrupted by a blank space. Someone had removed one of the pictures. Wait a moment. He looked back at the receipt, and suddenly everything was clear.

Luckily, the receipt happened to list Madame's phone number.

"Madame Morisette's office, how may I help you?"

"Hi, I was wondering--"

"There are no remaining appointments for today. Sorry."

"I don't want an appointment," he said, annoyed at being cut off. "I want to know if a woman named Natalie King has been to see Madame today."

"I'm sorry, we cannot disclose information about our clients--"

"She's my sister, and she's been missing! I need to know if she's been there. Please, it's really important," he begged. He heard a sigh on the other end.

"What does she look like?"

"She's pretty tall, long blonde hair..."

"Does she happen to be a waitress?"

"...and--wait, did you say waitress? How did you know she's a waitress?"

"Sir, her appointment was an hour ago--"

"Did she happen to mention where she was going after her appointment?"

"--and she has not yet come out."

"She's still there?"

"Yes, sir."

Silence from Malfoy's end.

"Sir?"

He'd ended the call and was already barreling up the stairs to Hermione's room.

"Hermione! Hermione!"

She opened her eyes to glare at him.

"I was nearly asleep, you know," she said, clearly peeved.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I figured out where Natalie went. She's gone to see the psychic again."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I just called them. I'm going there right now."

"Why did you wake me up for this?"

"I..."

"Oh, whatever, Draco. Just go." She rolled over onto her side and tugged the blankets over her head.

----------------------------

He arrived at the purple house by Apparition, and burst inside the office.

"May I help--" began one of the assistants.

"I'm looking for Natalie King," he panted.

"I'm afraid she is still with Madame currently."

"Are you sure she's alright?"

"I'm sure she is perfectly--"

"How can you be sure of that?"

The assistant stared at him. "Sir, Madame is a fully certified--"

"I don't care if she's a Registered Animagus," said Malfoy. "I need to know if my sister is alright. How long has she been in there?"

"A registered what?" said the assistant, wondering if he'd heard right. "She's been in there for a little over hour now."

"Is that unusual?"

"Highly irregular, but it all depends on the situation. I assure you, sir, everything is under control."

Malfoy eyed the gauzy fabric that was covering the door to Madame's séance room, and then he made a dash for it. The attendant was too shocked to react quickly enough to stop him, but Malfoy could hear him shouting as he slammed the door. He could see two figures in the dim light.

"Youuu!" screeched Madame, flying at him, her hands catching fistfuls of his robes. "How dare youuu!"

The lights brightened a little, and he could see Natalie still sitting in the chair, pale and motionless.

"What have you done to her?"

"It is not I, you fool," said Madame. "It is you. You have interrupted the Contact of the Spirits! Now she will be trapped in the Other World!"

"Trapped?" gaped Malfoy, who had not even considered the consequences of his actions.

"Yes! Trapped! Because of you!" said Madame, poking him in the chest with her finger. "Maybe trapped forever!"

"Forever?" he repeated dumbly. "What...what happens if she's trapped?" He was afraid to hear the answer.

"The longer you stay in the Other World, the more life force it takes from you, so eventually you will die if you stay for too long."

"She's going to die?"

"Did I say that? No! I say she is trapped, maybe forever, maybe not. But we still have small chance."

"What chance? How can I help?"

"There is only one way to get her back, but it is highly dangerous," said Madame.

"I'll do anything," he said, clenching his fists.

Madame raised her eyebrows, but pulled up another chair for him. He sat down in it, feeling strange with Natalie's immobile form next to him.

"There is only one way," whispered Madame. He leaned forward to hear her better. "You must go into the Other World and find her, bring her back. But it is dangerous because you do not know where she is."

"I think I know where she is," said Malfoy. "We came here together once. To see our mother."

"Ah, yes," said Madame, scrutinizing him over the rim of her spectacles. "I remember you. Well, this is very dangerous still. If you become lost, neither of you will come back to this world."

Malfoy looked at her; she seemed to be smiling at him in encouragement. He had to do this.

"Do you mind if I make a phone call first?" he said.

"Not at all," said Madame. "I must prepare anyway."

He quickly dialed Hermione's mobile. After a few rings, she picked up.

"What?" she snapped.

"I'm here at Madame's," he said.

"I know," she said crabbily. "God, what is up with you?"

"And I just wanted to let you know...that if I...don't come back...I love you."

"What are you talking about? Why wouldn't you come back?" She sounded worried now.

"There's no time to explain, but Natalie's trapped on the other side, and the only way to bring her back is for me to find her there. I might not make it back." He neglected to mention the fact that this was his entire fault in the first place.

"What do you mean, 'the other side'? Are you talking about...oh, bloody hell...just forget it. Just bring her back and get home in time for dinner, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he said. "Bye."

"Bye." They sat in silence for a few seconds, waiting for each other to hang up. "Wait, Draco. Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Waiting for you to hang up."

"I..." She took a deep breath. "I love you."

The line went dead.

He stuck his phone in his pocket and looked at Madame.

"Ready?"

"I'm ready," he said, the determination strong in his voice. He clasped Madame's hands and closed his eyes.