04. Quills
He barely made it in time–a second later a familiar ring signaled the closing of the metal doors.
Without pausing to think, he spread his feet to maintain his balance as the train lurched forward. It was stuffy in the poorly ventilated car, and he was acutely aware of the corn-chip smell of the man next to him. The woman in front kept losing her balance and falling back into him, while the people behind chattered loudly in some language. Monday morning rush hour... After four years, he remained convinced he'd traded up.
The impertinence of fat tourists, the shocking indifference of hardened New Yorkers, the ridiculously high cost of life, and even the subtle but pervasive smell of urine that perfumed the air in most subway stations... A small price to pay in exchange for anonymity. Here in Muggle New York City he was just another nameless face in the crowd.
True, he missed certain comforts. True, walking around without a wand was like missing a body part. He missed magic in his life. And flying...
It would haunt him in the oddest of ways. Just yesterday he'd caught himself looking for a quill when there was a pen next to his hand. Suddenly a pen seemed hopelessly inadequate.
It would have to do; finding wizarding New York meant they'd be able to find him.
He liked his life here. Performing anonymous occupations–French teacher, photographer, 'clapperboard guy' at film shoots–was fun, and more importantly, had nothing to do with who he'd been.
The train came to a screeching halt, jerking him out of his reverie. True to form, the insufferable woman in front fell back into him, this time managing to lose her grip on her purse, its contents spilling out on the floor.
Ever the gentleman–even after two years in the city–he bent down to help her, and to his surprise discovered a pair of quills lying on the floor of the train car.
The woman accepted them from his trembling hands, eyes on his face.
Her name resurfaced from the depths of his consciousness–How could he have missed that hair?–and in her face he saw recognition painted clear as day.
Draco Malfoy! those eyes accused, even when her lips said nothing.
To his immense relief, she rushed off at Delancey Street and didn't turn back.
It took him exactly two more stops to realize he was disappointed.
Prompt: Quills
Word count: 400
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/? ~_^
Author's note: For those of you clamoring for D/G, you shall have it soon! Thanks again for the lovely feedback!
