¿Mixed Chemistry?

Chap 2.9 viva the dark arts convention

“I think we’re done here,” Draco said as he closed his folder, smiling.

Harry smiled back. He sat back into his chair. He studied his old rival and then remembered his old chemistry teacher friend.

“Hey, so well,” Harry began. Draco looked up. “The Convention’s coming up, huh.”

“What’s with you and this convention?” Draco laughed.

“Well, you said it yourself. Since you’ve been marked,” Harry said pointing at Draco’s forearm, “You haven’t gone. The company of those Death Eaters isn’t good enough for you?”

“Former Death Eaters, Harry,” Draco said a little defensively. “Besides, I’ve got a dinner this weekend to attend. We have things here at the Ministry to attend to as well. I don’t need to go to some Dark Arts Convention thousands of miles away from here.”

“Look, we’ll batten down the hatches here. You’ll be there for the week and you can apparate or floo back Friday evening. You won’t miss your dinner with Roxanne and everything will fall into place.”

“It’s a family dinner at the Manor,” Draco said a little aggressively.

“Okay,” Harry said.

“The Sterlings are coming though,” he said a little more sheepishly. “Why is it so important, Harry?”

“No reason. You deserve a break from here,” Harry said calmly. “Get out, sight see, visit other places.

“The peaceful atmosphere allows us to do a lot more than we could a couple of years ago, Draco. Take advantage of it. I hear Seville is a beautiful place.”

“Harry,” Draco said a little defeated.

“Look, we’re not going to tear up this place while you are gone. Trust us.”

“I’m about to go home now, Harry,” Draco said getting up. He turned back to Harry as Harry just gave him a smirk. Draco left Harry’s office a little peeved.

* * *

At Malfoy Manor, Draco sat at the dining room table sharing dinner with his mother and father. He thought about his conversation with Harry. He looked up. His father was reading the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. His mother was reading a magazine.

“Father,” Draco interrupted the silence.

Lucius Malfoy looked up, “Yes?”

“When was the last time you’ve gone to the Dark Arts Convention?”

“In Seville?”

“Yeah,” Draco said.

“Three years ago, I guess,” Mr. Malfoy looked back at his papers.

“I guess they have all sorts of seminars going on and everything?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Malfoy nodded. “Why? Are you planning to go this year?”

“I’ve been throwing that idea around,” Draco said as he finished his dinner. He sat back in his chair. One of the house elves came to collect his plate and was about to give him another one. He held out his hand. “Thank you, no.”

Mr. Malfoy looked at his son slightly taken aback at his graciousness. “Have you been sent to spy on them?”

Draco looked at his father. “No,” Draco said. Yet he wondered was that what Harry was getting at in his office.

“No,” Draco sighed. He stood up, “I just thought it would be interesting that’s all.”

Draco went to bed early that night. He couldn’t help thinking about what Harry had said. He did need a break from it all; at least for a while. One week would do wonders. And Harry was right. He could be back by Saturday.

He thought about the dinner on Saturday and sighed. Yes, he would be back in time to have dinner with the Sterling woman. He closed his eyes, giving way to sleep and dreams.

The hallway was dim. He only saw her from the back. He called out to her but she didn’t stop. “Roxanne,” he called again. He quickened his step to try to catch up to her.

She turned a corner and walked into a brighter hallway. He followed her. He slowed, trying to get used to the light. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a dark grey sweatshirt. Roxanne would never dress down like that he thought. He looked up at the back of her head as the woman waited in front of the lift. Her brown hair, whose ends lazily fell in soft curls, hung slightly past her shoulders.

“Hermione?” he said, taking a step forward as he heard the ding of the lift.

She turned slowly to face where the voice was coming. Her face was as he remembered it that night. He watched her take in a breath. Her dark brown eyes were piercing. He had to look away for a moment; slightly ashamed at staring at her. He looked up only to see the doors close on her.

“No!” he found himself yelling as he sat up under his covers. He blinked quickly. He smiled to himself as he went back to sleep.

* * *

Yes, a week would do you good, Draco, he thought to himself as he walked into Harry’s office Monday morning.

“Hey, Draco,” Harry said as he looked at the clock on the wall. ”You’re a bit early, aren’t you?”

“I’m taking your advice, Harry,” Draco said smiling.

“Okay, which piece of advice was that?” Harry asked returning his smirk.

“Ha, ha,” Draco said as he picked up his suitcase.

“Really?” Harry asked incredulously.

“One has to live a little sometimes. I’ll probably miss the first seminar, but I’ll probably sit in on the second one.”

“Which one’s that? So, You Want to Become a Death Eater?” Harry smiled.

“Very funny, Harry,” Draco said. “Hey, this isn’t some ploy to get me to spy on them is it?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Hey, get some sight seeing in all right.”

Harry stood up to walk Draco out to the lift, “You should check out the architecture at Garcia Lorca Escuela Secundaria. I hear the Science Department has some beautiful specimens, especially the Chemistry wing.”

Draco looked at him as if he were loony. Draco tapped the down button to the lift.

“Have a great trip, Draco,” Harry patted the platinum blonde on his back as he entered the lift.

Harry waved as the doors shut. He smiled as he turned to walk back to his office. He rubbed his hands together like a mad scientist having his plan suddenly come together.

* * *

The blonde wizard looked at his watch as the day’s seminar ended. He walked out with the rest of the former Death Eaters, overhearing some of them say how agitated they were at the situation they were in now.

Draco quickly walked out of the wizard hotel and hid a smile. He had helped to create the circumstances that these Death Eaters found themselves in and he regretted nothing. Peace prevailed all throughout the Wizarding world and with the help of an unlikely former adversary, Harry Potter, he had helped to bring it about.

He turned a corner and entered the little bar. He nodded at the barman who raised a glass at him. He declined a drink and headed for the exit. He stepped out into the bustling muggle world. So this is how the other half lives, he thought to himself.

He dressed, unlike other wizards, rather quite like muggles. He liked the Emporio Armani suits sold in muggle establishments. The dark grey suit he wore today identically matched his eyes. He walked down the streets looking into the store windows.

He walked into a sprawling area with a large green lawn; possibly a park he thought. He strolled down the pathways and for the first time in a long time since he had been at Hogwarts, he had stopped to admire nature’s beauty. It had been an hour since the seminar had ended. For once, he was not hard pressed to do anything.

He looked around marveling at the serenity of the park. He looked up and saw a plain looking sign with raised black letters across the street. Federico García Lorca Escuela Secundaria, the sign spelled out. He smiled to himself as he remembered his scarred friend mention the school. He looked up at what seemed to be the main building. He was right; the architecture was amazing.

It was nearly four o’clock as he looked at his watch. He realized he had not eaten that day. He caught something out of the corner of his eye. He was not sure if his empty stomach was playing tricks on him or not. He blinked again.

She looked more or less, like how he remembered her. Her hair was slightly shorter and she had placed it into a ponytail today. She wore a dark blue skirt suit; looking as professional as he imagined she would be. Even from his vantage point, he knew she wore little make-up if none at all. She carried an armful of books. He smiled to himself. He took a breath.

He watched her walk down the street, wanting to call out to her but stopping himself. He followed her, keeping his distance. He watched her walk up a short flight of steps to a building into which she entered. He pitched forward wanting to go after her. He stopped himself again. He took another deep breath, as his knees seemed to buckle. Whoa, so that is how that feels. He looked at the small pastry shop behind him. He entered it and took a seat, still trying to catch his breath.

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A/N: Okay, what do you guys think?