A Change of Heart

Malach Ha-maves

Draco pulled an uneasy face at his crotch that was too tight around his buttocks, legs, and mini Draco because of the jeans fabric. Harry had lent him a pair of jeans that draped smoothly around his legs, but which Draco had had to wriggle into. However, according to Harry, jeans were a must for Muggles and he had put on the offending piece with a little murmur. He wore a white shirt over his jeans that was too tight around his biceps.

Draco clung awkwardly to the loops that hung from the ceiling of the tram. Just moments earlier, he had arrogantly claimed that he didn't need a foothold in the Muggle vehicle- after all, he was the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team- only to fall when the tram suddenly had to brake due to a cyclist crossing the road. The blond boy had then decided to swallow his pride and touch the filthy loop- plastic - the name alone sounded like it was full of bugs and other Muggle diseases.

Draco had to admit that Harry had dressed them well as Muggles. The dark-haired boy himself had on a gray shirt and shabby jeans, but his friend's casual attire was not noticeable in the sea of baggy pants and wrinkled shirts. The men in the Netherlands had no sense of style, Draco thought when another fresh herd of Muggles entered the tram. The Dutch seemed to opt for practical clothing and convenience. Even the women seemed to have their hair unkempt in a ponytail and looked tired. Draco ran his light gray eyes over the woman who was standing with two children by her hand. He'd look tired with such rascals too, he thought with a grimace as he saw a kid wipe his snot on the mother's shirt.

The tram hobbled on undisturbed, the noise of the vehicle, along with the conversations of those around him, was all Draco heard. A tinny woman's voice rang through the loudspeakers. Draco had jumped in surprise the first time he heard the voice of the tram driver near his ear. Harry had reassured him in a teasing voice that it was normal and just Muggle technology, but it still felt to Draco as if the woman with the Amsterdam accent was speaking with a 'Sonorous' down the tram.

"Next stop, Meneer Visserplein," said the hoarse voice of the wrinkled woman driving the tram.

A warm hand was placed on Draco's shoulder, when he looked up he saw calm green eyes looking at him purposefully. "That's our stop," Harry said as he walked to one of the sliding doors. Harry had already pressed a red button that turned on a red light on the tram driver, indicating that passengers wanted to get off.

When the tram jerked and at the same time came to a sudden stop, Harry impatiently pushed a button whose paint had already worn off. When the boys got out, they were on a busy street where fast-riding cyclists regularly passed them. Across the street was an imposing brown-brick building with chic-looking moldings and a Romanesque entrance gate.

Draco beckoned to the building, "Looks old enough doesn't it, Potter?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at the rectangular building. "It is indeed old, but if that is our criteria, then more than half of Amsterdam falls under it." The boy looked a little lost until he kept staring at a building that stood in the distance like an island among the busy roads filled with cars and cyclists. "That looks more like a church," he said, pointing to the building with the two white towers.

"We are not looking for a church," said Draco snidely, "but for a library in a synagogue."

Harry shrugged, "That building looks religious-ish," pointed to the building across the street, "not that building... I suggest we walk towards the building with the white towers, we'll probably run into people who know where to go."

Reluctantly, Draco followed Harry, his hands in the tight pockets of his pants. He could feel his wand pricking his buttocks and lower back with every step, tucked gently under the soft fabric of his shirt. He normally preferred to keep his wand in its holster around his wrist, but the short sleeves of his shirt had prevented this from happening. Harry then smiled and stuck his own wand in his back pocket and looked at him defiantly. A Malfoy could take on any challenge, however, muggle and derogatory it may be!