Disclaimer: All Characters/Places belong to J.K.Rowling. :
This is my second stab at writing, it would really motivate me if you guys Reviewed.
Like, really motivate. -HintHintWinkWink-
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"They once said, 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder,' I never truly believed that. Absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder, it only reminds us of what the heart can't have. Togetherness makes the heart grow fonder."
He often found himself catching glimpses of him in places he couldn't possibly be anymore; like the reflection of him in his eyes; or the feeling of soft fingers running through the thickness of his hair. Most times it was a simple gesture; like his hand on his cheek, or the sensation of his lips pressed against his own. Never the less, they were just gestures, figments of his imagination. He no longer resided there. He frequently found himself muttering away to no one in particular, only catching himself when he had finished a whole conversation on why wizards of todays century were using less magic and more muggle tricks.
The perfect dream house at the end of the street no longer seemed perfect. They had once imagined a family, a large family, in order to keep the heir alive; but those thoughts lingered and quickly faded over time. Now all that was left of their vision was a large empty house, which even the house elves complained about having to clean so often. The wind howled throughout the corridors late at night, the windows rattling, which he didn't much care for. The house was old, almost as old as he was, and it would sell for a considerable amount after the open house tomorrow morning. It was a family home and his hopes of having a family had been dashed. A smaller, more single home, would be more suitable and much easier to manage.
He wrapped the last of the "fine china" and placed it gently into the box labeled fragile. Glancing around the now empty living room he rose to his feet suddenly in the mood for a French Vanilla Steamer. Grabbing his coat from the front closet he slipped into the afternoon sunlight. The August heat beat down on the small houses which were located about half a mile from town. He often found the peacefulness the most enjoyable thing about being away from the hustle and bustle of town which he was so used to. He wouldn't mind the walking so much if it weren't for the summer heat, which often left him dehydrated. But summer was drawing an end, and it would soon be time to go back to work. He pushed open the familiar doors as the sweet aromas of coffee and vanilla flowed around him. Taking his a seat at the back of the quaint shop he ordered his usual.
While waiting for his order he casually glanced around at what he'd be leaving behind. To say that he would miss this place would be an understatement. He spent five good, well, good but rocky years here. All of his best memories resided in this humble city; he had gotten married here, bought his first house; he had given up everything to come here for him. It was miles away from where he worked and even farther from all his friends.
"You know, this doesn't seem like such a good idea," a soft finger pressed against his lips made him silence. "It'll be fine, I promise you. We'll buy a real nice car, you can go and visit them any time you like. Please, you know how much I need this, and the house is a bargain considering the size of it." He frowned slightly, "a car? Get real, you'll never catch me in one of those muggle deathtraps. I'll just apparitate, thank you very much." He sneered at the very thought of trying to manage a stick shift.
In the end, he ended up buying the sizable house, only to be living in it alone after only three months. It was one thing he'd be glad to leave behind. The ridiculously enormous mansion, and the painful memories that came with it. He finished up his steamer, leaving a small tip, and left quickly. Tomorrow would be a long day of enduring small muggle talk and sipping cheap wine while he showed the possible buyers their new home.
He arose early, setting out a small plate of biscuits and tea for the arrivals. At half past, guests starting to pour in, mingling and helping themselves to the complimentary treats. He showed them around the large rooms, pointing out all the good features the house had to offer. By mid evening he was weary, and ready to crash for the long drive tomorrow. As he cleared away the empty dishes the sound of knocking filled the echoing rooms. He sighed inwardly; "I apologize, the open house is over now. " A soft whine and a familiar voice could be heard from the other side of the door. "Come on Hermione. They said it's over, we already have a home." "Ronald Weasley! Living with your parents does not constitute as a house. Especially with the three children and the fourth on the way." She rubbed her stomach nonchalantly at the slight mention of her unborn child. She rapped once again on the door; "Please, we've come a long way just to see this house. It was referred to us, please."
His heart raced, his breathing quicken, he recognized those voices..It couldn't be. There was no way in Hogwarts History it could be them..He flung open the door and there on his very doorstep stood a very disgruntled red haired boy and a very pregnant bushy haired girl. Ron Weasley raised his head as the door flung open, catching his breath in his throat. A small smile danced on Hermione's lips as she looked up at the boy. No one said a word for what seemed like an eternity. Finally a small voice piped up,
"M..Malfoy.." Draco shook his head quickly trying to shake himself from his thoughts. His eyes scanned over the obvious couple standing in front of him. He was at a loss for words, he still couldn't register that the weaslebe and mudblood were standing before him. He shook his head again, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Good luck seeing the house now Hermione," Ron muttered not so quietly to his wife. Draco stood up straight, brushing off the imaginary dust from his blazer, "Once again, I apologize, the viewing of the house ended half an hour ago." Hermione was on the verge of tears as she stared up at the blond haired boy. "Please, we've come too far to turn away without looking. I have an amazing offer for you!" She said groveling at his feet. "Malfoy..Out of the goodness of your heart, we'd love to see your house."
Malfoy snorted, "An amazing offer? Considering you married a Weasley, it's undoubtedly impossible to have anything near enough to what my house is worth." Putting on his trade mark smirk he stared at the girl in front of him. The bushy haired girl rummaged through her purse before pulling out a check book.
"I'll write down a number Malfoy. If you like what you see, will you allow us to view the house?" Draco spent a good amount of time mulling it over. He could always say no, and they'd leave. Reluctantly he agreed as she handed him a cheque; he glanced down at the numbers written along the line, and if he wasn't too proud of himself, his jaw would have dropped. He eyed them suspiciously, "you really have this much money Granger?" She nodded up at him, flashing a reassuring smile. Draco rolled his eyes and stepped away from the door allowing the couple to slip past. "Hermione, I don't like this place," Ron said after taking one step inside, "especially since it's been owned by Malfoy; I smell a ferret." Draco pretended to be interested in something off the kitchen and left the two to explore the house.
"It's perfect," Hermione said after thoroughly expecting the house. "Five bedrooms, three baths, the living room is to die for."
Draco turned from the kitchen and looked over at them, disappointment clearly written on his face. "Your offer has been the best so far, and I leave tomorrow-" "Good riddance," Ron interrupted. "- and I'd like to sell it early. The house is yours Granger." She squealed in excitement and threw her arms around the larger boy, hugging him with great force. Draco inwardly gagged, yet a small smile played on his lips. He pushed her off gently as Ron glared at him.
Hermione turned her attention away from Ron who muttered something about the smell of ferret sticking to his clothes and he'd meet her in the car as she turned to Draco. She smiled fondly at him and held out her occupied hand. "This is for you Draco," she stared up at with shining, wistful eyes, "he asked me to deliver it to you personally." Draco stared at her and then at the letter in confusion. She thanked him once again and rushed away muttering to herself about wall paperings and tile flooring.
Closing the door behind them, he gaped down at the letter, knowing exactly who the author of the note was. Flipping the letter over he noticed the familiar writing. He closed his eyes and shook his head as he tossed the letter onto the kitchen counter. "Not now," he muttered to himself. He rubbed his temples, pleading the tears not to flow; but his pleads were useless. Hot tears flowed from his brilliant gray eyes. "Not now.." he muttered again, "you were never suppose to come back. You promised me." The frustration inside of him slowly started to surface. "Why now! When I'm moving on with my life!" He sobbed out despite himself. He had been holding it all in since the day he lost him, the last time he'd ever see him. It wasn't in his nature to cry, not over someone else. Sure, when he was younger he cried when he fell off his broomstick, he cried when father took away his childhood toys, but he never cried over someone. Not when his mother was taken to Azkaban, not when his father received the dementors kiss.
It wasn't until he met him that his feelings came through, and he was ashamed and embarrassed. Draco slumped against the floor and put his face in his hands, glancing up every once in a while to the letter. Pulling himself up off the floor he padded into the kitchen and glared at the note. He flipped it through his fingers, mulling it over, wondering if it would be worth it to just burn it. Finally deciding against it, he ripped open the top, slowly pulling out the letter.
He could barely contain the emotions rising from him as he began to read:
Dear Draco,
I'd like to meet with you again, soon.
Draco blinked, turning the note over again, trying to find the rest of the letter. That's it? He thought to himself. No date? No place? Not even a return address? Not that he would even consider going, after everything. The frustration inside of him had not ceased as he crumpled the letter into a tight ball and threw it against the wall. "This isn't worth it, I'm leaving tomorrow, I'm leaving him and all of this behind."
"Watch that will you! It's marked fragile for a reason," Draco growled out frustratingly as the movers stumbled toppling over the stacked boxes. He rolled his eyes in annoyance,muttering under his breath, "bloody muggles." When everything had been said and done and all the boxes had been loaded into the moving truck, Draco gave the movers directions to the house and told them he'd be around eventually.
It was nearing twelve noon when Draco finally reached his new home. It was a considerable size smaller than his previous home; two bedroom, two bathroom, but it would make due. It was closer to his work, which makes a much easier travel. He stared out the window at an unfamiliar town, sighing inwardly. "So this is it Draco, " he mumbled to no one in particular, "the end of the world for you."
He smirked softly to himself as he finished writing the ingredients onto the board, flicking his wand, they disappeared. A sudden voice interrupted his thoughts, "I trust you're well settled, professor Malfoy." Draco whipped around and stared at the boy in front of him. With unruly black hair, trademark glasses, and the unmistakable lightning bolt scar there was no mistaking who the boy was. Draco stumbled back as the boy advanced towards him, laughing fondly, "is that a yes? I told you I wanted to meet you..." he grinning knowingly, "I guess you hadn't realized it would be this soon." Draco's wall started to form, as his crystal ice eyes glazed over, "Why are you here?" The boy laughed, grinning from ear to ear, "Who else would give you this Job, but someone who knows you so well Draco." Draco's heart pounded, he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. The boy's voice lowered and softened, "Did you miss me, Draco?" Harry asked him quietly.