The streets

Telling her story

AN: This was originally a one- shot but then I decided to break it up into smaller chapters. It has not been changed or edited in any way at the moment.

The graffiti next to where I huddled was splashed all over the gloomy wall; the offending piece of vandalism spelling out: 'Blaise is king of the streets'. I laughed to myself as I read the colourful tag. He was a king. I was a peasant. Look where I ended up. Shivering, homeless and completely broke, having to rough it out on the streets.

People pass by me and give me looks of disgust. I don't blame them. Who wants smile at someone like me? I look like hell with my old scraggy clothes and messy hair. I don't have any shoes and my only possessions are items that I have managed to find in the rubbish bins that litter the streets. I suppose I look like a washed up drug addict/ prostitute to passersby.

I recognise a lot of people that walk by. Many are from school from when I was younger. They're usually out with their families shopping. The husband holding his lovely wife's hand and their perfect children running ahead laughing like children do. They all seem happy and have a good life. I always think to myself that I could have had that, but the unfortunate string of circumstances in my life lead to my demise.

Today though, there was a different atmosphere on the streets on Diagon Alley. Well since Diagon Alley had expanded over the years and now contained several streets, it was now known as Diagon Crossing. This didn't make that much sense but someone had told me that no one could come up with a better name. I live in the Wizarding World where people possess extraordinary talent in magic and no one could come up with a good name? To me that was pretty sad.

Today Diagon Crossing had hundreds of colourful decorations adorning the streets. Thousands of witches and wizards had lined the pavement and were cheering as a parade of some sort danced down the middle of the street. I had no idea what date it was, however I already knew what they were celebrating.

When I saw who was riding in the float on the front, my hunch was correct. There they were. Smiling and waving to the crowd, their families by their sides. It was the two remaining members of the golden trio, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. I glimpsed Harry's wife Ginny hugging Lavender who was probably Ron's wife. The children of both families were throwing confetti onto the sidewalk into the screaming crowd. The day was the annual celebration of Voldemort's fall from power and the day for remembering all the people who were killed in the final battle.

The parade would continue on until they reached the marble stone in the middle of the crossing, where all of the streets joined together. Then Harry and Ron would light the flame on top of the stone to commemorate all those who had died and everyone would join in a minute's silence. The names on the stone would flash a bright purple to signify the bravery of those who sacrificed themselves for the future of the wizarding world and the ones they loved. Then the ministry of magic personnel would let off magical fireworks that lasted the remainder of the day and most of the night. People would dance and sing in the streets, its many restaurants and cafe's overflowing. The next day all the shops would be shut out of respect for the dead and everyone would enjoy another public holiday.

The street I was on never had anyone celebrating on it due to the fact there were only office buildings in grim shades of grey. I had chosen my place well as I was very unlikely to be disturbed. Not that anyone would do that anyway.

The parade moved off down the street, its many people dancing along to the cheerful music. Eventually the music was only a tiny sound in the distance. It funny how much people change over the years. A long time ago I would have thought that Harry and Ron would never have agreed to do a parade, but I guess people change. Just like I have, I thought. I sighed and pulled the old moth eaten rug that I had found around me. The thin material did hardly anything to warm me up.

I was debating to myself whether or not to go and see if I could find some food, when I heard another person walking along the street. Probably someone who was late for the celebration, I thought. They didn't seem to be in a hurry though, they were walking quite slowly. The figure walked near to where I was sitting. It was a man with silverly blonde hair and deep grey eyes. He was tall and muscular and looked like he made a lot of money judging by the robes that he was wearing. His face that had been hidden in darkness moments before was now exposed as the light of a streetlamp shined upon him. I recognised him immediately. It was Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy had been on Voldemort's side in the war. Not because he agreed on what Voldemort was doing, but because he would be killed if he didn't join the death eaters. During the final battle though, he turned to our side and fought bravely. After the battle he was awarded a medal for helping to defeat Voldemort and became another famous wizard in history. He was friends with Harry and Ron even though they had been arch enemies in Hogwarts School. I think he ended up as head of a department in the Ministry of Magic but I'm not sure. During that time was when I first landed on the streets.

As he passed me, my flimsy rug rubbed against the wall making a rustling noise. He looked over at me and for some strange reason he stopped. He had a curious look on his face and his eyes were narrowed in what looked like to be recognition. He can't recognise me, I thought. No one recognises me except for the other people who live on the streets. Other people I know from school don't recognise me.

I sat there silently looking back at him. He crept closer his eyes narrowing even more as he saw what I properly looked like. I bet he'll run for the hills soon, just like everyone else. When he got close enough to see my face his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"It is you!" He exclaimed.

I didn't answer. Why should I? I wanted him to go away and leave me alone.

"What happened to you?" he asked me quietly.

I had never heard him use that tone of voice before. He actually sounded concerned.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"Why should I?" I replied in spite of myself. "All through Hogwarts you were mean and cruel to me. You may be different now to everyone but to me you'll always be the same."

He sighed and ran a hand through his shiny hair.

"That was a long time ago and frankly I can't say that I'm very proud of what I did. I am sorry you know. But I already apologised to you and your friend's years ago. Now tell me. What happened to you?"

"Why should I tell you my freakin' life story? It's not as if anyone wants to hear it. To everyone in the wizarding world, I no longer exist. I'm actually officially dead. I'm just a memory of what happened all those years ago. Part of the wizard hero's Harry and Ron's past. I'm not important. People don't even recognise me when they pass by me. How did you?" I said.

"Recognise you, you mean?"

"Yes".

He smiled. "Your expression gave it away. All through Hogwarts I saw that expression when you were upset." He frowned as he remembered: "Considering it was me who made you upset in the first place."

"Oh", was all I said.

The wind blew again and I shivered, wrapping the rug around me tighter to try and get a bit warmer. Malfoy noticed this and took off his cloak and gave it to me. I looked up at him in surprise.

"Take it. You look like you need it."

"Thanks," I mumbled and put it around me. I instantly felt warmer and smiled up at him.

Wow, this has been the most smiling I've done in ages, I thought.

"You know what? I'm taking you back to my flat." On seeing my face he laughed and said: "Oh don't worry, I'm not going to do anything to you! You look like you need a shower, a new set of clothes, a pretty big meal and someone to talk to. And I'm not taking no for an answer."

He smiled down at me and held out his hand for me to take. I accepted after thinking about it for a few seconds. What harm could it be? It's not like it could get any worse, I thought. He helped me to my feet and didn't let go of my hand.

"You feel so cold! Best get you back to my place quickly, eh?"

He led me along the street, the wind blowing my hair and messing it up even more.

"My place isn't far just outside Godric Street in the muggle part of London."

We walked along in silence, his hand still clutching mine, until I asked something that had been bothering me for awhile.

"Why are you helping me?"

He looked at me and said looking straight into my eyes: "Because I know that Hermione Granger wouldn't end up on the streets for no reason."

Malfoy's flat was a nice one bedroom place with an old fashioned look about it. He had a comfy leather sofa in which I plonked myself down on after having a relaxing shower. It was the best shower that I'd ever had in my life! Just being able to wash away all that dirt and grime that covered my body brought me peace within myself. My hair was finally detangled and now fell in soft curls that framed my face. Malfoy had provided some new clothes for me: a pair of black stockings, a dark purple long sleeved mini dress, a warm black coat and stylish flat black ankle boots to complete the outfit. I felt as if I was dressing up to go out and model on the runway. He gave me a huge bag of clothes as well to take with me. I was amazed by his generosity. He certainly was a changed person.

"Where did you get all these clothes Malf-I mean Draco?"

He had insisted that I call him by his first name which felt a bit odd after all these years.

"Oh. Um, they were my late wife's", he said quietly looking down at the floor.

"I'm so sorry Draco," I said, annoyed at myself for judging him.

"It's alright. It happened about three years ago. She was killed in a muggle car accident," He said sadly.

"Oh," was all I could think to say. "Why was she in a muggle car?"

"She was a muggle. You see, I met her at a coffee shop in muggle London and we hit it off pretty much straight away. We were married within a year and less than two years later she died. She was with her sister driving back to London from her parent's house in Reading. They were hit head on by a truck. They didn't have a chance and were killed instantly. I was supposed to be going to visit their parents too, but the ministry called me into work that day and instead of saying that I was busy, I agreed to go in. So instead of them both safely appariting with me, they drove instead. I could've prevented them from dying but I went into work instead. So now here I am. I'm 27 and I'm a widower."

Draco must have really got over the whole mudblood thing, I thought. Wow, who knew that he could change so much?

"Draco I'm so sorry. But by the sounds of it there was nothing that you could do. Don't beat yourself up about it," I said to him quietly.

"Don't beat myself up about it? What about you? Look at yourself! You were living on the streets when I found you! Obviously something bad happened in your life that you couldn't deal with and you felt so sorry for yourself that you just gave up! I thought that you were smart! Ha! I bet it was the fact that Ron left you for Lavender right? And your perfect little world came crashing down! Well let me tell you this Hermione, you're not the only one with problems!" He shouted.

I was hurt by this. I wasn't just living on the streets because of Ron. I wasn't as dumb and as self centred as that. Tears stung my eyes and I looked down at the floor embarrassed. Draco was panting after his outburst. Upon seeing my face though his expression changed from anger to guilt.

"Hermione I'm sorry. I never should have said that. I was just angry that Stacey died and I just- I just lost it. I'm sorry," He finished.

"It's ok", I said in a small voice. "Did you seriously believe that I would give up on life because of Ron though?"

"Well, I don't know. I can't exactly say that I know you very well."

"That's true. Well I can assure you that it wasn't just because of Ron."

"Do you trust me Hermione?" Draco asked.

I looked into his eyes that seemed to be a shining grey mist. I knew my answer straight away.

"Yes".

"Tell me your story. I've told you mine and now it's your go. How about you tell me over dinner?"He indicted the table in the kitchen set for two.

"OK," I replied and walked over to the round table.

Draco pulled out a chair for me and I sat down, placing a napkin on my lap. It felt strange but comforting to be able you use my table manners again. He brought two streaming bowls of pumpkin soup over and placed one in front of me. I waited until he sat down and then we both began to eat. Although I was starving hungry, I reminded myself that I couldn't eat like a pig and that I had promised to tell him my story. I tried to start eating slow, but it was so hard.

Draco seeing my distress said: "How about I talk for awhile and you eat?"

"That would be great," I replied and eagerly started eating a bit faster.

Draco talked about his job as head of the department for Magical law enforcement at the Ministry. I think he noticed how I twitched when he talked about his job and then discussed mundane things such as Pansy Parkinson still trying to get Draco to fall for her. After dinner, Draco cleared the plates away and steered me to the lounge room again. We sat down on his comfy sofa and I proceeded to tell him my story.

"Well it all started two years ago to this day..."