Time and Tide

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

They flew a circuitous route to London. The morning had dawned cold and gray, and they'd lifted off in a steady drizzle. Around noon, they'd been forced to bypass a storm, abandoning their intended course after a strong gust nearly tore Hermione from her broom.

Much later than expected, the city's skyscrapers appeared through the twilight mist. It was like something from a science fiction novel: tall towers of gray, sparkling with the faint lights of civilization, with all its attendant promise and threat. Hermione was experienced enough with cities to know that they'd find both. Which they found first would largely be a matter of luck.

Draco fell into position behind her, allowing her to take point. She'd been to 12 Grimmauld Place more times than she could count but had never approached by air. Landmarks became crucial: the London Zoo, Hampstead Heath just north, and then a slight eastward turn to Highgate Cemetery.

They dropped in behind a mausoleum overgrown with creeping ivory. They stowed their brooms in their bags and crept out onto one of the cemetery's many serpentine paths. Hermione drew her hood and shoved her hands into her coat pockets. A sideways look confirmed that Draco had done the same.

"We'll need something to get you in," she muttered. "Something to prove your loyalty."

"Showing up with you isn't enough?"

She didn't need to look at him to see his scowl.

"No. They'll probably think you've Imperiused me."

"Like you could be so easily controlled," he muttered, incredulous.

Hermione missed a step. The compliment—though somewhat backhanded—surprised her.

"We'll need to verify our identities," she said, choosing to ignore it. "I have my sealskin."

A beat of loaded silence passed. "My parents' wands. Will they accept those?"

Hermione's throat tightened. "Yes, I believe they will."

They passed beneath the arched entrance to Highgate, the gloom lifting infinitesimally. Hermione turned them south.

"You'll be searched," she said, "and our bags emptied. You'll undergo Legilimency."

Draco huffed a laugh. "That won't work."

Hermione grimaced. Draco's talent at Occlumency had been only a well-supported rumor until now.

"You can't just... Stop?"

"You sound like Potter," he said, derisive. "No subtlety. I suppose you think the mind is like a book—"

"Okay, okay," she snapped. "They'll attempt it, at least. Try not to hurt them."

Another cynical laugh. "No promises."

"Hey." She grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop in the middle of the pavement. "These are your people now. Your allies," she revised at the lift of his brow. "Hurting them won't help you."

"Submitting will?"

"Yes. They need to trust you. They can't do that if they think you're hiding something. You need to be honest with them. I'll advocate for you as best I can, but you need to understand what you're walking into. You've been fighting against the Order for years. Their suspicion is rational, the same as your side would feel if I decided to defect."

"My side would torture and kill you."

"And the Order won't," she insisted, "however much they might want to. Understanding why you're coming to them now, the context behind your decision, will help with that."