A week later Draco ventured into Diagon Alley because Ursa was in desperate need of owl pellets and the manor was beginning to get to him again. After leaving the Owl Emporium he began to walk back to the Leaky Cauldron for a quick drink before he returned home. It was on his way to the bar that Draco spotted Victoria in the corner of his eye. He ducked his head so as to hide his face and began to walk quickly in hopes she would ignore him but alas, she seemed determined to bother him about something.
"Being seen with me probably is not the best for your reputation and you being around is certainly not good for my sanity so why don't you just scamper off?"
"Okay, first, I'm not a cat, I don't scamper. Second, it's hard to ruin a reputation that you don't have. But it is sweet of you to worry about me. Third, I came to apologize."
Draco raised his eyebrow with a look of incredulity. "Sweet? No, that would have been sarcasm. Now, why in the name of Merlin's Beard would you apologize to me?"
Tori let out a puff of air. "Follow me; I know just the place where I can explain. I owe you drink anyway for ruining your last one."
"It's fine, I can afford one wasted cup of coffee."
"Just shut up and come with me. Consider it a late birthday present." She added with a wink.
In one, most likely idiotic, moment of weakness Draco gave into his curiosity and followed the aggravatingly mysterious girl.
Tori took Draco out of Diagon Alley and into the middle of Muggle London. Looking at the sheer look of terror on Draco's face Tori let out a twinkling laugh and said. "We're nearly there. It's a little out of the way but the baking is to die for. You like sweets right?"
Draco nodded as he continued to weave through the crowd in an attempt to not touch anyone.
"A lack of magic isn't contagious, you know?"
"I'm aware but where I come from physical contact is used very rare and always means something."
Rolling her eyes Victoria responded with, "Well you aren't there, are you? Loosen up; no one here is out to get you. You are not important to them. You are no one to them, so chill a little? Ah, here we are."
She had stopped them in front of a little coffee shop/ bakery/ antique shop? Muggle stores never ceased to amaze Draco.
"Hey, Alan," she said brightly, "One large caramel latte, one large dark chocolate Mocha chino, and two house specials, please."
The boy behind the checkout counter laughed and asked, "What's the occasion?"
"It's my friend's birthday. Well, it's my make up for his actual birthday."
The two continued to chat and Draco was seriously considering making a run for it but his vow of courage kept him there. At least that's what he told himself. If he had a little less pride he would probably admit that curiosity played a role in his refusal to leave. It was rare that someone offered him an apology instead of demanding one.
"Hey, Draco, I know we're celebrating your birthday and all but I still don't have four arms."
Suppressing a sigh he grabbed the drinks as Victoria balanced two plates of some sweet looking somethings. "I'm hesitant to ask, but what exactly are those?"
"Caramel dream bars, though honestly they're more like the size of bricks than bars. They are delicious. You like Mocha chinos right?"
"I suppose we will find out," he said with a smirk.
"I guess we will. Sorry, I didn't ask but black coffee is just too bitter to drink with these things. Now, I'd like to formally apologize for my behavior last week. I should not have assumed anything about you based solely on that tattoo. I had no idea who you were or what circumstances surrounded your joining. Not to mention the extreme hypocrisy of my actions because I know for absolute fact both of my parents were supporters, though not followers, of the Dark Lord."
Draco was shocked that this girl came from a family of pureblood elitists. It didn't add up, but instead of pushing his luck Draco decided to simply respond with, "Your apology is fully accepted with no contingencies." Draco presented her with his right hand to shake. He was falling back into old pureblood habits and he hoped Tori wouldn't notice. He tried to convince himself he only cared because this was the most human interaction he'd had with anyone but his mother in months.
After the pair shook hands the table became silent. This silence soon progressed into a game of nonverbal chicken to see who was more uncomfortable in the silence.
Draco proved either that he was far more uncomfortable or that, yet again, his curiosity was insatiable when he asked, "I believed last time we met you said your name was Greenwich? There is no pureblood family by that name."
"Oh, yes, well, you see⦠Victoria Greenwich isn't exactly my real name."
"What is it then?"
"Astoria Greengrass."
"Greengrass? As in Daphne Greengrass?"
"She'd be my older sister. She's the one who stuck up for you by the way. You might owe her a thanks."
"If you're Daphne's sister I would have heard of you."
"Not necessarily-" Astoria was promptly interrupted by an incredibly annoying buzzing of some sort. Astoria leaned over and grabbed a small black box. "Oh I'm sorry this is important, I'll tell you that story later okay? Owl me the next time you can meet up," she said passing him an address on an envelope.
"I am always free," Draco responded surprising even himself with how willing he seemed to continue this odd acquaintance.
"Well, then I'll owl you. Keep the address, though, you might need it. I really have to go now, bye. See ya, Alan," she threw the farewell over her shoulder as she got out some change and continued to stare at the black box. Odd. That was the only word Draco could think to describe the newly discovered Greengrass girl as.
Draco finished his decidedly delicious coffee, then he stood and left the building to go home.
After arriving at the manor and saying hello to his mother and feeding Ursa Draco retired to take, in what his eyes, was a well-deserved nap.
When Draco awoke he returned to his daily duties. He made sure the house elves were taking care of themselves, regardless of his opinions of the creatures, happy and healthy workers are better workers. His father and the Dark Lord both failed to grasp that seemingly simplistic concept. While in the kitchens he asked Lolly, Narcissa's favorite house elf, if his mother was eating and being regularly active. Lolly assured him again that his mother was taking care of herself like she always had. One small bout of sadness in the mourning of her sister was not a sign of chronic depression. Draco conceded and left for the library.
He was more than a little confused about how he could've never heard of Astoria before. He knew the name, wealth, age, and hair color of every pure-blooded girl young enough to marry him by age ten. He scoured the library reading every family tree he could find and Astoria was nowhere. He supposed she could have been lying but he didn't think so. Her demeanor too often regressed into that of well-bred pureblood and her apology was straight out of the wizarding society handbook. Also, he knew for a fact Daphene was one of the few of his classmates who didn't blame him for the outcome of the war. That's the thing about being terrible at being a death eater, both sides of the war hate you.
His extensive research turned up nothing. Astoria didn't seem to exist. Draco had always been a curious person but knew how to put his best interests ahead of it. This girl seemed to have extinguished his survival instinct and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.
After hours of searching, Draco had resigned himself to waiting for her to tell him the story herself. He regretted telling her to pick the time they would meet. He did not like being at the mercy of another's whims but he supposed there was no way to help it now. Deciding to go to bed early because his day had been excessively eventful for, Draco returned to his room. After changing into his black silk pajamas and grabbing a favorite book Draco settled into bed. An hour or so later, as he was about to drift off an owl started to tap on his window. Draco got and walked to the window. He opened it and after grabbing the letter got a couple of owl pellets and water for the owl. He was glad he had remembered to get more that morning. He opened the note which seemed to be on a scrap of paper and written in some sort of gray, flat ink. It said only Next Tuesday, Outside of the Cafe, 9:00 am.
Draco smirked, let the owl out, and went back to bed.
