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Have We Met? by Quickdraw
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Have We Met?

Quickdraw

"HAVE WE MET?"

Chapter Three

"Familiar Faces"

"For Aaron stretched out his hand with his rod, and smote the

dust of the earth, and it became lice in man, and in beast;

… And the magicians did so with their enchantments to bring forth lice,

but they could not;"

Exodus 8:17-18

"Ginevra! Keep them covered!"

"Right, Mum!"

With a flick of Molly's wand, the blinds came down over the windows, ensuring that the events that were about to transpire would remain private. Another flick locked the door and flipped over the sign in the window to read "Closed".

"I-I-don't understand," Hermione sputtered. "The cards-!"

"-can be fooled," Molly said coolly, "if you know what you're doing."

"If we were going to pull something like that," Harry pointed out, "we would have come up with something a bit more believable than all that grandiose nonsense about my influencing the destiny of mankind."

"True enough, but there's only one way to be absolutely certain."

Hermione drew her wand as Molly came out from behind the counter. "Better let me handle this, Harry." With her free hand she gave his a quick squeeze for reassurance. "I've had a bit more experience in magical combat."

"Whatever you say, darling." With some bewilderment, Harry noted that Molly and Ginny were the only ones to draw wands on them. The men-folk seemed content to remain on the sidelines. All the same, Harry suspected that they wouldn't hesitate to stop anyone who tried to make a break for it. He swallowed hard. "I've got your back."

"Let me take her, Mum!" Ginny said as the women faced off from opposite sides of the room. "She doesn't look so tough."

"Have you ever taken a life, little girl?" Hermione said in an icy tone that sent shivers down Harry's spine. "We came here as friends, but if you're determined to pick a fight with me, be warned. In the world I come from, I fought against a dark wizard and his minions who murdered with no more thought than a man stepping on an anthill. I'm far too well acquainted with death to be cowed by a couple of amateurs."

"Brave talk, little poppet," Molly shot back, "but can you back it up? Disarmius!"

"Protego!" With a quick flick of her wand, Hermione easily deflected the spell.

"Cumulo-Nimbus!" Molly cried out. A thick black cloud encircled Hermione until she could no longer see anything around her.

"Aurora!" A rainbow burst forth from the heart of the cloud and shone across the entire length of the room as the cloud evaporated.

"Carolus equus!"

Hermione could feel the muscles in her legs begin to cramp and quickly used the counterspell on herself. "Linimenta!" She then aimed her wand at Ginny. "Emetico!" and the girl began retching uncontrollably.

"Good Heavens! Pepto Bismo!" Ginny's symptoms immediately subsided.

"Galvanus!" An immense white-hot bolt of lightning shot from Molly's wand directly toward Hermione's chest.

"Insulatus!" The electricity dissipated harmlessly around her.

"Arachnia!"

"Spiders!" Ron shrieked as an army of arachnids swarmed out of the cracks in the walls. He clambered onto the nearest table.

"Vexillum nigrans!" Molly called out and the eight-legged invaders vanished.

Hermione cast a Banishing charm on the kitchen supplies. Bottles of ketchup, mustard, Worcestershire sauce and malt vinegar leapt from their tables and made a beeline for Molly, who fought valiantly to deflect them. Despite the combined efforts of both Weasley women, they still ended up covered from head to toe in sauces.

The hexes flew ever faster, but soon it became clear that Molly and Ginny were in over their heads. Before long, they were totally overwhelmed, unable even to speak the counter curses before Hermione hit them with the next spell. The Weasley men watched helplessly as their sister and their mother collapsed to the floor and curled up into fetal position with their hands covering their ears.

"All right! That's enough! You've made your point!" Ron was almost begging. "You win!"

A look of horror spread over Hermione's face and her wand arm dropped limply to her side. An eerie silence settled over the room and no one dared to move until a rapping was heard on the outer door.

"Hello?" said a man's voice. "Is anyone there? Surely it's too early to close!"

"A customer!" Ron gasped. "What do we do?"

"Finite Incantatem!" Hermione said. All the pains, spasms, eruptions, malformations and visions she had inflicted on her opponents vanished as quickly as they had appeared. The bottles and jars refilled and replaced themselves, the damage to the furniture miraculously repaired itself and all the walls and floors were now sparkling clean As one, the Weasley men rushed to aid their mother and sister, giving Hermione a wide berth and more than a few cold stares. For her part, Hermione seemed to be in shock at what she had done. Harry quickly moved to comfort her, all the while calculating the quickest escape route in case her little display had turned their new friends against them.

"You have nothing to feel guilty about, darling," Harry reminded her. "They were the ones who wanted a fight."

Molly shook off her children's assistance and dragged herself to her feet, her expression one of genuine awe. She looked at Harry and Hermione and nodded in the direction of the counter. "Sit down." She then limped over to the door and unlocked it.

Harry briefly considered simply making a break for it, but Hermione was clearly worn out from the battle and Harry didn't trust his own novice magical skills enough to pit them against those of the entire Weasley clan. Trusting that another opportunity would present itself, Harry led Hermione over to the counter and helped her onto a stool.

Everyone fell silent as the shop bell rang and a man and woman entered the café.

Tall, loose-limbed and gangly, the man cut quite a curious figure: his hands stuffed into his pockets; his head slouched forward when he walked, as though led by his large, beak-like proboscis. He was dressed in a long red velvet coat, a tartan waistcoat, baggy brown trousers, buccaneer boots and a ridiculously long multicolored scarf, which wound around his neck like a hand-knitted boa constrictor. A floppy, wide-brimmed soft felt hat was crushed onto an explosion of brown curls.

The young woman with him was much shorter, barely coming up to his shoulders. She looked to be about eighteen or nineteen, with the lean sinewy body of a dancer or a gymnast. Her clothes, a simple low-cut sleeveless tunic with a very short skirt (or maybe it was a loincloth) and boots, were stitched together out of tanned animal skins. In combination with her own deeply tanned skin, her shoulder-length dark brown hair and her dark eyes, the effect was that of a watercolor painted only in earth tones.

She wore no make up. Her face was rather plain, (though not unattractive, as Harry and the Weasley men would attest) yet there was something disconcerting about her eyes, the way they continually darted back and forth like an animal's, perpetually on the watch for predators. No, she is the predator, Hermione corrected herself. The feral girl's right hand kept traveling to an empty leather sheath hanging from her belt. It contained no knife at the moment-and the girl didn't seem the least bit happy about it.

The tall man grabbed the floppy hat from his head and hung it on a hook by the door, keeping his coat and his ridiculous scarf. He and his companion settled into a table near the window. Molly nodded to Ginny, who reluctantly took out her order pad. "May I help you?"

The tall man nodded toward his companion. "You don't have any raw meat, by any chance?" he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Doctor!" the girl said, slightly offended. "I'm not a savage, you know!" She turned to Ginny. "We would like two orders of fish and chips and a small pot of tea, please." The way she said it suggested that the girl had been practicing for ages for this particular moment. She looked over at the man she called "Doctor" for his approval. He smiled indulgently like a proud father.

"Two orders of fish and chips and a small pot of tea," Ginny repeated as she scribbled down their order. "What about for afters? Strawberry tart? Apple pie? Ice cream?"

"Perhaps later," said the Doctor. "Just make the tea medium sweet, no lemon."

In spite of, or perhaps, because of their intense interest in their odd new female customer, one by one the Weasley men were banished to the kitchen and ordered back to work.

"This might be a good time to leave," Harry whispered to Hermione. "We might not get another chance."

"No," Hermione insisted. "We have to find out where we stand with these people. It could affect our entire future here." The determined look in her eyes convinced Harry that it was pointless to argue. Despite the fact that they were a bit overdressed for the part, they decided that the best thing to do was to pretend that they were regular customers. Harry ordered the corned beef hash while Hermione opted for the lentil soup. Molly and Ginny's expressions were unreadable as they served them their meals. Were they now dining with friends or enemies? For a long time everyone ate in silence, occasionally stealing curious glances at each other.

An attractive, sincere young woman in her early twenties called out a cheerful "Evening, Mrs. Lupin!" as she entered the shop. She was dressed in jeans, sandals and a peasant blouse and carried a large canvas tote bag over her shoulder on which was printed Animals are people too! "Is Percy in?"

"He's in the back, Penelope dear." Molly looked from Penelope over to the young woman in the odd leather togs and cringed. "Go on through if you like," she said, forcing herself to smile.

Penelope Clearwater and Percy Weasley, Hermione mused. I see that Harry and I aren't the only case of true love traveling across the universes.

"Can't stop, I'm afraid." Penelope hoisted the heavy tote bag she was carrying onto the bar with a satisfying thump. "I've got to deliver these new animal rights leaflets to-"

The color drained from Molly's face as Penelope stalked across the room.

"Excuse me, Miss? Do you have any idea how many animals had to die in order to make the clothes that you're wearing?"

"Of course I do." The feral girl cocked her head as if the question were totally absurd. "I killed them myself." She lifted up a section of her skirt. "This was from a deer that I brought down with a single arrow through the heart. Of course, the difficult bit was the skinning."

Harry and Hermione couldn't quite make out everything that was being said, but Penelope's face had developed a decidedly unhealthy pallor. Looking as if she were about to lose her lunch, Penelope fled the café.

Flashing a grin that would have been the envy of Alice's Cheshire cat, the Doctor carried Penelope's tote bag to the counter and said, "Excuse me. I'm afraid the young lady left this behind." Hermione was amazed that so many teeth could fit into a single mouth, yet the effect was neither grotesque nor unpleasant.

"We'll see that she gets it," said Molly with some mortification. "I'm terribly sorry if Penelope embarrassed your friend. She's a sweet girl, really-if a bit high-strung."

"Think nothing of it. To be fair, my young friend's interpersonal skills could use a bit of polishing, as well." The Doctor paused and looked directly at Harry, tilting his head as if he were puzzled by something. "By any chance, did you ever have a scar on your forehead-shape of a lightning bolt?"

Harry and Hermione were almost too astonished to answer. "No. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, really. Perhaps I'm thinking of someone else." He returned to his table.

"Did I say something wrong, Doctor?" the girl asked sheepishly. "I was polite and answered the lady's question."

"You simply said things that she wasn't prepared to hear. It's not quite the same thing."

Molly settled in behind the counter and began polishing the water glasses. Hermione started to speak, but the shop bell rang once again and Molly motioned for her to remain silent.

A young towheaded man with a lean pointed face and cold gray eyes swaggered into the shop flanked by a heavy-set boy and another with dull, deep-set eyes.

Hermione shook her head. Next to Voldemort's, this was the one face she wasn't looking forward to seeing in this new world.

Ginny's eyes lit up. "Draco!"

"A new face!" Malfoy strode over to Hermione. "About time we got some new blood around this dump."

"Speaking of blood," Ron growled, "isn't it about time you crawled back into your coffin, Dennis?"

"Ron!" Ginny smacked her brother across the back of the head with her dishtowel. "He prefers to be called `Draco'."

"It's all right, Gin," Malfoy said calmly. "You don't need to defend me to these peasants."

Ignoring her family's cold stares, Ginny proudly presented the young man to her new friends. "Harry, Hermione, this is Draco Malfoy."

Much to Harry's displeasure, Young Malfoy took Hermione's hand and brought it up to his lips. "Enchanted, Mademoiselle."

Hermione kept reminding herself that this Draco need not turn out to be an enemy here, but his arrogant manner (and the clammy kiss), suggested that this Draco Malfoy was going to be just as insufferable as his counterpart.

"Draco's father is a very important man with the Ministry of Sanitation," Ginny announced proudly. The revelation seemed of far greater significance to her than it did to Draco.

"How is the `Duke of Dustbins', by the way?" came Fred's voice from the kitchen doorway.

"I hear his business is `picking up'," George added.

"Droll, very droll." Malfoy forced a smile as he sipped the bottled water Ginny had brought him. "Go ahead. Have your fun. Relish the moment. I wonder if you'll still be laughing when the Health and Safety Certificates for this fire trap come up for renewal."

"Don't you dare threaten us, Dennis Malfoy!" Molly's hand reached into the pocket of her apron. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her wand. "I was the midwife who smacked your little bottom on the day you were born! Don't think for one moment that I'd hesitate to slap your smug little face-!"

"Just you wait," Malfoy snarled. "When my father is a Member of Parliament--!"

The shop bell rang once more.

"Now what?" Harry groused.

"What can I get you, dear-?" A look of recognition spread across Molly's face. "Marcus?"

"I'm really sorry, Molly." The young man appeared very agitated. His skin was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. His face was beaded with perspiration. His clothes were torn and ragged and looked as if they hadn't been washed in weeks. One hand never left the pocket of his dirty camouflage jacket. "Nobody try anything funny. Just give me all the money in the till and nobody gets hurt!"

Hermione's hand edged to her purse where she kept her wand.

Harry and the Doctor both looked at each other, each wondering what the other was going to do. Malfoy and his companions seemed to be doing their best to blend into the woodwork.

"He is a thief, isn't he, Doctor?" Leela bared her teeth in the smile of a hunting leopard coming upon a lone gazelle.

"What?" The young man pointed his jacket at her.

"You are a thief," she repeated as she slowly rose to her feet. "You wish to steal money from this nice old woman who was kind enough to prepare this meal for us."

Molly was about to object to the word "old" when Hermione held up a hand.

"That's right." The young hoodlum trembled, out of nervousness or fear. "I'll shoot anyone who tries to be a hero."

The girl looked over at the Doctor as if to ask permission for what she was about to do.

"Remember, Leela," the Doctor said calmly, "he is a thief, not a warrior-and he's not well by the look of him."

"I will not do any permanent damage, Doctor," the girl assured him.

"What's she goin' on about?" the young man asked.

Across the street, opposite the Griffin's Door, the window of a silver 1964 Aston Martin DB5 rolled down. The driver drew his Walther PPK from its holster and carefully took aim at the would-be thief. He was risking discovery, but if this Harry Potter character and his girlfriend were as important as he had been briefed, it was a safe bet that Whitehall would prefer that they remain alive.

His finger tightened around the trigger.

Leela suddenly sprang like a panther, knocking the interloper to the ground. The young man quickly scampered into the nearest corner, cowering in terror as she clawed at him like an animal. His hand came out of his pocket, exposing to all that he had been bluffing about having a gun.

"Keep her away from me!" he whimpered. "She's crazy!"

"LEELA!" Like a well-trained attack dog, at the Doctor's command, Leela ceased her onslaught. As Molly reluctantly phoned the police, Hermione and the Doctor checked the would-be thief for weapons and injuries. The many needle tracks on his arm told them all they needed to know.

"That was very brave, but very dangerous," Hermione said to Leela. "He could just as easily have had a real gun."

"I would have smelled the oil and the gunpowder," Leela said dismissively. "Apart from alcohol and urine, the only thing I could smell from this pathetic creature was his fear." She gave him a kick in the side to show her disgust.

"Have a bit of compassion, my dear," Molly said as she brought the young man a bowl of soup.

"I'm sorry, Molly," the young man sobbed. "I needed the money."

"I know, luv," she whispered soothingly. "Most of Marcus's troubles are of his own making," she said to Leela, "and I know he needs to be punished for what he's done, but he's not had an easy time of it. Call me an old softie, but in my heart I can't help hoping that given half a chance he might still be able to turn things around. Perhaps this time the authorities will finally find room for him in a drug treatment program."

To Hermione, this odd display of compassion only added to her confusion with regard to the Weasleys' intentions.

The Aston Martin's driver relaxed his trigger finger, slowly let out the breath he was holding and replaced the Walther in its holster. The strange girl in the leather togs had spared him the wrath of his superiors, but she had no idea how close to death she herself had come. Another man would have been startled by her unexpected attack and pulled the trigger anyway.

Once they arrived, the police seemed anxious to get a statement out of the strange man with the floppy hat and the long scarf and his companion, but by then they had both disappeared.

"Malfoy's gone too!" Ron noted. "Stinking little coward."

"I didn't see you exactly jumping into harm's way either, big brother," Ginny sneered.

"I was just waiting for the right moment," Ron said defensively.

"And was that moment going to be before or after the police arrived?"

"`Droll, very droll'," Ron drawled in his best Draco Malfoy impression.

It was nearly midnight by the time the last of the customers departed and Molly was finally able to close the café for the night. The kitchen was cluttered, but comfortable, filled with the equipment of a working restaurant mixed with the paraphernalia of magic.

"I don't understand," Harry said. "First you're nice, then you try to kill us, then-"

"I'm sorry to put you through that, luvs," Molly said, "but I had to be certain that you were telling the truth. We've been fooled before."

"By whom?"

"Never you mind that now." They sat down around the tiny kitchen table. "I possess magical knowledge passed down from mother to daughter for centuries, but your skills are far more advanced than those of any witch I've ever seen. I doubt if there's anything that I could teach you. What exactly do you want from us?"

"Companionship, I suppose," Hermione said as she took Harry's hand. "No one wants to feel alone."

"The cards were right. You two really are all alone in the world, aren't you?" Molly was now in full "mother" mode. She slid a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Poor lost lambs… Well, don't you worry. You're definitely among friends here." She leaned over and called loudly through the doorway. "Ginny!"

The youngest Weasley stuck her head through the door.

"What is it, Mum?"

"I bet these two could stand a cup of tea. Merlin knows I could use one!"

"Right."

By the time the kettle whistled for attention, the rest of the Weasley children had assembled in the kitchen.

"So, you're searching for other witches and wizards like yourselves?" Ron asked. "That's part of it, anyway," said Hermione. "The rest of the story is a little complicated."

Between the two of them, Harry and Hermione did their best to explain in simple terms the concept of parallel universes. It took some doing, but eventually their new friends seemed to grasp the idea that Hermione had come from another dimension-another world where there were people who looked just like the people here, but who had often led very different lives.

"You mean, there was another Weasley family in your world?" Ginny seemed fascinated by the idea. "Another Ginny Weasley? Another me?"

"There was." Hermione quickly changed the subject, hoping that this Ginny Weasley wouldn't become too curious about the terrible fate of her counterpart. "Where I come from, there was an entire magical civilization which existed side-by-side with the Muggle world-that is to say, with those who could do no magic." Hermione summoned Molly's Tarot cards and waved her wand over them. She turned the first card over to reveal a picture of witches and wizards bustling through the streets of Diagon Alley. "Now it's gone."

After briefly summarizing the conflict with Lord Voldemort, Hermione then turned over more cards, revealing various views inside and outside of Hogwarts itself. The more Hermione described the place, the more excited Molly became.

"A school for young witches and wizards! If only I'd had something like that-as much for my children as for me!"

"You can have precisely that," Hermione said, "if you help us."

Molly looked around at each of her children, seeking their consent. Each in turn, nodded their approval.

"If you'll share your magical knowledge with us," Molly said, "we'll gladly help you build your school." She extended her hand. "Deal?"

"Deal."

END OF CHAPTER THREE

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