It was a chilly, March evening. Draco sat on his porch, his hands around a steamy mug of butterbeer. A fleece blanket was over his legs, warming them.
His glance was set upon the rickety old house across the street. Its lights were on. They haven't been on for almost ten years, as Armonia's inhabitants have said. There were also rumors of it being haunted. No one dared to buy it.
It was a shabby house. Its windows broken, shutters lopsided, and its lawn grew wild across from Draco's neatly trimmed one. Everyone believed it was beyond repair.
Someone must have moved in. Draco pondered how long they would last in that house, maybe two, three weeks at the most. He amused himself for quite some while then went inside to get some sleep. He would pay a visit to them in the morning.
Draco was greeted warmly by the morning sun. After rolling out of bed and doing a good stretch, he stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pellets massage his back.
Half an hour later, he was sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee, his eyes scanning the front page of the Daily Prophet. Apparently the Weird Sisters were having a reunion concert. Seeing that there were no articles that interested him, he set aside the Prophet.
He peaked out the window and saw the house next door. Remembering that he was going to visit it, he set down his coffee and left his house. He cross the street and stepped onto Number 23's jungle of a lawn.
A lady in a sunhat was planting flowers around the front porch.
"Hello, there," Draco said, trying to get the lady's attention.
She turned around and smiled, "Hi,"
She was very pretty. Locks of curly auburn hair framed her delicate face.
"You must be the new neighbor—Draco," Draco said, sticking out his hand.
"Maria. Yes, yes I am. You must live across the street," She said, giving Draco's hand two firm shakes, looking over across the street.
"Yeah, I do. Are you fixing this house up?"
"Yes. It's actually quite charming; it just needs some touch ups. I'm sure it'll look great after I renovate it,"
"You're doing this all by hand?" Draco cocked his eyebrow, staring at the planting materials next to Maria.
"I don't find it satisfying just to wave a wand. I feel a lot better when I get something done the Muggle way. You know what I mean?"
"Honestly…no," Draco said. He had never met someone who preferred the Muggle way to the normal way.
"I hear that from most wizards," Maria said, placing a clump of daisies in a hole in the dirt, "But I think I'll tackle this lawn magically. It's impossible…" She said, smoothing the dirt over the daisies. She then stood up, brushing the dirt from her trousers, "Would you like to come in for some lemonade?"
"You've done a brilliant job on this house so far," Draco said, sipping his lemonade and looking around the parlor.
"Thank you," Said Maria, whom was also drinking out a glass of lemonade, "I spent all of yesterday fixing this room up. I've got a lot more to do, though. I'm glad I do. I have a lot of time on my hands.
"You don 't work?"
"I do. I'm a Magical Creatures Specialist. I'm just taking a break and settling down for a while before I return to work,"
"That sounds like a fun job, but I could never do it. I've been afraid to get near Magical Creatures since I was attacked by a hippogriff. I work at the Ministry myself—Magical Games and Sports department,"
"I could never work at the Ministry. Everyone's too uptight,"
"We are, aren't we?" Draco chucked, taking a glance at his watch, "Speak of the devil, I have to be going to work. Thank you for the delicious lemonade,"
Maria showed him to the door. After saying goodbye, Draco went back across the street. He grabbed his Blazer broomstick, stepped onto his lawn, and took off. He would fly to work everyday if the weather agreed.
Work was average. The only time his department was in a frenzy was around the Quidditch World Cup season, and that was months later. Currently, he was developing a new breaking system for the new Blazer 41 broomstick, set to release summer of next year. The plus of his job was that he'd get the latest broomstick before it hit stores.
"Malfoy, you know the annual Ministry Banquet is approaching," Percy Weasley said.
"Yes, Minister," Draco said, poking the Blazer with his wand.
"And you've been informed that it's your turn to host this year?"
"What? Really, you wouldn't want to have such an important banquet at my house,"
"Rubbish, of course we do, but if you don't want to do it, I'll understand—,"
Draco opened his mouth to reject the offer, but Percy continued, "But you wouldn't want to lose your position in the Ministry, do you?"
"My house is Number 22, Magician's Quarter, Armonia," Draco surrendered. It wasn't worth losing his job over some stupid banquet.
"Good, good, Malfoy," Percy patted Draco's shoulder then went off to yell at Oliver Wood.