A/N: I'm trying my hand at the QLFC bootcamp. Every story must have a known Quidditch player as the main character. There are 50 prompts at three levels.

I'm in for: Hard: You must use the same character for all 50 prompts.

Character: Draco Malfoy

Prompt: 50. Cat

Word count (before A/N): 1,541 words

Second Chance

The late September sun always gave the shops in Diagon Alley a faint amber glow. It would bounce off the slate grey rooftops, casting warm shadows across the pavement, giant beacons calling the street's patrons in for the night.

It was at such a moment, however, that Draco found himself just starting his journey down the cobblestone streets, Astoria practically skipping at his side.

How they ended up here, he still couldn't say. He just knew that somewhere between the train platform that morning and the brief journey back home, his wife had lost all semblance of sanity, and now they were frantically rushing against the evening crowd to get to the one place Draco did not want to be.

Merlin, the things he did for this woman.

"Cheer up," she said, not at all phased by the staring crowd even after all this time. Unlike Draco, Astoria let their stares fall to the background. White noise, she called them. Static. Draco, however, could feel their eyes surreptitiously peering from hooded lashes, trying to get a glimpse of the former Death Eater and his wife. At least they weren't on the train platform anymore, where not a single soul had attempted to hide their blatant gawking.

He linked his fingers with Astoria's, their palms resting against each other, and Astoria finally slowed her pace.

"That's not like you." She gripped his hand tighter. "It'll be okay, love. He'll be okay."

Could someone have a heart attack in their thirties, Draco wondered. His chest felt unbearably tight the more he thought about Scorpius on his way to school, no longer protected by their love for him, out in the world, bearing the Malfoy name…

Astoria rested her head against his shoulder, and they slowed even more. For a moment, Draco let himself release the tension in his body, let himself have that moment in Diagon Alley underneath the setting sun, Astoria at his side. He looked at her, hair pinned back effortlessly to reveal the shiny pink apples of her cheeks. She had a lazy smile on her face, like she was off in her own little world, emerald green eyes taking in a memory he could not see. She sighed, blinking, her elfish facing turning to him.

"I'm glad we're doing this," she said. "I love having Greta around, but owls aren't the cuddling type."

"More like the nipping and plucking type," he muttered, the scar on his hand still stinging with the phantom pain of their owl's beak wrestled around his fingers. He and Greta didn't quite get along most days. And now she was off at Hogwarts with Scorpius. Thank, Merlin.

The bald head of the early evening moon peeked out from above the rooftops just as the pair reached their destination.

"Are you absolutely sure—" Draco started, but Astoria had already dislodged herself from his grip, bounding into the Magical Menagerie without a second thought.

Oh, how he wished he'd fought harder against getting a cat.

The heat of the store hit him first, the stifling warmth that only came with pet shops. It was all the heating spells for the reptilian brood that lined the walls in glass tanks, their roaming eyes taking in everything as they swirled around their scaly heads. Draco made a point to avoid the snakes, past experiences having scarred him for life.

Instead, he walked the aisles till he found Astoria, already on the floor surrounded by the wandering cats. Ginger ones, fluffy white ones, sleek black ones. A siamese already nestled in her lap. She grinned up at him.

"I'll buy them all if you don't help me pick one," she said, eyes dancing.

An empty threat, surely, but Draco wasn't taking any chances. He crouched beside her, grateful they were the only two patrons in the store at that moment. He was still dressed in his finest robes. It had been a strategic tactic that morning for when they dropped Scorpius off at the station, a small symbol he hoped showed the other parents that the Malfoys still meant something in their community. That they could rise above the past. That Scorpius and Astoria were different from the lot Draco came from.

If it worked, he couldn't say.

"Hullo!"

Draco paused mid reach toward a lanky grey cat, his eyes lifting toward the elderly shop clerk's beaming smile.

"Looking for a four-legged friend?" she asked, her wrinkly face outlined with enthusiasm. She remained cheerful, even as Draco stood straight. She gave no indication that she knew who he was, even though Draco knew she'd seen him before—whether that be as a child himself or plastered across The Daily Prophet as an adult.

"Indeed!" Astoria answered before he could. She, too, was still in her daytime robes, a beautiful dark purple shade that only made her eyes stand out even more. Now she was covered in fur as a fluffy white persian sank into her lap, head lifted gingerly for scritches under its chin. "Our son just started at Hogwarts today, and I'm afraid I couldn't cope with the empty home."

"Oh," the shop clerk clapped her hands together, "bless you, dear. You lasted longer than I did when my last one left."

Astoria looked up, her gaze gentle, her interest already piqued. They were about to swap life stories, Draco knew. It's what Astoria did. As the questions rolled from Astoria's tongue, questions about the clerk's children and where they were now and what pets she had at home, Draco busied himself by looking at the products beside him.

Owl treats, pygmy puff shampoo, lice removal potions for all types of furry creatures. He was about to pick up a cleaning brush, something maybe to send to Scorpius for Greta's cage, when he felt little paws rest against his calf. He looked down at a mangy looking creature, its yellow eyes staring wide at him.

Instinct told him to kick it off, but he stopped short, noticing that one of the cat's back legs was missing.

"Who's this?" he asked, more to himself than anything.

"Chance."

Draco startled, forgetting he was standing next to the shop clerk and Astoria. When the name registered, he looked back at the cat still staring up at him from the floor. Thin patches of grey and orange fur lined the sides of the cat's face, accented by crooked white whiskers that stood in all directions. It's body looked lean, dotted with grey, orange, and white, while it's tail was all orange. An ugly looking fellow, with three legs and glowing eyes.

"Odd name," Draco said.

"On the contrary. Chance here's on his second life, his second chance." The shop clerk bent to pick up the fur ball. Immediately, the cat curled into her arms, purrs coming off him like a locomotive engine. "Poor thing was run over by a Muggle car. Somehow he managed to hobble into the Leaky Cauldron and then to my shop, as if he knew I could help."

The clerk nuzzled the beast's face, eliciting an affectionate mewl from Chance.

Draco grimaced. What a life the poor thing had led.

"We all deserve second chances, don't you think?" The clerk smiled again. Finally, Draco could see the recognition in her glossy eyes, yet for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel like running away from the stares. If anything, he felt inclined to stand taller under this elderly witch's gaze.

His chest tightened. Looking at the creature again, he reached for it, but hesitated, hand still curled away from Chance. "Does he—need anything? For the leg?" he asked.

"No potions or spells, if that's what you mean. Just needs a happy home."

"Don't we all," Draco muttered. His hand landed in the soft fur on Chance's head, and suddenly, he knew what he had to do.

Twenty minutes later, Astoria was beyond delighted as they boarded the Knight Bus home. A first in a long time for Draco—taking the bus. But Astoria feared Apparition might traumatize Chance, and flying was out of the question.

Chance curled up on her lap immediately, his locomotive purrs in time with her affectionate pats. "He chose you, you know," she said, eyes still locked on their cat.

Draco grimaced. "I don't know how to feel about that," he said honestly.

"I chose you. That turned out pretty good."

"Don't know about that, either," he teased, gently bumping her arm. "Now I own a mangy cat with three legs."

"Oh, you love him." She continued to pet the now-sleeping Chance still nestled in her lap. "And he's already having an effect on you, love."

When he didn't respond, Astoria simply looked up at him, affection burning bright in her green eyes. "You haven't mentioned all the stares we're getting."

Draco glanced around, shocked to see the shadowy faces turning away quickly from his gaze. Somehow, they'd become white noise to him and his new family member.

Static.

"Maybe I'm finally giving myself a second chance." He couldn't meet Astoria's eyes. Still, she gripped his hand with her free one, and they rode the bus in a comfortable silence—save for Chance's rather loud purring—all the way home.