Beauty From Pain

Chapter Thirty-One

Draco had to wait three days for Harry to finally get the paperwork finalized for their trip to Ireland. There had been some sort of disagreement on whether or not Harry would be able to bring the creature with them to Ireland, and the entire situation had put Draco on edge. Thankfully, Hermione was too busy with Virago during that time to question his somewhat cagey and agitated behavior. He was an admittedly impatient man, and having to wait for the ministry to allow him to travel to Ireland was rather insulting. He understood the reasoning behind someone like Weasley or even Blaise needing to sign a half a dozen waivers before investigating anything important, but he was Draco Malfoy. He was as responsible, logical, and mature as a wizard could be.

When the owl finally arrived with the necessary documents, Draco signed them and sent them off a quickly as he could. He read them, of course. He was wise enough to thoroughly read any document before putting his signature on it, but he could be forgiven for skimming some of the less interesting and somewhat tedious Ministry jargon about safety and liability. As the head of his family, there was no one to throw a fit on his behalf should something happen to him. Except maybe Pansy, Theo, and Blaise, but they weren't family so there would be no weight behind their complaints. In the end, the responsibility for his safety and well-being would be his own. As it should be.

Draco stepped through one of the fireplaces in the Ministry atrium, carrying on overnight bag disguised as a briefcase, late Wednesday night and was relieved to find the building nearly empty. It was far past the time anyone would be working, and he was thankful for the quiet as he made his way to Harry's office. His mind was so preoccupied with the trip ahead and questions about his father's schemes that he nearly jumped out of his skin with the lift announced his arrival on Level Two.

He shook himself, mentally scolding his lack of awareness, and marched out of the elevator. Such distractions only hindered his chances of finding the information he was looking for. The last thing Draco needed was for Harry to change his mind and leave him behind.

When he finally knocked on the door, it was opened by a very frazzled looking Harry. His glasses were sitting askew on his nose, his hair was sticking up every which way, and there were dark circles under his eyes. The office behind him was in a similar amount of disarray, and Draco had to check himself before he sneered at the chaos of it all.

"Sorry about the mess," Harry said in lieu of greeting him. "Been spending a bit too much time in the office."

"I can see that." Draco opted to stand just inside the doorway to prevent messing with whatever system Harry had going and said, "I'm ready to leave when you are."

"Did you talk to Hermione?"

The blatantly personal question made Draco's jaw clench. Rather than answer, he said, "If we wait much longer, it will be tomorrow before we even get there."

Harry didn't push the issue. He merely shook his head, the sigh he let slip teeming with disappointment. It was clear that Harry felt he was making a huge mistake by not telling Hermione what was going on, and that the decision would most certainly come back to haunt him. But it was apparently a lost cause in Harry's eyes.

Draco felt the swift urge to punch him and clenched his fists.

Several tense moments passed as Harry gathered the portkey and the rucksack that contained the warded crate with the creature inside. They were both silent as they grabbed the portkey and were transported to Ireland.

They landed in the middle of a rainstorm, much to Draco's loud protests, and swiftly made their way into town. To the muggle eye Inishmaan was a small, rocky island with little to offer beyond historical sites and ocean views. With a population of under two-hundred, it had been easy to disguise a wizard town as empty farmland. Even with the help of magic it was an exceptionally small town by wizarding standards. Draco scoffed; it was probably even too small for a name.