MAPPED
cette
[1/1]
Winter had come very quickly in London that year. The white snow that filled the streets gave it almost a picturesque appearance, but Draco Malfoy could hardly notice. He was heading back to his flat in Muggle London – a great surprise when he told his mother than he wished to move out of the manor. The truth was, after all that happened in the war, he could hardly look at the place. He wanted to be as far away from it all as possible, and if that meant having to live in a decidedly Muggle building, then he would have to accept his fate.
It was only a few days until Christmas, and most of the Ministry employees had their final day in office before holidays. Draco had noticed it a great deal, however, he still hadn't participated in the present exchange – no one asked, and he had only received one 'Happy Christmas', and that was from the welcome witch who didn't realize who he was. Even his boss had only reminded him to 'be back on Monday, Malfoy.'
Draco continued to walk down the street, the emptiness of it reflecting his feelings. It was the very first Christmas that he would spend alone – his parents had recently moved to France to attempt to avoid some heat, although Draco really didn't desire to see them. He continued to tread through the snow, not even bothering to pull up his hood when the snow started to fall in thick wet flakes.
"Excuse me?" A quiet voice behind him asked. Draco turned around, and half expected her to look horrified when she realized who she'd stopped. It surprised him how many people didn't even try to hide it. Instead, she looked thoughtful.
"Draco...Malfoy?" She was surprised. Her long blonde hair had managed to escape its clasp, and was flying freely around in the wind. Draco made a noncommittal grunt.
"I'll forgive you if you don't want to talk to me now. Associating with Death Eaters tends to be frowned upon." The girl looked like she understood, but shook her head anyways. Draco was surprised – more than he had been in ages.
"No... it's just that I recognize you. You were in my sister's year – Daphne?" Draco nodded dumbly. He knew the Greengrasses, but he didn't know that Daphne had a sister. In those days Draco hardly paid any attention to people he didn't consider worth his time. In those days... Draco looked uncomfortably at Astoria, and shifted his weight from left to right, trying to find a balance. He couldn't even think about old schoolmates with thinking about it all.
"Anyways, sorry to put you on the spot, but do you know where I can find this?" She passed him a piece of paper with an address on it. "I'm frightfully lost – I haven't spent much time in Muggle London before." Draco blinked twice. This couldn't be happening – he hadn't had someone speak to him like a person in years. It was as if he hadn't acted in the war, as if the scar that lay on his arm had never existed. A simple conversation, about nothing important, but it was the most significant one he'd had since it all.
Draco drew a map for her with his wand, and handed back the parchment. He stood there stiffly as she examined it, no longer sure what to do. She traced it with long fingers, muttering to herself as she went. Draco turned away – watching him gave him a chill. He felt Voldemort's touch on his skin, tracing the outline of his mark – blackening it. She smiled.
"Thank you! This is perfect." She held out her hand for him to shake, and her fingers looked surprisingly small in the gesture. Draco took it, and noticed a warm tingling that he had almost forgotten existed. "I'm Astoria by the way, I don't think you've ever met me – but I'm Astoria Greengrass. The embarrassment if you recall." She gave him a tiny smile. Draco stood stiff, as if he couldn't remember how to act in pleasant company.
"Why?" Astoria looked surprised.
"You don't remember? I was sorted into Ravenclaw. Not as bad as Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, but..." She trailed off with a shrug. Draco gave her a swift nod. At the time, he would have been with the rest of them, laughing. But now, it seemed so small – so insignificant. Astoria looked down at her parchment.
"I should be going. It was nice to meet you Draco." She touched his arm in a friendly gesture and continued down the street.
Draco stood there for a long time, frozen to the ground. His other arm rested on the spot she had touched. For the first time since the war, Draco saw a moment of what his life could have been if it had never happened. But he also saw the glimmer of hope, that one day, he might actually get there.
So this is my semi-companion piece to 'Teacups', but really it's pretty stand alone. I just think it sort of builds on the post-war Draco I see - incredibly lost. I'm actually considering now doing a sort of alphabetical guide to post war draco - or a story that's a series of one-shots of something of his life, but I haven't quite decided yet. We shall see. I hope you enjoy, and I love reviews!
