Hey everyone,

Firstly, thank you so much for the lovely response to my first fics! It's so inspiring when people are so kind, I'm going to try to upload more within the next few days.

This one is a Muggle AU Dramione I wrote a while ago, it's not very long but I was inspired and quickly wrote it down.

Enjoy!

For the first time in what felt like years, he had finally caught a break.

A small smile of relief tugged at the man's face as he leant back into his seat and let his eyes roam the countryside that sped past the window. He was on a train travelling west from London; it was the beginning of an evening that he had entirely to himself, listening to music that he loved.

This sort of occasion was unusual for Draco. He'd grown up in the spotlight as the son of an entirely ruthless, yet successful businessman. He'd taken over the family business a few months prior and he'd not had a second to himself ever since. The complexities and delicate relationships which were so important to it's survival where completely new to him, but Draco was determined to both learn and revolutionize them all within the next few years. The business under Lucius Malfoy was both efficient and harsh, both profitable and greedy. Draco was positive that he wanted to change the image, but having his father's reputation clouding his own made it extremely difficult, especially as he was so new to the game.

The sun outside the train was only just starting to set, bathing the surrounding trees in a cool comforting light. The sound of the wheels thudded softly beneath the carriage and the refreshing calm this atmosphere provided had never been more appreciated.

There were only a few other passengers within his carriage, and even fewer, he presumed, who were travelling to the same destination. Other than the lady who sat at the adjacent table and the elderly couple who sat a few rows behind him, there were no others within speaking distance, and all enjoyed the peaceful solitude this brought.

Draco was on his way to a violin recital outside the city. It was being performed in a modest Victorian home situated in the centre of miles of public woodland. The home itself was owned by an acquaintance of Draco's, and it was only due to this that he had heard that the event was taking place at all.

The violinist he was going to hear was not exceedingly well-known, but played with such beauty that she had quickly become one of Draco's favourites. He had only ever heard her play once, and had never seen her face, but having caught her name he was determined to listen to her once more.

It had been during a weekend in Edinburgh just before his life had got so busy, when the sound of a violin could be heard echoing melodically down the steep streets. It was played so softly and soulfully, with such grace and patience, that he instantly began to follow the sound. Thinking back now, he wished he could have walked just a little faster as he might have seen her before she left, but by the time he arrived where she had been, she was long gone. He must have looked quite sad at having missed her because an elderly scottish voice spoke out from next to him.

"Beautiful wasn't it?"

He turned to look to his right. The voice has come from a short lady who was sitting under a colourful felted quilt on a nearby bench, her expression one of sympathy.

He smiled sadly, "The most".

The lady nodded in understanding.

"They call her Helen."

"Helen?" he said, sitting down on the bench next to her.

She nodded once more. "It's probably not her real name, but no one knows anything else about her. I only saw her once before, but I never forgot her face. She's a beautiful child."

Having nothing more to say, but enjoying the afterglow of Helen's music, they both sat in silence as they watched the sunset light up the city below them.

Since that day he had been searching for her, but it had all been fruitless. Only through a casual word to a friend did he hear of a performance she was due to do on this particularly evening in May.

From what he'd gathered, she never performed in large venues, only in those places which she felt pulled to play in, like a street in Edinburgh, or a quaint restaurant in Newent. Due to the sporadic pattern of her playing, she was immensely difficult to track down, which was why this evening was all the more special.

It was a tickling sensation in the back of his nose which brought him back out of his thoughts.

He leant forward from his seat bringing a tissue to his face to cover the sneeze as it caught him by surprise. He was about to fall back into his thoughts when the lady at the table next to him spoke.

"Bless you"

The woman looked about Draco's age, and had long curly brown hair which was loosely hung over her right shoulder with a colourful felted band. There were books and sheets of paper cluttering her table, which she was only now looking up from, having been focusing on them throughout the trip.

"Thank you" he responded.

She smiled at him kindly before looking back down in front of her at what she was studying, and continued as they had before.

A few minutes before the train stopped Draco retrieved a small ticket out of his bag and fiddled with it while waiting. It was plain white, with only the date at the top and two other small lines of text written in the bottom left hand corner.

Helen

MALFOY 023

He was one of the last to book, being the 23rd out of 26, but he was not at all surprised at there being such a small audience. With her being the sort to busk in the street by choice, he would be shocked if she had advertised it more. At first he had been confused by the existence of a ticket at all, as she never seemed to play for money, but he guessed that they were only for the purposes of knowing the number of people coming, for the sake of the host.

The train slowed into the station and he slid the ticket into his trouser pocket, picked up his jacket and walked down the corridor of the train towards the doors.

The brown haired lady spent a minute longer packing up her things than he did, collecting the manuscript she had been transcribing and organizing it quickly before she left. Unbeknownst to Draco, she had also slid a ticket of her own into the pocket of her jacket. It looked similar to his, plain white with two simple lines of text. It was for the same concert, for the same date and place, but it was different in one fundamental way.

Helen

GRANGER Performer

I'm thinking of continuing it by a few chapters, would you guys want that?

Thanks, and as always, let me know what you think!