The sky was an ominous gray.
Alone in his apartment, Draco stared out the window. Thick clouds were gathering in the sky. It was probably going to rain soon.
He thought longingly of Hogwarts. The Slytherin common room wasn't exactly cozy, but there was one window seat in the castle corridors… he had always liked to go there when it rained, sit alone, and read.
Casting his gaze across his current place of residence, he wished it wouldn't rain. There was nothing cozy in that roomy, empty space. The walls were all a vague shade of gray, similar to the sky, and there was barely any furniture. The rain only made it cold and dreary.
He thought, briefly, of Malfoy Manor, and how good it would be to return there, lie in his own bed, and listen to the rain pounding on the rooftop above.
But that was not allowed. This was his punishment, his self-imposed punishment: banishment into the world of Muggles. His wand was locked in the bedroom safe, his old school books and Wizards' robes stored away in the attic of Malfoy Manner. He had not spoken to anyone from his past in four years. Instead, he spent his days working as an accountant and his nights lying in bed, reading Muggle mystery novels and eating toast, the only thing he knew how to cook.
In truth, the life he was living was like solitary confinement. He could not remember the last time he had a conversation that was not work-related.
Filled with a sudden desire to get out of his empty apartment, he stepped out into the hallway, locked the door behind him, and headed up to the small rooftop garden.
As he stopped out onto the roof, he remembered the gray sky. The heavy clouds had cracked open, and rain was pouring down, but he didn't care. He walked out to the center of the roof, instantly drenched, and gazed out at the horizon.
A flash of color caught his eye. He turned, brushing the water from his eyes, and saw her.
Standing in the center of the roof across from him, completely soaked, was a girl in a green dress. She was gazing up at the sky, laughing, her arms outstretched. The rain was pouring down on her, but she didn't seem to care.
She looked vaguely familiar. He was certain that she was the younger sister of one of his classmates, and he thought he remembered some sort of fuss about which house she was sorted into, but at that moment, he didn't care.
He could not understand how happy and carefree she looked, alone in the rain. For several minutes all he could do was stand and watch. He knew that he should turn away. She was a part of the world he had forsaken, abandoned, after he brought about the death of so many innocents.
But he couldn't make himself do it.
And then, Draco Malfoy, who had been following his own rules for four years without a single mishap, intentionally broke his rules.
He spoke to a witch.
"Hello," he said. There was no response. Of course not. The rain was far too loud, pounding on the rooftops, drowning everything out.
"Hello!" he shouted. "Hello!"
He knew she had heard him. Her hands dropped to her sides and she turned to face him, still smiling, and he saw the recognition in her eyes. She knew him, or knew his face, just as he knew hers.
She climbed onto the ledge that surrounded the roof, and, before he could stop her, leapt across, landing lightly and gracefully on his rooftop.
"Hello," she said, smiling at him. "You went to Hogwarts."
He nodded, wondering what would happen when he told her his name. "I'm Draco Malfoy."
A flicker passed through her eyes.
"Draco Malfoy!" she said. "I—I heard that you went abroad. But you're here, in London. I think you knew my sister, Daphne. She told me you vanished."
"I think most people thought that," he said. "Daphne, you say? Daphne Greengrass? So you must be…
"Astoria," she said.
"Astoria." A sudden image appeared in his mind: A furious Daphne, pacing the Slytherin common room, raging that her sister had been placed in Ravenclaw. He had not thought about Daphne in years.
"Yes," said Astoria. "I'm visiting my dear friend Ara. She's a Muggleborn, you see, so she lives here in London." She watched closely for his reaction. If she had been expecting a sneer or a scowl, she was disappointed.
"Why isn't she with you?" he asked.
"She isn't feeling well."
Draco took a deep breath. "Please," he said. "Can you tell me what's been happening in our world?"
"You haven't had any contact?" said Astoria, surprised.
Draco shook his head.
"Of course I'll tell you," she said. "Come on, sit down."
So they sat together, in the rain, and talked about all the weddings and funerals that had taken place, who had become an Auror and who had become a Healer. Soon, however, they began to speak of other things, as the hours slipped by, and Draco found himself laughing with this clever, funny girl.
She was telling him a story about Seamus and Lavender's wedding, and he found himself staring at her, with her dark brown hair and blue-green eyes and pale skin and perfectly sculpted lips, with their gentle curve and hint of a rosy color—
And then, without warning, without a single moment of logic or reason, he leaned forward and kissed her.
For a long moment, he was uncertain to how she would react.
Then her arms were wrapped around him, and she was kissing him back, fierce and sweet at the same time, her wet hair falling around them.
When they pulled apart, she said she had to go.
They stood up.
"I hope, Astoria Greengrass," he said, "that you will tell me where I can find you again."
She looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "And what would you do if I didn't?"
"If you didn't?" He smiled. "I would spend the rest of my life roaming the skies of London, walking them day and night, without end, shouting your name, and I would keep shouting from the rooftops until I found you again."
"Not a bad answer," said Astoria, smiling. "I think I'd like to see that. I don't think I will tell you where to find me. But I think, perhaps, that if you shouted very loudly tomorrow, around three in the afternoon, I might make an appearance."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said.
"I'm sure you will," she said, and she climbed back onto the ledge and leapt lightly back onto her rooftop.
"Until tomorrow," he shouted across to her.
"Maybe," she shouted back, and then she was gone.
Draco smiled. In a moment, he knew that he would have to go downstairs, take his wand out from the safe, and send a message to his mother.
But just then, he stayed, staring out at the gray sky.
It no longer looked quite so ominous.