"Drowning your sorrows?" A soft female voice with a Scottish twang questioned from his left. Draco's head snapped to the side as the surprisingly burning muggle whiskey slipped down his throat and fixed a glare at the brunette who dared to speak to him. Her blurred expression didn't waver at his withering stare as he tried to focus on her features; her green eyes remained staring as if she was reading him like a book.
"What's it to you?" He sneered as he set his glass on the bar top, disliking the intensity of her stare.
"Nothin'," she said with a small smile, "just an observation" she sipped her fruity pink cocktail through a straw delicately. Draco rolled his eyes, reminding himself it was illegal to hex muggles. No matter how tempting it would be to send her flying on her arse.
"Well, if you're done observing, I'll be leaving," Draco said as he threw an unnecessary wad of muggle notes on the bar and stood unsteadily. Muggle whisky hit harder than he expected and the last shot must have been one too many. He stumbled, bumping into the girl. Her drink splashed onto her dark blue satin midi dress. She gasped in surprise but laughed. He watched her bewildered. He had been braced for fury. If he's spilt a drink on Pansy or Daphnes dresses, they would have made him regret the day he was born. As if he didn't already.
"You're not mad?" Draco murmured.
"No, it was an accident, and I have a washing machine, so we're good," she said with a kind smile. Draco had a fleeting thought about her smile being appealing before ridding himself of that thought as soon as it came. Muggle, he reminded himself. She was a muggle and Malfoys did not fraternise with muggles. He scoffed inwardly, they didn't drink at muggle bars either, but here he was. Malfoy money would get him served in the wizarding world despite his age, but a confunding spell worked just as well, and his father had no idea where he was. Draco found he preferred it that way.
Draco wasn't sure what a washing machine was, but he relaxed at her affirmation and straightened himself, "good", he said simply with a stiff nod before falling out of the bar into the bustling London nightlife. A multitude of bodies swarmed around him. He felt claustrophobic like he usually did at the beginning of the school year, as kids rushed into the great hall for the sorting ceremony. The memory of Hogwarts was bittersweet. Draco dreaded returning after the summer. His father had his life mapped out for him. Join the Dark Lords loyal followers, marry a pureblood heiress and produce an heir, then manage the Malfoy estate until he died.
"Perhaps we should invite the Greengrass sisters to dinner. What do you think, Draco?" His mother had asked him before he found himself at a muggle drinking establishment, his father had sent him a pointed look, and he had nodded mutely before excusing himself. Daphne Greengrass wouldn't be the worst option, apart from the fact she felt like a sister to him. Growing up together did that. It would be incest. Plus, he wasn't sure what was happening between her and Theo. Astoria was out of the question, she was fifteen for one, and like Daphne, he had never considered her more than an annoying child. His mother was becoming barmy if she thought he'd propose marriage to Astoria.
Draco swayed and leant on the wall of the bar as he watched the world pass around him. He was so insignificant in the muggle world. Anonymous. He could slip through these streets, and no one would know who he was, nor would they care. He smiled. Anonymity. Who would have thought a Malfoy would crave anonymity.
The door opening beside him startled him from his thoughts—blue satin and brunette hair. There she was.
"Oh, you're still here," she said as she noticed him watching her.
"I seem to be." He said, berating himself mentally for his lame conversation. Muggle liquor seemed to strip him of his Malfoy sensibilities.
"Clara, there you are", an annoyingly familiar voice called, drawing the brunettes attention away from him.
"Hermione, I was just about to call you," she said, giving the bushy-haired nightmare a hug confirming his fear. Hermione Granger was here and knew the mysterious muggle. They made eye contact over the brunette's shoulder; Hermione's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing with suspicion.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" She said haughtily as they broke away from the hug.
"Just grabbing a drink, Granger," he said innocently, plastering on a smirk.
The brunette, Clara, looked between the two, surprised, "you two know each other?"
Hermione nodded and smiled politely at him, "We go to school together."
Draco nodded, "yes, it was nice to see you, Granger and to meet you, Clara, but I really must be off."
Granger recovered well from her surprise at his polite statement and nodded politely in return as he pushed himself off the wall, "you as well, Malfoy," she said before dragging her friend down the street away from him as soon as Clara raised her hand to wave goodbye.
Draco sighed and walked in the opposite direction. Should he go home? Probably. That was likely why he kept roaming the streets instead of finding a quiet place to apparate. He would have splinched himself in his state, he had decided. Draco would walk around until he sobered and then go home. That was the safest option.
The streets became emptier as the hours passed, and Draco stood at the banks of the Thames. Not sure what side he was on, but that didn't matter. He started at the water, enjoying the reflection cast by the moon on the surface. Although he could hear the city traffic, it was peaceful. His thoughts strayed to Clara. She hadn't been what he expected of muggles. She was different from the pureblooded girls he knew but not in a bad way. Not in the way his father had instilled in him. Was he wrong? Had the Dark Lord and his followers been wrong? Draco shook his head, too much self-reflection for one night. His head was sore. He knew the alcohol was leaving his system, and he had run out of excuses to keep him in London.
With that thought, he meandered away from the river and to an apparition point. He apparated away from the city to the front gates of Malfoy Manor and cursed lowly when he saw lights on in the parlour. His parents had waited up for him. He straightened his appearance before steeling himself and entering the foyer. He debated heading straight to his room. The staircase was looking tempting, but before he could contemplate it further, the tap tap tap of his fathers walking stick echoed around him.
"Where have you been?"
"I was with Blaise, lost track of time", Draco explained. He was confident Blaise would cover for him. Draco had for him, recently too.
"Yes, I see that." his father said, sniffing the air with disdain. Draco's heart froze; hopefully, his father couldn't tell the difference in the smell of whiskey.
"You should head to bed, the Greengrass's are dining with us for lunch, and it's important to your mother," His father said, dismissing him.
Draco nodded and headed up the stairs letting out a relieved breath when Draco firmly shut his bedroom door behind him.
Lunch with the Greengrass's would be painful, his mother would be insufferable, and if he were too familiar with Daphne, his mother would get her hopes up, and Draco didn't want to disappoint. He was too young to be considering marriage. He had a year of school left and a life to figure out before settling down with a wife and kids. Not that his parents shared his view.
Draco summoned a glass of water and sat on the edge of his bed, the pristine white sheets wrinkling with his weight. He looked around his childhood bedroom and sighed. He felt he now understood the term gilded cage in a way he never wanted to. The room was immaculate thanks to his house-elves and contained anything he could desire. The finest carpenter crafted his super king-sized mahogany bed and matching bedroom furniture and cost more than most wizards salaries. His decadent ensuite was better than those in five-star establishments so Draco shouldn't complain. He felt guilty for resenting his living quarters, but the fact remained that he was trapped, and would soon be trapped in a marriage he wanted no part of, in a cult he resented, under the thumb of his father until he died and gave Draco the estate. He shuddered. No. He wasn't going to let that be his life. He'd find a way out. There had to be a way out.