The weeks passed by and Draco continued along in his quiet little routine. Pace, train, eat. Pace, train, eat. It was monotonous true, but he was alive, and free and fully intended to stay that way. Yes it would be nice to go outside, but it wasn't like he could see the birds, or trees, or sunshine. But he could hear, smell and feel them, that was enough. If he opened the window he could feel the breeze play across his face while he lay on the sofa.
Winter was closing in and he was pretty sure his shack wouldn't survive this year. The cold would creep in and he could already smell the damp. The roof would soon start leaking, like it always did. It drove him mad, the constant drip, drip, drip. There was no chance he'd let some muggle in to fix it. Aside from the fact that he had no money to pay, Merlin only knew what the filth would get up to.
He laid there trying to remember where the leaks usually sprung. He hated being interrupted in his pacing just because the roof was falling in on him. Why couldn't he just go back to the family manor? The warmth, the comfort, the house elves waiting on him hand and foot. The muggle girl would be round soon, with his food and laundry. Her mother did his washing, though she refused to set foot in Draco's home. The old woman knew there was something not quite right about the young man. Something strange, almost unnatural. There was a boy inside him who had seen too much, done too many horrible things in his short life. He may have the charm and good looks of what she would consider her betters, but there was no way of denying that the boy was bad to the core. Mrs' Jones hated that it was her daughter's job to take food to him and was overjoyed whenever she returned, safe and sound.
Draco lived in a small bungalow, outside the town which, likewise, was small. He lived off from the main road, and could only be reached by a rough dirt track. He was isolated. Just as he wanted. He didn't want to live among the muggles, he didn't need to join them. Just because he had to live like one of them, with no magic, didn't mean he was one of them. He'd never lower himself.
The door creaked open, about bloody time too. How hard was it to be punctual?
"Hello Mr. Marsden."
Circe, he hated that name. But Pansy had insisted he change his name when he first arrived here. Apparently Draco Malfoy wasn't a name that blended in and would make him inconspicuous to the locals. Daniel Marsden, what a weak name. Apparently it suited his new weak personality. If only these fools knew what he really was. Not one of them would dare whisper about the poor, unfortunate that lived on the edge of town. He knew they talked about him, it was natural, he was something of a curiosity. The image of their shocked, dumbfounded expressions flashed in his mind and he sniggered. He imagined killing every single one of them and laughed out loud.
"Something funny?"
Damn he'd forgotten about her.
"No just thinking, remembering something."
"Anything interesting?", she paused. "Come on, share.", she said, trying to coax him into a conversation.
"It's nothing. It doesn't concern the likes of you."
He knew he had been abrupt, he didn't care. Who was she to talk to him as if he were a friend?
"Ok."
She was hurt by his reaction, he could hear it in her voice. Good, he thought, serves her right.
The silence stretched out between them, he wished she'd just drop the food and leave. Why couldn't she just bring the food, put it in the fridge thing and leave. Simple really.
"Well don't just stand there."
She was scared of him now. She knew he wasn't a docile and unlucky young man, who was just angry at his misfortune. There was something deeper that was hinted at from the tone of his voice. His stance. He was always like a spring: coiled, alert, waiting.
"I'm so sorry Mr. Marsden. It's just there's been such an awful lot going on. I keep losing track of myself, I really should concetrate.What with Winter coming and the new arrivals in the village. A new family's just moved in see, the Potter's I think they said their name was. Lovely, young couple, moved up from the city."
"Potter's?"
"Yes, so sweet. You can tell they're in love. I think they might be about your age actually. We're having a -"
"What are their names? First names.", he interrupted her, he had to. It couldn't be him. It was far too much of a coincidence.
"Uh Harry and I…I can't remember the girl's name. We only met briefly but they seemed very nice."
It couldn't be. It just couldn't. There must be two Harry Potter's
"Where are they living? Were they alone?"
"Uh, uh…", she hesitated, he was making her nervous. His voice was furious, accusing almost, but she didn't know why.
"Well?"
"Not far from here, by the lake."
Ok I haven't posted any of this for a while because I've run out of ideas. And I need a bit of help. I have no idea who Harry's wife is. I did make a decision but that was a while ago and I've forgotten, so if anyone has any suggestions that would be great. I'm posting this in the hopes that it will inspire me to write some more. Hope you enjoyed it, I'm still not sure about this one...