A/N: This is for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I'm Chaser #3 of the Wimbourne Wasps and I was to write about Beater #1's pairing which is Draco/Harry (Drarry).

Prompts:
#8: (setting) restaurant
#13: (restriction) no dialogue
#15: (word) jitterbug

New Places, New Feelings

It had once been an empty building that attracted everything except people.

Diagon Alley doesn't exactly have a reputation as being one of the cleanest places within the Wizarding World, and it does rank as the most polluted streets throughout Europe. Not sure if that's a compliment, but it's never tried to get a better rank. However, this restaurant clearly doesn't belong there.

The chandeliers glisten of either pure crystal or exquisite diamonds. The tablecloths are much too new, and the food smells gourmet. This belongs on my side of the tracks rather than the simple and disgusting side which is Diagon Alley. Of course, only my kind of people would eat here. At least, so I thought.

At that precise moment, Harry Potter decides to walk in with that filthy she-weasel attached to his arm. She is glowing and resembles that of a jitterbug with the way her red curls bob up and down to the movement of her excitement. It makes me want to vomit. If I'm lucky, I'll go unnoticed.

I watch with complete and utter distaste as the disastrous display unfolds in front of my eyes. They are both way too happy as they sit down at a table near my own, but I still manage to go unnoticed. It's not as if they would miss my blonde hair or wonderfully chiseled jawline, but some people are ridiculous in that way.

The giggle she makes as he orders one of the best champagne's on the list makes my eyes roll to the back of my head.

I flag my waiter to bring me something much stronger than fire whiskey since I'm going to be forced to watch this traumatizing display of affection. The only thing that would make this worse would be if he pulled out a box with a ring in it. Then I'd be extremely disgusted.

His green orbs positively glow from the amount of happiness that radiates from their moment of supposed love, and I just sit here across from an empty seat, with a drink in my hand.

I must look completely pathetic to be sitting here all alone like this. It had felt right to be sitting here in a suit, but since he walked in the door, it looks horrifying. How unorthodox is it to sit here without someone in this day and age?

Their food has finally arrived at their table and I suddenly realize that mine has been sitting in front of me, but for how long, I don't know. I had been too wrapped up in my own thoughts to remember what I ordered to start with.

This dish hardly seems to fit the mood. In fact, I feel exactly like the spinach sitting on my plate: cold and positively green. I do not seen my waiter to instruct him on more alcohol.

Why am I green? Jealousy. You would think that a Malfoy like myself wouldn't admit to being jealous, but we just don't admit it aloud. I can't help but sit here and wish that it is me at that table. I wish that I could sit where that dreaded girl is sitting and enjoy champagne with someone. I wouldn't mind if it is Potter or someone else, but I am jealous.

I was starting to feel better about myself and my surroundings until he walked in with his confidence and charming looks. But I can't be jealous, can I? I do have someone. Granted, I don't particularly like her and I dream that she is someone else. That sounds horrible, doesn't it? That I'm leading her on like this? Sometimes you have to do what you have to do in order not to feel lonely. I wasn't lonely tonight until I saw him. The lie I told her to get out of the mansion seems a tad silly now that I'm sitting here and wishing that I was like them.

The air around their table seems to shift to a point where it provokes me to look and see what caused, seemingly happy, silence.

The moment that I look, I wish I hadn't. My worst nightmare has come true as he kneels there, before her, with a ring resembling the chandelier above them.No, no.

I throw down some money on the table and get up to leave, but not before looking at them one more time.

She must have said yes because the embrace is far too tight and far too magical.

My head starts to spin, and then his emerald eyes meet with mine. He hasn't seen me all evening and now he finally is. There is no telling what he sees or what he makes of me, but there is no vengeance within his stare. No, there is something worse. There is sympathy.

Out of all the emotions you can give someone, the worst has to be sympathy.

I don't need sympathy. I need him. There wasn't a moment in school that I would have ever let him know that, and I don't dare let him know now.

I have to get out of here and I have to get out fast.

I just nod to them and storm out as quickly as I can.

The cold air welcomes my silent tears as I walk briskly through the not so crowded alley until I come upon a small indenture within the walls. I stop there to collect myself. What am I really collecting? My sanity is clearly on the brink of being extinct, and my feelings are all mashed together. Whether I feel sad about the current situation, or the fact that what I want can never be, I must not show emotion.

A Malfoy simply doesn't like new feelings. I am no exception.