#180 in Fanfiction || #1 in Hermione ||
In the language of literature, there exists a seemingly-concrete, antonymous relationship between good and evil, light and dark, hero and monster. And yet, we often disregard the transition from one to anothe...
By the time August arrives, the entirety of London and the countryside are muggy and wet, occasions being dismantled nearly every day given the inopportune weather. So, the Golden Trio and previous Dark Lord are in nothing less than house arrest, days blurring into nights and the following hours. Tom cannot seem to win a game of Wizard's Chess against Ron, and Hermione will not let him Legilimens the boy just to reinstate his ego and pride. So, with Tom's irritation mounting, Hermione feeling unproductive, Ron bragging endlessly about chess, and Harry still wracked with nightmares, the home-confinement is reaching the end of its rope.
And though the feelings are overwhelming, all four know it will only worsen if they are to travel into public, the press on alert for their school and job preparations. Consequently, Hermione and Tom put their school shopping off to the last minute, hoping they can hide in the chaos of the streets in the days leading up to September 1. Ginny decides the same, the press having caught wind of her relationship with Harry and now making her life even harder to escape. And though Hermione makes an effort to look for other school supply locations, she can only find Diagon Alley to have what they need, the inevitable arising on the morning of August 27.
Wearing inconspicuous clothes--Tom being hooded even in the heat of the summer air, Ginny with her hair hidden beneath a hat, and Hermione having sunglasses that mask a good portion of her face--the three Apparate into a side passage of Diagon Alley, happy to see so many people lingering in the streets.
"You ready?" Tom asks, readjusting the hood that makes him look unprofessional and completely unfit for the public eye. Hermione does not like it in the least--his typical slacks now being jeans and button-up, now the sweatshirt. It's not characteristic of Tom to wear this, and she hates that the press makes them change their ways.
Cracking her neck, as if mounting her broom for a Quidditch game, Ginny is firm in her reciprocation, "Let's do this."
As a pack, the three dissolve into the packed crowds of wizards and witches, no one capable of telling the notable figures while their faces are pointed downward. And yet, to the extent no one can tell who they are, the trio receive strange expressions from those travelling about them, easily perceived to be hiding and consequently prompting suspicion.
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"Could you two not have used Polyjuice?" Ginny hisses, having tucked her head at the sight of a familiar Slytherin from her year, the boy having looked at her intently before she hid away in shadow.
"I've had enough of Polyjuice for a lifetime," Hermione answers, preferring to be swarmed by the press over another drink of the body-changing potion.
And Tom cannot help concurring with her, preferring his own facade over that of others, "And I'd rather not hide in fear of the press for the remainder of my life."
Not that he's fearful of them in the first place. They're simply a menace.
First with the inevitable trip to Gringotts to gather their money, the three have to reveal their identities to those in the vicinity and under the prying eyes of the goblins. These creatures look at Hermione and Tom as if they are thieves--which they kind of are--the sound of the building's reconstruction echoing about the lobby. And it's worse for Tom--although he will not squirm--as the goblins also believe he is You-Know-Who reincarnate, the man having slaughtered their kind. He hates them all.
