Disclaimer: J K Rowling created Harry Potter I own nothing.
A/N: My deepest thanks to my Beta Indie for her wonderful editing and support. I have disregarded the epilogue in DH, thought I should warn you. Thanks for your comments and keep on reading.
Chapter 3: Glad I Have A Wand
Draco could not get out of there quickly enough. What was he thinking! 'I should have just walked away but no, I had to lose my bloody temper! Stupid, stupid Draco.' He bumped into customers on his way out, oblivious to their annoyed glances and comments. Once out of the bar he noticed it was getting darker. He took a look at his watch. He had an hour to make it to work. Draco wished he had his broom with him. Flying took all tension and anger away and it reminded him that there were parts of his life worth remembering, like Quidditch. He would have to walk now; he needed to do something physical. Either walking or punching somebody.
Most of the time his walks were taken a few hours before work. When his room started to close in on him or thoughts of Hermione and Azkaban were too overwhelming, that was when he would either fly or walk. Depending on his job's assignments he would choose a path, which eventually ended up at his job. Once he knew which way he was going he would let his mind wondered and when he could not resist the temptation he ended up at the bookstore or the park where his son played or her house. Obviously this time he was too deep in thought or thinking about the world he left behind because without planning it he ended up at the bar. It had happened before. He missed Hermione. He loved her but could not bring himself to let her know he was so close. Why? He was not sure. He had left Azkaban with a permanent feeling of inadequacy and self doubt. Every time he was about to approach her he backed down and now he might have to do it whether he wanted to or not.
'Merlin! What is wrong with me? Those bloody Dementors! That blasted place with those stupid cries and screams...!' Everything he went through in Azkaban started to play in his head. His hands were closed into fists, his knuckles white and his pace slower. His heart was beating fast, he was afraid. His eyes were moving in every direction, like a hunted animal. He even turned his head right, left, back, as if he expected the Dementors to appear any second. He shook his head, squared his shoulders, held his head high and with his right hand brushed his long blond hair into place. The moment had passed and the weakness he had shown enraged him.
Draco walked faster; his thoughts went back to the Leaky Cauldron. 'Just when I thought nobody had recognized me she had to be the one!' The Weasel girl was bound to tell her annoying family, all ten thousand of them and of course, Harry The Bloody Hero Potter. 'Stupid! What in Merlin is wrong with me?' He cursed again and sighed; what was done was done.
They may know about them now. Merlin only knew why Hermione's friends just let her go. He found her; they obviously did not try. They never tried two years ago so why would they try to find her now? If what happened when their relationship started and then during his time in Azkaban was any indication of how they felt about her he had nothing to fear. Although … 'The Weasel girl was shocked to see Hermione with John Albus. Didn't they know she was pregnant?' Draco wondered.
Hermione covered her tracks, though not very well. Her parents were with her, which meant she went back to Australia and reversed the memory charm she used to protect John and Candice from Voldemort. Whatever information the Ministry had on file was not longer true because the Grangers no longer lived in the suburbs or practiced dentistry. Hermione lived as a Muggle so she practiced no magic at all. For a wizard like him, one who did not care and knew nothing about Muggles, looking for Hermione became a learning experience, one that made him swear countless of times.
Let them tried to find her and if they did find her, Draco had taken precautions. If any wizard or witch other than him dared to step into the perimeter of her house he would know. In seconds Draco would be there, wand in hand, willing to protect his family. Draco glanced at his surroundings and realized he needed to change direction. No harm done, it would take less than twenty minutes to make it to work.
"You are early today." Nick was having his 19:30 cigarette, leaning against the wall of the 30 story building, his uniform blending with the grey walls. He had that funny hat on. Some Muggles wore it. Nick called it a baseball hat. Baseball was a weird game Muggles from America played.
Draco looked up scanning the office building. The retreating sun was painting the windows with orange and silver colours. The clouds in the sky reminded him of the fumes coming out of his potions cauldron. He turned his attention to his supervisor. "How many offices today?"
His supervisor! He did not mind. Working with the cleaning crew was mindless work and he did not want to think about anything other than Hermione and John Albus plus Nick kind of grew on him. Dare he say Nick was sort of a friend? The only friend in the Muggle world, his only friend, period? With Nick he could let his guard down and did not need to live up to the Malfoy name. He was just plain old Draco. Not that he was that nice to him or the others members of the crew, yet the man didn't mind.
Nick knew about Draco's 'lady friend' even though he knew nothing about where she lived or her name; Draco kept that part of his life hidden. His young friend was not the most cheerful person in the best of days so if he came to work sombre and barking orders like he owned whatever building they were working on he knew she was the culprit. So Nick would invite Draco for breakfast , talk about football (another weird game Muggles played with their feet!) and his four daughters whom Nick adored. A few months ago Draco was even invited to have dinner with Maggie, Nick's wife and the girls. He having supper with Muggles, working for Muggles and having a son with a Muggle -born. The irony did not escape him. Funny thing though, it didn't bother him one bit.
"Thirty, can you believe it!" answered Nick to his question. "I mean, we are good, hell, we are more than good but ... anyway, let's go, the guys are going up."
Draco was already opening the door ready for another night of exciting cleaning challenges. "Hey," Nick said with a grin on his face. "I vacuum today, you do the washrooms.'
'Good thing I always have my wand with me,' Draco thought.
