Author's Note: As I was writing, the chapters kept getting longer and longer, the plot "funner"... and I just finished the last chapter, after taking a LONG time as I enjoyed it SO much... hahaha...

Chapter Eight

Draco played cards with Katie until late at night, enjoying himself. They both apologized to each other subtly during the course of the evening. Narcissa busied herself with tending to Lucius, so they were free to enjoy themselves. Draco taught her to play poker, she taught him Go Fish. When the grandfather clock struck eleven at night, Draco put his cards down and said, "I'm going to bed."

"Aw, we were just having fun," She protested.

"Am I still a butt-face?"

"Nah..." She shrugged.

"You've been here two nights in a row. What's your dad up to now?"

"He's staying in a hotel in another city, where my Mum lives. They finally have a court date. They both want to have me exclusively to themselves," she said miserably, "And Dad will come get me to talk as witness or something and say what I'd prefer."

"What do you prefer?"

"When we all lived together."

Draco looked up at the library ceiling, meters and meters above his head. An angel was spreading its white wings protectively, its face mellow; it looked a bit like him, with very pale skin and light blonde hair, its lips pink, but its face was rounded a little, as if the angel was still part child; it held a sword that was studded with rubies and gold; the artist actually put real gold and rubies on the ceiling. He wondered who painted it.

Katie saw him looking up and looked up as well, "What're you looking at?"

"Sometimes you have to compromise," he said, finally, looking down at her again, " Maybe say you spend a month with your father, then a month with your mother, back and forth."

"I guess so," She gathered their playing cards together and rubber-banded them together.

"I had to do it too."

"What?"

"Compromise! About the house, and Potter; I agreed because I could tell my mother liked the house, and she looked so hurt... so I got what I sort of wanted; a home that was far away enough that I wouldn't see Potter anyway, and my mother's happy... and she got her house, and a house that is sadly nearby Potter's."

"Why don't you call him by his first name?"

"I don't know. It's harder to say Harry in a spiteful, disgusted voice. Potter. It just drips with vileness."

"Cool," She got up.

They walked to their bedrooms, said goodnight, and separated.

Draco walked into his room and threw the curtains open to look at the crescent of a waning moon. His eyes shimmered and he closed the door and sat down in the blanket-swaddled window seat. He wrapped the blanket around himself, tucked the pillow behind his back, and watched the world beyond his window. He could see, in the distance, some bird wing over the moon, a black shape that quickly disappeared again. He closed his eyes, and thought about the pale face of the moon. His thoughts became liquid and unusual, and he thought of the moon as his own face, and then some strange thought about reaping energy from the stars, because he had no energy in him, which made sense at the time. He fell asleep, his legs curled up against his chest, feeling ten years old anyhow.

&&&&&&&&&&&&

Katie had left very early in the morning, and Draco slept through her departure. He walked into the kitchen, picked an apple for breakfast, and crunching it slowly, he wandered out into his garden. He walked past the fountain and onto the dirt road that ran between trees and bushes. He threw his apple core into the grass, feeling that it was part of nature and therefore would disintegrate and help the soil, so he wasn't truly littering.

He paused suddenly, a cat-like instinct overcoming him. He squinted his eyes and could make out someone sitting on the stone bench, on his property; and whoever it was happened to be moving their arms enthusiastically, thrusting them forwards, then laying them at their sides.

Some sort of lunatic, he thought to himself. How do you get someone crazy off your lawn? Do you have to escort them? Maybe just yell at them... He reached for his wand, which he had taken along with him, perhaps by premonition or instinct.

As he came closer (he was slightly near-sighted, and though he could easily use magic to fix his eyes, he kind of liked the soft hazy blur that far away places had; it made the world look like a painting), he could tell it was Vivian.

He stopped, thinking about running into the trees and getting himself home, before she found out that this was where he lived. He remembered her saying that she liked to walk around the neighborhood, but he thought she had the decency to keep away from private property.

A new feeling overcame him, a desire to scold her and tell her to stay off his property. That would have been effective, and it would have been how he honestly felt.

Vivian turned and saw him. He realized that she had been throwing pieces of bread and grain, and a few brave ducks were standing just across the road, eating them. She said, her voice low, "Don't scare them away."

"What're you doing here?" He asked.

"Do you walk around here too? It's the most beautiful part of this street."

"I'd say I definitely do; I live here."

"Wow, I bet you wandered around and just marveled at this place the first time you saw it," She said, then motioned for him to come closer.

He walked closer, walking softly because of the ducks, though he resisted an urge to frighten them; they were defecating all around the path, and the little green turds made him paranoid about stepping on them.

"You shouldn't be here, it's private property," somehow the sentence came out a little less harsh than he originally intended, so he added, "I never invited you to visit me."

"I'm not here to visit you, I had no idea this was your house. I've never seen you here before."

"That's precisely why we bought a house a good decent half mile off the road; it's so people don't wander in where they're not wanted."

"We?"

Draco could have kicked himself. "My mother and father."

"I thought you lived alone," she mused, "Why're they staying with you? Too overprotective?"

He shrugged; he didn't want to talk about his father.

"So I guess you want me to leave," She stood slowly.

Draco felt a little bad, but he wanted Vivian to stay out of his life; he wanted to press a magical button that said "pause" so that he could get some space.

"Alright then," Vivian began to walk down the dirt path, away from his home. Draco watched and waited until she was a few feet away, and then remembered something.

"I gave in your resume at work."

She turned and nodded, "Thanks. Guess that was your good deed of the week."

"You're angry."

"Of course I'm angry, you just shooed me off your property, when all I did was sit on a bench and feed your ducks."

"I didn't think it was possible that you'd be angry or upset."

"It's not always sunshine and daisies in my life, too," She seemed worn out, somehow.

"You're actually depressed," he laughed uneasily, "Maybe life gave you a slap in the face finally."

"You wouldn't understand," She replied.

Draco thought to himself, I guess we all have our problems. He said, "I'm not supposed to tell you, but my boss said you're a shoo-in for the job."

"And a shoo off your property," Vivian kidded, bitterly.

"Is that what this is all about? Fine, feed the ducks, make them too fat to bother walking around and shitting all over the place," He said.

"Do you like anything or anyone in this world? You don't even like animals, that's terrible," She complained, "And thanks for the job, but I don't know if I want to take it anymore."

"Why?"

"You'd constantly be there, and I can tell you really dislike me. I didn't do anything to hurt you, I didn't mess with your mind on purpose. That's just how I am." She twirled a blue strand of hair thoughtfully. The blue was fading and her bleached-white hair was showing through, "I guess our personalities clash too much. I'm really a person that likes to do good things, I guess, maybe I am a goody-goody. Maybe I am over due for a slap in the face. And I got one."

"Really?"

"Yes, it was you." She continued walking.

He didn't know what to do, so he jammed his hands into his pockets, thought, good riddance, and sat down on the bench. One of the ducks turned its head, its vacuous black eye staring into his. "What're you looking at?" He threatened.

How am I her slap in the face?

An owl hooted somewhere sleepily.

It's her fault, she pushed herself into my life. I didn't ask for someone to turn me into some sort of new age, happy freak. My life is fine the way it is. She can live however she wants, but she shouldn't butt into people's business.

Draco reached down and felt the paper bag full of bread and old buns. He turned it over and let it all tumble out onto the dirt path.

"Eat up, bastards," He murmured, angry at Vivian.

She has no business telling me how to live life. I was doing just fine until she came in and pushed her bullshit on me. Think abstract thoughts, do things out of the good of the heart. The only thing I should worry about is my father, my mother, maybe Katie; I've got no reason to polish anyone else's shoes. I'm rich, she's living in an apartment off money from her parents and whatever feeble revenue she gets from her books and art. She can't even help herself, why is she trying to "help" me?

And above all, why am I some sort of slap in the face? Because I didn't cave in? Because she couldn't change me? Maybe she's used to having people liking her, for being so happy and nice. It gets on my nerves, under my skin, she's nothing like me. Maybe she hasn't dealt with a person like me.

His thoughts came back to reality as he felt a duck stepping on his shoe. It had risked all and had started to eat the bread from right beneath Draco's bench. He looked in horror at the green, white and black mess the duck had left on his shoe, stood up, kicked at the duck, missed, and then watched as the four ducks flew away.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

The next morning, Draco came to the café. He saw Vivian sitting at another table. He didn't greet her; he wanted to show her that he was angry with her, too. She saw him but didn't say anything in greeting either. She swirled her spoon through her cocoa and ignored him.

Draco ordered his usual and began to drink it and read the paper he picked up as he walked into the café. He saw his story covering a large fire on the front page; he read it again, complimenting himself mentally on the fine job he did. He wanted to glance and see if Vivian was reading his article too.

He looked. She wasn't. She was reading the comics page.

He looked back down again at his paper. He unfolded it loudly.

Vivian's face showed no sign of even hearing him. Of knowledge of his existence.

Probably not a fan of my work anymore...

Draco finished his coffee and left the café. When he walked by the window, he saw Vivian had looked up; she was looking at the door as it had jangled, the bells set alive when he exited.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Clouds had unfurled over the sky, and he couldn't see the moon that night. He slept uneasily and woke in the middle of the night to the sounds of the tree outside his window, its branches thundering against his window. He stood, opened his window, and let the branches sway freely, then couldn't sleep until dawn, when he dozed for an hour and then woke for the day.

He walked to the café again, and this time sat with Vivian.

She glanced up and looked down again, raising her newspaper so she wouldn't see him.

"Alright, you're right. You got under my skin somehow and I feel bad now. I don't want to feel bad about all this, but I do."

Vivian raised her eyebrows, "Lovely apology."

His stomach dropped.

She lowered the newspaper and looked at him, her face devoid of any emotion whatsoever, "You stayed up, thinking, tonight? You've become kind to Katie, or someone else you were previously unkind to? You've begun to do things randomly for no reason?"

He nodded, uncertainly, "Can you make it stop?"

She smiled, "You're out of the cage."

"So? Push me back."

"It's not like I put a spell on you. You're doing it willingly. You hate to admit it, but I'm right about some things. I'm right about living a fulfilled, happy life. I'm right about being optimistic, because when you're nice to random people you get somewhere. You got something out of being nice to Katie?"

"How do you know I'd be nice to her? You saw me arguing with her."

"You went straight to the café anyway to get ice cream. You were both laughing. For a minute I thought you staged a fight for me, for some reason," She laughed softly, "But then I realized you two are probably really alike."

"And you and I are very unalike."

"For now," Vivian said, and lifted a finger to her lips, "Shhh, now."

"Why?" He asked.

She motioned to her lap. There was a box there, with holes cut in the top, "He finally fell asleep."

"Who?"

"My cat! Shhh!"

"You bought a cat?"

"A kitten. Oh, he's awake again, can't you hear him?"

A soft mewing noise rang from the box. She lifted it to the table and prepared to open it, but Draco said, "I don't really like cats."

"You'll like him," she scooped her hand into the box and pulled out a little black kitten. It stumbled over Draco's fingers. Draco tried to keep a straight face but couldn't.

"He's kind of curious," the kitten sniffed his fingers and then licked his thumb with his rough tongue.

"He was so feisty the first few nights. He would bite my fingers and hide, now he's such a pussycat, he insists I take him everywhere with me."

"You can walk through on my path if you want," Draco said, with some difficulty.

"Brom, you're too proud," She said finally.

"That's just how I am."

"You can be proud but be nice too. You don't have to see kindness as undermining yourself."

"So I guess you're some sort of new age guru for me now, just because I apologized?"

"I never once heard 'I'm sorry' from your lips."

He opened his mouth, to say he did, but he realized he didn't. Draco never apologized; he couldn't remember apologizing to anyone. He had learned to be that way since his bullying days in Hogwarts; he would have to be made to apologize for anything he did, and that was only if he was caught by a teacher; usually the student wouldn't expect any sort of apology.

"Too proud," She assessed.

"Well, how can you be proud and not be cold to people?"

"You can be proud of being kind. Proud of yourself for not being pompous, that's the kind of pride you have," Vivian said.

Draco sighed, "I'm sadly starting to understand you. Notice my choice of wording here. Not, 'I'm starting to become like you'. I'm just starting to see your point of view. I doubt I'll be swayed to it, not by much anyway. I can be kind to my own family, like to Katie, but don't expect me to start taking in the homeless or giving out my money."

"Ah, the mind of a journalist at work," She said, "You're looking at points of view. That's good. I'm glad."

"Don't you hear what I'm saying? I'm fine the way I am for now, but I understand what you're trying to do with my life and accept it. We could even be friends, I suppose."

"The proud Brom Breeler extends an olive branch of peace to the lovable Vivian Crowe," she narrated, and stuck out her hand, "That's a big step I guess."

"I don't know if we'll be the kind of friends you're thinking of. I'm not used to making friend friends."

"How do you define a friend, and a friend friend?"

"A friend is just... I don't know, to me it meant someone that I could always have to ally with me, to watch my back in an argument and to help stick up for me if something went wrong."

"So they'd basically be your body guard and sacrifice themselves to you, but you wouldn't be the same to them vice versa."

"Yeah..." He still didn't like how she'd take what he said, which sounded rather okay, and rephrase it so that he sounded like a real asshole.

"And a friend friend?"

"I don't make them. Someone that you tell your secrets to, I guess. Someone you open up to, confide in. I never had one, and never thought I would."

"You want to confide in me?" Vivian looked impressed, "you have done some soul searching."

"I said clearly that I might not be that kind of friend."

"You will," She grinned, "That face you're making! It looks like you're being sucked into a vortex of doom. You should smile. It takes less muscles, anyway."

He smirked at her.

"Close enough," She put the kitten back in the box, as it was trying to drink from her mug, "Silly kitten."

Draco wasn't sure whether she was referring to the cat or to him.

"You're right, I don't know why, but I do fancy you, by the way. You kind of slapped me in the face with that; I figured you'd be nicer to me if you knew," Vivian confessed.

He felt his ears get warm, and the hairs on his neck prickle. Why was she so open about everything? He was thrown off guard again. He felt like he was somewhat in control of the conversation until this point, now he was thrown off completely. She laughed and poked him, "You should come to my apartment sometime."

"I'm not - - I don't want to..." He felt nervous now, Is she asking me out, kind of? Does she think I'll give her some one night stand or something?

"Lesson one, when I ask someone to my apartment, it's out of good will, and I don't try to make them uncomfortable. Your personal space radius is like, a mile long. Don't worry, this is friends-only. I don't think I'd want to be anything but friends with someone as mean as you."

"Gee, thanks."

"So when will you come over?"

"The day you land a job at the paper."

"You said I was a shoo-in."

"You are. I'll come then."

"Nice, you actually intend to," Vivian grinned, "I knew you wouldn't handle being ignored by me out of nowhere. You're a good guy inside, somewhere."

He nodded and stood, " Well, I guess I said what I had to say."

"Thank you," She said to him, "And sorry for ignoring you."

"It bothered me," He didn't want to say it was okay. It wasn't okay, somehow he felt that she had tricked him into coming back to her. He felt he was in control, but now he wasn't sure again.

"Good. You have a conscience."

"I'm going before you get all new age on me."

"Alright, bye."

Draco left the café and pulled out a cigarette and lit it. It was a terrible habit, a Muggle sort of habit, but once he tried it he couldn't stop. He would smoke whenever he was stressed out.

He went through four cigarettes before he got to the path home.