Long Way To Azkaban

Long Way To Azkaban
Hermione/Ginny. PG-13. AU. Songfic of Modern Day Bonnie and Clyde by Travis Tritt.


It’s a long way to Azkaban
If you do it just right
With a redhead ridin’ shotgun
And a Death Eater by my side
Tearin’ down that highway
Like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde...


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Hermione tapped her fingers impatiently against the bar as she waited for the woman to bring her order. Draco, being ill-mannered as ever, was fighting the leash tied to her wrist, yowling like the spoiled tomcat he was. There were days when she seriously considered shooting that bastard. The woman handed her a paper bag and a Styrofoam cup.

“Large coffee, black; a burger, cheese fries and some milk for the kitty.” The woman said, reng ong out to pet Draco with a fat, grubby hand.

Draco, poised on the counter, glared at her, arched his back, and hissed. She changed her mind about petting the white-golden tabby and went back to work.

Hermione checked the order again.

“Uh, hey.” She caught the woman’s attention. “There’s no cheese on the fries.” She informed her.

The woman scowled and set down the coffeepot after refilling the cups of the other patrons of the truckstop, two burly, hairy, bearded men. Hermione avoided eye contact with them, as they both ran the same routes, but their truck company was different from hers. She didn’t exactly want to be waylaid and have to pay for a lost load and buy a new rig.

Draco was scowling at her and gnawing his leash when the woman finally got around to giving her the proper order. Hermione knew Draco hated being leashed, but it was better than leaving him in the cab – he’d whine about it for hours if she did. He poked her with his nose, begging again. He knew as well as she did that he was easier to feed in this form. She batted him away, and he huffed, lashing his tail.

Little snot, she thought, scooping him up and carting him out to her truck.

Ever since Harry and Dumbledore had been killed in the wake of their defeat at Voldemort’s hands, Hermione and her two refugee charges had been blending themselves into the muggle world of America, where they were *much* harder to find, despite the conspicuous British accents.

As it was, they were a melee bunch, but got along rather well as long as they weren’t to hungry anaco aco didn’t decide to pitch a hissy fit.

Which he did. Often.

Fawkes had been rescued by Hagrid and given to Hermione for safekeeping shortly before Hogwarts fell, and Draco had left the Death eaters at earliest opportunity and drug her out here where he insisted they’d be safe as long as he stayed in animagus form and nobody knew about Fawkes. The result was temporary peace for them these last few months, but now that Voldemort was taking over the United States as part of the world on a whole, it didn’t appear that it would last too long. Draco, Hermione and Fawkes were still quite determined to live it out as best they could until the Death Eater-bought Aurors caught them and made an end of it.

Hermione opened the cab door and tossed Draco in, then climbed up one-handed, bearing food. Draco took a seat on the front dash and waited for his supper.

“Fawkes first, you bloody fool.” He told him off good-naturedly, and rubbed his head. He clawed her. She jerked her hand back and flicked him off. He grinned and began licking his paw in a self-pleased way. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked around before opening up the curtain that sectioned off the back of the extended cab.

Fawkes sat on his perch-in-a-pail, and trilled a greeting at her. “Hey you.” She said, and rubbed the pheonix’s head. Smelling the cheese fries on her hand, he made his begging for food noise. Draco meowed and began to claw at the window, wanting out. She sighed, dumped the fries into Fawkes’s food cup, and clambered back into the front seat.

“You evil little pecker, we just were out, why didn’t you have a pee then?” She asked the cat. He laid his ears back. She leashed him again, and with him fighting and clawing at the leather, took him out of the. On. On reflection, she grabbed her burger as well.

She stood with her hands in her pockets while he did his business behind one of the eighteen-wheeler’s tires, in a pothole. With her hair cropped ear-length, and her baggy clothes, she could pass for a guy, if she weren’t so short, she decided, littering with the empty food wrapper. It was cold here in Tennessee, but Johnson City in general seemed pretty quiet, and her watch read 11:30 pm. Time to get back on the road, before it got any later.

“Hey!” Someone yelled behind her. She turned. Draco peeped out from behind the tire, probably stalling to annoy her, anyway.

Hermione saw a buxom redhead with a short skirt waving at her, headed out of the truck stop diner with a cup in her hand. Something about her boots seemed familiar. “Which way are you headed, boy?” She said with an accent familiar to Hermione’s homesick UK ears.

Several other drivers perked up their ears and watched her walk across the parking lot.

“Ah, er…taking a load up to Akron, Ohio. Due tomorrow at three.” Hermione replied. Draco came out from behind the tire, curious.

The girl seemed to think for a minute. “Alright. Need some company?”

“Sure.” Hermoine replied. What was one more?

Draco headed over to the girl and began sniffing her legs.

“Mind the cat.” Hermoine thought she ought to call a warning. Even though it appeared Draco would settle for an up-skirt peep.

The girl squatted to pet him and Draco let her, with a funny look on his face. “He’s a gorgeous tomcat.” The girl enthused.

“Yeah, but he can be a real dick sometimes.” Hermoine replied. The girl didn’t seem startled to hear someone talk like that about a cat, merely amused.

“What’s your name?” Hermione asked.

“Virginia.” She replied.

“Mine’s Henry.” Hermione gave the girl her nickname and call sign instead of her real name. It was never safe to trust anyone anymore.

“This is Draco.” Hermione said, poking the purring cat with her boot toe.

“I used to know a Draco.” Virginia s wit without looking up.

“It’s an Italian name.” Hermione said.

“I know. Means ‘dragon’.”

“Really? I thought it meant evil little prat.”

They both laughed.

“Aw, come on, he’s not so bad. Rather sweet.”

“Hah, right.” Hermione said, then, “Come on, I’ll make some space so we can load up and get going.”

She crawled up into the cab, dusted off the passenger seat, and moved Draco’s cat-haired comfort blanket (which he refused to let her tease him about having ot knead and suckle before he went to sleep) to the middle seat, out of the way. She tidied up the back, told Fawkes to keep it quiet, and closed up the curtains tightly, slipping out her wand and casting a hiding spell, just in case. Tucking her wand back up on top of the sun visor, she opened Draco’s milk carton and stuck a straw in it so he could drink it along the way.

“Alright.” Hermoine said, changes made. “Come on in, and I hope you’re not allergic.” She didn’t mention to pheonix, hoping Virginia would assume cat.

Virginia climbed in gracefully and settled with Draco on her lap, buckling up.

“His milk’s on the dash, and he can drink it through a straw, if he seems interested. My coat’s on the floor if you get cold, and feel free to fall asleep, if you like.” Hermione stated, starting up the truck.

*****

Virginia had her stop at a Quick Mart that was a quick mart to muggles, yet to wizards…well, the best way to put it would be non-automated ATM. Hermoine wondered if Virginia could see the signs, or was just going about muggle business at a muggle gas stop. Hermoine gassed up the truck, and waited, engine running.

After a few minutes, Virginia burst out the front door, a non-muggle money sack in her hands. It was heavy, impeding her run. She managed, and swung up into the cab, then yelled at Hermione, “Go, go, go! He’s after me, hit the gas!” Draco woke from the noise, and Fawkes squawked in the back from the lurch of their flight, but Hermione didn’t think Virginia noticed.

She was too busy laughing.

And there was something familiar about her laugh, the hair, the boots. Ginny!

“Ginny Weasley!” She said, once they were on the highway.

Ginny looked at her, fear in her eyes.

Hermione took off her hat, fluffed up her hair with one hand. “It’s Hermione!”

Ginny stared. “It is! It is you!” She leapt across the seat to hug Hermione, nearly squishing Draco, who fled into the back.

“Oh darn, now I’ve lost your cat.” Ginny leant over the backseat to fetch him, treating Hermione to a view of upraised arse, riding skirt, and black lace boyshort panties. Hermione murmured, “Oh God.” at the sight and looked away. She’d been on the road far too long.

Ginny returned to her seat after a moment, with a thoughtful expression and Draco latched lustily onto her breasts with gentle claws, ogling her cleavage. “Hermione…that phoenix you have back there…is it Fawkes?”

“Er…yeah.” Hermione admitted. “Secret, alright?”

Ginny nodded.

“So, what’d you get?” A voice asked from the backseat between them.

Hermione sighed, itching to slap Draco. “I told you not to change unless we were somewhere safe, you stupid Death Eater git.” She fussed at him.

Ginny jumped and stared. “*This* is your cat, Hermione?”

Draco grinned at her.

“Oh, you evil thing.” Said,aid, and tugged his ear. “Change back before you get us in trouble, k?” She asked sweetly, and much to Hermione’s surprise, he did.

*****

At midnight, Ginny convinced Hermione that reunion of old schoolmates was reason enough to stop and celebrate, screw the delivery timeline.

They stopped at a motel in Richmond, Virginia. The state, Ginny’s namesake, had turned out to be a disappointment and bore to her. It was dark, so the view of mountain scenery was littlre tre than hulking black shapes on either side of the road out the truck windows.

Ginny carried Draco in, and Hermione, carrying Fawkes, went first the the motel room and flipped on the lights. She set Fawkes’s perch on top of the TV, and no sooner had the door closed than Draco jumped down from Ginny’s arms and turned into a loveable, naked, twenty year old boy.

Once dressed, he was told to clean Fa’s p’s perch-in-a-bucket, and grumbling, did so.

Hermiond Gid Ginny sprawled on the queen-size bed and Ginny emptied the bag out.

Draco joined them a minute later, smoking stolen cigarettes and counting the galleons, knuts and sickles. A bottle of whisky was ‘cheered’ to the urn of Dumbledore’s ashes, set on the tiny table in a place of honor.

Draco drank to him, then in the same breath suggested wild, hot, threesome sex.

For that, Ginny slapped him, Hermoine called him a randy fucker, and they turned him into cat form and tossed him into the bathroom to sleep.

His last statement of the evening bemoaned his fate before Silencio took over.

“I don’t wanna sleep with Fawkes! He snores!”

Hermione pinned Ginny against the sink and kissed her.

*****

Daylight streamed in as the door flew open.

Hermione and Ginny never saw the Aurors coming.

They were body bound, their rights were read to them,y wey were allowed to dress, but not talk - then Apparated away under armed guard, at wandpoint.
Draco went separately, being under arrest for being an unregistered Animagus and a turncoat Death Eater.

Fawkes and Dumbledore’s remains were confiscated.

The money, cigarette butts, and Hermoine’s truck became evidence.

The road to Azkaban just got a lot shorter for all three, doing it right or not.

*****

Ginny lifted her head, and Hermione stopped pacing when they heard someone stop outside their Ministry holding cell.

They saw Draco out of his, peering in the window.
He smiled at them, and did that thing with his eyebrows. Dramatic lift, then teasing drop.

“We’re getting out?” Ginny asked, standing.

Draco miaowed.

Hermione grinned at them both.


-THE END-