𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄

Part 9

1.

It is lunch one day when Harry finds Hermione leaning against the corner of his desk, chewing a quill. He looks up at her and she tucks the quill into her hair. “Harry, I need to speak with you.”

“All right,” he says.

“In private.”

“All right,” he repeats.

“Not anywhere near here.” Hermione names a restaurant in Muggle London not far from the Ministry, one whose name Harry will forget in a couple weeks, but always will remember the smell of fried chicken and curry as he passes by it on the way to work each morning.

“All right,” he says. “I’m on lunch in ten.”

They meet in the restaurant. Harry orders the lunch special, but Hermione picks at a bag lunch she brings with her. The restaurant is small and cramped, but Harry sits close enough to Hermione to be able to hear her over the other patrons.

“Everything all right?” he asks.

Hermione frowns, chewing her bottom lip. She smiles at Harry and sighs. “I had a Floo call from Malfoy the other day on my day off.”

“From Malfoy?” Harry asks. He sets his fork down. “Why would Malfoy call you?”

“Harry-” Hermione reaches across the table and grabs Harry’s hand, squeezing it hard. “Promise me you won’t tell him I told you this.”

“All right,” he says.

“He made me promise not to tell you,” she adds.

Harry nods. “Okay.” His lunch is steaming away, growing colder by the minute.

“He asked me to- to do something for him. To pick up a potion. The Artemisia Flush,” she says.

Harry furrows his brow. “Er…all right. So he needed a potion, maybe…I was working late that night or something.”

“Harry, the Artemisia Flush contains wormwood, pennyroyal and goldenseal. Doesn’t any of that sound familiar from NEWT level potions?”

He is starting to feel as though he is back in school. “Er…not really,” he says. He takes a bite of his curry and Hermione starts to speak again.

“Those are all natural abortificants, Harry.” She smiles weakly at him. “I’m sorry. I thought you should know. I didn’t- I didn’t give Malfoy the potions yet, but,” she reaches inside her purse and pulls out a small paper bag, handing it to him. “If you need it. If Malfoy needs it. I just thought you should know about this.”

2.

The early September wind filters crisp and clean through Harry’s hair as he walks up the steps, home. He opens the door and sees a flash of blonde rush his way and a grinning girl clinging to his knee, followed by a toddling boy with dark hair.

“Where’s Daddy?” he asks.

Pyrrha says she doesn’t know just as Harry hears noises upstairs. He tells her to go off and play with her brother as he ascends the stairs slowly, slogging each foot up each step. He sees Malfoy come out of the bathroom, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry’s insides shrivel that much more when the faintest smell of vomit reaches his nose.