DISCLAIMER: I do not, and will not ever, own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. I don't make any profit from this - it's just for fun. Any recognisable characters/places etc. belong to their respective owners.

Draco Malfoy was late, and Malfoys were never late.

His mother had made him swear he would meet her today at exactly half past 2 – it had been almost a year since their last face-to-face meeting – but he'd completely forgotten until about ten minutes ago. He'd just finished a year away in America, assisting with pioneering studies into combining Muggle chemistry with Magical potion making, and honestly he'd been grateful to leave Britain for a while – he found that people stared less when they didn't know (or assume to know) every little thing about him. Plus, learning about something he hadn't been permitted to explore before appealed to his academic side.

Draco allowed himself a wry smile as he walked, picturing his father's face if he ever came to know his own dear pureblooded son had come to respect and even admire Muggle science – he was probably rolling in his grave, he thought to himself. With Lucius having died a few years back, Draco and his mother had been allowed a freedom that they had never had before – mother could throw parties without having to run every detail by father for him to scrutinise. She could even have friends over if she wished, though the fallout from the war had left them with fewer friends and more… people who wanted to stay on their good side. And Draco, who was now no longer locked away in his father's shadow, had passed the Malfoy family business (which had been bequeathed to him) to one of his numerous uncles. This had allowed him, for the first time in his life, to pursue something he was actually passionate about.

As he came closer to the restaurant where his mother was waiting, he looked around at the people he was rushing past. Some ignored him, too absorbed in their own lives. Some stared at him as if trying to place him. But most, he was unsurprised to note, looked at him with a mixture of confusion and contempt, as if they were thinking to themselves 'where has he been?', followed by 'how dare he even come back!'. Draco didn't give two hoots about what anyone thought of him though – as far as other people's opinions went, he only cared about his mother's and his closest friends'.

I really have to see them all soon he thought to himself as he reached the entrance of the restaurant his mother had chosen. He suppressed a scoff when he realised that, despite his mother's insistences that she was branching out, she had picked the most upmarket place in the whole of wizarding London. She never was one for change. He stepped inside and was greeted by a very nervous looking waitress.

"M-mister Malfoy?" she asked squeakily.

He raised an eyebrow at her as if to say 'do you really need to ask?', and she squeaked once more, nodded and told him to follow her. When they reached the table where his mother was sat, Draco was reminded of just how statuesque she really was.

A picture of sophisticated beauty, Narcissa Malfoy greeted her only son with a warm yet reserved smile and thanked the fidgeting waitress. He looked his mother over, checking for changes since he had last seen her, and was unsurprised to find that she had barely aged. Her silvery blonde hair was tied up into a simple yet elegant bun, and her face seemed to glow in the afternoon light that was filtering through a nearby window. It was her smile he noticed most thoutgh – it was nice to see her happy.

Once the waitress had left and Draco had settled into his seat, Narcissa spoke.

"Draco, darling, how are you? I can't believe it's been almost a year since I last saw you in person, I missed you so much! How was America? Have you been eating well? You look awfully thin; I hope you weren't working too hard over there."

Draco smiled at his mother's breathless and relentless fussing, and remembered just how open and uninhibited she was when it was just the two of them. He decided there and then that he had missed her far too much.

"I'm fine, honestly, you shouldn't worry yourself. I'm a big boy now; I can take care of myself perfectly well," he said in a playful, haughty voice; but then he dropped the silliness and said quietly, "I just wish I'd visited you more often. Was it okay being on your own? I know in your letters you said you were fine but…" he trailed off.

"Oh Draco don't be silly, you were doing your own thing and I was doing mine." She said matter-of-factly. "Did us both good I think. And don't worry about me being alone – I went to visit some very old friends of mine over in France. Lovely home they had, just beautiful. And a daughter too… I thought maybe you and her might like to –"

"Mother," he interrupted sharply. "Not going to happen. I do not need, nor do I want, any kind of relationship at the moment – if ever. So drop it. Please." He knew he'd sounded touchy and irritable, but he didn't really care. He was sick of everyone always going on about suitors and relationships and – Merlin help him – soulmates. What a load of crap, he thought.

Sure, he'd had his fair share of experience with girls back in his school days, but that was more due to raging hormones and close proximity. That had all taken a backseat after sixth year anyway, when he had been well and truly roped into the plots and schemes of a nasally challenged psychopath who had threatened his family and then took over their home. His path had been laid out for him since childhood – brainwashing and conditioning him to follow in his father's footsteps. That was why he was one of the many people of his generation who had refused to get stuck in with all this soulmate nonsense – it felt too scripted, too staged… too much like they weren't actually the ones in control.

So Draco mostly ignored the little numbers on his finger. He wanted to decide something for himself for once.

Narcissa Malfoy was watching her son intently as he thought to himself. Being an intelligent woman, she quickly linked his extended silence and the topic of their discussion, and before she could even try to stop herself a sly, trademark Malfoy smirk had taken over her normally demure features - much to Draco's annoyance.

"What," he asked irritably, "are you grinning about now?"

Going straight for the kill, Narcissa said forcefully "Let me see your hand."

Draco scowled. He'd hoped to avoid this particular scenario – his mother would be unbearable once she found out he had just less than 2 days left. However, she'd never forgive him if he didn't at least tell her that one of the most important days of his life (according to her anyway) was nearly here. He growled deeply and thrust his hand across the table at her, already anticipating her reaction.

When she saw, she gasped and practically squealed, but reined in her excitement because Malfoys don't squeal in upmarket establishments.

"Oh how exciting!" Narcissa gushed. "How did you not tell me earlier? You can stay over at the manor the night before so that I can make you look presentable on the day! Merlin, this is such good news – I can't believe it's so soon – you only turned 21 just this past year! Do you think it could be someone you know? Imagine that – it is possible after all. Oh Draco this is just so –"

"I won't be acting on whatever happens. I may not even leave the Manor that day." Draco deadpanned, interrupting his mother for the second time that day.

Narcissa's face went from shocked to angry to just plain confused in the space of about a second. Suddenly, she turned stern and strict – like she was reprimanding a five-year-old for bad behaviour.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy. Even if I have to drag you outside myself, you will meet whoever it is you are destined to meet, and you will be pleasant to her – or him – just like I taught you."

Draco made to answer back, but the look in the woman's eye told him that it wouldn't be wise to do so. Instead, he sighed deeply, scowled a moment longer and then picked up the menu. As if on cue, a waiter arrived to take their orders, and Draco decided to drop the subject entirely – there was no convincing Narcissa one way or the other once she had set her mind on something.

The rest of the meal passed rather uneventfully, as mother and son caught each other up on the past year of their respective lives. Draco's dread eased somewhat, until they were back on the busy road outside of the restaurant and he looked down at the glowing numbers he wished with all his heart didn't exist.

01:20:16:13…12…11…10…

Sighing, he linked his arm through his mother's and led them both back down the road, his head in the clouds and his eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

A.N: Here's the next chapter! Thank you to those of you who reviewed - your kind words mean a lot! One major thing I'm worried about with this being my first fic is making sure nobody is OOC, because I personally hate fics like that. So... let me know what you think!