Tango * dramione

Chapter 36

"I think there will be more smiles when the smoke clears."
~Shaun Alexander

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Chapter 36: When The Smoke Clears

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Center Stage: The crew
Setting: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes

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The orange glow of the flames flickered like candlelight, basking the streets of Diagon Alley in its hues. As a narrator, I find it prudent to note that the building on fire that fateful evening was not Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, thank the gods. It actually was Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour lit up like an autumn bonfire just north of WWW. So now that your minds are at ease, I also find it imperative to remind you that this night was not in Draco or Hermione's favor.

Since a fire had broken out, the buildings left and right of the ice cream shop, including Hermione's favorite second hand bookshop, unfortunately were privy to the fire's unwanted advances. By the time the Auror department from the Ministry had arrived, there was little to be done in salvaging the buildings; they could only rescue and cast aguiamenti charms on the building's remains.

Flakes of ash rained down on the cobblestone steps at Draco's feet, dirtying his dragonhide shoes. Those bystanders that hadn't already fled or been floo'd to St. Mungo's were standing on the sidewalk, watching and crying and gaping like fools.

"Blimey," said George, standing next to him with his hands shoved into his pockets. "It's brighter than when Fred and I lit ol' Umbridge up at Hogwarts."

"It's not...fiendfyre, is it?" squeaked Ron.

"Of course not, Ronald," said Hermione. "They're putting it out with water - does that sound like fiendfyre to you?"

"No, 'suppose not..."

"Should we help?" asked Astoria, looking to the others.

"We'd only be in their way," said Blaise, who had showed up only an hour before. "Look's like Potter's got it." He hugged Daphne around the waist, drawing her closer to him.

From a ways off, Harry Potter could be seen holding back the press - it's what the Auror Department did best with him lately, throwing him to the wolves because of his fame. He was trying to navigate through their bombardment of questions as he stalled them, waiting for the Minister to arrive.

Draco knew he should say something - anything - but the words wouldn't come. No matter how hard he tried to open his mouth to speak, his thoughts fell short on his lips. How could he articulate the deep amount of shit they were all now in thanks to the damned fire forcing everyone's attention away from their opening night? Sure, sure, the people were a priority, but really, the whole thing was a major inconvenience.

"There's Kingsley," said Hermione, nudging him in the ribs and pointing as the swarm of press distilled away from Harry. Potter, his shoulders slumping in relief, jogged his way down the sidewalk until he made it to the group.

"Is everyone alright?" he asked.

"No one's injured, if that's what you mean," said Blaise. "But we're the furthest from alright."

"Potter!" another Auror called out. "Take this'n with ya' for questionin'! She was workin' in the shop whennit happened!"

Covered in soot from head to toe, the tips of her curls singed, was none other than their former classmate, Lavender Brown. Draco didn't wonder why someone like Brown worked in an ice cream shop - werewolves were hardly given respect. Remedial jobs were what she had to look forward to after Hogwarts, and the stress showed on her aged face. Of course, Draco had never found her pretty to begin with, but he could tell life had taken a toll on Brown, who wore thick claw scars down her cheek and teeth marks against her throat.