After two quiet and uneventful weeks I finally was able to stop looking up immediately when someone walked through the door. I was scared that Harry would return. I don't think my anonymity would have remained. I would have slipped up or something. I'm almost sure of it. I was leafing through my notebook and instead of working on my fourth novel like I was supposed to be, I was sketching things in the margins. I looked at my reflection on the polished wood counter. I still looked slightly homeless, but the rest of me looked back to normal. At least the bags under my eyes were gone. A few of my regulars were traipsing around through the shelves. A customer came up to the front wearing a black velvet cape. I began to get nervous again. No one but 'them' wore capes like that. I watched the person from the edge of my notebook. Whoever it was had drawn up their hood to obstruct unwanted stares. I heard the stranger sigh in frustration, then hastily tore back his hood. Let's just say that Harry would have been a welcomed sight now. The man had silvery blonde hair.

No more...Please, I can't take this. Of everyone it could be, why did it have to be him?

As if cue, he turned to look in my direction. My gaze returned to my notebook, but as luck would have it, my pen dropped to the ground. It wouldn't have been that big of a deal had the chair that I was sitting on not slipped out from under me. I really should quit leaning back in it. The rustle of fabric and a pale hand greeted me when I opened my eyes. He pulled me up and I brushed myself off.

"Thank you..."

The bastard had actual concern in his stormy eyes. He would've cut off his hand had he known that he helped me, the old me.

"Are you alright?"

There was no mistaking it now, it was definitely Draco Malfoy. His voice was as soft and silky as it always was. Just like satin. What a bloody oaf. I had to calm down though. I had to be nice. It's a bit strange having a grudge toward someone who thinks they're meeting you for the first time.

"Why...Oh that? That happens to me all the time. I'm just a bit clumsy."

He smiled. Smiled! Apologetically. Then he mocked a hurt look.

"And here I am thinking that I knocked you off that chair with my silent charm and roguish good looks."

I laughed, half because it was completely absurd and funny, the other half was because the Boy Prince of Slytherin was flirting with me and he had no fucking clue.

"Sorry to disappoint you Sir."

"You are the first to break my heart you know?"

Mentally my skin was crawling. I just wanted him to leave. While it was true that he was beautiful, he was still a self-conceited prat.

"I'm sure I am...Now, may I help you?"

He straightened his posture to full height and switched to business mode. He procured a slip of paper from his cloak and gave it to me.

"Actually I was wondering if you had any works by this author?"

I looked down at the eloquently quilled ink. M. McFadden was written on it. My pen name. Of course I sold my own books, but no one knew I was the writer. No one that stopped in here knew my last name, people rarely asked for my first. I surely didn't put a picture of myself in my books. I was no Gilderoy Lockheart!

"Yes, actually I do"

I walked to the specialty shelves behind the counter. Why is Malfoy interested in my writing? I wrote as a muggle author, but frequently spoke of magic in my books. Maybe that's what sparked his interest. Whatever it was, I was sure to be worrying over nothing. Maybe I should just ask? He's in a good mood, he'll just assume I'm curious or trying to flirt. Clutching the eight books I had written, I lugged them on the counter dropping two of the thick novels in the process. The noise made an older woman jump and I scolded myself.

"Bloody Hell Merrick..."

Draco laughed and I smiled sheepishly.

"Clumsy. See what I mean?"

He simply nodded and smirked slightly, amused.

"Are you a fan? Of the author I mean?"

"Yes, I have all of his works. I was just here to pick up the newest one."

This was to my surprise, even though he thought the writer was a man. Then again why wouldn't he? Of course he thinks it's a man. No woman could prove to interest him like that. I didn't mind though. He paid for the book. Wait...Did he just say something to me?

"Huh?"

"You have a secret admirer."

I looked completely confused. He pointed toward the window where a sable and white owl, my owl, was pecking on the glass. MY OWL?!! Shit! I walked over to the window pretending to shoo Mistophelles away, discreetly hiding the letter he held up my sweater sleeve. I closed the window and brushed off the snow from my numbing hands.

"He's been hanging around my store lately being a menace to my customers. For all I know he could be following you. You two have the same tendencies."

Draco rocked on his heels and smiled.

"Are you saying I'm a menace to your customers?"

I placed my hands on the counter top.

"I'm saying you're being a menace to me."

He leaned his elbows on the counter closing the space between us a little. Just enough to shorten my breath. He held one of my hands, running a slender finger over the back of then and continuing to lightly stroke my palm. I faintly sensed that my hands were warming up. Which, much to my dismay, I immensely enjoyed.

"Am I?"
I nodded, not able to do much else. He looked down at our hands and shook his head.

"I'm sorry...Where I come from an owl usually means a message is coming."

Play dumb...play dumb...play dumb!!!!

"Oh?"

Perfect....

He absentmindedly stroked his thumb across my knuckles. He had such warm, soft hands.

"Yes...My name is Draco, Draco Malfoy. His lips brushed my wrist tenderly. With that he took his book and replaced the hood back on his head and walked out.