A Tale of Two Dragons: A Dramione Story

Chapter 9

Riding five portkeys across so many miles left Draco feeling thoroughly nauseous. Each portkey was a dragon transportation crate that they rode within and he was fumbling with the latch in a panic to escape before he could puke. He had barely made it outside of the portkey in time to vomit and didn't notice the two very large shoes he had vomited onto. He looked up and saw an exceptionally hairy, somewhat obese man with dark hair and eyebrows that threatened to grow over his eyes. Draco hurried to wipe his mouth and appear dignified but was overcome with another wave of sickness, all of which ended up on the man's shoes again.

Hermione walked out of the crate, feeling completely mortified for Draco, though she understood since she was feeling a bit unwell herself.

"We're friends of Charlie's. Are you Besnik? Do you manage the portkeys?" Hermione inquired while helping Draco stand upright. Had he puked on the man's shoes? Oh no.

"I am Besnik. Why the man sick on my shoes?" he inquired in broken English. His voice was very low. Hermione felt like she was talking to a bear.

"Yes, I'm so sorry, I'll take care of that." Hermione brandished her wand, vanishing all evidence from Besnik's shoes and Draco's shirt. "I'm Hermione, this is Draco. Using five portkeys in a row is a...jarring experience."

Besnik slapped Draco's back, attempting to help but in fact making Draco's situation worse. "I am taking you to my house today, yes?"

"Yes! Thank you for allowing us to stay for the night. It'll just be one day."

Besnik led them out to his car. It was covered in rust to the point that Hermione was surprised it still held together. He had parked on a small trailhead that was deep within the woods. Draco, now capable of independent movement, quickly spread out in the back seat while Hermione took the front.

Besnik dug through the glove box of the car. "I have many crackers, maybe help. He rest while we drive. Maybe an hour until we reach Tirana."

While they were driving Hermione could only admire the countryside. It was a lovely forest, full of broad and open expanses of mixed pine and deciduous trees. The forest seemed to never end.

Draco groaned from the backseat, but Besnik's crackers had helped settle his stomach and he was now able to talk. He apologized to Besnik before turning to Hermione.

"The Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin House, didn't he die in Albania?"

"Yes! You're right," Hermione had completely forgotten, but she had read it in Hogwarts: a history. "Helena Ravenclaw came here to hide after stealing Rowena's diadem. Rowena commissioned The Bloody Baron to find her because she knew that he loved her. He found her in an Albanian forest and she spurned his advances. He killed her and then himself. Their story is ultimately how Voldemort found the diadem."

"They're more dysfunctional than even my parents," Draco joked, though it made Hermione frown.

Hermione leaned against the car window. "Do you think that the tiara worked here even more so than in Britain because there is more magical energy in Albania than anywhere else?"

"It could be. I don't know. It would be a good guess." He said. Draco was disliking every connection the horcrux had to Voldemort. It seemed that the more they found out, the more connections they discovered it had to the Dark Lord. It made him even more sick than the five-portkey ride. But Voldemort's dead. He's dead, Draco reassured himself.

~~~***~~~

Shortly, Hermione and Draco were sitting in Besnik's cramped house around a table they could barely see underneath the mass of food prepared for them by Besnik's wife. His wife looked shockingly similar to him, except she took more effort to keep her eyebrows at bay and her English was considerably better.

Besnik spoke through a mouthful of potatoes. "Neighbors are magic like us. They have friends in their barn tonight, coming to party. We are all going. You come with us, yes? Give you break after long journey from England."

"Yes," Draco blurted "It would be nice to slow down some."

Hermione whispered loudly across the table. "But we have things to do."

"Our nerves have been running high ever since we found that—thing—in Gringotts. We can't accomplish much until the library opens tomorrow anyway." Draco winked. "Are you scared of a little fun, Granger?"

Hermione looked anxious. "I'm not very good at having fun."

~~~***~~~

Draco was admiring the flowers planted outside of Besnik's neighbor's barn. They were delicate and red. He swore he had seen them before. These flowers. They're the same as the one I found in Quirrell's plant press in the bank. Red poppies.

Besnik had found him squatting in the garden. "The party is in there, yet Mr. Draco is out here with the poppies. Albania's national flower, you know? Take one to that pretty lady you bring."

"Hermione? She—," but before Draco could further protest Besnik had pulled him to his feet and pushed him into the barn.

Besnik handed him a flower. "The lady will like it. You want to impress her, no?" He shoved Draco further into the barn.

Hay was strewn about, lining the floor. Food and drinks were levitating near a wall, waiting for hungry or thirsty guests. Musicians playing the accordion, tambourine, violin, and drums performed in the corner, creating a lively atmosphere. Most of the guests were dancing hand in hand in the center of the barn. The others not dancing stayed near the perimeter, watching.

Besnik guided Draco to where Hermione stood watching the dancers. "Your men friend has gift for you," Besnik said, shoving him towards Hermione, before disappearing into the crowd.

Draco extended the flower in a shaky hand.

"Draco, that's lovely," Hermione said, taking it from his hand and tucking it behind her ear. She performed an exaggerated curtsy. "May I have this dance?" It had taken all of Hermione's courage to offer him that invitation. Sharing her feelings with boys had never been her strong point. But her affection for Draco was demanding to be expressed in that moment.

Draco bowed and offered his hand "It would be my honor," he replied. Merlin, she asked me to dance. This is my opportunity. He led her out to the dance floor and brought the back of her hand to his lips. I can't believe I'm doing this, Draco thought. I can't believe I'm doing this, Hermione reflected.

Hermione's only experience with dancing was at the Yule ball, and Viktor was a limp, underwhelming dancer whose hands tended to wander. Draco, however, remained in precise form though she could tell he was relaxed. He kept her in close, leading her as they spun around and around the room. She could see the candlelight reflecting in his gray eyes as he looked down warmly upon her. This is exactly where I want to be, Hermione thought. The noise around her seemed to fade and the whole universe that existed outside of Draco's arms fell away. The sounds of instruments, crickets, and chattering guests disappeared.

The musicians transitioned into a ballad. Draco pulled her even closer as their pace slowed. She turned her head and rested her cheek upon his chest. He could smell the poppy that was in Hermione's hair, just inches below.

He rested his chin upon her head. "I knew you couldn't resist me, Granger," he said, whispering into her ear with a slight chuckle.

Hermione knew that all she had to do was to look up and he would kiss her, but she forbid herself from crossing that line. I've already crossed too many lines. She remained where she was, awash in his scent piney scent.

"I'm starting to think you're right,Draco."