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The sound of a muggle alarm clock woke him out of his troubled sleep and, silencing it with a flick of his wand he thanked the God's that he had remembered to cast a silencing charm on his door. Throwing off the covers and rolling out of the small bed, he started to shiver as the cold morning air hit his thin body. He opened the shutters on his window and looked out over the square below. It was still dark and silent in the early morning hours but he could already see a light flickering in the little old bakery across the street.
Draco quickly and silently made his way out of his bedroom and into the bathroom across the hallway. Turning on the shower, he caught sight of his figure in his mother's tall mirror. He noted the subtle forming of muscles in his shoulders and arms, a sign of all of the early mornings working alongside the little, old woman in the bakery. He had found that the physical exertion of rolling and kneading bread by hand was a welcome therapy after all of those years of doing nothing. With only one wand between the three of them, and several refusals from different wand makers had left them feeling stripped and poor. They still had gold but, only enough for them to get by.
After the outcome of the war their family had fled to France, settling in an extremely modest cottage in the most rural of villages. Since then Draco had been rising early to start work in the local bakery; earning just enough muggle money to keep them fed. The rest of their gold had been taken from Gringott's and placed in an enchanted bag held by his mother at all times. It was for emergencies only as there was hardly enough left, after the house to sustain any of them for longer than a month. His mother was paid little, working as a florist in the main town and his father was too broken to even crawl out of bed most days so it had come down to him, Draco to earn the family's income.
The blonde stepped under the shower; revelling in the warm water that cascaded over his shoulders. He quickly washed and got out, wrapping a towel around his waist before heading back to his room to get dressed. He pulled on a pair of muggle jeans and a loose, checked shirt, remembering to get a clean apron out of his cupboard before heading downstairs and out of the door.
Draco jogged across the square, his blonde hair shining in the moonlight and his footfalls, echoing off of the surrounding houses. He knocked three times on the old wooden door and greeted his mentor as she opened up for him to enter the warm kitchen. The smell of already baking bread hit his nose and his stomach rumbled noisily. The woman gave him a half reprimanding look before throwing him a warm roll from one of the wooden baskets that surrounded the stone tiled room. He grinned as he accepted the fresh bread and thanked her in perfect, fluent French. He pulled on his apron before grabbing a white skull cap that was hung by the door. He smoothed his damp hair back, pulled on the hat and took a large bite out of the soft roll in his hands. The old woman handed him a fresh coffee and he felt his affection for her grow in his stomach.
"Dix minutes." She said. "Ensuite, vous commencez à travailler."
"Oui Madame." Draco replied, with a small grateful smile. He sat up to one of the wooden benches and finished his breakfast before rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands. He grinned as the woman slammed don a huge ball of dough on the bench in front of him and he started to punch and knead the dough; feeling his tiredness and frustration slowly ebb away.
Translations;
Dix Minutes - Ten minutes.
Ensuite, vous commencez à travailler. - Then, you start work.
Oui Madame. - Yes Ma'am.