"Grant my last request,
And just let me hold you.
Don't shrug your shoulders,
Lay down beside me.
Sure I can accept that we're going nowhere,
But one last time let's go there,
Lay down beside me."

I turned the radio off as soon as the lyrics hit my ears, well, more like punched them if were being picky.

Love, love, love. Crazy, stupid, irresponsible, ridiculous, inadequate, life ruining, disastrous, awful love. Why do this to me? Why did this inane radio have to play these half witted songs all about the greatness of love? Shallow, dumb witted people. Artists? Ha! I don't think so. There was Da Vinci, there was the Bronte sisters, there was Robert Browning.. And now these. These stupid 'artists' sobbing down a microphone about love and how great it is. I do not understand why people can't just tell them that there is more to life than that. I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger and squeezed my eyes shut tight. God I sounded bitter, even in my own head.

"Oi love, put the song back on!" A punter shouted from a table in the corner. I just sighed and pretended I didn't hear him. I could not be dealing with this hassle. I'd received a Howler this morning shouting at me for not replying to the 1840280984820 other letters he'd sent me. Stupid Harry, breaking my heart and then thinking that because his precious Ginny has fallen into the arms of that Zabini kid I vaguely remember he can come running back to me. I'm such a mug as well, I almost let the prat! The only thing that stopped me was his refusal to join the muggle world. After I travelled Australia without the use of any magic to find my parents I kind of fell back in love with muggle contraptions; a microwave here, an electric fan there.. Just as helpful as any magic spell.

"This court hears Draco Malfoy guilty of crimes committed against the entire wizarding world-"

"What? But-" I tried to protest but was quickly cut off.

"Which means a punishment of a six month ban from the wizarding community-"

"You must be crazy! I can't-" I tried to stand in protest but my lawyer, the most expensive one money can buy may I add, just grabbed my arm, shook his head and pulled me back down into my seat. I felt deflated, like a piece of lettuce floating in a bucket of water.

"And all magic related places." The judge finished. He then rose from his seat and moved to leave the court house; everybody around me stood, my lawyer grabbed my arm and dragged me into a standing position too. As soon as the judge had gone a quiet hubbub of noise rung amongst the stands; a lot of 'evil' witches and wizards were being taken to court since Potter took over as Minister of Magic, ten years after the war ended, but due to my status this was the most public one. I guess I got what I deserved in a way, but that didn't mean I wanted it. Having to live amongst stupid muggles for half a year? Sounded like hell on earth to my pure blood ears.

"I'm sorry we didn't win the case, Malfoy." My lawyer Eugene said as he patted my back and handed me my bag. I closed my eyes and breathed in the air of Diagon Alley, it just smelt magic. I was going to miss this place. Even the annoying Weasley twins', I mean twin's, joke shop at the top, and the annoying little mudbloods that seemed to plague the street with no shame what so ever.

And then I apparated away.

The last thing I saw was Potter laughing at me from the corner of my eye, I'd have done anything to go back and just punch the ponce right between the eyes, but I couldn't. Well, I couldn't for a whole six months anyway.

I didn't know what to do with myself, I'd have never come here by choice so I didn't know how things worked. I took my wallet out of my back pocket, Eugene had already swapped a load of my knuts, sickles and galleons to sterling or something, sounded like a bird if you asked me, but I wasn't sure about how they worked, I mean it was paper! And who was the woman on the front? Part of me wished I hadn't skived off of every single muggle studies class. Pfft who am I kidding, I'm no muggle lover. What am I supposed to do with the money though? Make a paper aeroplane out of it and fly it to the checkout or something? I mean please, invest in a bit of gold!

I wondered around the streets, no idea as to where I was heading, but the street signs told me I was in the London Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, it looked okay.

"Can I help you, sir?" A snooty looking woman asked me with her nose in the air, looking my outfit up and down as me just standing here would bring the house prices down or something.

"No." I replied with a sneer, I suppose my cape wasn't the most conspicuous item of clothing I could have worn, if only she knew how rich and powerful I was. Or used to be. Or will be again to six months. Silly cow.

I opened the door to my Camden flat and quickly lock it behind me and then hook the chain across. Throwing the keys into the bowl I marched across the tiny room and flopped down on the sofa. today had been a long day. A long, tiresome day. I pulled the orange throw across me, it might not have matched the lime green sofa but I could not care less. I'd take it over a king sized sofa with plush cushions and matching throws in Harry's house any day. It might have been small, and it might have been shabby, but to me this was home.

I had had to walk for hours before I finally found a hotel that didn't look too poor for my liking, I was used to Malfoy Manor so I could hardly help my high standards.

I walked towards the building and placed my hand in front of my ready to push the door open, or at least I assumed it was a push door seeing as it had handle to pull, only before I could touch it the door flew open! I took a few steps back in astonishment only for it to close again, another step forward to try again, and the door was once more flung open! I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

But then I realised how obvious it was. This place belonged to a wizard, and that filled me with a sense of calm; maybe they even knew who I was. Probably not though, us Malfoys don't associate with people stupid enough to show their magic off like this to the muggles, rookies mistake really.

I strode into the hotel at a brisk ace and walked up to the counter.

"Ahem." I cleared my thought to get the receptionist's attention on me and not the silly book he was reading about motor cars.

He looked up slowly, "How can I help you sir?" He asked in a strong cockney drawl.

"A room please." I stated, well it is a hotel..

"hmmmm," the receptionist mumbled as he slowly clicked away at the magic box on the counter to find his answer, how the hotel owner got away with so much use of magic I do not know but I'd definitely have to get the spell for the magic box and typey thing in front of it, "There's the king suite for £250 a night if you wish."

"Is it nice?"

"Its our best."

"I'll take it." I told him before pulling out my wallet and pouring the content of it over the counter, the receptionist just gawked at me for some reason.

"Sir, you may want to be careful flashing your cash around like that." He told me. I then hurriedly found the paper that added up to 250 and stuffed he rest into my pockets as quickly as I could. I wasn't sure what was a customary tip in this domain so I just left the one that said fifty on the front, this paper couldn't be worth that much could it. By the look on his face I had misjudged the situation so grabbed the key and ran to the stairs before he could demand a larger tip from me.

"Room 241, sir!" The receptionist shouted after me, sounding a lot more enthusiastic than before.

Dearest Hermione,

Oh please.

I understand that we may not be as close as we used to be

You got that right.

But I just want you to know that I do still care about you. In fact I care about you an awful lot. From the moment I laid eyes on you

You mean from the moment Ginny decided to jump into someone else's bed.

I knew you were the one for me, and I have loved you more and more every day since then. I miss your presence, your smell, you brain power,

Actual sex with a woman that you don't have to pay for.

Your hair, you clothes, the way you look at me

Grab me a bucket.

Anyway, I think I've said enough now

Too right

So I'll stop.

Finally.

I eagerly wait your reply,

Well you'll be eagerly waiting a while.

All my love,

All your penis.

Harry x

Twat face.

I was sat behind the bar at the Camden Arms, a small pub situation off of the Camden Town high street. It was early afternoon on a Monday and business was slow, just a few people clustered around a booth in the left hand corner who I'm pretty sure hadn't been home since the night before, they was six of them, all men about twenty and they looked like proper jack the lads. You get some colourful characters around here, its what this particular Borough is renound for, admittedly all of the towns in London are pretty diverse and unique, but none as unique as our Camden Punks and rockers. I mean every other person here has a Mohawk or pink hair, its amazing. Boys and girls alike.

"Oi!" One of the people at the table shouted and clicked his fingers. With a sigh I ducked out from behind the bar and wondered across to them with my pen and notepad.

"How can I help?" I said with a smile. The happier you are, after all, the more tips you seem to receive.

"Another round please, and six bacon sandwiches." Bacon, yep, they'd definitely been out since the night before. And another round? Yet more alcohol? Rationality told me I should refuse that particular request but the need for money and tips told me not to.

"Coming right up." I then smiled and bit my lip in a seductive manner, a bit of flirting never hurt anyone, especially not the bank balance.

London was huge, London was busy, I had no idea what to do with myself. Eugene had said something about travelling underground along with some other facts, I wish I'd listened to them now because I had no idea what I was doing. Some people then caught my eye, they were all dressed in weird clothing unlike any muggle I'd ever seen before; they must have been wizards. Wizards from a totally different social background to me though, you wouldn't find me walking around with bright pink hair, piercings all over my face and as much leather clad onto my body as humanly possible. Still, I decided to follow them. My hope was that they didn't go into a wizarding area.

So I followed them.

And followed them.

On to a bus (I'd had my experience of the night bus so I knew how to deal with it).

Off of the bus.

On to another bus.

My surroundings went from tall, Victorian looking buildings into smaller, more brown housing with the occasional huge building that just had rows and rows of identical windows. Things became a lot more colourful too, street signs, banners, little tents and market stalls.. As I stepped off of the bus about a thousand different sights and smells hit my eyes and nose. Belts at one stall, human hair at another by the looks of it, bracelets, jewellery, golds, metals, clothes, shoes, even tattoos out on the street! And the smells; leather, chocolate, brassy metal, sweat, animals, food, fish and chips, candyfloss, hotdogs, burgers.. Once one of my nannies took me out to a muggle fair ground and it reminded me a lot of that, I did actually enjoy that day but obviously the nanny was fired as soon as father realised she's taken me to a muggle event. And the people? I began to realise that those I followed weren't foreign wizards at all, they were in fact muggles. Interesting muggles. Muggles with green, pink, orange, blue, even spotty hair. Muggles that wore more denim and leather than one would ever imagine. Muggles that teamed motorbike boots and ripped tights with tiny ruffled dresses and leather jackets. And the makeup, oh my the makeup; boys and girls alike seemed to have lashings of blackness all over their eyes, lipsticks of purple, green and orange, eyebrows so dark they couldn't be natural, eyelashes so long and thick not even magic would get that effect, and then occasionally a girl or guy that was so orange I don't understand what sun they'd been sat under to get that colour. And they were much more friendly than in Chelsea, here people seemed to accept my odd fashion and some even seemed to admire it. I was used to the civilised fashion of the high society girls so this was a total shock to the system. It was madness and unlike anything you would never get in the wizarding world.

It was getting late, about nine o'clock, and there I was wondering down a quiet back street of Camden, as the street signs had told me, with a stupid grin on my face eating these strawberry lace thingys out of a small paper bag. Draco Malfoy, in a muggle setting, having a good time? I told myself it was just because I was making the best of a bad situation, and that was true. I was making the very best of it in fact, my arms were aching though, hundreds of bag handles were digging into my arms, but I couldn't help it, there was just so many interesting things to buy! I had been like a kid at a sweet shop at the market today, I told myself it was to practise the use of muggle money which made it more acceptable in my eyes. These muggles really did make the best out of what they did bearing in mind their total lack of magic and complete inferiority.

Letting my instincts take me I followed the smell of food into a small, shabby pub called the Camden Arms. The interior of the place was much like the outside; dark, dismal and slightly grimy. I wasn't surprised to find it mostly empty with only a couple tables filled with people and quiet chatter.

I wondered up to the bar only to see the barmaid with her head on her arm fast asleep. I cleared my throat and she awoke with a start.

"Sorry, sorry sir." She mumbled before jumping off her stool and buzzing around behind the bar as if she'd been doing things the entire time.

"Quite alright," no harm in being polite, I was here for six months after all and for all I knew this was the only decent place to eat, "can I have a look at a menu please?"

She handed me one quickly and took a few steps back and just stared at me, she looked like a deer caught in headlights or a fish out of water. Her lips moved but no words came out. Wow she was weird, quite pretty for a muggle though; she had bleach blonde mid-length hair, the colour like mine only more yellow instead of white and you could tell hers wasn't natural, she was petite and very skinny with deep brown eyes and very full pouty lips, she wore minimal makeup and her hair was just scraped back into a French plait, it wasn't a very good one though as most of it had come undone by the looks of it and instead hung around her face. Its weird how here she stood out for looking normal.

"'ll just have a BLT thanks." He said politely before throwing the menu back at me. With a small delay I reached forward and grabbed it before moving away again as quickly as possible. I then tilled down the order, placed it on a bill for him and then went out to the kitchen to tell our cook Pablo what he wanted. One single thought kept running through my mind 'Please don't recognise me, please don't recognise me, please don't recognise me' followed by 'why is he here, why is he here, why is he here, why in merlin's name is Draco Malfoy here!' I could hear my heart thump like the base drum to a song. In that very moment I felt eternally grateful for the box dye I'd bought just weeks before, would he have recognised me if I still had the same hair colour as I did at Hogwarts? My head was pounding as I wondered back out to the bar where he still sat, blood rushed through my veins as a pace that felt quicker than usual. I had to keep reminding myself to calm down. He didn't know who I was. It was fine.

"You don't seem very busy today." He observed casually as his fingers tapped the counter.

"No, we're a twenty four hour establishment so most of out business comes between the hours of three and eight in the morning." I told him, this place might look a bit rubbish but we had a high standards of quality and we weren't that bad.

"Why?" He asked, clearly puzzled.

"Well its when people start to get food after their night out."

"Night out where?" His brows knitted together.

"On the town."

"Why can't they just go in the day?"

I could see I was going to have to take thing slowly here.

"Not as in town to go shopping, as in out on the town. Bars, clubs, pubs, dancing, drinking, even more drinking, a bit more dancing, and a whole lot more drinking." I replied shortly.

"Oh I understand," He clearly didn't, "So why do they come here?"

"Sober up a bit, get rid of their hangovers, the usual. We're kind of well known around here as being a good place for it, most of our customers are students and things."

"What's a hangover?"

"When you drink too much alcohol and you feel ill the next day."

"Well what's the point in that?" He asked with a look of total shock on his face.

"There isn't one." I then turned around and walked out into the kitchen to retrieve his sandwich.

Malfoy left after about forty five minutes, thank goodness. The rest of the time passed uneventfully and hardly another word was shared between us. I couldn't help but wonder what had possessed him to come into the muggle world, I mean yes I loved it here, but I never had him down as a muggle hugger.

I finally got to the block of flats I called my home, my shift had finished at eleven and it was now quarter past. I was glad I hadn't had to work the night time rush.

"Alright Chelsea." Tatenda, a local teenager from the estate shouted as he swagged up to me, jeans somewhere down by his knees, I honestly do not understand fashion sometimes.

"Hey T." I shouted back, they liked to call me Chelsea due to the fact my accent was different to most of there's, apparently my accent was one that would be better suited to the Chelsea area, somewhere along millionaire's row as it was nicknamed. Ha, I wish. It was cute though, most of the teenagers here felt the need to 'protect' me due to the fact I wasn't 'Camden born and raised'. which was true to be fair. T would have looked scary to most people, the sort of person you would not want to meet in a dark alley, but in reality he was one of the nicest boys you could ever wish to meet and very wise for his eighteen years. Its what I liked about the estate though, we were all like family. One big, corrupt, occasionally law breaking family.

"'Fraid to say the lifts broked again." He said with a laugh which showed really he found it hilarious. He only lived on the second floor, I lived on the eighteenth.

"Bloody hell," I grumbled, "I best be getting off then. Maybe that way I can get home before midnight." I then walked off towards the stairs, all I could hear was T laughing behind me. Goodness know what he was going to be off doing at this time of night, but sometimes it was best not to ask.

The stairs stank here, we were like the people society forgot. Nobody cared for us. But then we cared for nobody but ourselves either. This place used to terrify me when I first got here, but now I can't imagine life without having to dodge the wet patches and needles that littered the stairs. I know people didn't like me when I first got here, I was far too posh for their liking and they thought I'd be a snob, as soon as I proved them wrong by actually being nice they accepted me. And thank goodness for that. These people have helped me through the toughest of times.

Take Chaneil for example, she lives on the sixth floor and has a thick Caribbean accent. She is like everyone's big, adoptive grandma and I don't think there was anyone here she hadn't cooked for at least once. Once when I was particularly upset about Harry I went to hers for roast dinner, she let me cry on her shoulder the entire afternoon, she didn't ask any questions either, just told me how boys weren't worth the trouble they caused. I think her and T are my favourite people in the world.

I finally reached the door to my apartment, put the key in the door and walked in, I then quickly closed it behind me and drew the chain across. I threw the key into the bowl and went to the sofa and pulled the throw across me. My life had a pattern and I liked to keep to it. In about an hour I'd make myself a quick microwave meal for tea, and then after that I'd go right to bed ready for tomorrow, another day of tedious work.

Where ever I went in the wizarding world I was made to feel unwelcome. Or when I was made to feel welcome, I could tell the feeling was fake. My parents had been like it, my teachers had been like it, society had been like it. And I was sick of it. Here, here on the other hand I don't think I've ever felt more at home. I just blend in. Nobody knows who I am and nobody particularly cares either. Don't get me wrong I can't wait to be out of here in six months, but until then I think I can just about manage.

In fact I think the only time I have been made to feel unwelcome here was when I got food in Camden; there she was, that petite blonde bar maid, flirting and joking with all the customers, and then there was how she acted with me. Like I had the plague or something. No laughter. No joking. No nothing. Just a terrified look in her eyes.

And the weird thing was? For some reason her face seemed familiar. And that intrigued me more than everything ever had before.

I am not JK Rowling, this is just me trying to see what her characters would do in different situations.

And the song at the top is also not mine, it belongs to the amazingly talented and awfully gorgeous Paulo Nutini.

Hope you like it, feedback would be amazing, Thanks!