DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.
Draco watched attentively as the raindrops raced against each other on the only window pane of his small home which he acquired after the war.
"I want a fresh start." Draco said, as he held his mother's hand, whilst Lucius stood by them and listened intently without displaying an ounce of emotion on his face.
"You don't want to live with us anymore?" asked Narcissa, her voice threatening to break.
"I just want to get away from here and clear my head, Mother."
"But in Muggle London?"
Draco sighed and squeezed his mother's hand reassuringly. "It's the best place to start."
"If that's what you want, then it's alright with me. I want you to be happy. It's just your father who has to approve."
He turned to look at Lucius, whose eyes betrayed no emotion. Draco almost expected to be shouted at, to be called a disgrace and be disowned by his own father. But what Lucius did next puzzled Draco and Narcissa both. He placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and looked at him, eyes almost glossy and said, "Do what you have to do, son."
Draco absent-mindedly started to scratch his left arm, where that ghastly mark used to exist. He distinctly remembered when Voldemort had fallen, much to the displeasure of his devotees.
Cheers echoed throughout as they celebrated their victory. Draco watched, leaning against a wall, trying to figure out a way to disappear. Never had he felt so out of place before.
He was about to turn away when he heard someone call him out and was surprised to find that it was Harry.
He was confused. What would Harry have to say to him after all that he'd done to them? He was expecting a punch and was getting prepared to receive the blow but instead, Harry reached out his hand towards Draco for him to shake, which he hesitantly returned.
No words were exchanged but the message was obvious. All was forgiven.
Draco continued watching the raindrops compete against each other, eventually merging into one as they reached the bottom of the window pane. He thought it was rather splendid and pondered over how he had overlooked all the beautiful things in front of him those past few years. Sighing, Draco turned away from the window and looked around his lonely home. It was unorganized; papers strewn across the floor here and there, unwashed dishes on the kitchen counter and a single sofa lying forlorn in the furthest part of the living room.
Draco didn't bother to make his home look pleasing; who was going to come visit him, anyway? He didn't know anyone in Muggle London. Except for Harry, Ron and Hermione.
'As if they would come,' thought Draco bitterly.
He recalled when he met all three of them a few weeks ago in a furniture shop not too far from where he lives.
Draco was eyeing fancy sofa sets and chandeliers, shocked that Muggles lived lavish lifestyles as well. He rounded the corner of a bookshelf when he suddenly bumped into someone.
"Sorry about that," he heard the person speak in an all-too-familiar voice.
Draco lifted his head and widened his eyes as he made eye-contact with Harry.
"Potter?"
"Malfoy."
"What are you doing here?"
"Interesting question, Malfoy. Just what do you do in a furniture shop?" said Harry in a mocking tone, albeit free from malice.
Draco was about to respond when suddenly,
"Harry! Oi! You walk too fast! Honestly, can't you wait for at least a sec- oh, Malfoy."
"Weasley." Draco acknowledged as he tried to smile but couldn't get his cheek muscles to work.
"Malfoy in Muggle London. That's a hoot."
"Ron." said Harry, indirectly telling him to back down. "So what are you doing here, Malfoy?"
"I'm looking for a fresh start."
"Fresh start, he says."
"Ron!"
"My bad, just used to exchanging insults with the ferret. That's all."
"Yes, Weasley. A fresh start. Surely, you know what that it is. So I've met two-thirds of the Golden Trio, where's know-it-all?"
"In the book store. As always." replied Harry.
"Oh."
An awkward silence ensued amongst all three of them next, all wondering how to continue their conversation or if they should continue it at all.
"Well," Draco piped up. "I'll best be off then. Pleasure seeing you-"
"HARRY! RON! I FOUND IT! I FOUND THE BOOK!"
Draco shifted his eyes towards the source of exclamation and was not too surprised to see Hermione waving a thick book in her hand.
"I knew it would be here. I just knew- oh. What's he doing here, Harry?"
Draco felt a slight pang of annoyance as Hermione refused to acknowledge his presence and blatantly ignored him. With a slightly bruised ego, he glared at Hermione. Sure he was being immature, but give him a break; they weren't exactly the best of friends.
With a slight smile on his face, Harry replied "He's looking for a fresh start, Hermione."
"Well, that's news."
"Yes, well, that's news to everyone now, isn't it?" Draco replied in a harsh tone, obviously annoyed by the fact that nobody believed him. "Now, if you don't mind at all, which I'm fairly sure you don't as I see you all are unnerved by the mere sight of me, I'll be leaving."
Just as he was about to turn away, a hand reached out to stop him and he was shocked to see that it was Hermione's.
"Malfoy, since you're insistent that you want to start afresh, why don't you do just that by joining us for lunch?"
Merlin, why was she so annoying?
"That's nice, Granger. But I honestly don't think that-"
"That's a great idea." said Harry to which Ron responded with a whispered "What? Are you out of your mind?"
"Potter, you can't be-"
"Do join us, Malfoy. Ginny will be there as well."
"I don't think it would be right to-"
"Yes, Harry. It wouldn't be right."
"Ronald! Don't be so rude."
"But Hermione-"
"Okay." said Draco.
"Okay what?" Harry prodded.
Running a hand hand through his hair, Draco finally said "I'll join you for lunch."
"Brilliant!"
"Harry!" exclaimed a slightly exasperated Ron.
"Do follow us, Malfoy. Just a few blocks ahead is the best restaurant in town."
"Wait, you mean you want to have lunch right now?"
"Of course. Now come along."
Harry and Hermione walked out of the furniture shop, followed by Ron who mumbled incoherent things under his breath. Draco rolled his eyes and followed them out, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
And so they had lunch, which consisted of Harry and Ginny asking Draco a million questions, Ron still muttering things under his breath, and Hermione staring at Draco intently as if trying to figure him out. Unnerved by the constant staring, Draco turned to Hermione and said "I know I'm a fine sight, Granger, but do take a picture if you want, it will last longer," receiving a glare from Ron, a giggle from Ginny, an amused sigh from Harry and a hesitant smile from Hermione.
After lunch was over, which Draco thanked Merlin for, they parted ways. Except for Hermione. Obviously.
"Malfoy?"
"Yes, Granger? Would you like to take that picture of me now?"
Ignoring Draco's snark, Hermione asked "Do you live around here?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
"No offense, Granger, but you aren't exactly my type."
"Oh don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. It's just a question."
"Do you honestly think I'd let you in on my location of residence? You'd probably try to break in and hex me."
Hermione huffed indignantly and replied, "Malfoy, if you don't want to tell me, you should have just said so in the first place. I don't even know why I bothered asking." And with that, Hermione abruptly turned away.
Before Draco could stop himself, however, he blurted out "It's a grey house with a green picket-fence, Granger. Surely you'll be able to single it out."
"Alright. See you around, Malfoy."
"Right."
But she didn't see him around. For she never visited him.
Draco continued to look around his solitary abode. He wouldn't admit it, but he really wanted someone to talk to; someone who wouldn't judge him for what he'd done in the past.
Draco's thoughts were interrupted when he heard the mail slot of his front door make a squeaky noise.
'Now who would send me mail?' he thought aloud.
Walking towards the front door, he noticed a single envelope and inspected it from afar. He prodded it with a stick to make sure that nothing would jump out of it and when he was satisfied that he wasn't going to get attacked, he picked the envelope up and tore it open to find a plain card with a note on it. In neat handwriting, it said 'Madam Laurie's Tea Shop. Today. Four o' clock.'
Draco turned the card over to see if anyone had signed it but no one did. 'Is this some kind of joke?'
He narrowed his eyes and abruptly threw the card into the trash can. Draco was annoyed, not because he had no clue who sent it, but because whoever sent it literally demanded him to be at Madam Laurie's, and no one demands a Malfoy.
Or so he thought.
The next day, Draco received another card.
This time it read 'You are extremely rude, however I've decided to wave it off. Madam Laurie's. Today. Four o' clock. Be there.'
Draco snorted, blew a raspberry and once more threw the card in the trash can.
Over the next couple of days, Draco kept on receiving cards, each telling him the same thing: to be at Madam Laurie's. Four o' clock.
Except each successive card held more vexation in it, with the sender calling him a dozen of colourful names. To be frank, he was amused. He didn't mind the fact that this person wouldn't leave him alone; he reveled in the fact that someone actually wanted to see him, to talk to him, and yet he wasn't giving the light of the day.
'I'm a hypocrite.' thought Draco. Just a few days ago he was whining about how lonely he was, and now since someone wants to have a chit-chat with him, suddenly he just isn't interested.
He looked through the pile of cards he had received and wondered if he should actually visit this mysterious secret admirer of his (Of course it was a secret admirer, who else would demand for his oh-so-wonderful presence?).
'No, definitely not going to do that.'
And with his decision made, he threw the card he received that day into the trash can. Again.
He didn't receive cards the next few days though, and he was starting to get anxious. Perhaps, he had exasperated the sender to oblivion and she (Yes, she, because secret admirers of Draco are always girls and not boys - or so he thought) has decided to give a taste of his own medicine?
'I don't care.' he thought. 'I really, really don't.'
And with that in mind, he plopped himself onto the sofa and watched some tele-vee-jun. Whatever it's called.
Draco sat by the front door the next day, eagerly waiting for an envelope to slip past through the mail slot (he admits it, he cares) but to no avail. It'd been five hours and still no mail.
He was getting frustrated. Was this person doing it on purpose?
Draco ran a hand through his hair and had an internal debate with himself as to whether he should just go to Madam Laurie's and settle this once and for all. This debate involved a few self-slaps, occasional hair-pulling and talking to himself like a deranged pygmy puff.
He finally stood up and patted down his clothes as he came to a decision.
He was going to Madam Laurie's today.
'You're a dolt. But a good-looking dolt.' Draco thought to himself as he pushed past the doors to Madam Laurie's. It was exactly four o' clock.
He looked through the crowd of people sitting, munching and talking with their mouths full, wondering where his enthusiastic fan could be.
He waited for about fifteen minutes and soon came to the conclusion that this had all just been a prank, a mischievous act devised by those who still loathe him for his previous behavior and who wish to humiliate him for the pain he'd caused; how foolish he was to think that someone actually wanted to converse with him!
Draco was about to leave when he felt someone grab his hand and turned around to see that it was Hermione. Again.
'Honestly. This woman just loves to grab me whenever she pleases, doesn't she?'
'Wait, that sounds wrong. I take it back.'
"You finally came."
"What?"
"I should've known you were too proud to do what anyone tells you to do."
"What are you talking about, Granger?"
"The cards? They were from me. I just wanted to have a conversation with you to, you know, catch up. I guess. I was curious as to why you suddenly decided to start a clean slate. I thought that maybe I could help in some way. I didn't sign the cards because I knew you wouldn't come if you knew it was me. I mean, imagine that. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger having a civil conversation. That's a laugh. I thought that maybe you'd come if the cards weren't signed. To satisfy your curiosity. Oh Merlin, that sounded perverse. What I meant was-"
"Granger, calm down."
"Sorry, I just-"
"Okay."
"Okay what?"
Draco rolled his eyes. She wasn't best friends with Harry for nothing.
"Okay, we'll talk, if you wish. Though, I'd prefer it if it weren't too civil. I really don't do civil." Draco said in his usual drawl, obviously trying to irk the girl in front of him.
But she wasn't annoyed. Instead, she smiled at him with those magnificent pearly whites and motioned him to a table where she took her seat across from him.
"If I didn't know better, Granger, I'd say you're slightly infatuated with me."
"Oh do keep it to yourself, Malfoy."
And for the first time in a long time, Draco didn't feel so alone.
Author's Note: This is originally a one-shot, but if I do get enough requests, I might turn it into a multi-chaptered fic.
Constructive criticism is welcome as always and I would absolutely love reviews. Ciao!