Ron glared crossly at his shoes; almost sure steam was rising from his ears. Harry has no right to be angry with me! So what? We were late, but he has my bloody sister! Always pulling his “high and mighty” attitude. I wouldn’t mind for once... FOR ONCE not having to deal with him.
Sensing Hermione grow uncomfortable beside him as she unclasped her hand from his, she broke the awkward silence, “It’ll be fine. I will go in and get us a table, no worries.”
He could hear the touch of anger in her voice as her footsteps hit the cobblestone street. Throwing his head back up to look at Harry, a glare of equal intensity was waiting for him.
“Great. Well done mate. Well done. Now we are going to have a swell evening.” Harry’s words were dripping with sarcasm as he clapped his hands.
“Clear off Harry! Why the hell didn’t you do anything!? If you would have just kept our seats, we would be eating right now!” The anger was radiating from Ron’s shoulders in rapid waves.
“She is not mine…nor should she be yours. I heard about your escapades with Ms. Brown last night.” Harry spat at him. “If I were you, I would be going after Hermione right now and attempting to be at least one fifth of the proper gentleman that she deserves!”
Feeling his face grow to the color of his hair, Ron’s mind emptied of all possible come backs. He turned to catch up with Hermione. Last night was one rough night, he thought to himself. If only people knew how much worse than hell Azkaban really was!
Ron stopped short in his tracks. There, a few feet in front of him Malfoy had a strong grasp on Hermione’s wrist.
“THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO MESS WITH RONALD WEASLEY!!” Ron yelled as he began to move again. His rants however were no match with the deafening sound of an explosion that immediately followed. Watching the ball of fire roll over the figures at the café door on a collision course with him, all Ron could do was fall to the ground and pray that a mistake was the not the last thing he made of his life.
***
“Where did you expect me to be, Malfoy?” Granger’s expression had immediately fallen into one of annoyance, something that didn’t suit her pretty little face.
It was at that moment that Draco heard what he had been waiting for all evening, not a phrase commonly spoken during the ordinary muggle meal. The only question, why?
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath as the realization hit him. He grabbed his wand from his left pocket and shoved the girl to the ground. Covering her with his body, he heard himself yelling the first thing that came to mind,
“PROTEGO INCENDIA!”
Watching the flames pass overhead, Draco could still feel the intense heat from the fire ripping through the what-once-was café. If he didn’t act quickly, they would be without oxygen before he knew it. It would be tough to explain to Granger the need to apparate with only seconds to spare, he didn’t even know if she was conscious.
Feeling dread overwhelm his body, Draco realized that he would have to attempt a side by side apparition. Knowing that if he wasn’t strong enough, one or both of them could end up half here and half there – not suitable for daily activities such as walking, talking, or living. What would his father say about this, Draco Malfoy saving a mud-blood? What would his father say about a lot of things? Closing his eyes tightly, he grabbed a hold of the brown haired girl and focused as hard as he could, feeling himself being pulled many different directions into the darkness.
“Not here,” Draco said to the person that was strongly encased in his grip, “Not here.”
***
Hermione felt as if she had been sleeping for days, weeks maybe. Yet, she was as sore as if she had been hit by a truck. What had she been doing to feel like this? The last thing she had remembered was walking to the café near her home. She had been going to fetch a table for Harry and Ron…
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? She appears to be waking.” Hermione, unable to open her swollen eyes, heard a female voice a few feet from her bed. A chair scrapped against the floor and a trail of heavy footsteps faded from beside the bed and out the door.
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. Who had been at her bed? If only these blasted eyes would open.
“Hermione dear, my name is Susan and I am your healer at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Are you in any pain?”
Her voice only coming out in a whisper, “If you think what happened to me was bad, you should have seen the other guy!” chuckling until it hurt, she realized she wasn’t in too much pain, whatever they gave her was actually working pretty well.
Susan laughed and continued, “You took a pretty hard fall to the ground during an explosion at a café in the East part of London. Do you remember that? Your face is quite swollen, but that should go down in a day with the spells that I’ve been using. The gentleman you were with apparated you here surprisingly well, considering the injuries and smoke inhalation you both sustained. If you had stayed at the scene any longer, you would have been burned beyond recognition like many that were less fortunate than you. Enough talking for now, you need to rest. More medicine for you coming right up!”
Before Hermione had a chance to argue she felt a warmth coursing through her veins. Harry must have come after me, Hermione thought. She doubted Ron would be able to do a side by side apparition. Harry must have left to see Ginny, but he had been the one by her side.
***
Harry awoke to a cloud of smoke and flames. Surprised to find his glasses still on his face, he realized he was against the wall of a pastry shop that had been behind him. Staggering to his feet, Harry tried to make sense of the view in front of him. Hermione! If only he had been watching her! He began frantically searching, scouring the ground of bodies and debris that lay outside of the café. Spitting and coughing, Harry drug himself back across the street to the shop. If by chance she had made it inside, he thought, she would have joined the piles of ashes, what was left of the poor souls inside.
Stricken with grief, Harry’s mind flew to Ron. A quiet rage grew inside of him. Hermione had been by his side throughout the whole war, never been selfish, never asked too much of anyone. Once again, pulling himself from the wall, Harry held his shirt over his nose and mouth, and looked around for the red head. Ten feet to his left, he found Ron sitting in a pool of blood on the cobblestone, methodically picking glass out of his skin.
“RON!!” Harry roared as he stormed over to him. “IF YOU HAD JUST BEEN A GENTLEMAN. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN YOU, NOT HER!”
Ron was working on an inch long piece of glass sticking out of his right hand and began to laugh. “Malfoy had her Harry.”
Watching his friend laugh, Harry’s anger turned to worry.
“Ron, listen to me. Hold still for a second.” Sirens could be heard in the distance. Harry knelt and removed his wand from underneath his pant leg and began siphoning the blood from the open wounds littered over Ron’s body. “Now I won’t be able to close the ones with glass in it but this should help. I will contact your mum and we will get you moved to St. Mungos after they see you at a muggle hospital.”
Having a punch drunk air about him, Ron put his bloody hand up to Harry’s face and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Hey Harry. Why weren’t you hurt in the explosion? Nothing but a few bumps and bruises? You know, it was you who really should have been in the café, not us. Yet it was you that ended up across the street, letting Hermione and me walk to our demise. Just wondering, that’s all.”
Ron refocused on the shards of glass in his arm that appeared to be calling his name.
“We need help over here!!” Harry called to the newly arrived medics. Two gentlemen ran to Ron and Harry stood up.
“Potter!”
Harry whirled around looking for the person who had forcibly whispered his name.
Catching the shadows of a dark figure in the alley between the pastry shop and the book store to its left, Harry began to jog through the street and hurriedly crossed the sidewalk.
“Potter” The man said again, much weaker this time. Stepping out of the shadows, the tall, thin man covered in soot coughed and held his left arm against his body.
“Malfoy?!? Where did you take her?”
“St. Mungos, where she needs to be. She was unconscious when I left her, but as you see, I must go back too.” Malfoy gestured to his arm that he was cradling.
Harry squinted at Malfoy, trying to read any ulterior motives. If only he had mastered Legilimens.
“You knew this would happen Malfoy. You were here, so why her?”
“You know very well the reason Potter.” Malfoy grimaced. “You were there.”
Harry stood in silence as he slowly acknowledged this fact.
“Now be a good Potter and save the day. Everyone knows how you do that so well. I only hope that this life you have chosen doesn’t bite you in the ass one day.”
With that, Harry watched Malfoy close his eyes and disappear with a loud “crack” into the night.
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