Five Days In November

September 29, 1998

Hermione loved the wizarding village of Truchas.  The village was nestled high in the New Mexico mountains.  The pine trees were fragrant with sap.  The weather was warm during the day, but became quite chilly at night.  Hermione loved the endless blue sky and intense sunshine.  It was a much-needed change from England. 

The village buildings were constructed of adobe, a material that was a mix of clay and straw.  The adobe buildings were cool in the summer and warm in the winter.  The village had a small plaza that housed shops and other businesses. 

Hermione rented a small adobe casita* from an older couple, the Garcias.  She was charmed by the small porch and turquoise front door.  An old wood rocker sat on the porch, along with a cord of firewood.  The casita had a small living room with a fireplace, a tiny, but fully equipped kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom.  The furniture in the house was simple, but comfortable.  Hermione enjoyed making a fire with the fragrant piñon* wood and reading until she couldn’t keep her eyes open. 

Though she was lonely, the people of Truchas had been kind to her.  Many of the residents knew who she was, but she had not been asked about the war or her part in it.  Her landlady, Mrs. Garcia, would often leave her fresh tortillas or a jar of green chile*.  Hermione appreciated the gesture, although she was still unsure about the spicy condiment. 

One benefit to her celebrity was her quick introduction to the elusive potion’s master, Jesus Machado.  He looked to be in his sixties, with a delicate hand and a quiet demeanor.  Hermione was relieved he wasn’t as critical as Severus Snape.  Though she loved potions, she did not think she could work with someone who made her feel like a fool.  She would not describe Jesus as sweet, but he was accepting and she felt that she would be able to learn from him.  Jesus worked in the lab twice a week and Hermione would assist him then.  She spent hours reading his notes on the local magical plants.  Some of the preparation techniques were unique to her, but overall she felt she was learning more about a subject that had always fascinated her. 

The rest of Hermione’s week was filled with reading and exploring the mountains that surrounded the village.  Cooking was something she had always enjoyed, so she ventured into Taos and purchased fruit, vegetables, fresh dairy and meat at the local market.  Hermione made herself delicious meals every day.  She began to gain weight.  Her cheeks were rosy and her hair began to shine.

Part of the magic of the village was the slow pace of life.  Hermione had been in a race against the forces of evil for so long that she needed to slow down and figure out who she was.  Her strength of character helped her to understand that she needed to take care of herself before she could take care of others.

October 10, 1998

Draco arrived in Los Angeles, California and stayed at the Four Seasons hotel.  California was all sunny skies and beautiful people, but Draco felt he had missed the mark in choosing a location for his soul searching.  Women seemed to try to figure out how much he was worth in their appraisal of his outer appearance.  He was usually ignored once it was clear he wasn’t famous.  At least most Americans seemed in the dark about his notoriety.  A few times, people stared at him in recognition, but their eyes didn’t hold the hatred he had seen before he left England.

The hotel’s spa boasted a massage with ingredients from a remote region of the American Southwest. Draco wondered if the massage might help some of the lingering pain he felt deep in his bones.  While Draco took care to look his best, his body was exhausted and often in pain.  He had been subjected to duels with highly experienced and cruel Death Eaters that often ended in him being used as a magical punching bag.  He had been crucioed, stupefied and bound in the aftermath of these duels.  With Voldemort in the manor, Draco had lost his appetite and ate the bare minimum of calories in order to survive.  Voldemort and the other Death Eaters were not above poisoning food to prove a point or punish someone. 

Draco’s massage therapist was a middle aged Hispanic woman named Sandra.  She was short and muscular.  She reminded Draco of Madame Pomfrey.  She greeted him and invited him to lay face down on the massage table.  The room was lit by candles that smelled of beeswax and sage.  A warm towel was placed on Draco’s lower half, while the massage therapist drizzled fragrant oil over his shoulders.  Sandra’s hands seemed to find the places where Draco felt the most pain.  She began by gently kneading his muscles, then added pressure until the muscles relaxed.  As Sandra massaged Draco, she quietly told the stories of how the massage ingredients helped people to heal from both physical pain and depression.   

As Draco listened to Sandra, he felt a surprising urge to cry.  For so long he had held himself together, even during his trial and his father’s imprisonment.  He tried to be a stable influence for his distraught mother.  During the massage he had a premonition that he needed to go and find this place of healing—and that he would begin to heal if he did so.  For the first time in his life, Draco was free to put himself first without regard to how he appeared to others as the heir to the House of Malfoy.  He let out a breath of relief.  He knew where he needed to go.           

A.N.- A casita is Spanish for a small house.  Piñon is Spanish for pine.  Chile is a spicy pepper commonly used in New Mexican cuisine.