Part Four
Chapter 49: The Year After
Draco sat beside his mother and a few of his friends, a broad smile beaming across his face. The band was playing a beautiful, slow, and uplifting tune that reverberated through Draco and intensified his joy as he watched his two best friends exchange their vows. It was a beautiful day in the French countryside; the sun was shining down on the meadow where they were all gathered, and butterflies flitted about among the late summer flowers blooming in the grass. Draco breathed in the fresh air as he stood up and joined the applause that was now ringing through the marquee. He felt relaxed. He felt comfortable. He was happy.
After the ceremony, Draco meandered about the dance floor, dancing with a few of the bride's friends and then spending a great deal of his time by the bar with Albert and Callum, occasionally joined by Blaise. When they finally had the chance, the three men congratulated the bride and groom.
"I'm so happy for you, Dominique," Draco said, giving her a bright smile and hugging her tightly.
"Thank you, Draco," Dominique replied. "And I really mean that! If it weren't for you, I never would have met Theo!"
Draco laughed. "Yes, my going to Azkaban helped quite a few people out. Congrats, mate," Draco said, turning to Theodore Nott and giving him a hug.
Nott smiled. "Thanks, Draco," he said. "And one day, you're going to have to come back to the countryside, you know. Dom insists you be our first child's godfather. I, for one, do not want that," Theo added with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Hey, just because you don't like Paris doesn't mean it's the worst city in the world," Draco replied with a chuckle. "Well, I'm heading back to the bar. You guys coming?"
"Hell yeah!" Albert exclaimed, grabbing Draco by the shoulder. "The only way I'm enjoying this wedding is because of alcohol, Dom," Albert said with a chuckle.
Dominique held up her hands to indicate her innocence. "This was all Theo's planning," she said. "I wanted to invite more of my friends, but Theo said he only needed one drunken wedding to happen today." Draco snorted as he took a sip of champagne as he saw Theo's slightly disgruntled expression.
"Well, I know how these fellows get when they're drunk," Theo said matter-of-factly.
"Yes, Theo," Dominique said teasingly. "We all know you hate it when others have fun!"
Everyone laughed as Dominique planted a kiss on her husband's cheek. Draco downed the rest of his champagne and headed back to the bar with Albert and Callum, where all three of them ordered neat firewhiskeys. Draco noticed one of Dominique's friends smiling at him from across the dance floor, and he eagerly accepted her offer to dance with him. As the night went on, Draco watched his friends drink, dance, and laugh as the sunlight poured into the marquee, drenching the scene in a brilliant gold. Soon, the sun dipped beneath the horizon, and as night fell over the meadow, Draco, Albert, and Callum leapt about in the grass, catching fireflies in jars like little children while his mother sat at the edge of the marquee chatting with Dominique. And when the night was over, Draco happily slung his coat over his shoulder and headed to his flat, which he shared with Albert, the American chap that had come with him when he first transferred to Paris to be the Aldea News's correspondent there. Now the two of them worked together at the local wizarding newspaper, the Parisian Gazette.
Once home, and tucked into bed, Draco lay staring at the ceiling, his hands laced behind his head, reflecting on that day. So much had changed since he had been released from Azkaban: Dominique and Theo had gotten married, his mother had moved to the French countryside and was now helping Dominique's parents on their farm, and he had found two new best friends in Albert and Callum. The only thing that hadn't changed was that his father was still in Azkaban.
Draco rolled over and readjusted his pillow, pulling his blankets higher up underneath his chin. Moments later, he was fast asleep, a cool Parisian breeze wafting in through the window.
The next day, Draco awoke to the smell of frying eggs and bacon permeating through the flat. Draco promptly went back to sleep- as it was Albert's turn to make breakfast, he wagered he had another ten minutes before he really had to get out of bed. He was wrong.
"Draco, get up!" Albert called from the kitchen. "It's already 8:30!" Draco groaned and rolled out of bed, taking his sheets with him, then staggered into the kitchen. He hadn't realized how bad his hangover was. Upon entering the kitchen, Draco could see Albert wasn't much better: his black eyes were bloodshot, and he was stirring the eggs with a knife.
"Idiot!" Draco laughed. "You're scratching up the pan!"
Albert looked down in surprise. "Dammit. Oh, well." Albert picked up his wand and transfigured the knife into a spatula, then proceeded to stir the eggs, which were now practically black, without a second glance at the pan. Draco, who was stuffing his things into his bag, reached for his wand and vanished the pan from the stove. Albert, much to Draco's amusement, went on stirring. Draco promptly tossed a book at him.
"Wake up, mate!" Draco exclaimed with a laugh. "Now, hurry up and get dressed."
"But I haven't eaten anything!" Albert cried indignantly.
"And at this rate, you never will. C'mon, I'll just owl Claudine and ask her to pick something up for us from the cafe," Draco added, hastily scribbling a note onto a piece of parchment and tying it to the leg of the owl perched on the window. "Oi, did you feed this bugger last night?"
"Nah," Albert replied. "D'you think I should have?"
The owl hooted angrily in response, prompting Albert to stick his tongue out at the tawny brown bird. The owl immediately fluttered out the window, carrying Draco's message. "I hate that bird," Albert muttered darkly.
"And he hates you," Draco replied. "Now hurry up and get dressed."
Draco and Albert reached the office at approximately 9:15, looking more unkempt than usual. Their coworkers, however, took no notice of their appearances, by this point rather accustomed to the aftermath of the rowdy bachelor lifestyles the two men lived. Draco flopped down into the chair behind his desk, tossing a wad of paper at Albert as he headed into a writer's meeting. Draco looked down at his desk and immediately dug into the brown paper bag that Claudine had evidently left there and pulled out a warm buttered croissant. He scarfed it down within seconds, then wrote a quick memo to Claudine as a thank you, sending it fluttering away down the row of desks. Draco then turned his attention to that day's work. He first had to approve the layouts on his desk for the next day's paper. Draco, after accepting the post at the Gazette, had been promoted to the photo editor, which simply meant that he got paid more and, as a result, had to attend a lot more meetings. For instance, that day, he had a meeting with his photo staff, followed by an editor's meeting and a review with the newspaper's owner.
At lunchtime, Draco and Albert joined Claudine for lunch in their favorite cafe, the Cafe de Nuage. The interior of the cafe was painted a chalky sky blue, a color that always seemed to put Draco at ease.
"How's the agenda for today's meeting coming along?" Albert asked Claudine as the three of them settled into their regular table by the window.
"You mean for the meeting you aren't allowed to come to?" Claudine said with a mischievous smile. "It's been done for a week."
Albert scowled. "Come on, why can't I be promoted already? Draco was promoted, like, as soon as he got here!"
Claudine chuckled. "I may be the editor-in-chief, but I don't get to simply fire my writing editor because you're jealous that Draco makes more money than you." Albert scowled again.
Draco smiled to himself as he listened to the conversation between his friends. He was especially happy to hear them calling him "Draco"; upon leaving Azkaban, he had decided he hated the name "David" and told John, in Aldea, that he was changing his name to "Draco". His false last name remained Matthews, and the only people in France who knew of his true family name were his mother, Theo, Dom, and Dom's family.
"Don't worry, Alfred," Draco said, joining the conversation. "I'll always pay for your meals."
Claudine laughed as Albert's face turned red with a combination of anger and embarrassment.
"Hey, by the way," Draco said, trying to keep himself from laughing at Albert, who looked extremely upset, "do any of you know where Callum is? He was supposed to meet us here."
Albert, who seemed to have recovered, looked up at Draco. "Oh, I suppose he's still at work. He always forgets to come to lunch when he's hungover."
"By that logic, he would never come to lunch with us!" Claudine exclaimed with a smile. She took a sip of her lemonade. "I'm assuming you had fun at the wedding last night?"
"Yeah, loads," Draco said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Theo was pretty annoyed that you didn't come."
Claudine sighed. "Yeah, I wanted to, but misprints can't be helped," she said sadly.
"Well," Albert began. "With me as an editor, you would never have to deal with a misprint again!"
"Please," Claudine said, rolling her eyes. "With you as an editor, there'd be a major misprint every night! Your French is atrocious!"
"I beg to differ," Albert said, thrusting his chin in the air. "No one ever has a problem understanding my French." At that moment, the waiter arrived with Albert's lunch. "Hey!" Albert began, in French. "I ordered a salad, not a soup!"
"No, sir, you said soup," the waiter replied.
"No one has ever had a problem understanding your French, eh?" Draco said with a smirk.
Albert frowned. "I'm sure I said salad!"
"I'm sure you did," Claudine said with a giggle.
Utterly confused, Albert pulled out his French dictionary and began rifling through it.
A quarter of an hour later, as the three friends left the restaurant, Draco handed the waiter a five-euro note. The waiter took it with a smirk, murmuring to Draco, "soupe ou salade, qui sait?"
"Pas lui," Draco replied with a smile.
A/N: Review please? I'm trying something new :)