I'm so sorry about how long this chapter was. My muse for this story shot herself somehow. I really do apologize. Please forgive me.
All the reviewers have been great and I hope you haven't lost faith in a cute little fic like this one.
Thanks so much for reading.
Sighing, the Malfoy heir stood and dressed himself.
It wasn't until about noon that Draco and his companion made it downstairs to the pub. A muggle woman was sitting with her boyfriend in a booth talking loudly about her work. Malfoy wrinkled his nose and seated himself at the bar, far away from the muggles. Blaise sat next to him and Tom gave set a pot of tea on the counter before them.
"You two should go into the alley fer a little while. She'll be here fer another couple o' hours," Tom said, using his rag to wipe out a glass.
"Will she now? Who is she?" Draco poured a cup and drank some, Blaise did the same.
"Just some woman, no one ter worry about really, but regular conversations are out o' the question, if she hears something odd, who knows what'll happen."
"I suppose, tell Lucius and Vaden where we are," Draco set a galleon down, "thank-you for the tea."
Tom nodded, took the galleon and gave back a pair of sickles. "No trouble at all."
Draco and Blaise were in the Alley when a hunchbacked witch hobbled up and shoved a rusted metal goblet at them, "spare a knut?" she squawked and rattled the goblet, making the knut in there rattle viciously against the sides.
Draco and Blaise moved away from her but she pursued them, leaning heavily on a twisted wood cane. "help the poor, spare a knut," she squawked again. One eyes was larger than the other and protruded greatly over her sunken cheeks. It was set farther from her long, hooked nose than the other one and slightly up more. Her lips were lopsided and her fly-away gray hair stuck at every angle from under a shredded up and grimy hat.
"Look, ma'am, I really don't have-"
"You have a knut?" she rattled the goblet again and looked at the two hopefully.
"I-" Draco inhaled through his nose which was a mistake, the dirty, molded smell of the woman infiltrated him and nearly made him gag. Feeling incredibly bad for her he relented a galleon and turned to move away with Blaise at his arm.
"Thank-you, may your dreams be full of clarity and beautiful things," she said in her oddly pitched voice. Draco turned sharply and looked at her, the vision he'd had that morning was clear as day, he didn't know what it meant but he could still see the shape of Potter's beautiful body tangled in his sheet. It must have been a coincidence that this woman said that.
Shaking it from his head, Malfoy moved off again. Behind him he heard her ask another passer-by for a knut.
"Why'd you give her anything Drake? You've always said the poor deserve what happens to them," Blaise said as they steered themselves into a book and coffee shop.
"She was more forceful than most, I didn't want her to touch me. I had to get her away some how," Draco shrugged.
Blaise didn't believe this for one second. Draco had a philanthropic streak in him and most likely he thought she could use the money to buy food or something.
They seated themselves at table on the second story up a twisted flight of stairs. The chairs were huge, stuffed arm chairs with a blue and orange chessboard table between them. A waitress brought them their usual in their usual cups and smiled.
Draco drank a mocha in the blue and white polka dot cup with the orange stripped saucer. Blaise had a triple shot latte in the black cup on a tiny pink and green checkered saucer. The cups were huge and some had chunks taken out of them with spell-o-tape holding the crack from leaking. It was character as Belle called it. Belle owned the place and was the one who'd just served them. She used to work as a cook for the Malfoys before Narcissa helped her start her own business in Diagon Alley.
"Hello there little Masters, pleasure as always," she pulled a set of chess pieces out of no-where and set them down on the table. "Be back later with your scones."
"Thank-you Belle," Draco gave her a heart-melting smile like always and watched the chess pieces sort themselves out.
"The band last night, what were they called?" Blaise asked.
"Catch 97. They were Elves and I'm fairly certain Pansy ended up taking one to bed with her."
"Catch 97," Blaise repeated this.
Below them in the shop Hermione Granger walked in with Ron Weasely. "-I can't believe Harry would think like that. Just because they have families doesn't mean they're good people," she was saying. Draco and Blaise leant forward to watch over the edge of the second floor and to hear better.
"They're Slytherins, of course they're not good people. I think he's just going through a little phase, he'll be better soon and he'll remember he has us, better than family because we're friends."
Hermione turned to Ron and smiled softly. For some reason she was rather taken with him. She planted a quick kiss on his lips, still shy about PDA and blushed as she turned back to give her order to the older witch behind the counter.
Draco cringed at that but smirked at what he'd found out. Potter was jealous of him? All because he had a mother and a father? How wonderous! Blaise knew this and was himself rather delighted with the revelation.
"Do you know what this means Blaise?"
"Blackmail."
Draco sneered and sipped his mocha. Life was getting better and he relaxed into his seat and closed his eyes for a second before his turn came in the chess game.
"I hate you." Harry was looking at a picture of Peter Pettigrew in a photo album. Draco knew him through his visits to the manor to ogle Narcissa. "You got my parents killed. You sold them out." Harry was sitting on his bed in the his room at the Leaky Cauldron, the album on his lap. With a heavy, heart felt sigh he said, "I wish you'd gotten me killed too."
He slammed the album shut and in a fit of anger through it across the room.
Draco snapped his eyes open and realized they'd not been closed more than a minute. Had that really just happened? Was he magically able to see Potter wherever he was and whatever he was doing?
Harry felt bad for throwing the album and quickly retrieved it, inspecting for damage. None existed and he opened it up to the first picture of himself and his parents when he was not more than a week or two old.
"Why am I such an arse hole?" Harry touched the picture lightly and then closed the album again, setting it aside. He laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His mind drifted off as he fell into a short slumber.
Draco was in the crowds, his blonde hair touched with unnatural color as the lights sped by. Faeries of every color sped through the space above the crowd, sometimes throwing down dust that created a high for the person who inhaled it. Pansy was pulled on stage and began to dance with the bass player. He was rather taken with her for he motioned for her to go backstage and wait till the set was over.
"I can't get enough of the way you walk," the singer belted, jumping in a circle and twisting the snaking microphone cord around him.
"The way your hips move like they'll throw the earth off course," he sang and the crowd screamed.
"Stand down, sweet lady, hold me down, sweet lady
"Walk my way and tell me your," he paused for a second and everyone held their breath, "name!" the word rang through the club and it exploded again.
Draco found himself dancing with a vampire named Elex who he'd met a year ago in Romania during a huge music festival. Elex was a black haired young man with golden eyes that in that light were flaming green. Draco glanced back at him and saw Harry Potter in his place, smirking a little and breathing hard as they moved.
The song changed.
"There's something, babe."
Draco threw himself into the mosh pit, barely registering that Blaise and climbed on the bar with Elex.
"Something, darling."
Draco felt someone hit his shin but he didn't notice as the next line screamed out.
"I think you should die."
Malfoy stopped and pulled himself out of the crowd, he came face to face with an almost ghostly version of Harry Potter. Startled in walked by it and to the bar for a drink, to convince himself he'd not really seen that.
That was all last night.
Draco could distinctly remember it.
That was what three visions of the Potter boy?
Was his subconscious saying something? Would he listen? Probably not.
Blaise picked up a pawn he'd won and threw it at the distracted blonde. It hit him hard in the temple. Draco turned sharply and glared at his friend.
"Your move," the Italian said simply.
Below them Ron and Hermione had found a table, conveniently placed just below the pureblood boys, Hermione was talking to him about something.
"I do worry about Harry though, he's got…well a lot going on all of the sudden. Maybe we should take him for dinner in muggle London?" Hermione suggested.
"That would be okay," Ron nodded and took a sip of the Italian soda they were sharing.
"We should convince him that those nasty Slytherins may have families but they certainly aren't anything to aspire to be," Hermione stated.
"Sure," Ron wasn't listening. Just agreeing with her.