Chapter Eight
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Once back on the road, Hermione pulled into the first Muggle hotel she saw. As they checked into their room, she threw down the keys and sat on the bed. "Could we order a bottle of wine?" she asked and Harry raised an eyebrow.
"I don't think that would be a good idea," he hesitated and Hermione flopped the rest of her body down. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.
Hermione stared up at the ceiling and watched the fan spin. She knew she wasn't really OK, but she didn't want to discuss it with Harry. She was used to being ignored in the Wizarding World and she was finding it a bit overwhelming to be out in the Muggle world, where everyone saw her and listened to her…and talked back. Dumbledore had talked to her about the possibility of this becoming an issue, but she had told him that it was nothing. Yet again it seemed that Dumbledore was right.
"Order a bottle," she said and Harry did.
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"Well, here's your bottle," Harry said and put it down on the nightstand. "I'm going to go and unpack."
Hermione nodded and opened the mini-bar. It was stacked with small bottles. Harry looked at her, she was sitting on the floor leaning against the bed and she looked very sad. He had never seen her sad before and the look on her face was breaking his heart.
Great, he thought, the last thing I need to feel is sorry for her. I already feel enough. Harry sat down on the bed watching her.
"Is it so wrong?" Hermione asked, turning around and placing her hand on Harry's knee. Without thinking he melted off the bed down to the floor next to her.
"Is what wrong?" he asked, his voice so strained that it almost broke.
"Dumbledore told us to stop, to rest. He said it was important that we did. What is wrong with us just staying here and…" she hesitated before she spoke, "just catching our breath?"
"Nothing, Hermione." She looked up with a spark in her eye.
"Really?" you won't hold it against me?" Harry laughed.
"We already decided not to keep secrets; can't we just be honest about everything?" Harry was never this honest. But it was such a relief to be on such an important mission with someone he didn't know. Whatever he said, she had nothing to compare him with. Hermione smiled and leaned her head on Harry's shoulder.
"Thank you!" she said and pulled back again so fast he hardly had time to register. "So how about some wine?" she giggled and Harry laughed.
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An hour later Harry came out of Hermione's bathroom with a pair of sweats on. "I made you a drink," Hermione nodded towards the table. Indeed she had made them both a drink, neither had been tasted.
"What is it?" he asked suspiciously.
"It is a..." she hesitated and opened the drink guide the mini-bar had provided, "…Cuba Libre," she said.
"I'll drink to that," Harry said and took a sip before speaking again. "I have good news, Hermione." She looked up, curiosity straining her eyes. "We have hot water," he added and she laughed.
"In that case, I'll be back," she said. She downed the rest of her drink and headed towards the bathroom.
"Would you like another drink?" Harry asked as she left.
"Surprise me!" she called over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner. Harry frowned and began flipping through the bartending book in search for something he thought Hermione would enjoy.
Hermione returned, fully dressed in her My Little Pony pajamas. Harry started laughing. "It's a Muggle thing," she said, waving it away.
"I know what it is," he said and smiled even brighter. Hermione had just started drying her hair with her towel but stopped immediately.
"You do?" she asked in a strange voice.
"Yes," he answered honestly. Hermione sat down on the bed and stared at him a moment before grabbing her drink.
"Look, I know you think I am acting strange, Harry," she said and gave him just a moment before continuing. "It's just that being here, acting like a Muggle…" she hesitated. "Whenever I wear this shirt in the Wizarding World, people ask about it. It's strange when someone actually knows, though. Do you know what I mean, Harry?"
"No, not really," he said in a hushed voice. She smiled.
"Harry, I've read your file. What if someone told you that Godric's Hollow was their favorite holiday spot?"
Harry gave her a fierce look. The mention of Godric's Hollow filled him with anger and he almost felt the impulse to slap Hermione. He opened his mouth to say something when she forcefully grabbed his wrist
"Exactly," she said and he looked down at her. She was sitting on the bed, holding her drink and looking up at him. Harry slowly sat back down. Hermione didn't wait for his response before she continued, "It's like everything in this world is connected to my parents, to me, and every mention of it makes me feel like someone is trespassing on holy ground."
Harry looked into her eyes; he knew exactly what she was feeling. Hermione had lived in the Muggle world for so long, so many things must be painful for her. As he looked around the hotel room, he understood.
"I understand," he said and took her hand.
"Thank you," she said and their fingers intertwined. Hermione was surprised by how natural it felt…how natural their response to each other was. It was as if they had done this for years. She looked down at their hands, at Harry's hand, and couldn't help but feel her attraction to Harry increase. He had very masculine hands. She turned pink at the thought of what he could do with those hands…
"Drinks," she mumbled, pulling her hand away and taking a sip from her glass. "This is good," she
said, and smiled up at Harry.
"Well, don't give me any credit," he laughed, missing the feel of her small hand in his. "It's a champagne cocktail. The porter told me how to make it."
A while later, Hermione fell asleep. Harry wandered around the room for a moment, turning off lights and making sure she was comfortable before heading to his own room.
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Harry sat in the window of the hotel and watched the street outside. It was morning, but the sun hadn't risen, and the street outside was very quiet. His room was dead silent; he didn't want TV, radio, or anything to disturb his concentration. The lack of sleep didn't bother him at all, he was used to it. Besides, in the morning they were scheduled to take a train straight across France, over to Germany, and arrive in Prague. It would be a perfect time for him to rest.
His eyes focused on something just arriving on the street. Two dogs began walking together, which might not have aroused suspicion to anyone else, but Harry had been looking out for signs of trouble. He watched as one of the dogs sat down at the end of the street while the other continued to the opposite side. It seemed to Harry that they were guarding the street. He grabbed his duffle bag quickly and peeked out the corridor, it was empty. He inserted the keycard into Hermione's door and let himself in. She was sleeping soundly on the bed. He looked around quickly, her bag was already packed. Smart girl, he thought. He threw it over his shoulder and hurried over to the bed.
"Hermione," he whispered and she immediately opened her eyes. She looked confused for just a fraction of a second before she threw her legs over the side of the beg. She jumped into her jeans quickly without speaking.
"How do we get out?" she whispered as Harry pressed his ear against the door.
"There is a backdoor in the kitchen; it connects onto a loading dock. We go that way and then we run.
"Are you sure?" she asked, surprised by his knowledge of the hotel's layout. He nodded, he had taken the
time to locate every exit in the hotel right after they arrived.
Harry went still for a moment, before grabbing Hermione's arm. When she whimpered, he threw his other hand over her mouth. "Someone is outside!" he hissed into her ear.
They both put their ears against the door to listen more closely to the footsteps in the hall. Hermione mouthed to Harry to cast a spell, but he shook his head. "If I do, they'll know we know they're here and we have no idea how many they are." He took her hand and ran over to the window. They were five stories up and Harry wished he'd thought to bring a broom.
Hermione's heart raced and her mind spun in circles, trying desperately to think of an exit. "There's no other choice," she whispered. "We'll have to use the window. We'll just climb up, rather than down. We'll think of something else once we're on the roof." Harry stared at her a moment as he tried to come up with an alternative. Giving up, he nodded. There wasn't enough time for prolonged planning.
He carefully opened the window and the hot summer breeze welcomed them. He got up on the window ledge and looked at Hermione, handing her his hand to help her up.
"Are you all right?" he hissed, she looked ghostly white.
"Heights," her voice trembled.
"Can you do this?" She rolled her eyes.
"Please!" she hissed offended and stepped up on the ledge. They heard a sound and both of them turned towards the door. Someone was carefully feeling the handle of the door.
"Hurry," Harry said and Hermione grabbed the drainpipe.
"Will it hold?" she whispered uncertain to Harry who nodded. She swung her herself outside and her stomach turned angrily as she looked down. She tried to tell herself that she was not hanging onto the side of a building, she was not five stories up, she was not about to fall to her death.
"Go," Harry urged and pushed prodded at her thighs.
"Now is not the time to get fresh," she whispered and started climbing. Harry rolled his eyes and hurried after her once he'd made sure the window had been closed. Whoever was after them would check the window in time and realize they had escaped that way, but they needed to buy all the time they could. He looked at the dogs, they were rooted to the spot but as far as he guessed they hadn't seen them. Thank God for small favors, he thought. The house was dark brown, and in the dark night they were hidden.
Harry caught up with Hermione. "Why have you stopped?" he whispered she pointed to the open window next to her. He nodded at her and she carefully moved over to the window ledge. She turned and reached her hand out to Harry but he just urged her to enter the room.
He followed her inside. The room was dark and Harry could hear a man snoring. Hermione started for the door, but Harry grabbed her arm again, looking out the window.
"The dogs are gone," he whispered.
"What dogs, what does that mean?" she asked.
"They know!" Harry looked around hurriedly and found a lighter and a pack of cigarettes on the dresser. He
grabbed the lighter and held it up to the fire detector.
"Good idea!" Hermione exclaimed and felt a small slimmer of hope. It didn't take long before the fire alarm roared inhumanely loud. Hermione covered her ears as she and Harry ran for the bathroom. They heard a number of profanities from the man in the bed and they waited for the sound of the door opening before hurrying after him. The corridors were filled with people.
"Keep down," Harry whispered and Hermione made herself as small as possible. Once they had made their way outside, Harry took Hermione's hand and ran down a side alley.
"Are they following?" Harry asked looking a head for a place to hide.
"No!" she yelled, glancing behind her.
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"Harry I have to stop," Hermione gasped and Harry turned and looked at her. She was right, she had to stop. She looked like she would be sick. Thinking about it, Harry could also feel the iron taste of blood in his mouth. Hermione clutched at her side.
"Yeah, I think we've run far enough. But we need to hide somewhere for a few hours." They rested a moment and then began walking hurriedly along; it was all they could really manage at this point, having run at least three kilometers in such haste.
"There!" Harry pointed to a bridge. "We'll hide underneath it." They crawled under the small bridge and huddled closely together. It looked as if it were a normal place for teenagers to hide, beer bottles spread all over.
"Ew," Hermione murmured as she stepped over a condom on the ground. They sat down on the ground. No one could ever find them there. Hermione trembled slightly and suddenly realized she was still wet from the sprinkler. Harry opened the duffle bag and handed her a dry shirt.
"Change before you catch a cold," he said and she took it gratefully. She nodded at him, gesturing with her
head.
"What?" he asked preoccupied.
"Am I going to change in front of you?" she asked sarcastically.
"Hopefully," he teased and then turned around.
"How did they find us?" Hermione asked and looked up, a car was thundering over their heads. Harry had been wondering the same thing.
"Maybe they had Cho's house under surveillance."
Hermione shook her head. She had also considered that an option. "So many fugitives go through her house, they
would have gotten caught!"
"Maybe they were waiting for something big, or maybe they just found her. Or…" Harry looked down at his feet.
"What?" she asked and tilted her head.
"Maybe we've been betrayed," Harry said so quietly that she hardly heard him. It sent shivers down her spine; a traitor meant that not only their lives were in danger. It meant all the people in the camp were in danger.
"What do we do now?" Hermione finally spoke.
"We try to get to Krum without being seen. We should try to get as far as possible tomorrow before we stop. There's no time for rest."
Harry thought briefly about his lack of sleep and wondered if it would be a problem, he pushed the thought away.
He could manage it, he had been through worse.
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