i. She moves like she don't care. Smooth as silk, cool as air.
It's a night like any other. He's sitting in a dingy bar in the less frequented (by upstanding citizens) area of town, downing drinks like they're water whilst contemplating his own sad life. It never used to be like this, he used to be together. He used to be determined, ambitious and he just knew. That's what he misses the most, the knowing. Lately, Draco hasn't been sure which way is right or left.
He's been alternating between this bar, and the few others in the accompanying streets the past three weeks. Each night, the hours seem to tick by at an agonising pace as he waits to return to work. He hasn't been home in a long time – that may be due to the fact that he doesn't really have one.
Yes, Draco Malfoy, the infallible, is homeless. Draco Malfoy, the rich bastard that owns the first Wizarding electronic company, has no bed to return to at night. He's been sleeping in his office from about 6-10, and then he rises to do some work. His secretary is suspicious, he knows that, but it's none of her business and in reality, Draco couldn't give a shit about what she thinks.
With a glance around, he see's that the bars a little more full than usual. Given it's a Friday, he knows that that's natural. Since he's been coming here, the only time the population of the place rises above four is on the weekend. Tonight, due to the promise of cheap drinks and other promotional offers, there's a few students in the corner and more than a couple of men at the bar. There's a few women scattered in the booths as well. He doesn't understand why any self-respecting person would come here, being honest. The bar itself is falling apart, he having splint himself on the wood four times just tonight. The lights in the far right corner flicker ominously – and irritably – throughout the evenings and nights while the remaining ones exude only enough light to throw a shadow on whatever lies beneath.
The glasses are so old and disgusting that he inconspicuously performs a quick spell on them each time, only to make himself feel a little better. He is still Draco Malfoy, after all. Even if he has nothing of true value left.
That said, he'd never give up his fortune and would most likely just put himself in the ground if he was poor to top all of this off. He may look like a collected wreck sitting in that bar, on weekdays being the only civilised looking person there, but his life and head is a mess. Draco's not sure how he let everything get so far away from him, how he allowed things to spiral out of control. At this point in his thoughts, Draco decides to cut himself a little slack. He didn't see anything spiral out of control. That's the problem, she says. She says he's disconnected. Distant. Selfish.
How could she be so selfish?
Draco's train of thought his called to a half when a string of wolf-whistles echo through the bar. The quiet ones are glancing towards the door appreciatively, and he turns so his back his no longer to the person. Recognition hits him immediately, because she's constantly here on the weekends. He studies her as she approaches the bar.
Her head his held high, and her body language doesn't convey discomfort or annoyance in any way. Her shoulders are back, strut in place and her smile is coy. Her dress is inappropriate by all means. (He supposes that's why she gets so much attention.) She flickers her eyes towards the leering men and offers them a wink and suggestive smile, but then turns to the bar man. She's quiet in her order making him unable to hear what she asks for – he wants to know out of curiosity. Obviously.
Her dark hair falls temporarily over her face, however it's not left there long as she flicks it back. The shine on it almost leads him to disbelief because as he has mentioned, the lighting is so awful. How could her hair produce such a shine? She glances at him, Draco being only two seats away and the middle seat empty, but he doesn't react. She's only a temptress, and has no interest in absolutely anyone in the bar. (She's not even stunningly pretty, she just has that je ne sais quoi.) She's one of those women who come to places like this for an ego boost.
He wishes he could say that with more confidence. The reason being, he's seen her four times here now. From the looks of things, he ponders as she leaves the bar with one drink (scotch) and goes to sit in the 'VIP' area, he's the only one that notices. Notices that after her strong and powerful entrance – so full of confidence and allure – she sits alone in a secluded booth until closing time, drinking herself into a coma.
~*~*~
A/N:Alright ladies and gentlemen, my foray back into the world of Potter! Yayy! I've been dying to write this for ages now and just decided today 'oh, to hell with it' and got writing. I've no chaptered plan, and no further writing, but I figure for once I'll just got with the flow. I know where I want it to go, and I know the details. Don't own HP or "Maria" by Blondie, which the chapter title is from.
Also, it may seem like the woman character here is a Mary-Sue. Rest assured, she's not. As far as I'm aware, you have to tick all boxes to be one of those and we've only seen her looks! In addition to that, Draco did mention she's not like Jessica Alba pretty, she's just incredibly confident and dresses a little suggestively. I've also three ongoing stories now, but I've set time aside for writing (It's strange being organised! Haha) so I'll update as much as possible. I considered making this into a Draco/Hermione, but I'd like to stick with an OC for now. However, I may do a D/Hr version in the future if there is a severe lack of attention here. Anyway, thanks for reading folks! Hope you enjoyed, and I'll try update again this weekend. Definitely today or tomorrow actually. Reviews are loved!
CN