disclaimer: I don't own anything created by J.K. Rowling.
AN: This is a follow up story to my one shot, Two Empty Shells. I think that you can defiantly understand and appreciate this story without reading Two Empty Shells, but I encourage you to read my one shot anyway.
Muggle Boy
For someone I have not met yet.
Prologue
Bus Stop
Rain spilled from the dark sky in heavy drops that splattered noisily as they hit the ground, spraying Draco's socks with icy water. The deserted black road stretched on forever in both directions like a ribbon that kept the earth tied in place. The pavement shimmered in a slimy sort of way under the single street lamp that illuminated the lonely bus stop, the wet bench, and the frightened boy sitting on it. It was a solitary bubble of light that was sure to burst from the darkness all around.
Draco was grateful for the light. He was terrified of the thought of being alone in the dark…and not being alone. He'd had enough of that for a lifetime.
Nausea swept through his insides and he found it hard to keep the memory, so fresh in his inner eye, away. He was still breathing heavily. The thin white shirt he was wearing was soaked thoroughly and clung to his sweating chest. It had become a translucent gauze and showed through to his pale skin. To steady his heart, Draco put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. That seemed to help.
Feeling angry, frightened, and sick all at the same time, the only thing that Draco knew for sure was that he was getting out! He would get out of Badger's Drift that night! Nothing could stop him from hopping on a train to London! He did not need his books and things; all he wanted was his wand.
He would find Snape and demand, even beg for his wand back. Now, more than ever before in his life, he would know exactly how to use it! Draco felt the bitter irony in the fact that now that he did not have his wand, he felt more capable in his magical abilities than ever before. Even if a swarm of his father's old allies came swooping down on him the second he had his wand in his hand, at least he would know what he was up against.
Death Eaters. Draco shivered and felt his stomach convulsing involuntarily at the thought of the Dark Lord and his followers.
Afraid to stay. Afraid to leave.
The road was silent and Draco wondered if a bus was coming at all and, if it came, if he would get on it. He recalled in the darkness how Snape had called him a coward and found himself solemnly agreeing with him.
"You are a coward." he told himself as he pulled his knees up under his chin. The sound of his voice was muffled by the violent down pour of rain.
A wave of self hatred brought tears to the corners of his eyes, but he wiped them away hurriedly. He knew that if he started crying he would not be able to stop and he had not allowed a single tear to escape his eyes since Snape's decision. So he was not about to start that now. But there was nothing that he could do about the feeling of weakness that had come onto him. He hated how driven by selfishness and fear he was, but that was not anything he could help, was it?
He was self-absorbed by nature and he had never seen that as a weakness before. Playing the hero was a Gryffindor thing; it was Potter's thing. Draco pondered over this, amazed that it could possibly be anyone's second nature to help others. For a small instant he envied Potter for his blind bravery, but that moment passed quickly. Potter was a reckless idiot.
Draco uncurled himself and leaned back against the wet bench to welcome the rain which had shrunk to a small drizzle. It had plastered his blond hair to his head so that his bangs lay against his cheeks. This was an unusual sensation to him as he usually kept his hair slicked back the way his father did.
Draco wondered what Potter, Weasley, and the Mud-Blood were up to at that very moment and realized that they were working to accomplish the same goal he was: destroy the Death Eaters and their master. He laughed as he recognized the huge shift in his goal over the past year. He had practically joined their side. How bizarre that would be, he imagined, to walk up to Hermione Granger after all the years of being enemies and say "you were right; where do I sign up"? As if his pride would ever allow him to do that!
Besides, he was not on their side. They were fighting because they thought it was the right thing to do whereas he was fighting to avenge his mother and rid himself of the Dark Lord's shadow. He was not with them or against them. Draco Malfoy was on his own side and what was wrong with that?
The problem was that Draco could not help feeling that there was something wrong with that. Why, though? He had never seen anything wrong with caring only about himself. Why should he put himself at risk to save others? Why should he put himself at risk to save Zeta?
Draco's mind took an ugly turn. His heart sped up as he remembered Zeta lying bare-chested in the dirt with her own blood pooling around her. Her eyes had been so wide and frightened as they looked to him and pleaded desperately for help. He could have saved her. His stomach convulsed again and his whole body shook with fear and sickness. She was probably still lying there, or worse. The image was so vivid that it seemed as though the clock had really turned back a few hours, forcing him to live through it again.
I could not have saved her even if I wasn't a coward; not without a wand I couldn't, Draco thought.
The important thing was that he had saved himself, right? No. That was not right. Something was eating him inside and he knew that it was guilt. He felt guilty about running and leaving her there…to die. Another rush of self-hatred flooded the fiber of his body.
Why did he care so much about Zeta anyway? She was just a Squib, even if she was pretty smart for a Squib. But they only ever brought shame onto the magical world. At least, that was what he had been taught. When did he start caring about her so much? Was it when she tried to kiss him? No.
Draco began to trace back through his memory over everything that had happened over the past few months and ended up at the beginning: when he was forced into exile as a Muggle.
AN: Readers who recognize this prologue are not experiencing deja-vu. I have rewritten Muggle Boy to enhance the reading. The story is fully written now so all I need to do is upload the chapters one by one. This story will be updated weekly; on every Wednesday you may expect the next installment. Enjoy Draco's adventure! Your feedback is important to me!