You Raise Me Up

I think you'll enjoy this chapter thoroughly. I just couldn't resist putting something American in there. I'm going to have a quiz at the end to see if anbody picked up on what it was. Extra credit if you tell me how you feel about it!!

This was a very enjoyable chapter to write. I just kept thinking about Draco in blue jeans....*drool*
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Hermione paced nervously at the library window. She was waiting on an owl that would give her and her group permission to go on a trip into the Muggle world to test their knowledge. The only reason she really had to get permission is because Lucius had been bound to the house.

A sharp tapping broke her reverie, and she opened the door for the severe looking eagle owl stood, the Minister’s personal crest on a ribbon around its neck. She opened the window, and allowed the large creature inside. She quickly retrieved the message from its leg, and unrolled the small parchment.

Miss Granger
As mush as I believe this is going to end badly, I do believe that part of your goal was to prepare these people to travel to the Muggle world unnoticed. Your permission is granted. If anything should happen to any Muggles, you will hold full responsibility for what happened. Do try to keep that black-haired, mangy creature away from the poor Muggles (I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which one I’m talking about.)

As for the funds you requested: request denied. You are a very capable witch. Mr. Malfoy has more money than the Ministry lauders, and you can march yourself right down to Gringotts bank and convert some of that oh-so-famous Malfoy money into Muggle pounds.

Good luck…you’ll need it.

Percy Weasley, Minister of Magic, England

Hermione growled dangerously.

“That fucking prick!” she cried, causing the awaiting owl to jump. She plucked a pen off of a nearby table, and across the entire letter, in large bold letters wrote; “YOU SUCK!!” before wrapping it back on the owl’s leg, and sending the large creature on its way.

“Who’s a fucking prick?” asked Bellatrix, who had just come into the room eating a very large sticky bun.

“Percy. That low-down, disgusting, filthy, traitorous, ugly, stupid, ignorant, power-hungry prick!” she hissed. Bellatrix chuckled.

“Good lord…I think Saint Granger is upset…” she said, and plopped down into her favorite chair in the library.

“Yeah…but it doesn’t matter. You stay here while I gather up the troops. We’re taking a trip into the Muggle world, and I need to lay down a few rules.” She said. Bellatrix groaned.

“I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m fat and tired…my feet are starting to hurt, and Severus promised he’d rub them for me…among other things…” she said, a mischievous look on her face. Hermione’s eyes widened, and she quickly walked out of the room.

It took about twenty minutes for them all to get down to the library. The last one down was Lucius, who had decided just minutes before he needed a shower. Hermione waited, her foot tapping, a stern look on her face.

“Thank you, Ma’am, for deciding it was necessary to come down.” She said, reaching down to pick up a box at her feet. She plopped it down on a table, and pulled out several bags. “Now. When I call out your name, I want you to come get your bag-”

“I’v already got mine…” Severus teased darkly, resting his hand on Bellatrix’s shoulder. She huffed indignantly, and slapped his leg for his impertinence.

Another sharp tapping at the window interrupted the group. Percy’s owl was tapping at the window, another parchment on its leg. Hermione cursed loudly, and went to the window. She jerked it open, and the owl came inside. Once the letter was removed, however, it was out the window again. Hermione opened the parchment.

You wish

Was the only thing written on the paper. It took Hermione a moment to catch what he was saying, but when she did, she growled, and set the paper on fire with wandless magic. The ashes disappeared as they floated to the floor.

“Any-fucking-way…” she said, and stomped back to the table. “You will get you bag- Severus if you interrupt me again I swear I will rip that god-awful smug look off your face and shove it up your arse- and then you will change into the contents.” She said, and then smiled. “Consider these your…armor.” She said.

“Lucius.” She called, and he stepped forward to take the bag from her hands. He opened it and pulled out a stylish black Muggle business suit, complete with a crisp white shirt and emerald green tie. “I’m sure you have some shoes that will go with that. You have more shoes than most women I’ve met…Narcissa.” She called, and the tall blonde woman stepped forward for her bag.

She opened it, feeling like a child at Christmas. She pulled out a fashionable emerald green button up shirt, adorned with a belt to nip in at her waist. Then she fished out a pair of flowing black pants that would cling to the hip, and flare out at the knees. There was also a matching handbag. “Same for you and the shoes. You have almost as many shoes as your husband…” she teased.

For Bellatrix she had provided some very stylish (and comfy) maternity jeans and a airy black v-neck shirt with peasant sleeves and a trendy black satin tie.

Draco was sporting jeans and a black t-shirt, and Hermione had taken the time to buy him some trainers. He scowled at them, but took them nonetheless.

“Okay. And…Severus. Here you go.” She said, holding out the bag. He sat stubbornly in his chair.

“No. I won’t wear any of those hideous clothes…” he said, and crossed his arms.

“Well you can’t go naked…only Bellatrix appreciates that…” she said. “Come on…”

“No…can’t I wear what I have?” he asked.

“Um…that’s a big fat NO. You are not wearing the batman suit into the Muggle world. I sear to you if you don’t take this bag and go put on these clothes I will personally strip you down and put them on you myself –don’t argue! I’ll do it! Don’t test me!” she said, her voice getting shriller. She hadn’t been feeling well since the whole Neville incident, and having to deal with that fuck-face Percy never made her feel any better. Severus stood grumpily, and grabbed the bag, opening it to inspect what she had chosen. He was pleased to see black dress pants and a soft black turtleneck sweater. He would never tell her that, though.

Once everyone had changed into their clothes, she met them in the foyer. She looked everyone over, inspecting their outfits. She clicked her tongue when she saw the Lucius had pulled his hair back with a ribbon.

“Um...no. Muggle men with long hair don’t use ribbons. They use elastic bands.” She said. She disappeared to her room, and then traded out his black ribbon for a black elastic. “There! Everyone looks great.” She said, and smoothed her t-shirt nervously. “Okay. I’ve arranged a port-key through the Ministry to take us to the edge of Diagon Alley. Then, we will walk just a tad into Muggle London. The place we are going is in walking distance.” She said.

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They stood in front of the Muggle restaurant, and Bellatrix frowned at the large yellow ‘M’.

“Bloody hell, it looks terrible…” Lucius said softly. But it was the epitome of Muggle, so they all went inside. There was music playing from speakers somewhere…loud enough to be heard and enjoyed, but quiet enough for the orders to be taken.

A lanky young muggle girl stood at the counter, smacking on gum and taking the orders. She was clearly enjoying the music, and would sway to the beat. Another cashier stepped up to her.

“Come on, Violet! Just because you’re American doesn’t mean you have to take over the radio! Nobody wants to listen to this country-fried crap!” he teased. It apparently struck a chord with the young girl.

“Listen, Hank…I will take over the radio whenever I darned well please! Just ‘cause I don’t wanna listen to yer namby-pamby falsetto junk don’t mean nothin’!" she cried, her American accent sticking out sorely. Just as the group stepped up to the counter, a strange pulsing song came over the speaker, accompanied by a violin and someone singing about ‘Cotton Eyed Joe.’ The English cashier groaned, and the young American whooped. Apparently the other patrons in the restaurant knew the drill, because the majority of them began clapping along with the beat. Violet jumped the counter, and used an empty space in the restaurant to begin a strange looking sort of jig. Her knees and legs bent at odd angles, but she looked to be thoroughly enjoying herself. She then began a fast-paced tap dance along with the beat of the song, causing many of the customers to whoop. Hank rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry, folks.” He said, trying to ignore the dancing American. “She takes over the radio that plays over the speakers, and every time that song comes on, she dances like a retard until it stops."

Hermione smiled. “Well, at least she’s enjoying herself…it’s kind of catchy…” she said. Hank groaned.

“Not after a million times it’s not…”

The song lasted approximately three minutes, but Violet never slowed her dancing. When the final notes of the song rang out over the speaker, the whole restaurant stood to its feet and gave her a thunderous applause. She grinned, bowed, and then jumped the counter as if nothing had happened. She wasn’t even winded as she took their orders.

“How may I help you?” she asked, smiling at them.

Bellatrix ordered two Big Macs, a medium fry, and a medium coke. Lucius went with something called a premium Ranch BLT sandwich, with fries and a coke. Narcissa had a chicken salad with bottled water. Severus grudgingly ordered a Big n’ Tasty, with no fries, and a Sprite to drink. Draco ordered a quarter pounder with cheese, on Hermione’s recommendation, and a medium fry. Hermione ordered the same as Draco, and got them both a coke.
Hermione allowed each of them to pay for their order separately, and then they waited as the order was filled. Then they retrieved their food, and found a booth large enough to accommodate them.

The meal was relatively quiet. Bellatrix discovered that she really didn’t like the Big Macs, but being six months pregnant by that point, she really couldn’t give a fuck less what she shoved in her mouth. She ate both of her sandwiches, her fries and Severus’, and refilled her drink three times.

Hermione had just finished her food, but it didn’t seem to want to settle in her stomach. She squirmed slightly in her seat as her stomach gurgled unhappily. Narcissa looked at her, clearly worried.

“Are you all right, my dear?” she asked.

Hermione felt the familiar moist water dripping in her mouth. She was going to throw up. “Move….” She said, trying to scoot out around Lucius. “Move!” she hissed, and he scooted out quickly, watching as she ran to the bathroom. Hermione threw open the door to the bathroom, clearly relieved that there was an open stall. She held her hair back with her hand, bent over the toilet, and was violently ill. Once she was sure she had emptied herself completely, she flushed, and washed her face thoroughly with the cold water at the sink. Bellatrix walked through the door.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Hermione nodded, and held a paper towel to her face. Bellatrix frowned, and walked up to the young witch. “You know…you haven’t been well in almost a month…” she said.

“I’ve just been really stressed out since that whole fiasco with Neville. I’ll be fine…my food didn’t agree with me.” She said.

Bellatrix inhaled deeply, and then sighed. “I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a little while, my dear…” she started, clearly uncomfortable with where this conversation was about to go. “I know that you and Draco are…sexually active…I’m just wondering if you have used…protection?” Bellatrix asked. Hermione seemed to freeze in her place. She hadn’t cast any contraceptive spell…and she could never remember Draco casting one. She looked at Bellatrix, positive the woman could hear her heart pouding in her chest. “I thought not…” Bellatrix said grimly.

Hermione gulped. “So you think…”

“Yes, my dear. I think you might be pregnant…”
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Oh no!! What shall we do! Hermione doesn't have time to bring a child full term before the tests given to our little Death Eater Bunch!! This looks like a job for...dun dun dun....Super Saint Potter! Just kidding...but eventually I'm going to have to plug them back in here...they have to react and all...

Tell me what you think. Don't forget about the quiz.

(And for those who haven't heard the song Cotton Eyed Joe, like possibly our British and other friends, you must go to Youtube.com and search for 'Cotton Eyed Joe.' It's so white trash and catchy....ah....rednecks...)