It's a Start
by Monica Fernandez
July 31st. Almost three months after the Battle of Hogwarts. Three months of silence, of calm, of peace. Three months of cleaning up what was left of their lives. As witches and wizards around Britain woke up and tried to piece together day 89 of a new era, it seemed like another inconsequential day. But Astoria Greengrass knew what today was.
As she made her way to Trafalgar Square like she did every day, it was odd how much had changed. Celebrations in the Wizarding World lasted a full month after the Battle was over, running themselves into the Muggle world with the sparks in the air and the parties all over the city. The end of the War warranted celebration, of course, but Astoria couldn't help but think about what was supposed to happen next. She had lived in constant fear of being killed, or of losing the one thing that meant anything to her, and now that everything was safe…well, she didn't know what to do about that.
And now that Hogwarts was out of commission for a while, this meant she had an extended holiday. She wasn't even finished with her schooling, didn't have any qualifications, and had no idea what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. She wasn't ready to step out into the real world, let alone a real world that was totally unfamiliar to her. A new world. The only thing that really consoled her was the fact that everyone else was starting over too.
That included the pale blonde young man sitting in their usual spot by the fountain.
"Really?" Astoria said as she took a seat next to him.
Draco Malfoy looked down at his sharp suit with a frown. "What?"
"It's the middle of summer, Draco," she said. "You don't have to wear a suit every day."
"I like suits."
"You're making me hot just looking at you," she said.
"Oh?" he replied with a smirk, raising his dark eyebrow and slinging his arm around her shoulder. "Is that so?"
She laughed and pushed him off her playfully. "Funny," she said, scrunching her nose. "No one knows you here," she said, looking around the Square. "You can stand to be a little casual."
"Fine," he said, shrugging off his jacket. "Happy?"
"Meh," she said, reaching up, loosening his tie, and unbuttoning his collar. She leaned back and admired her work with an artful eye. "Better," she said, leaning sideways against his arm. She continued her impromptu makeover, starting to roll up his sleeves, giggling against his lighthearted struggle. All was perfect until she saw the black ink of the hideous tattoo on his left forearm.
Her smile dropped and she let go of his arm as he withdrew it back to his body, the magic of the moment lost and replaced with tense awkwardness.
"Sorry," she muttered.
It was still so weird to see The Dark Mark on his arm. She had known about it for almost two years now, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.
But everything was over now. They had a fresh start. Maybe they could have that future she had always envisioned they would have.
When would seeing that Mark ever get easy, though? She hated feeling so awkward around him when it was exposed. Maybe this was why he always wore suits when they saw each other.
"How…how is your family holding up?" she asked, her voice so soft she wasn't sure it could be heard over the chatter of the Muggles and the roar of the fountain.
"They're not," he replied, his tone so icy she almost believed they were back at Hogwarts when he refused to acknowledge her existence. She wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, but she knew it wouldn't mean anything good. Time for a subject change.
"It's his birthday, you know." Maybe not the best subject to change to, she thought, five seconds too late.
"Who's?"
She hesitated, then turned her head and looked him in the eye. "Harry's," she said softly. He scowled so deeply she thought his wand might have given him a cut in his pocket or something.
"Why should I care?"
"He saved your life, Draco."
"And I should send him a birthday present for that?"
"You should do something."
"I don't have to do anything for Potter, Astoria. Just leave it."
"But—"
"I said leave it!" He sighed in frustration and stood up, walking away from her.
"Where are you going?" she called after him.
"Come on," he said without looking back. She took that as a signal to follow him, so she rushed from the fountain to his side and struggled to keep up with his long strides.
"Where are we going?"
"Can't stay there much longer. People are starting to recognize us."
"Come on, Draco. It's not like we're doing magic. They'll just think we're two teenagers on holiday. What's so suspicious about that?"
He didn't reply. She didn't push him. Since the War ended, he had been increasingly paranoid. Even though he did nothing wrong, he still was afraid he would be persecuted.
"Everyone with a Mark is being put on trial these days," he told her a few weeks ago when he insisted they stop meeting at the London Eye and switch to Trafalgar Square instead.
"You did nothing wrong. You have nothing to worry about," she told him then. She knew, though, it would take much more than words to convince him of that.
He turned a corner and started walking down a familiar street, but was he really going to stop there?
He opened the door to The Leaky Cauldron and waited for her to step inside. She hesitated.
"Are you sure?"
He sighed and shut the door, walking over to stand in front of the bookshop next door. The display showed Nicholas Sparks' latest novel, Message in a Bottle. Astoria made a mental note to stop by later and pick it up.
"I know I said I wanted to avoid everything for a while, but I can't hide forever. Besides, the Muggle world is boring me. And, quite frankly, making me a little bit sick."
Astoria rolled her eyes, trying to hide her satisfied smirk. Progress. It was slow, but it was there.
She took his hand and led him back to the magical pub, opening the door and stepping inside.
It was unusually crowded, excited chatter filling her ears as soon as she stepped over the threshold. The light from London sliced a vertical stripe through the pub which quickly disappeared as the couple shut the door behind them.
"Master Malfoy," Tom, the toothless barman, said, nodding at Draco from behind the bar. Heads turned to acknowledge his presence, and Astoria saw mixtures of relief and apprehension on the patrons' faces. Better to see Draco than Lucius, she assumed, but a Malfoy was still a Malfoy. "Per'aps a drink for you an' the miss?"
"Later," Draco replied curtly, taking Astoria's hand and leading her to the back of the pub, where the entrance to Diagon Alley was hidden.
"Anywhere in particular you wanted to go?" she asked as he tapped the bricks with his wand.
"Yes," he replied softy. "But you won't like it."
Astoria let the cryptic statement hang in the air as she watched the portal widen and expose a rehabilitating Diagon Alley. The destruction of The Dark Lord revitalized the once-deserted Wizarding bazaar, but only so much could be done in two months. Ollivander's was still closed for repairs, but Quality Quidditch Supplies was finishing its newest glittering display for the latest Firebolt upgrade, and Madame Malkin was siphoning dust off of the robes in her shop window with the tip of her wand.
Draco shrugged his blazer jacket back on and stuck his hands in his pockets, leading the way down the alley. Astoria could see the pristine marble of Gringotts in the distance and could vaguely make out people (or goblins?) on the roof, repairing the damage done by that infamous dragon escape by Harry, Ron, and Hermione just two months ago. Astoria started to wonder whatever happened to that poor dragon, but remembered reading in The Daily Prophet that a few members of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures (Charlie Weasley's name stuck out to her in that article) had managed to recapture the dragon and guide it to a sanctuary. The goblins at Gringotts were facing an inquiry at present regarding the methods they used for maximum security vaults. Served them right, Astoria thought.
As they neared the marble building, Astoria thought they were going inside, but Draco veered left and led her down a dank, derelict, but familiar alley. She knew where they were going.
The further they traveled down the dodgy alley, the more it became clear that even the death of The Dark Lord didn't eliminate the fascination in the Dark Arts. Knockturn Alley was as active as it ever was; it was the only place that remained unchanged before, during, and after the rise of The Dark Lord.
She had nothing to say. She knew why he was coming here.
She paused just before they reached Borgin and Burkes, next to a few harmless rubbish bins. Draco was several paces ahead before he noticed she wasn't beside him.
"This was where we first met," she said, gazing at the bins she clumsily knocked over two years ago almost to the day. They had known of each other before, of course. Who hadn't heard of Draco Malfoy? And she was only known as the Slytherin Disgrace; known only as the one to ignore. But they never really spoke until that day, when she found him in Knockturn Alley looking stressed and nervous. It was just after Lucius had been sent to Azkaban, and she knew he had been falling apart.
"What are you doing here?" she had asked him after she revealed herself by knocking over a bin in startled surprise.
"I might ask you the same question, Greengrass," he replied, glaring. "After all, I am not the one lurking behind rubbish bins."
"I wasn't lurking," she said defensively, choosing to ignore his first question. The truth was, she kind of was lurking. She had wandered down Knockturn Alley out of curiosity, and hid behind the rubbish bins when she heard someone coming, hoping she wouldn't be found here. But she couldn't really tell him that, so in an attempt to take the heat off of her, she turned the tables on him.
"You seem rather jumpy, Draco," she said. She was about to send some kind of snarky remark, but she never was the type to insult someone to their face, even though it was clear Draco couldn't wait to do the same. "Look," she said, noticing his limp hair and the dark circles under his eyes. She felt the defensiveness leave her body. "Are you all right?"
"Am I all right?" he asked, staring at her as if she was mad. "Am I all right? What kind of a bloody pathetic question is that? You don't know me, Greengrass, so don't even pretend to judge me. You're just a sad little girl living in a fantasy world. Maybe you should go back to it, Greengrass. You and I both know you don't belong here." And with that, he swept off down the alley and into Borgin and Burkes.
"You were an arse," Astoria said as she looked at him now. He chuckled.
"You were nosey," he countered.
"I was concerned," she corrected, stepping away from the bins and joining him in front of Borgin and Burkes. He took her hand in his and they stood there, staring at the shop. Her stomach turned at the shrunken heads and shriveled hands and cursed objects on display. "You don't have to do this," she whispered. For some reason, she felt like it was only decent to whisper.
"Yes, I do," he said. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, pushing the door open.
The floor was dusty, the air musty, and half the lights were broken. Knockturn Alley got minimal light as it is, so the lack of light in Borgin and Burkes made Astoria tempted to light up her wand. She wasn't quite 17 yet, though, so she paused to let her eyes adjust before following Draco to the back.
She didn't know where Mr. Burke and Mr. Borgin were, and she felt a little uneasy at just walking to the backroom as though she and Draco owned the place, but what was the worst that could happen? Besides, she was sure Draco had walked back here on several occasions, and if they had a problem with it, they could answer to him.
"Do you – do you want me to stay here?" she asked.
"No. I need you."
She sent him a half smile of encouragement and walked with him to the back, through a maze of piles of junk and endless sheets of parchment.
The large black cabinet towered over most of the piles of objects, skimming the ceiling. They stopped a few metres short of the box and stared at the intricate designs carved into the wood.
They never talked about that night. It was too painful for the both of them, and after everything that happened… it never seemed like the right time to talk about the big stuff. She wondered why he chose today to address this.
"I fixed it, you know," he said, stepping forward and placing his hand on the surface of the cabinet. "The one in Hogwarts. I fixed it. When no one else could, I did something. I succeeded."
She remained silent, keeping her judgment to herself.
"And then I failed."
"You didn't fail, Draco," she said.
"I didn't finish what they told me to do."
"And I'm glad you didn't! Aren't you?"
"It didn't make a difference anyway."
"Yes, it did," she insisted. "You're feeling guilty over something you almost did, but don't you think that is so much better than feeling guilty over something you actually did?"
"I was just so scared," he admitted. "Being around him, you don't know what it was like. I just…I wanted to prove I could do something."
"It's over now, okay?" she said softly, stepping forward and putting a hand on his upper arm. "It's all over. Everything. All of it. It's a fresh start." She let her arm drop and glanced at the cabinet that started and ended it all. "Let's look forward now, 'kay?" She watched him stare at the cabinet, a mixture of apprehension, fear, and regret on his face, for a few more seconds before he turned his back on it and led the way out of the shop. She wasn't sure if he got enough closure from this brief visit, but the sooner she got out of this shop, the better. It would take a while for him to live with himself, but she hoped she would be able to help him.
"You going to be okay?" she asked as they made their way out of Knockturn Alley to the brightness of Diagon Alley beyond.
"In time," he replied. They emerged back in the main bazaar and faced Gringotts, stopping in their tracks as they considered where to go next. Astoria looked up and down the street and caught a glimpse of a large purple building with orange accents. Her lips curled into a smile and she knew exactly where to go.
"Come on," she said, taking Draco's hand and steering him to the left, further down the Alley. "I think we need to lighten up a little."
Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was still the brightest spot in Diagon Alley, despite the tragic loss the family suffered in the Battle of Hogwarts. She'd been there only once, shortly after the store had its grand opening, and she had been itching to return ever since. Colorful displays occupied most of the windows, with posters that advertised U-No-Poo (though the slogan had been changed to accommodate the end of the War) and Pygmy Puffs. Nothing about the storefront gave any indication of the suffering that must be going on behind the scenes.
Draco hesitated, slowing his pace as they approached the joke shop. Astoria tugged at his arm and dragged him the rest of the way.
"Come on," she said, pulling him to the door. "It'll be fun. We need a laugh."
He rolled his eyes but didn't protest, and he let her drag him into the shop.
The shop was crawling with patrons, a welcome sight compared to the emptiness of Borgin and Burkes. She recognized a few familiar faces from Hogwarts: Natalie MacDonald, Lisa Turpin, Stewart Ackerley. But she didn't see any heads of ginger hair. Her stomach flipped with a mixture of relief and disappointment. On one hand, she wanted to offer her condolences to George or any other Weasley family member she might meet, but on the other, she had no idea what to say. She wasn't exactly best mates with the Weasleys, though she was friends with Ginny. Her eyes scanned the shop for anyone else she might recognize when she spotted Angelina Johnson in dark maroon employee robes. If anyone would know where George was, it would be her.
"I'll be right back," she said to Draco. "Don't destroy anything," she added, leaving him with a kiss on the cheek. "And smile! It's good for you."
She walked over to Angelina and waited patiently while she helped ring another customer up.
"Hi, Angelina," she said, stepping forward with a friendly smile. She hoped Angelina would recognize her; it had been a while since they last spoke, but they had been familiar enough at Hogwarts after Astoria got her foot stuck in one of those trick steps on the staircases and Angelina was the one to help her out.
"Astoria," the black girl said with a smile. "Good to see you. How've you been?"
"Eh," she said with a shrug. "Hanging in there. How is he?"
Angelina sent her a sad smile, knowing full well who she was talking about. "Not so well, actually," she admitted. "I said I'd handle things over here until he was ready."
Astoria nodded. "I can't even imagine what he must be going through."
The two girls exchanged sad glances, and silence fell over them as Astoria considered what to say next.
"And how are you doing?" she asked.
Angelina shrugged just like Astoria did. "Getting by. There's nothing left to fear, you know? We just have to pick up the pieces." Astoria saw Angelina glance over her shoulder. Astoria turned and saw Draco perusing the shelves, expressionless. "How's he doing?"
Astoria turned back to her Gryffindor friend. "He's picking up the pieces," she said. She looked over her shoulder at him again with a small smile. "I'd better go," she said, facing Angelina once more. "Take care, okay? And send George my love."
"I will. You too, eh?"
They parted with mutual smiles and Astoria met up with Draco as he was crossing the floor in front of the Love Potion display.
"You sure you didn't slip some of this stuff in my pumpkin juice two years ago? I heard it gets stronger with time," he said, nodding to the gaudy pink display with a playful smirk.
Astoria chuckled. "You caught me," she said. "Looks like I'll have to use a Memory Charm on you when we get back."
He chuckled, and it was nice to see him smile. He kissed her on the forehead before stepping back and handing her something.
"Here. You can send this to Potter."
Surprised, Astoria looked down and took the package from his hands.
It was a Punching Telescope.
She looked at him with an expression that screamed "Really?"
"It's a gift, what more do you want from me?" he asked. "Now send it before I change my mind."
Harry, Astoria wrote in the post office twenty minutes later, Draco's Punching Telescope and her own present of Wildfire WhizBangs wrapped in brown paper nearby,
You may be surprised to hear from me, as we never really spoke at Hogwarts, but I'm just writing to wish you a happy birthday. Hope you're doing well. Thanks to you, we're all looking forward now.
Sincerely,
Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy
PS: I was surprised when Draco agreed to get you something as well. I'm sure you can tell which parcel is from him. Be careful! Sorry about that. But it's a start, right?
She read over the letter twice and, after finally deciding it was sufficient enough without being too rude and sparse or overly affectionate and creepy, she sealed the envelope, attached it to the parcels, and attached the parcels to the leg of the nearest available owl. She paid the postal worker for their service, and watched as he walked the owl to the window and let it fly.
She walked out, met up with Draco, and together they walked down the alley, hand in hand, as the owl flew above their heads and disappeared into the sky.