The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy

Chapter 13: The Wandmaker and the Thief

Draco spent most of the remainder of September in bed. Hermione changed his bandages at first three times a day, then twice, then weaned him off the Numbing Solution. Even when it became clear that he was well enough to change his own bandages, she found herself continuing to come in and do it herself.

She supposed it had something to do with the atmosphere around the cottage and the tent. She'd hoped that Ron would become accustomed to the idea of staying friends, and that as he did so he would regain his warmth and humor, but he seemed to be sinking in on himself instead, growing more and more dejected. One day he would be able to look at her and speak a few stilted sentences. The next, his eyes would be reddened, and he would be quiet throughout their attempted planning sessions. Harry, chronically non-confrontational about these things as he was, proved no help whatsoever. And so Hermione found herself in the topsy-turvy world of dreading meals with her two best friends, but feeling almost eager for the hour or so a day she spent with Draco Malfoy.

Draco could be annoying, as she'd known for the majority of her sentient life at this point. He could be juvenile and overdramatic. But his recovery seemed to confirm that the juvenility and dramatics were mostly done for comedic effect, rather than being actual tenets of his personality. It was a kind of character he put on. Hermione had started combing through the Potters' library to find texts about Durmstrang and Grindelwald for Draco to read while he was in bed, hoping to find traces of the triangular mark, and though he would sigh and roll his eyes and complain loudly about all that he did for them without so much as a thank-you, he did actually read the books. Whenever she came in, he'd be paging through them, marking them with slips of parchment when he found something of potential use.

"This one says, '... the very halls of Durmstrang still bear traces of the infamous Dark wizard who once walked the school,'" he said one day, sounding disgusted. "So, that's got to be referring to the mark. But they move right on. Don't actually say anything useful about it." He chucked A Modern History of Wizarding Scandinavia to the end of the bed.

Hermione sighed, turning through International Wizarding Schools and Assorted Curricula in her usual spot in the window seat. "That's the problem with a lot of these Wizarding historians of the early 20th century," she remarked. "They seem to think some details are only there to add flavor to their descriptions, rather than being intrinsically meaningful."

"Not to mention," Draco muttered, "they're all so terrified by the idea of being seen as sympathetic to Dark wizards, they won't even touch the topic." He scoffed. "It's like they think writing about Dark spells is the same thing as getting the bloody Dark Mark."

Hermione didn't reply for a moment. She turned her page, though she hadn't finished reading the previous one. She'd never heard Draco make that kind of offhand reference to Voldemort or the Death Eaters.

"Speaking of which," she said tentatively, "I've been meaning to ask. Erm. That Protean Charm he put on... on the Death Eaters. I know it can't allow him to trace everyone who's got the Mark, or summon them forcibly, or Karkaroff wouldn't have been able to run. But if he were to try to summon you, he couldn't tell that you're still alive, could he?"

Draco was still looking down at his book, but she could tell he'd stopped reading. He took a moment to answer, and when he did, it was in a forced-casual tone that didn't convince her. "It's not that different from the usual Protean Charm, Granger. When he touches his own Mark, he changes the Mark on whichever of our bodies he'd like. It doesn't actually matter whether that body's alive or dead." He paused, then, more stiffly than ever, added, "We're just objects to him."

Hermione hesitated. "But that still means that the Charm would break eventually, when the body decay intrudes upon the Charmed area."

Draco hesitated. Then he looked up from his book. "Yeah," he said. "That's... yeah."