upon which rested a single bowler hat and a gnarled walking stick which looked about three times as old as Dumbledore and had about as much character to it.
"I do have a last name, but since I'm assuming yours isn't 'Merrybones' I thought I'd keep things informal," Arne said, with a smooth smile.
Touche, thought Hermione.
From the narrow corridor, Arne slid open a panel that opened to a small sitting area. There was a tea carafe set up, presumably in anticipation of the meeting, with several pasties and cakes.
"Will you be joining us?" Arne asked Borgin, only just noticing that he was still standing outside the front door.
"Rather not, all the same," Borgin replied, shuffling from foot to foot. "If that' s all you'll be needing from me this evening, I'll be off?" The question was put to Draco.
Draco nodded, reached into a pockets and pulled out yet another small, drawstring pouch of what Hermione assumed was Borgin's payment. He tossed it to Borgin.
Honestly, Malfoy must have been walking around with a small fortune in his pants.
Hermione and Draco took a seat at opposite ends of the same green velvet sofa in the lounge room. The scene was almost like something you witnessed at a marriage counselling session, Hermione thought, with an internal snort.
Malfoy made a small, amused-sounding noise and Hermione was once again struck by the eerie notion that he could read her mind. "Tea?" Arne asked them. He gestured towards the carafe. Odd, but he didn' t look like the sort to go to the trouble of putting out such a delicately polite spread.
Draco shook his head, and then gave Hermione the briefest of glances.
"No, thank you. We've just come from lunch."
"Very well then." Arne took a seat in an armchair.
He was really quite an attractive man. Hermione guessed his age to be at most, mid-twenties. He had sandy hair, cut and gelled into an old fashioned style and was wearing the same, fine, white shirt with tweed pants.
Odd choice, given the weather, but Hermione had already established that he was something of an eccentric.
"So, we have a problem with a binding marriage spell, I believe? Remarkable thing, Fida Mia," he looked oddly smug as he said this. "I take it you know its beginnings?"
"Yeah," snorted Draco. "A crazy old Danish polygamist."
Arne steepled his fingers, resting his elbows on his tweed covered knees. He gave the impression of someone telling a story to children. "Some people find it to be an eloquent enchantment. There aren't that many these days that bind to the fabric of your soul without causing damage. There aren't any legal ones, anyway."
Draco grimaced. Hermione thought it might have been in response to Arne's flowery description of the soul. She wasn't entirely wrong.
"Eloquent?" Draco scoffed. "It's a curse, not a charm. Ordinary marriage is bad enough without having this violating, psychic link with your partner. No wonder the spell is illegal here," he added, with enough disdain to choke a chicken.
"Not much of a romantic, I see?" Arne noted. He walked over to bureau and retrieved a quill and a pad of parchment.
Draco must have felt that the answer to this particular question was obvious enough that it did not require a response. He slapped a snooty expression on his face and stared straight ahead.
"Do you mind if I take down a few notes as we go?" asked Arne. He was watching them watch each other as he took his seat once more.
No one voiced any objections.
"How long have you two been seeing each other?"
"We're not," both Draco and Hermione said, at the same time. Hermione couldn' t help feeling just a bit prickled by the vehemence of Draco' s reply, however.
Arne looked up from his notes. "Sudden thing, then?"
Draco cleared his throat and sat a little straighter in his seat. "You could say that."
Arne wrote something else down on his paper. It looked like a good five or so sentences. Hermione wanted to see what it was.
"Why do you need to know that?" she had to ask.
"The same reason I like to see my clients before they know they're being watched. Gives me an idea of how far the spell's roots have gone. Your emotions affect the spell more than you realise. Any remedy I make has to be tailor made. Overkill won't work, in this instance, it might even be harmful. It's useful to gauge how much you have been influenced by Fida Mia, and how much is just..." he paused, shrugged,