The Affairs of Wizards

6. Wizard in Muggleland

Malfoy returned from his first foray into the Muggle World with a smug expression, a Nat West Platinum Card and an enormous box of Thorntons chocolates, which he presented to me with a flourish.

"I trust Madam finds them acceptable? Mrs Fogworthy assured me that they ought to meet with your approval."

"That's cheating! I shall have to have a word with Elaine."

"Cheating? Nonsense! You never actually said I couldn't ask anyone else for help." Not for the first time, I reminded myself to pay closer attention to the small print where Malfoy was concerned. It was not at all surprising that the Slytherin house symbol was a snake. Slippery simply wasn't the word for it. Still, he seemed to be enjoying himself, and that made him easier to handle during the lessons.

As launch day drew closer the pace of life became frantic. In between work, tutoring Malfoy and spending as much time with Blaise as our respective jobs allowed, I found it easy to forget about our lurking saboteur.

Then the saboteur chose to make it clear he had merely been biding his time.

***

Malfoy and I were in one of our twice-weekly sessions when Neville's head appeared in the fireplace. I knew immediately that something was wrong. Neville's usually amiable face was set in grim lines, and he started talking almost as soon as his image materialised.

"Draco, something's happened. I'm coming over." The fire flared up, and a moment later Neville stumbled out of the fireplace, brushing himself off. In his hand was a letter, which he placed on the table in front of Malfoy.

"This was on the table in the living room when I got home."

Malfoy turned paler than usual and picked up the letter. "Any sign of forced entry?"

"None. The household protection charm was still in place, and as far as I could tell it hadn't been touched."

Malfoy scanned the letter, then dropped it on the table. "It means nothing to me but the implications are clear enough. I'm not putting up with any more of this "I was an Auror and I can take care of myself" nonsense. Let me have Treadwell put someone on it."

"I'd still rather avoid it if I can," Neville said wearily. This was obviously the continuation of a long-standing argument.

"Longbottom, you idiot, quite apart from the fact that I would rather not see your carcass in pieces all over the county, do I have to remind you that there is more at stake here?"

"Don't presume to remind me of my responsibilities!" Neville snapped back, his temper rising. They had obviously forgotten all about me, and I took the opportunity to pull the letter towards me and study it.

Blood will have blood.

A picture of Branagh muttering, "It will have blood, they say. Blood will have blood," rose in my mind's eye. "Macbeth again. Our saboteur seems to have something of an obsession with it." This pulled them up short. They broke off their argument and turned to look at me. Malfoy took the letter from me and waved it at Neville.

"This proves it's the same person, Longbottom. Well?"

"Yes, alright," Neville replied, heavily. "Do what you must." Malfoy strode towards the mirror to call Treadwell.

"Would one of you please tell me what this is all about?"

Neville had sunk into one of the chairs and put his head in his hands. "I'm sorry Vanessa, we can't. Even knowing this much could put you in danger."

"Oh, come on! Whatever happened to "she needed to know"?"

"Longbottom's right, Miss Granger," Malfoy put in, with surprising gentleness. "You are better off not knowing, and you will be a good deal safer if you keep what you do know to yourself." He turned back to the mirror.

And with that, for the moment, I had to be content.

***

The Weasley Twins were to the Wizarding World's business community what Bill Gates is to the Muggle one. Their story, while not exactly rags to riches, is at least straightened circumstances to a multi-million Galleon business. What had started as Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, a small joke shop in Diagon Alley, had become, ten years later, the 3W Corporation, purveyor of all things Muggle to the magical world. The twins themselves gave the credit for the original idea to their father, Arthur. His obsession with Muggle gadgets had prompted them to decide that there might possibly be a market for them in the Wizarding community, which in turn led to the development of the 3W black box, a device which shielded electrical equipment from the effects of magic, and made it possible for the Wizarding World to join the rest of us in obsessing over Big Brother.

Fred and George Weasley, ever keen to diversify, were thinking seriously about investing in Magus. Negotiations had now reached the point where Malfoy and Neville were almost sure they had the deal in the bag. Hence their invitation to the Weasleys to join them in the Magus box to watch Puddlemere United play the Montrose Magpies in the final of the UK Quidditch League Trophy. I hadn't originally expected to be involved in this junket, as Wizarding investors were Pansy's responsibility but when she'd pulled out at the last minute and Malfoy had asked me to take her place, I'd accepted with alacrity. I was intrigued by the Weasleys, and I wasn't going to pass up a chance to meet them.

Hermione had been somewhat reticent on the subject of Ron's twin brothers. "We don't see much of them these days. They're always too busy." Her expression said that she didn't think much of that excuse, and she quickly changed the subject.

The Weasley twins were quite different from what I expected. I had a mental picture of two intense, driven, uber-entrepreneurs. The reality was a couple of middle-aged adolescents with a taste in clothes that resembled a wizarding version of Del-Boy Trotter, all flashy dragon-hide trimmed robes and heavy gold jewellery. They sailed up to us, slapping Malfoy on the back so hard he nearly fell over.

"Malfoy!! How's our favourite ferret?"

"Hello Weasley - and Weasley." Malfoy's tone held the deliberate calm of someone who is determined not to be provoked, no matter what.

"Ferret?" I whispered to Neville.

"Tell you later," he mouthed. "He's a bit sensitive about it." We moved forward to join Malfoy and the Weasleys.

"Neville, mate."

"Good to see you."

"Fred, George." Neville shook hands with the twins, and gestured to me. "Vanessa Granger, Fred and George Weasley. Watch your back, and on no account accept anything they offer you to eat unless you're prepared to find yourself sprouting feathers."

"Aww, Neville -"

"- Trust you to spoil our fun." I found myself the subject of intense scrutiny from two identical pairs of eyes with a distinct lecherous gleam.

"Nice to meet you Vanessa. Ignore Neville -"

" - We're harmless, really."

"Glad to meet you both." I reached out and shook hands with Fred or George (I don't know which - I never did learn to tell them apart) and recoiled as I was hit by a sharp electrical shock. The twins roared with laughter.

"Gotcha!"

"As you're a Muggle we thought we'd try out our latest Muggle toy on you." I smiled politely, and decided Neville was right - the Weasley twins were definitely not to be trusted under any circumstances.

"Are they always like this?" I asked him as we followed Malfoy and the Weasleys up the steps to the Magus box.

"I'm afraid so."

It quickly became clear that it was not going to be an easy evening. The Weasleys were determined to do everything they possibly could to wind Malfoy up, and Malfoy was equally determined to avoid being wound. Neville had to step in several times to diffuse the situation. He and I were both very relieved when the game finally started.

The magically-amplified voice of the commentator boomed across the stadium. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO THE EIGHT HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SECOND FINAL OF THE UK QUIDDITCH LEAGUE TROPHY!" The spectators responded with a cheer that shook the stands. I scanned the crowd with the Omnioculars Blaise had lent me and was interested to note there was more than a fair sprinkling of Muggles. Since Sky had bought the TV rights to the League games Quidditch had built up quite a following in the Muggle world. The members of two teams zoomed on to the pitch as the compere named them one by one. The cheering grew more intense as the Puddlemere Players emerged. It was obvious who the crowd was waiting for.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I GIVE YOU BELL - SPINNET - FAWCETT - DA SILVA - ROSTOV - FARLEY - AAAAND - POTTER!!!" If the cheering had been loud before, now it almost took the roof off the stands. Harry Potter, Puddlemere's Seeker, more popularly known as The Man Who Defeated Voldemort, zoomed on to the pitch waving to his eager fans. The Potter who held the crowd in the palm of his hand was a very different animal from the shy boy in the Weasley family photo. The hideous specs were gone, and the unruly black hair was now better described as stylishly tousled rather than simply messy. He did a lap of the pitch, being showered with flowers and other less mentionable tokens of esteem by his female fans, blew a kiss to one overwrought witch who promptly fainted, and took his place with his team-mates.

"He seems to have come to terms with his celebrity," I murmured to Malfoy, who was watching Potter intently with a cynical smile hovering on his lips.

"Indeed." Malfoy agreed, wryly. "I always thought the downtrodden orphan persona was rather an act, myself." No love lost there, then, despite the passage of time and the fact that they each owed their lives to the other.

I could see why Quidditch had such a hold on the Wizarding psyche. The game was fast, furious and incredibly dangerous. It was fun to watch but scary. I cringed as I watched Potter perform some hair-raising aerial acrobatics as he tried to avoid a Bludger sent hurtling towards him by one of the opposing team's Beaters. I was so engrossed in the game I was completely taken by surprise when Malfoy suddenly flung himself out of his seat and onto the floor of the box, taking me with him.

"Wha -?"

"Keep down," he hissed, as a jet of red light shot past inches away from us, and hit the back of the chair I had been sitting in. With reflexes honed by years of combat, Neville and the Weasleys had also hit the deck. Neville peered over the edge of the box.

"Down there, to the right - look." I silently passed Malfoy the Omnioculars, and he crawled over to Neville, focusing them in the direction of his pointing finger. I peered cautiously over the edge of the box, and saw what they were looking at. Several tiers down and slightly to the right, a fight had broken out between a group of flashily dressed wizards and a party of equally dubious looking Muggle men. Punches were being thrown and curses were zooming everywhere. It was clear that someone was going to get badly hurt if it wasn't stopped, and quickly.

Malfoy's mouth was a hard line. "By the time the stewards arrive they'll have a riot on their hands. I'm going down there." He drew his wand.

"I'm coming with you," three voices replied at once. Neville and the Weasleys had also drawn their wands.

Malfoy nodded at the Weasleys, and then looked at Neville. "Longbottom, someone needs to stay and look after Miss Granger." It wasn't a request. For a moment I thought Neville was going to protest but then he nodded. Malfoy and the Weasleys turned, climbed up on the rim of the box, and with a muttered charm, floated down towards the scene of the brawl. Neville and I watched their progress, while trying to keep our heads down. It looked as if the hooligans on both sides were coming off worst. I spotted the Weasleys, back to back, firing curses at the wizard mob with practiced ease while Malfoy subdued the ringleader of the Muggle posse with a hex that made him go rigid and topple like a felled tree. The others, thinking better of it, shouldered their way into the crowd and disappeared.

It was just at that moment that a crack sounded behind us and I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye.

"Neville!" But Neville had already swung round, and a jet of red light caught the shoulder of one of the flashily-dressed wizards, who had appeared behind us, wand pointed straight at Neville. The man staggered, swore, and disappeared with another crack. Neville moved us to the rear of the box with our backs to the wall.

"Are you alright, Vanessa?"

"Yes, fine." Our eyes met. "He was after you. This whole thing was a set up."

"You can't be sure of that," Neville protested. "And please, Vanessa, not a word of this to Draco, OK?" I nodded reluctantly.

Malfoy and the Weasleys returned shortly afterwards, and we settled down to watch the rest of the game. I couldn't concentrate. My mind was busy with the implications of what had just happened. Who was after Neville, and why? I was only recalled to the present when Potter stole the Snitch from under the nose of the opposing Seeker by a brilliant use of the Wronski Feint and the crowd went wild.

As we left the box, Malfoy, Neville and I were somewhat subdued. The Weasley twins, however, were in the best of spirits. They slapped Malfoy on the back again, informed him they'd decided to put money into Magus, and told him to "get his people to owl their people" before Disapparating. Malfoy and Neville shook hands triumphantly, and the three of us repaired to the Manor for a celebratory drink.

"I really thought we'd lost them at first," Malfoy declared, pouring us each a glass of champagne. "All I can think is that I seem to have passed some kind of bizarre Gryffindor initiation test. Or is it just a Weasley thing?"

Neville raised his glass and clinked it against mine and Malfoy's in turn. "I don't blame them Draco. You spent most of your teens winding them up about how poor they were, and then ten years later you come and ask them for money. You're lucky it wasn't much, much worse."

Malfoy snorted. "Oh, honestly Longbottom, you're beginning to sound like Dumbledore." I noticed, however, that he looked thoughtful. Once again, Neville had got through to him in a way no-one else could. Whatever the root of their odd friendship was, it certainly ran deep.

***

Malfoy's appetite for the Muggle world had been whetted by the practical tasks I'd given him such as posting a letter and using public transport. After a while he branched out into visiting the cinema and going to plays and concerts. Sometimes he went alone, and sometimes he invited me to accompany him. One such visit to the National to see Michael Gambon playing Prospero in the Tempest led to a very interesting conversation about Muggle perceptions of magic.

After that, things really took off when I showed him how to use the internet - purely for research purposes, of course. He bought a computer and spent hours surfing. When that paled he developed a taste for Muggle literature and bought books by the lorry load from Amazon and the Swindon branch of Waterstones. Next came satellite TV, and he cross-examined me in minute detail about the relationship of Muggle soaps to real life (tenuous at best) and how much reality there was in reality TV (none whatsoever). He even tracked down a DVD of the appalling detective series I'd been in and watched all eight episodes, much to my embarrassment.

All this gave him a lot more confidence with our customers. When I overheard him enthusiastically discussing the previous night's episode of Eastenders with the Marketing Director of one of the larger health food chains I decided that he'd virtually earned his Diploma in Understanding of Muggle Life. Except for one thing. I was determined that before I'd finished with him I'd have Malfoy actually socialising with Muggles. It only remained to find the right occasion. This came sooner than I'd expected.

One of the regular fixtures on my social calendar was Beth's annual party to celebrate David's birthday. Some people may think this weird but she'd carried on throwing him a birthday celebration even after he was killed. Those of us who knew Beth well understood that she did it to celebrate his life not to dwell on his death.

I was looking forward to taking Blaise, who was the only man I'd even been out with who had not been rather freaked out by the idea. Indeed, he seemed intrigued as he said it was similar to something the old Wizarding families did to honour their dead. He'd even got me to take him shopping for Muggle gear, as he felt that it was more appropriate to the occasion. So, I was doubly disappointed when he phoned on the morning before the party to say he couldn't come. When Elaine handed me the phone, mouthing, "It's Blaise," I knew what he was going to say. He'd warned me a couple of days before that he had a big deal coming up. The Goblins paid well but they also expected their pound of flesh.

"Sorry, Vanessa, it looks like I won't be able to make tonight." He sounded truly regretful.

"Oh, that's fine. Don't worry about it." I tried to sound casual and ignore the unexpected lump in my throat.

"I'll make it up to you," he promised. "Dinner at Rodrigo's as soon as this deal goes through, yes?"

"You're on."

"Listen, I've been thinking. Why don't you ask Draco to go with you? You said yourself it was time he had some concentrated exposure to Muggles in their own world."

The more I thought about it, the more the idea appealed. "You know, I might just do that." As luck would have it, my intended victim wandered into the office just as I put the phone down.

"Mrs Fogworthy, where - Why are you looking at me like that, Miss Granger?"

"Malfoy, what are you doing tonight?"

***

The doorbell rang at exactly 6.30 pm that evening. As I might have predicted, Malfoy, who was inevitably late, had chosen to arrive dead on time on one of the few occasions I was running late. I used some highly unladylike language, threw on a bathrobe, bundled my still-wet hair into a towel and opened the door. Malfoy was standing on the doorstep, dressed in Muggle clothing and carrying a bottle of red wine. A peek at the label told me it was a very expensive Burgundy. He quirked an eyebrow at my current state of undress.

"I'm not early, am I?"

"No. I'm late. Come in and make yourself comfortable while I finish getting ready." I left him in the living room inspecting my bookshelves and hurried to finish dressing. When I emerged from the bedroom he was sitting in one of my armchairs engrossed in Pride and Prejudice. As I entered he looked up and smiled.

"Very nice."

"Glad you approve." I felt self-conscious, without really understanding why.

He rose, and turned round slowly so that I could take in his appearance. "What do you think? Do I pass muster, Professor Granger?" He was wearing a simple white cotton t-shirt with black jeans. A stylish black leather jacket was thrown casually over the arm of the chair. His blonde hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and secured with a silver ring. I had to admit, he looked good in Muggle clothing.

I know this sounds stupid, but in the months I had been working for him I'd somehow managed to forget that Draco Malfoy was a very handsome man. Now, seeing him in a different context as it were, the realisation hit me full force. What's more, I got the distinct impression he was quite well aware of my startled reaction, and rather amused by it. To cover up my embarrassment, I adopted a mock-professorial manner.

"Excellent, Mr Malfoy, excellent. Ten points to Slytherin."

"Only ten? My late lamented housemaster would have made it fifty at least."

"From what I hear, your late lamented housemaster was outrageously biased. Come on, we're late." I marched Malfoy out to the car before he had the chance to riposte, and drove us to Beth's. I'd insisted from the start that this would be a completely magic-free evening. I would have preferred to get him to leave his wand at home but I recognised that Malfoy's enemies could just as easily attack him in my world as in his. I assumed he had it stowed away in a hidden pocket somewhere in the jacket, but I didn't ask.

The party was in full swing when we reached Beth's. She waved to us enthusiastically from where she was holding court amongst a group of friends and hugged me, casting an appreciative glance at Malfoy as she did so.

"Vanessa, honey. Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Beth, this is Draco."

"Draco, eh? Crazy name, crazy guy! Delighted to make your acquaintance, Draco." I realised that Beth was a little pissed, as she usually was on these occasions. Taking a positive stance is all very well but I knew she missed David dreadfully.

"And I'm delighted to make yours, Beth," Malfoy responded, taking her outstretched hand. "Vanessa's told me so much about you." Social interaction in the Wizarding World sometimes made me feel I was living in a Jane Austen novel. First-names were almost never used, except with family members and very close friends. Malfoy had taken a lot of persuading that the casual adoption of first-name terms with relative strangers that prevailed in the Muggle world wasn't meant as an insult. He would, after he understood the difference between Muggle and Wizarding custom, occasionally call me Vanessa outside of work but at work I was still always Miss Granger. Neville, on the other hand, had many Muggle-born friends, and had taken to calling me Vanessa right from the off.

I left Malfoy talking to Beth and went to look up one or two of the people I'd known when I worked for the management consultants. After half an hour spent catching up on the gossip, Malfoy drifted over to join me and I introduced him to the group. They had never met a wizard before, and he was instantly the focus of attention. One of the consultants, Diana Prendergast, known in office circles as Dangerous Di due to her predatory behaviour with anything male, homed in on him immediately.

"So you're a wizard, right? Fascinating. I've always wanted to meet a real live wizard."

"Honestly, Di, give the man some space. You'll be asking him to show you his wand next."

"Oh, would you like to see it?" Malfoy asked with affected innocence. "Eleven and a half inches, ebony with a dragon heartstring core. Excellent for Defence Against the Dark Arts." Di Prendergast wasn't the only one with a predatory gleam in her eye, and I abandoned Malfoy to his fate, assuring myself that he was a big boy and quite capable of looking after himself.

I spent the rest of the evening renewing old acquaintances and making new ones. I lost sight of Malfoy for a while in the ebb and flow of events. The focus of the party, as these things do, moved from one room to another according to the mood of the participants. At one time, all sixty people who'd actually turned up appeared to be crammed into Beth's kitchen. When the dancing started I spotted Di Prendergast teaching a bewildered Malfoy how to do the Time Warp. I wish I'd had a camera on me to capture that moment - it would have given me years' worth of blackmail material.

It was a relief to spend an evening in what seemed a rather mundane manner after the roller coaster ride that was my life in the Wizarding World. It was nice to be just one more inhabitant of a world where the only peril most of us face on a daily basis is getting a speeding fine or receiving a sharp memo from The Management. True, the Muggle world also had its dangers but I wasn't bought face to face with them all the time.

The party ended around 2.00 am when we cut the cake, sang Happy Birthday, and toasted David in champagne, as was Beth's usual custom. As the last strains of the song died away, Malfoy sidled up to me with Di Prendergast clinging to him like a limpet.

"Ready to go?" Get me out of here - please, his expression pleaded. I took pity on him and went to find Beth to say goodbye.

"Thanks for coming, hon." She hugged me again, and whispered, "That boyfriend of yours is absolutely gorgeous. Do they all look like that where he comes from?"

Oh dear. In all the confusion I'd forgotten to tell her that Blaise wasn't coming. "Actually, Beth, he isn't my boyfriend. Blaise couldn't make it. Draco's my boss - one of them. He volunteered to accompany me at the last minute." I wasn't about to tell Beth I was using her party as an experiment in Muggle/Wizard interaction. There is only so much truth a friendship can take, after all.

Beth seemed amused. "Well I never. Wouldn't have known if you hadn't told me. He seemed very keen on you. Talked about you non-stop."

"Oh, he was just being polite, I expect. Hasn't got a good word to say for me usually." Beth laughed, but I could tell she wasn't convinced. We said goodnight, and she said she'd ring me to arrange dinner one evening so that she could meet Blaise.

"Perhaps you can bring that handsome boss of yours, since he isn't spoken for."

On the way home Malfoy and I were fairly quiet. Both of us were too fatigued for much conversation. I was jolted from my reverie when Malfoy, who had been staring out of the window at one of the more boring stretches of the M4, suddenly broke the silence.

"She's an extraordinary person, your friend."

"She'll be flattered to know you think so. She rather took to you."

He smiled, then grew serious again. "It is quite a shock to realise just how naïve we wizards are about the Muggle world. We think you live a cosy life free of danger, bumbling happily along, choosing not to see what is right in front of your noses. In reality, your world is not a lot different from ours after all." I'd told Malfoy about the circumstances of David's death. He'd simply nodded and asked no further questions. I assumed he'd come across the background during his internet phase.

"So I'm constantly telling people. A landmine can kill you just as dead as Avada Kedavra. We Muggles have an infinite number of ingenious ways of killing each other, though I'm not sure that's anything to boast about."

"Too true." We pulled up outside my flat, got out of the car. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Thank you for coming. I think you passed with flying colours. Mr Malfoy, I hereby declare you to have graduated with First Class Honours from the Vanessa Granger University of Muggle Life. From now on, you're on your own."

He responded with an elaborate bow. "Thank you, Professor." To my surprise, he moved closer and kissed me tentatively on the cheek. " I couldn't have done it without you, Vanessa."

He Disapparated, and I let myself into the flat, congratulating myself on a task well done, and wondering why I felt a sudden unexpected wave of sadness.

***