A/N: Welcome everyone! I hope you enjoy this latest story. I do plan on updating the rest of my stories, but this idea popped into my head and refused to let go! It's basically Harry Potter meets Breakfast at Tiffany's. Of course I own neither. Let me know what you think!
Chapter One: The Malfoy Heir
"I'll take it."
"Excellent! Let me draw up the paperwork, then we can get started."
The middle-aged Muggle hurried from the office and disappeared inside a back room. He'd looked as though Christmas had arrived early. Draco couldn't help but long for the magic he'd left behind. If the man were a wizard he could have conjured or summoned the papers in order to get the process started quicker. But the man was a Muggle, which, Draco reminded himself for about the hundredth time since leaving Malfoy Manor, was the whole point. A Muggle neighborhood was the last place anyone would expect to find Draco Malfoy, last descendent from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. The Malfoy family was quite well known for the contempt they held for Muggles and the non-magic world they occupied.
The man returned a minute later holding a stack of papers. His broad grin showed two rows of perfect white teeth. Draco forced himself to smile back, hoping he looked excited, and steeled himself as the man launched into a tirade about rent payments, general rules, maintenance schedules, and other expectations Draco didn't have a hope of remembering. He hardly paid attention to any of it. Only when the Muggle finally stopped talking and held the writing utensil Draco was fairly certain was called a 'pen' out to him did Draco finally smile genuinely for the first time.
"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Malfoy," the Muggle said as he stood up and extended his right arm in Draco's direction.
Draco merely nodded and shook the man's hand.
The Muggle then gave Draco a set of keys before he finally told Draco that he was free to move into his new home. Draco left the office and made the short walk to the apartment that was to be his for at least the next year. It was on the other side of the front office, near the front of the street. As he entered number 104 a few minutes later he was suddenly grateful that he'd gotten an apartment on the lower level. He didn't know if he would have managed to furnish an upper level apartment with no magic.
As he was pushing the key into the lock a soft voice carried down to him. It was decidedly feminine and, though he had no clue why, familiar. The song she sung was haunting and melancholy, and seemed to echo all the feelings Draco had been struggling with for the past year or so. He did not see anyone when he looked up, and since he was in no mood to visit anyone just yet, he opened the door to his apartment and stepped inside.
Draco looked around his new surroundings and marveled at how different it was from Malfoy Manor. He'd been brought up in a life of comfort where everything he'd ever wanted had been handed to him. Sometimes he didn't even need to ask. This place the size of a broom cupboard was as different from that old life as it was possible to be. And while part of him wanted to change his mind and go back to that life of privilege, he'd only feel more trapped there.
If there was one thing the war had taught him, it was that life was too short to live as others wanted.
As small as this apartment was, it represented freedom and liberty. For the first time in his life Draco was finally free to live as he wanted and to make his own choices.
And he decided that his first choice would be to change the color of his new home.
He took his wand out of his black trousers and decided that his last act of magic would be to change the walls from beige to green and black. The irony of that decision wasn't lost on him.
When he was finished he stepped back to admire his handiwork. The living room, kitchen, and master bedroom now resembled the Slytherin common room and dormitories. They would serve as a reminder of the life he'd willingly abandoned. He didn't want every trace of his former life gone.
Draco spent much of the day afterwards going from room to room and made lists of everything he both needed and wanted. As he moved from task to task he couldn't help but marvel at how liberating it was not to use magic. He'd grown up seeing magic used for everything and was told that not using it was a sign of weakness.
He had to admit that, while he still much preferred magic to the Muggle way of doing things, it didn't feel like weakness not to lift his wand for every little thing.
As the day wore on, Draco found that he was more tired than he would otherwise have been. He'd been cleaning the old-fashioned way for hours; washing the windows, vacuuming the floors, dusting the shelves, polishing and waxing everything else. He wanted the place to be spotless before he moved in any furniture. By the time he'd finished the sun was setting and soreness ran over his entire body. He suddenly felt a new appreciation for Muggles. He and the rest of his kind had never understood just how difficult they had it.
He went up to the master bedroom and was overcome with a sudden urge to conjure a nice fat armchair. Surely one more little act of magic wouldn't hurt. He fingered the wand waiting in the pocket of his pants. He'd gone so far as to take it out and point it at the empty space by the small window where he wanted it. His hand shook with the effort it took to stop himself from waving his wand and saying the word.
Reluctantly, he lowered the wand a moment later and shook his head. Maybe magic was like a drug and he was quitting cold turkey. It was much harder than he'd thought it would be. He'd been so preoccupied with getting away from his father that he hadn't given much thought to what it would be like once he'd actually done it.
He was about to put the wand back in his pocket when he was struck with a sudden inspiration to hide it under a loose floorboard he found while polishing. It would serve as his hiding place, and hoped he would eventually forget about it if he kept it out of sight long enough. Not that he really believed that, but it was better than constantly keeping it within touching distance.
Now I really feel like a Muggle, Draco thought to himself as he placed his wand carefully in the small hiding spot. He felt the wrongness of it, suddenly struck with the burden of just what he was doing. He was renouncing his heritage; who he was. And for what? Just because he didn't want to marry the girl his father wanted him to? Was that really a good reason for giving up everything he'd ever known?
Draco knew the answer. Yes. It was worth it. He would no longer further his father's agenda and be his puppet. He would not marry a woman he did not love for the sake of a cause he did not believe in. Potter may have killed Voldemort a year ago, but it didn't mean that all had ended well. In the end the goal of the Dark Lord and his followers had been realized with the casting out of all the Muggle-Borns. The Ministry of Magic had been so fearful that another dark wizard would follow in Voldemort's footsteps and try to finish what he started that they declared that all Muggle-borns would no longer be welcomed or acknowledged as witches or wizards.
Draco hadn't really thought much about it at the time. He certainly had never cared much for their welfare before. In fact, he hadn't really noticed their absence at all. It wasn't until his father had come into his room one day and announced that he would be marrying Astoria Greengrass that he'd finally been pushed over the edge.
"Why should I?" Draco had snapped at Lucius, who had turned to leave after his announcement, clearly expecting his son to fall and line and obey. Draco remembered the way his father had paused in his tracks and turned slowly back around to face him with a look of utter calm on his face.
"Why? Because you are my son and heir, and you will do as I tell you. It is not your place to question why. Miss Greengrass comes from a perfectly respectable family and as such, she will produce heirs for both houses and keep the magical bloodlines pure."
Lucius had given Draco one final scathing look, as though daring him to question further then walked away, apparently satisfied.
The next day Draco had packed a bag.
Part of him wondered whether his father even noticed he was gone. He supposed he must at least feel some sort of disappointment that his only heir was missing. How would he further the Malfoy line if his only son was gone? Maybe it would become the Sacred Twenty-Seven once he was dead and gone.
Draco supposed he should care, but he found that he didn't. Muggles shouldn't care about the fate of pureblood wizarding families, and so he didn't. Not anymore.
A knock at the door startled him from his musings. Who could possibly want to come calling on him? He hadn't even been here a day. Hardly time to get settled. But he went to the door anyway, thinking it was probably the superintendent come to give him more papers to sign. Might as well get it over with.
He threw open the door and was met, not by the superintendent, but by a woman.
She was of medium height with straight, long brown hair that reached the curve of her back, and wore a plain blue t-shirt and jeans. She greeted him with wide brown eyes that he would have sworn faltered slightly at the sight of him, but she'd recovered quickly. Her lips twisted into a wide smile and she exclaimed, "Hello there! You must be my new neighbor."
"Indeed." Draco stared at her, immediately taken by how familiar she seemed, but he couldn't imagine why. He'd made it a point never to cross paths with Muggles before if he could avoid it.
"My name's Jane. What's yours?" the woman prompted when Draco didn't speak further.
"Draco," he replied. "Draco Malfoy."
The woman called Jane raised an eyebrow. "That's an unusual name. Can't say I've run in to too many Dracos in my life."
"It's a family name. I've grown used to it."
"I suppose you'd have to be if you had to live with it. I much prefer Jane. It may be common, but it gets overlooked, so no one looks at you twice."
Draco raised an eyebrow as he took this stranger in. "Do you want to come inside? Maybe we can debate the merits of certain names over coffee."
Jane laughed. "I don't think so. You're a stranger. I barely know you. I just wanted to welcome you and give you this."
She held out a small blue tin, which Draco accepted. He opened the lid and found a case full of chocolate chip cookies. He stared at them for a moment then put the lid back on. "Thanks."
Jane shrugged. "No problem."
For a moment the two of them stared at each other awkwardly, Draco still feeling like he'd seen this woman somewhere before. He didn't voice this suspicion aloud, not wanting to frighten her away by thinking he was some kind of stalker. She was the first person in a long time to look at him and not appear nervous because of who he was. He wanted to savor that feeling a little while longer.
"Well, I'll leave you and your cookies alone. I just wanted to let you know who I was. I'm upstairs, directly above you if you ever need anything."
She gave him a little wave then turned to go back the way she came. Draco watched her go, letting himself take a moment to fully appreciate the beauty of his new neighbor. If all Muggle women looked as she did, it was a pity he'd never taken the time to meet more.
He closed the door and went into the kitchen to put the tin on the counter. If nothing else, he'd at least have something for dinner. He knew he needed to go shopping, but he had no Muggle way of getting there, and even if he did he had no idea where anything was. He'd only ventured into Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, and other wizarding shops. His parents had certainly never taken him to any Muggle shops before.
Draco quickly decided that he'd go shopping tomorrow. He was tired and didn't feel like spending any more energy on tasks that could wait until morning.
With thoughts of Jane spinning in his head, Draco took a cookie out of the tin and ate it as he returned to his bedroom. He stuffed the cookie in his mouth then opened the loose floorboard to pull out his wand.
As he laid down in the bed he'd just conjured he promised himself that it would be the last bit of magic he'd ever do. The Muggle way of life would just take some getting used to. He'd work on it more tomorrow. For now he'd focus on sleep, everything that he wanted to accomplish the following day, and maybe getting to know Jane a little more.