The Magic Theory

Chapter 6: And It Hits the Fan

Disclaimer: What would I do with a billion dollars? Well, I don't know, but thankfully I don't have to deal with that…yet. I mean… ever.

Harry's POV

"What the hell are you doing here with him?" I cringed at the unveiled disgust in Ron's voice, and when I looked up, the revulsion in his eyes as he looked at me. He sneered when I caught his eye and turned to his brother expectantly.

"Well, I was attempting to have a nice lunch, but it appears my brother has no intention of allowing me to have any nutritional sustenance." Despite the teasing lilt to George's words, I could tell that he did not want this to happen today. He wanted more time to think through the information I had just thrown at him before helping me with his family.

Ron's face twisted even further. "How dare you joke about this? I saw what you said in the Prophet, but you can't honestly be serious! How dare you betray us like this?"

That was the worst thing Ron could have said at that moment. George lost any joking manner and practically seethed. "Betray you? How about you, Ron? You never let anyone but mum and dad know exactly why we suddenly had to turn our backs on someone who had been family for half our lives. He may not be a saint, but at least, he had the courage to tell me about everything even though it was quite possible I'd turn my back on him as well." George paused to take a breath, but upon seeing the less angry and more shocked look on Ron's face, he stopped and waited for what he knew Ron was going to say.

In the silence, I realized that the whole restaurant had stopped talking and was awaiting Ron's response as much as I was. At the same time, I felt not only Ron's, but I realized Hermione's incredulous stares on me. In the end, it was the latter that broke the silence.

"You told him everything?" Hermione said as her eyes widened further, and she stepped out from behind Ron. Despite her clear curiosity, I could tell she was skeptical of what George had said.

I nodded, clearing my throat to speak for the first time since Ron's appearance. "Every last bit. But those are probably not the types of matters that should be discussed here." I maintained eye contact with her, making sure to put special emphasis on the latter half.

She flushed bright red and nodded. "I severely doubt that first bit, but you're correct…for once. It'd be better to discuss this elsewhere. Come on, Ron," she began pulling on her husband, "we should g-"

Her words cut off as the doors opened to reveal the only person who could have made matters worse at that exact moment…

Malfoy.

As every head swiveled to look at Malfoy, I saw Ron becoming pink, then red, then purple. Suddenly, his eyes darted back to me and he snapped, "What? You can't handle us yourself? You had to call in your little reinforcements? What you've already done isn't enough? Now you're going to—what?—duel me with the ferret and my own brother at your side? You think-"

"Ron." Hermione cut him off, casting a frightened look at…me. It was then that I realized I had balled my fists and had been glaring at Ron as intensely as he had been at me. I quickly made the effort to release the tension in my hands and wipe my face clean of emotion. Seeing the change, Ron's face began to relax slightly, his face turning splotchy. Despite this, he was still looking at me warily, and it was obvious that the pull to lash out was still present.

Relaxing had been the wrong idea, though. Apparently, during the last encounter, Malfoy had been raging under the surface. "What the blood hell do you mean, Weasel?" The moment those words had left Malfoy's mouth; I realized that I should have anticipated this. I was suddenly aware of the amount of magic Malfoy was radiating. "As if I'm at Saint Potter's beck and call! Just because you think yourself so high and mighty, doesn't mean you are! You wouldn't last two seconds in a duel with me alone. Your prestigious Auror position doesn't mean anything unless you work for it, Weasley. I may never have worked a day in my life, but at least I don't act as if I have. Weas-"

"Malfoy, the point has been made." My voice cut sharply through Malfoy's rant. I felt, not only his glare, but his magic excess move to focus on me. I had known Malfoy would feel indignant and turn towards me instead. It also knew that it was probably the better option considering that if enough the excess reached Ron, he would not be able to survive.

"And, you! Potter! As I told Weasley, I don't answer to the likes of you. Musts are musts, but beyond that, you are as bad as the Weasel." Malfoy's voice and magic rose to new heights and I took advantage of that enough to sense the exact moment reporters arrived on the scene.

"Malfoy now is definitely not the time." I returned my attention to Ron and Hermione. "We need to talk." I grabbed my wand and heard everyone in the diner draw a collective breath as Ron had his drawn in the same instant. No matter what Malfoy had said, Ron's speed had thoroughly impressed me. I raised an eyebrow and tapped the napkin on the table, before passing it to Hermione, not willing to take the chance with Ron. "Just owl to this address, and we can set up a time that works for the three of us."

Unlike in every other person, Hermione's curiosity was expected when I passed her the napkin that now had a messy scrawl on it. (Even with magic, it couldn't be helped.) "This isn't the address for Grimmauld Place." Though, she said the words as a statement, she looked as if she needed someone else to confirm them—namely me. For a moment, I considered letting the question hang without acknowledging it. Before the thought had a chance to develop, though, I'm replying.

"No, it isn't." Without say anything more, and despite the blazing curiosity still in Hermione's eyes, I turned back to George and found him staring in wonderment at what just occurred. I heard Ron and Hermione's footsteps receding and felt the flare of Malfoy's magic as they passed him. It was not until Malfoy had chosen a table as far away as possible from George and me that the silence in the restaurant broke. People in the restaurant continued with their meals, but with more stares flickering between Malfoy, George and me. Some reporters simply left, looking upset that they had arrived too late, but others remained behind, hoping that something else would happen later.

Another while passed before the silence broke at my table. "Anyways… now that I know what happened two years ago, can you explain what is happening between you and Malfoy now?" A slightly cheerful tone has returned to George's voice.

This was, again, something I should have expected. Internally, I had been thanking every deity that George was not lingering on what had just happened, but at the same time, I wished Malfoy wouldn't be the topic of choice either. I did the type of breathing that had become my norm—deep breaths. "Now, that might even be more complicated than the situation with your family." While seeming to seriously doubt it, George muttered something about them being my family, too. Though the thought brought a smile to my face, I continued as if I hadn't heard what he had just said. "As you heard a moment ago, his opinion of me hasn't changed at all, unless it has worsened. But, we do have a tentative agreement that he'll help in my experiments."

The goofy smile grew (and I do mean grew) on his face. "Ooh, your big, mysterious experiments?" I nodded. "Can you tell me anything about those?" A downright playful look graced his face.

A conflicting moment passed, in which I tried to figure out how much I could tell George. "Well, I can't tell you everything, or much really. It mainly has to do with tapping into magic all around us." He raised an eyebrow and I know he wanted to ask about this. I shook my head. "Don't ask. Malfoy is just a means to an end. If there was anyone else I thought could complete the task, I would have asked, but Malfoy's the last chance. But, he's been difficult to say the least, and he is not nearly as ready for any experiments as I wanted, but it's not as if I actually expected much."

George stifled a laugh but managed to keep the smile on his face. "No, I don't suppose you should expect much from Malfoy, like he said; he's never lifted a finger in his life. I don't suppose you can tell me why he's so necessary to your cause?"

I smiled but shook my head nonetheless. George would have been the perfect person to tell, but not just yet. "No can do, but you will be happy to know that it most definitely isn't personal. I assume you read the Prophet this morning?"

George raised a ginger eyebrow, now visibly holding back laughter. "Oh, yes…. Read it and had a good laugh about it. The value of the Prophet, as low as it was to start, has rapidly declined—possibly hitting rock bottom with this morning's particular piece. Despite the newest revelation about you, dear Harry," he winked at me and I rolled my eyes in response, "you and Malfoy together are more than a little far-fetched."

"Only a little, George?" I looked at him with my best I-Am-Being-A-Prodigious-Arsehole-Stare.

"Well, I'm not here to judge." He winked again—perhaps it's a twitch. At thought, I had to stifle my chuckles. "Any who, I must be going; I'm meeting Angelina. Don't be a stranger anymore." With a final wink, he exited the diner, leaving his half of the tab behind on the table.

I rolled my eyes one final time and left the second half of the tab. Before I exited the restaurant, though, I walked back to where Malfoy was sitting and enchant his own napkin. "Meet my there tomorrow at noon, please. If tomorrow doesn't work, Tuesday will be fine as well." He looked up and nodded. I returned the gesture before turning on my heel and leaving.

Well, that was the most stressful way to kill two birds with one stone, I thought as I Apparated underground.

*)o_0_O_0_o(*

I was running late. I realized it the moment my eyes opened, even before looking over at the clock. By the time I stepped onto Arocia Walk, the higher class sister of Diagon Alley that ran adjacent to the common Wizarding area, I was not expecting Malfoy to still be there. It was half past noon when I reached the tea house, and as I had expected, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

"Took you long enough, Potter. I was beginning to grey." Malfoy's voice stopped me the moment before I Disapparated. He was stepping out of the tea shop wearing deep red robes that didn't seem very comfortable, but I pushed that thought aside for the moment.

"Thought you would have left by now, Malfoy." I smirked at him, wondering what excuse he would use for waiting as long as he did.

He leaves waiting for the biting retort. "I honestly don't have anything better to do, Potter. But, if stand here and talk is all you were planning for us to do, I think I'd rather try and find something else." The look in his eyes assured me that leaving was the last thing he wanted to do, but warned me that I shouldn't push him.

"Right. Don't start, Malfoy. I know as well as you that you won't leave." There was a confidence in my voice that I didn't actually possess as I said the words, and as I put up a hand to stop his indignant response. "Never mind. Let's just go." I held my arm out and Disapparated as soon as he grabbed onto it.

This time, instead of appearing in the only empty room, we appeared directly in the last room I brought Malfoy two days ago. "What, no melting doors this time?" Malfoy sneered as soon as he registered the room we had arrived in.

"No, I didn't feel like supporting another claustrophobic meltdown. Speaking of which, is that really what you plan on wearing for this? I thought I told you to plan for some moving around, or something of the sort." I didn't leave space after my first sentence for his response, but know I have to after the third.

"I wouldn't forget, Potter. The robes are only so I can go out into the Wizarding World without being ridiculed; but of course, you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Before I could respond, he pulled the red robes over his head and dropped them onto the chair in front of the desk. What Malfoy was wearing left me speechless for a moment. He was wearing almost…Muggle apparel. He was wearing a pair of tracksuit bottoms with a green pair of parallel lines going down each side, a hunter green t-shirt and a pair of black-and-silver trainers. Well, if you hadn't known he was a Slytherin before…

Hiding my smirk I nodded and say, "Yes, I suppose that'll work. Are you okay to walk ten feet through the passage to the other room or will I need to Apparate us again?"

Malfoy simply scowled and said, "Lead the way, Potter."