Chapter 2
Surprises
Draco loves his job, he really does. At least that's what he tells himself as he appears at the apparition point at the north side of Diagon Alley. He loves his job but the walk there and back are some of the most stressful parts of his day.
Pulling his cloak securely around him, he steps out into the sunlight and starts off down the street, head held high. He doesn't make it far before being shoved to the side for the first time. He keeps his balance through months of practice and continues on his way.
The first hiss of "Deatheater" takes longer than he was expecting. His eyes tighten slightly though no other reaction shows on his face. The whispers and threats have died down as the years have passed but he has yet to make it through Diagon without hearing at least a few threats thrown his way.
He understands. For those who lost family to the war, the pain would always be too fresh and he would willingly take their ire for the part he had played.
His bag is pulled from his shoulder, it's contents spilling on the street around him as it lands with a thud on the ground. He quickly falls to his knees and begins shoving parchments and quills back inside. His favorite emerald green ink is a lost cause and he sighs as he banishes the mess it left behind. Turning to look through the crowd that passed around him, Draco hunted for the other items he had dropped.
Glancing up, he found a familiar book held in front of his face. Reaching up to retrieve it, he looked into familiar brown eyes. His hand froze and he forced a blank expression onto his face as a loud roar drowned out the noise of the populace and replaced it with the familiar maniacal laughter of his aunt.
Pulling himself to his feet, he turns and strolls purposefully away, readjusting his satchel on his shoulder and leaving the book behind.
He manages to slip down a small side street relatively unnoticed as his mask slips. Turning and bracing his hands on the brick wall beside him, he rests his head on the cool masonry, fighting to calm his gasping breaths. The sound of pained screams and broken sobs echo through his mind accompanied by the continued laughter.
His breathing and heart rate gradually slow, leaving him panting with a deep ache in his chest. Readjusting his cloak around him, he runs a shaking hand through his hair and makes his way to the back door of the apothecary, unlocking it and slipping inside.
Setting his leather satchel on the small table near the door he calls out, "Good morning, Mr. Mulpepper."
The door to the front room clicks open and an older, white haired, wizard walks through with a smile. "Good morning, Draco lad. I was beginning to worry." He leans against the doorframe and watches as Draco begins to light the cauldron fires. "Not like you to be running late."
Draco can hear the unasked question and sighs, "My apologies. I had a rough night last night and found it difficult to get started this morning."
"No apologies needed my boy," the older man exclaimed coming forward and placing a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder with a smile. "The store would survive if you needed to take a day for yourself." He turned and walked back toward the open shop door turning over his shoulder with a knowing grin, "Though I understand the need to keep one's mind occupied. We could use more dreamless sleep."
Draco sighed as the door clicked closed and turned his attention to the shelves that made up his potions stores. Pulling the necessary items down onto his workbench, he began his routine preparations to restock their stores.
Dreamless sleep was one of the potions he brewed so often that it was almost mind-numbingly easy. His hands deftly chopped and sliced while his mind wandered; making mental note of the ingredients remaining in his supply and planning his next order for more. His mind drifted back to the events of the morning and the familiar face he hadn't seen since his trial and his eyes widened slightly, "Damn," he muttered. He'd been in such a hurry to get away, to keep anyone from witnessing him breaking down, that he hadn't grabbed his book or even thanked her for finding it for him.
He'd have to send her an owl when he returned to the manor.
Summoning a group of vials, absentmindedly, he was startled as one of them dropped from the spell halfway across the room and shattered on the floor. He stared at the broken remains for a moment before banishing them and beginning to ladle the, now completed, potion into the remaining set.
He stared at the spot where the vial had fallen for a moment before opting to place the filled ones onto a tray and carrying them out to the front of the store, pausing only momentarily at the door before pulling it open and continuing through.
"Everything alright?" Mr. Mulpepper asked when Draco set the tray down on the counter beside him.
"Yes," Draco replied softly, "It seems my concentration with spells is not the best today. I was afraid, if I tried to send the potions to you, I would accidentally send them across the alley instead." He chuckled slightly as he spoke but didn't miss the flash of concern on the older man's face.
"Well, since your up here," the white haired wizard said with a grin, "How about helping an old man with the stocking?"
Draco's eyes widened as they quickly scanned over the few customers littered about the shop. "But…"
"The war was over five years ago, son." Draco looked back at the man as he spoke. "I understand your worries but, anyone who won't forgive a child for things he couldn't control, is not a customer I'd want to have in the first place. You've every right to be here; same as the rest of us. Besides," he continued with a laugh, "this old back doesn't need to be bending' over so much to deal with these finicky ingredients anymore. You deal with those and I'll take care of the ones that can handle a little magic use on 'em. What d'ya say?"
Draco grinned fondly at the old man before agreeing and walking away to begin his task.
The rest of the day ticked by uneventfully with Draco splitting his time between helping in the front of the shop and going about his normal tasks in the potions lab. By closing time, though he still tenses when he hears the chime that signals a customer's entrance, he no longer feels the need to duck behind whatever shelf he's near.
"Wonderful work today," Mr. Mulpepper commented as he locked the door behind the last customer of the day. "How'd you like getting out of lab for a bit today?"
"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Draco responded, continuing to make notes on a piece of parchment as he stood before a half empty potions display. "I expected many more problems, to be honest."
"Those who hold grudges are not as numerous as they may seem, son," the old man responded with a smile, casually leaning against a heavy wooden shelf. "Sadly, they are often louder than those who forgive. Now, come on over to the counter and have a seat. I have something I'd like to talk to you about." Noting the slight widening of his employees eyes, the old wizard laughed heartily. "Nothing bad, my boy, I promise. Now come"
Draco nervously sat in the offered chair, staring silently at the older man as he waited for him to continue.
"Your work as my shops potioneer has been exemplary, my boy," the man started with a kind smile. "I don't know if I tell you enough how pleased I was to be able to get a trained master into my shop." Draco smiled at the compliment. He'd been immensely grateful to have been offered the position as the apothecary's potioneer when he'd returned to England from his apprenticeship abroad. "That being said, I am getting on in years and wish to enjoy the remaining time I have left. So I plan to retire after the new year.
"I see," Draco replied sadly, "So you'll be leaving?"
"So I'm currently looking for someone to take over the shop in my absence. My children are not willing to leave their cushy jobs pushing papers at the ministry so, it seems, I have no one to leave in charge of my legacy."
"Will you be looking to hire someone to manage?" Draco felt his stomach drop at the thought. He knew that Mr. Mullpepper didn't hold his past against him as some other employers would have. Bringing someone new in to manage the store could mean that he would soon need to find employment elsewhere.
"I am looking for someone to manage the place, though I'm hoping not to have to hire anyone new." The man leaned forward in his chair, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder. "You have grown into a good man, Draco, despite your name. I would be honored if you would take care of the shop for me once I retire."
Draco stared silently at the man before him, his mind racing, he opened his mouth to reply but was cut off as the man continued, "Now, before you start trying to tell me that this is a horrible idea, let me explain. You understand this store better than anyone other than myself. You have been taking care of inventory and ordering for months now with no problems. Yes, you would have to get used to interacting with customers but, if necessary, you could hire on someone to help you in the front just as you currently help me and I would spend my remaining time here teaching you everything that you don't know about running the place."
Draco ran a shaky hand through his hair and blinked away the tears that sprang suddenly to his eyes. "I don't know what to say."
"You could start by saying yes," the old man replied with a laugh. "Now, of course, I would remain the stores owner until my death, at which point the shop would pass to its beneficiary of course."
"I would be proud to take care of the Apothecary for you, sir," Draco breathed. His mind couldn't quite grasp what he was being told. Once he'd taken the mark when he was sixteen, he had though that his dream of his own apothecary had died. Now it seemed that, though he would not own it, his dream had still been able to become real.
"Fantastic," Mr. Mulpepper exclaimed, clapping Draco smartly on the shoulder as he stood. "We'll start training you up on Monday. You take the weekend to enjoy yourself."
Draco stood and shook the older man's hand, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Thank you, sir."
"Now no more of this sir nonsense, my boy. You're fixing to run this place for me; you call me Tobias."
"Tobias," Draco replied with a laugh.
"See, not so hard now is it. Now get out of here, this old man's ready for a quiet evening with the missus."
With one more firm handshake, Draco returned to the back room to collect his belongings. Walking out the back door, he made sure it was locked up behind him and pulled his cloak back around him before starting back toward the main alley. He paused momentarily before sighing and stepping out into Diagon Alley proper with his head held high, a slight smile still on his face.
He found that, for the first time since his return to England, he was able to ignore the whispers and taunts that came his way.
Stepping into the apparation point, he spun and vanished only to reappear outside the front doors of the manor. His smile faltered as he looked up at the old house.
Steeling himself for what he was sure was waiting inside, he reached out and opened the door.
He was met with silence. He sighed, his eyes closing momentarily as he listened to the familiar sounds of the quiet house and thought about the unexpected turn his day had taken.
He was pulled from his reflection by the click of heels across the marble floor. His eyes flew open to meet their match across the room.
"Mother."
AN: A little bit longer of a chapter this time. I couldn't find a reference to Mr. Mulpepper's first name so I just picked one. If anyone knows his actual name, sorry.