((Disclaimer: I'm too poor to own HP and defiantly too poor to pay for the legal costs should I say that I own HP. So I will refrain from doing so.))
Chapter 4
Fresh Start
Once in Diagon Alley, I tried to maintain my front of haughty indifference, as was my reputation. Other than those giving me wary side glances, I was given the respect most would give a wealthy merchant. Which I was, of course. I didn't want them to see how incredibly nervous I was. How absurdly insecure I felt about owning a shop.
The Hogwarts letters had just been delivered, as the streets were bustling with children. Some were hand in hand with anxious, Muggle parents. Some of the older students were on their own, muttering about having to buy new robes. I envied them, in a way. They were still in their innocence. The biggest worries on their minds were vain, petty excuses for problems. At one point in my life, I would have looked down on them, thinking them immature and superficial, but now – now I wished for those same small problems. Not to have to worry about my father, not to have to worry about money – that would be the heaven that I imagined.
The shop I was to own was near Knockturn Alley. The building was unkempt, the door almost falling off its hinges. If I wasn't already so depressed, I would have broken into tears. This was not the shop that I imagined, not the place where I could start my new life. This place needed a lot of attention.
So I set to work, using various spells in my repertoire to clean, fix, and restore. The heat and humidity of threatening rain caused beads of sweat to break out on my forehead. When I finished, though, the outside looked inviting and the sign had changed to "Draco Malfoy – Basic Alchemist" in gold lettering.
The inside boasted a drastic change as well. Instead of the dingy, dirty pieces of wood that lined the shop, there hung exquisite mahogany shelves that crossed the wall. I did nothing but sleep, eat and work on that shop for days at a time. It was as if it had become a sort of addiction with me. Something that I could control, that I could change. Even with my life seeming to spiral out of control, the shop was a problem that I knew would be fixed.
Later that week, the things that Snape promised finally arrived. I set each of the potions needed for Hogwarts nearest my desk in the back. Other potions lined those new shelves. Snape had been generous in his potions and store of ingredients. Beside my desk was an arched wooden door leading to a storage area in the back. I kept my own ingredients in there, as well as three cauldrons. Various books, again donated by the Potions master at Hogwarts, were stacked against one wall, waiting to be read and researched. At the end of the week, I was almost ready to open the store.
The day before my "grand opening," I stayed for longer than usual. It was almost dark by the time that I got up to magically and physically lock the door to my shop. That completed, I turned around to leave. Only there was someone in the way. A tall someone with curly brown hair and intense, but friendly eyes.
"Hermione," I breathed, completely caught off guard. She smiled at me, before looking to the shop behind me.
"I heard that you owned the new Alchemy shop. I just wanted to see how you were adjusting," she explained. I took a small step back, finally noticing her in the failing sunlight. She was wearing the robes typical of the Ministry, and she looked so sophisticated in them. I blinked slowly before nodding.
"I open tomorrow," I stated simply. I started to brush past her. "And, as such, I am extremely busy."
She caught my arm as I was walking away.
"Draco." The sound of my name stopped me and I turned to face her.
"Yes, Hermione, what is it?" She released me and looked away.
"I'll be there tomorrow," she promised. "Just to make sure that people know about your shop, of course. Many of the Muggle parents were worried that they wouldn't be able to afford suitable ingredients for their children. Now that your shop is opening, well. . . they might be able to now." I felt my heart soar. There was no better action that she could ever do for me. I was so nervous about whether anyone would show up…or even if anyone would care. Now I knew that at least one person did. I kept my face expressionless, though. There was no need to become overemotional.
Instead of thanking her, I brought my hand to her jaw and traced it down to her chin.
"Don't let me down," I muttered and set off at a quicker pace. I knew, from instinct, that she was still standing there in the sunset, wondering.
A/N: I know. . A little mushy. But I kind of had to speed things along, lest I lose what few interest I have!
