Chapter 4
Draco
Disclaimer: I don't own Jo's characters, places, things, etc. Obviously.
… … … …
Draco knelt beside the brook that flowed through the dragon reserve. He splashed cool water against his face as the sun beat against heavily upon him. He hadn't even been here a day yet and already the heat was getting to him. From the looks of things, most if not all of the dragon trainers were acclimated to the temperature; but compared to dealing with a dragon's fire-breath, the heat was probably hardly even comparable. Charlie had left him on his own today to somewhat wander around the reserve. He knew it was supposed to be a gesture to let him settle in; but really, the time alone gave him too much time to focus on his reason for leaving…Leila. He splashed his neck with water before he plopped his bottom onto the ground beside the water. While he had an interest in dragons before Leila turned him down, the action had caused him to tailspin. He had irrationally come up with a plan B after he had left Leila that night. Normally, he tried to be calculated and well-thought out; but this decision was somewhat rash for him; but really, he couldn't do what she asked to forget it ever even happened. How does one forget a rejected proposal from the only person he has ever loved? That night after he had left her, he lay awake in his bed wondering what caused her to reject him. Only months ago she had been willing to commit her life to him; granted, it was due to a forced engagement as part of a plot to lure Leila's brother to Voldemort. But, did she not love him as much as she thought she had? He knew that she said that she had wanted time to figure herself out; but that was something he wanted to do together with her. Why delay the inevitable? Why couldn't forever start sooner rather than later? It seemed like the more he thought about the situation, the more frustrated he became.
The ground shook for a moment, which startled Draco; but as he looked to the east, he noticed one of the dragons was acting rather ornery. This was the new life he was going to have to get used to. But he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get used to this bloody heat. He could already feel his shirt clinging tightly to his body from his sweat. He wanted nothing more than to discard his shirt; but he knew that he was going to have to wear more layers than he currently was while he worked with the dragons. How they managed to do everything in this heat still somewhat baffled him; but he was told that a few months of misery in the summer gave way to decent temperatures later in the year. Draco heard twigs snapping beside him and turned to see Charlie nearly beside him. He squinted his eyes at the sun's light as the dragon trainer sat down beside him. Charlie tossed something into his lap which Draco picked up and examined.
"What's this?" Draco asked.
"The Muggles call it sunscreen," Charlie said. "The sun can be pretty brutal here and there's no denying it Malfoy; but you're pasty."
"Don't we have some sort of potion or salve in the Wizarding world that will work?" Draco questioned.
"We do; but the dragons don't seem to take well to us using it," Charlie responded. "We found that out the hard way after several blokes started getting burned more often than those who didn't use the potions or salves. So, use the Muggle stuff unless you'd prefer to be a little extra crispy."
"Erm—thanks," Draco said.
"You'd better relax as much as possible because tomorrow, the hard work begins," Charlie smiled.
"At least it should be a good distraction," Draco muttered.
"I need to get back to work; I'll see you at dinner," Charlie said gently slapping Draco's arm with his leather gloves.
Draco waved to fingers starting at his forehead and going straightforward as Charlie stood up and walked away. A few minutes later, Draco stood up and walked toward the bunkroom where he could cool off for a while. He opened the door and stepped across the threshold to the building he would be calling home for the unforeseeable future. Compared to how he normally lived, the place was rather crude and bare; but he supposed living on the run last year with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and…Leila, had prepared him well for this. Besides, it was probably better not to have too many worldly possessions working at such a dangerous place not to mention that most of their time would be spent outside working with the dragons. The main room had a half a dozen bunks with three doors that he wasn't sure where they went. As he crossed the room to the far right corner, he wondered what sort of job he would be doing. He knew his presence here was last minute; but Charlie said that his appearance would be more than welcome, that they could always use a spare pair of hands.
When Draco reached his bunk, he reached under the bed and pulled out his trunk. He took another undershirt out of his trunk so that he could change out of his sweat-drenched shirt. After he unbuttoned his top shirt, he removed it before removing his wet undershirt. For a few moments he stood there shirtless, staring down at the scars that seemed to cover his pale body. His chest was all scarred up. He had multiple faint scars from when he and Harry had their go in the bathroom. From what he had been told after the fact, Harry hadn't known what the spell would do that had caused him to lie all bloodied up on a flooded bathroom floor. If it hadn't been for Snape, he probably would have died that night. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he remembered that night. He hadn't been the only one that was injured that night; he had hit Leila with an Unforgiveable that was meant for her brother. As he tried to get Leila from his mind, he gently traced the most distinct scar on his chest. That one he had gotten when he had pushed Ron out of the way of a knife his deranged aunt had aimed for their group as they were trying to disapparate from Malfoy Manor to Shell Cottage. That knife had dug deep into his chest before it eventually killed his former house-elf, Dobby. But that wasn't the only scar he had from his aunt. No, the one etched onto his left forearm was the most painful to look at. Draco closed his eyes remembering that night when his aunt had carved the word blood-traitor into his arm. As he exhaled deeply, he leaned against the post of his bunk bed and ran his fingers through his hair.
"You vill do vell not to take anyzing else off. Vee do have rules you see," came a woman's voice with a thick Russian accent.
Draco's eyes widened as he frantically looked around the room. A whistle came from the other side of the room to reveal an annoyed-looking woman with dark eyes and her dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. From across the room, he figured the woman couldn't be more than thirty. A blush came over Draco's cheeks as the woman took a few steps toward him with narrowed eyes. The woman walked halfway across the room with her boots clomping across the floor. Draco only hoped that she wouldn't wake up the other three blokes in the room who were sleeping. Charlie had mentioned something about people in their bunk taking the night shift and it looked like without even trying to, he had already pissed one the night shift people off. The woman examined Draco with narrowed eyes.
"Vee keep our shirts on, Pretty Boy," the woman sneered.
"Oh—erm, sorry," Draco apologized. "I didn't realize…"
Draco quickly pulled his white undershirt over his head while his face was flushed pink. After his shirt was on, he took a few steps closer to the woman and outstretched his hand.
"I'm Draco…" Draco began.
"I don't care," the woman snipped.
The woman turned around on the heel of her boots and clomped toward the door. Draco mentally chastised himself for pissing her off. Granted, he did have a talent for being able to do so; but normally he did it on purpose when he had other people to have his back. Here, he only had Charlie Weasley whom he had only known for a few months and he didn't need enemies in a foreign country where he was all on his own. Draco groaned before he climbed up the ladder and onto the top bunk. He was somewhat thankful that Charlie had the bunk below him. At least he knew the person below him wouldn't try to murder him in his sleep. He couldn't say the same for the woman he had just pissed off. After he crawled onto his bed, he cracked open one of the books Charlie had given him on dragon safety. He really wanted to be as prepared as possible for his first day tomorrow. He just hoped they didn't literally throw him to the dragons. He was just thankful that someone was on night shift and he would be working during the day.
Draco sat on his bed reading his book on dragons for about an hour before people began trickling slowly into the bunkroom. He waited for the familiar face of Charlie Weasley to come through the door before he figured out what he was doing next; but the task seemed to be taking forever. First a burly man with graying temples walked through. The man nodded in Draco's direction and Draco nodded back when the door slammed open again. A man who for some reason reminded him of Kingsley was the culprit of the slammed door. He didn't even take one look toward Draco, which Draco wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. The door slam must have caused the other night shifters to wake, because they rolled out of bed and headed out the door and they were soon followed by the two blokes who had come in a little earlier. Draco was left in the room on his own, probably not the best way to make friends. For the most part at Hogwarts, the Slytherins had come to him. He hadn't had to go out of the way to befriend them. No, the only Slytherin that had proven to be a challenge was Leila; but even she caved after years of pestering. Finally, Charlie poked his head into the room and whistled to get Draco's attention.
"Malfoy, dinner's ready," Charlie said. "We're outside waiting for you."
"Oh, sorry," Draco apologized. "I didn't know…"
"Quit making excuses and get your sorry arse down here so we can eat," Charlie chuckled.
Draco jumped from the top bunk and landed firmly on his feet. He then followed Charlie outside. They walked down the steps and around to the corner of the building. There was one large table under the shade of a tree which Charlie walked toward and Draco followed close behind. Draco counted the people at the table and his number came out to be ten, including someone who probably wanted to kick his arse. The atmosphere seemed to be jovial as the group laughed and chatted. When they got to the table, Draco expected the group to quiet down and stare at him awkwardly; but instead, they just continued eating and chatting with each other.
"Listen up you lot," Charlie said.
The group quieted down and looked to Charlie.
"This is Draco Mal…" Charlie began.
"Just Draco is fine," Draco interrupted as he received an odd, yet understanding glance from Charlie.
"Well,' just Draco' is our new…" Charlie started again.
"Dung boy," the woman from earlier answered.
"Dung boy?" Draco whispered.
"You gotta start somewhere," Charlie shrugged. "All right, now for introductions…starting from left to right. Here we have Dirk Keergsan. Don't worry, he supports England in Quidditch."
"You're bloody right, I do," Dirk answered.
From what Draco could tell, the man looked to be in his mid-thirties and judging from the accent, he was hailed from the country Draco also called home. Draco nodded in the man's direction as Charlie's finger then pointed to the man sitting next to Dirk.
"Then we have Pyotr Fyrrd," Charlie continued. "He's night shift lead and supports the Nordic National team."
"And the Karasjok Kites as far as regional teams go," the man said.
Pyotr reached across the table to shake Draco's hand. The man had a thick head of sandy blonde hair with bushy eyebrows and a warm smile on his face. Draco immediately accepted the man's hand and shook it, careful to avoid eye contact with the person next to be introduced. He had already left his first impression with her.
"Svetlana Kirillovsky, she's from Russia; but…" Charlie began.
"Ve've already met," Svetlana sneered.
"Have you now?" Charlie asked.
"Pretty boy couldn't keep his shirt on," Svetlana scoffed.
"I—I didn't…" Draco fumbled.
"She's just trying to get under your skin," Charlie whispered. "She's not so bad once you actually get to know her."
"I'm pretty sure I'll have better luck with the dragons," Draco muttered.
"I'd still remember to keep your shirt on," Charlie said with a wink.
"I didn't do it on purpose," Draco mumbled.
Charlie chuckled and shook his head before he continued to introduce the rest of his roommates. Liang Mei was a somewhat reserved man who hailed from China and was probably in his early thirties. Otto Schlosser was a grey-haired burly man in his fifties with a thick German accent who was the guy in charge of the reserve. Kurt Johnson, a muscular man with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes who was in his late thirties and hailed from the America. Anton Stresky was the name of the man who reminded Draco of Kingsley. The man came from Egypt and was in his early forties. Walter Brigner lead the day shifts and called home Australia which he had lived in for 30 years before he came to the reserve and was going on his twelfth year. Dimitrie Nikolov was the closest in age to Draco at twenty years old and called home Bulgaria. He had come to the dragon reserve after he had graduated from Durmstrang, the school Draco had almost gone to if it hadn't been for his mother. According to Charlie, there was one more bunkmate; but the person was running a little late.
Draco seemed somewhat overwhelmed by all the new people as he sat down beside Charlie and the empty spot on the bench. The table was loaded with food and it looked much like the table did at the Burrow had last night. Had that really only been last night? There was a slight pang in his stomach, which told him that he probably had been a little rash in his decision; but if there was one adjective to describe him, it was stubborn. He knew that he was; but the matter of pride always seemed to get in the way when it came to rectifying the situation. But he hadn't come here to think about Leila. No, he had come here to do the opposite. He came to find something to take his mind off of Leila. Perhaps when he finally started working, then he would find relief from his thoughts about the pretty dark-haired girl with shining emerald eyes.
Draco shook his head as he reached for a steak on a plate in the middle of the table. He plopped it on his own plate as a bowl of potatoes was passed his way. He hadn't realize how hungry he actually was until he looked at the heaping pile of food on his plate which even looked minimal to the two plates Otto had piled high with food. Most of the men at the table instantly dug into their food, while Draco reached for his knife to cut his steak up. After he had one piece cut, he put the meat into his mouth and began to savor the flavor.
"Like zee taste of dragon?" a soft voice with a French accent asked as they plopped on the bench beside him.
Draco swallowed the meat hard as he turned to see a petite blonde woman with striking blue eyes sitting beside him.
"Dragon meat?" Draco choked out.
"Is zat a problem?" the woman asked.
Draco remained silent as he looked at his plate.
"I'm onzee joking, eet's beef," the woman chuckled. "I'm Gracie by zee vay. Gracie Lafayette."
"Draco," Draco said. "Just Draco."
The woman extended her hand for him to shake, which he accepted. Draco looked at the girl's pretty face and felt a sense of déjà vu; as if he had seen this girl before. He must have zoned off on his thoughts because Gracie was trying to release her hand from his. He muttered some apology as a blush creeped up his cheeks. He really hoped that the girl wasn't misreading that as him being interested in her; because the last thing he needed right now was that. He just couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her from somewhere, which seemed completely mental. The conversation seemed to be rather lively around the table; but Draco didn't participate because he felt out of place. Granted, much of the conversation dealt with work and Draco hadn't worked a day in his life. Granted, he had done a mission for the Dark Lord and went Horcrux hunting with Harry, Leila, Ron, and Hermione; but a job that involved manual labor had never really been part of his plans until now. For most of his life he had figured that he would just follow in his father's footsteps and ascend to a job at the Ministry without having to work for it. Now after everything he had been through and being acquitted of the charges against him, he felt like he needed to work for what he wanted. He didn't want things just handed to him. While his father had a last minute change of heart, it still didn't change the reputation he had created for himself and Draco did not want to be his father. Draco wanted people to see him beyond that Malfoy name, which was probably why he hadn't yet revealed his last name. He wanted to give people a chance to know him before they knew of his heritage; which these people may or may not even know about the horrors behind the Malfoy name.
After they had all finished eating, the newest guy was volunteered to do the dishes. It took Draco a moment to understand that they were telling him that he was the one who had to do the dishes. How the hell was he supposed to do the dishes? He had never washed dishes before. While at Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts, the house-elves took care of them and when they were on the Horcrux Hunt Hermione or Leila washed them. Draco didn't want to tell them that he had never done dishes before and reveal that he had lived a pampered lifestyle; but he still scratched his head in confusion. Well, he knew one thing…he needed water to wash them. Charlie must have noticed his confusion, because he walked over and offered to help Draco. Draco thanked him profusely which caused Charlie to laugh. Charlie mostly told Draco what to do and Draco did it; but this worked a lot better than having to do it on his own. Draco levitated the plates to the sink before he started the water. He then pointed his wand at the scrub brush which started to scrub the plates under the running water. As the plates were being scrubbed magically, Draco leaned against the counter as Dimitrie walked into the kitchen.
"Ah, the perks of being the new guy, new guy," Dimitrie said as he slapped Draco's back.
"Wasn't it only yesterday that you were the new guy, Nikolov?" Charlie asked.
"Exactly, so I understand his pain," Dimitrie said.
Just then, Svetlana walked through the kitchen holding a pair of dragon hide gloves with a scowl on her face. Draco took a deep breath and intercepted her.
"Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot…" Draco began.
"I don't have time for zis," Svetlana sneered.
"Well, I just wanted to apologize," Draco said.
"Zen apologize already," Svetlana hissed.
"I'm sorry I…" Draco started.
"Whatever; just stay out of my vay," Svetlana interrupted.
Svetlana pushed Draco out of her way and walked out the back door of the kitchen. Draco shook his head and walked back over to the sink.
"She definitely hates me," Draco said.
"Probably; but I think it's more that she's threatened by you," Charlie responded. "She doesn't want you taking her job because Otto's been catching her slacking lately."
"He's threatened to put her back on dung duty more than once," Dimitrie said.
"What the hell is dung duty?" Draco questioned.
"Your job," Charlie smirked. "That you'll find out all that it entails in the morning."
"You're in for a real treat too," Dimitrie chuckled at his own pun. "Get it?"
Draco didn't understand the pun which Charlie and Dimitrie laughed at, so he turned back to the dishes. He pointed his wand at a towel which began to dry them as his eyes wandered out the window over the sink. To his surprise, he found Svetlana with a smile on her face as she talked with Gracie. Must be some girly thing that he didn't understand nor did he really want to; but he looked to Gracie once more. She didn't look a whole hell of a lot older than he was. If he had to take a guess, she probably was one of the younger people on the reserve; but something about her looked familiar and he just couldn't place it.
"How old is Gracie?" Draco asked.
"22; but I wouldn't get your hopes up," Dimitrie said. "Apparently, she's taken."
"So is he," Charlie chuckled throwing an arm around Draco's neck. "I'm sure you've heard of her too, Nikolov."
"Oh and who is she?" Dimitrie scoffed.
"Leila Potter," Charlie grinned. "Heard of her?"
Dimitrie's jaw dropped before shook his head in disbelief as Draco tried to walk away from Charlie who only tightened his grip on Draco's neck. Draco hadn't the heart to tell Charlie that things weren't what they seemed with Leila. Besides, he wasn't about to spill his problems in front of a bloke he had only known for less than an hour. Dimitrie looked to Draco with a baffled expression on his face.
"This guy, who hasn't even technically started working here, is dating The Girl Who Lived, Gracie gets an international Quidditch star, and I still have no one? I thought the occupation came with benefits. Apparently, I was wrong," Dimitrie said shaking his head.
"I'm sure there's a very unlucky lady waiting somewhere in the world for you," Charlie teased.
"Well, at least I'm not the only one unlucky in love," Dimitrie directed to Charlie.
"But mine is by choice," Charlie said. "Now, we should probably settle down with the early morning we have tomorrow."
"I suppose you're right," Dimitrie sighed.
Draco flicked his wand for the dishes to go zooming into the cupboard before he looked to Charlie who breathed a sigh of relief. He suspected that Charlie was hiding something; but what, he wasn't certain. Instead of confronting him about it, he simply followed Charlie into the bunkroom. It looked like he wasn't the only one who was hiding something. Draco readied himself for bed in the designated area before he crawled into his top bunk. As he lay staring at the ceiling listening to Otto's droning snores, his thoughts went once more to Leila. It seemed like the more he tried not to think about her…the more he thought about her. It had only been a day and he already missed her stunning eyes, her melodious laugh, her beautiful smile…the list could go on and on; but then again, he felt like he had been missing her for some time now. Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, things had been somewhat off between them. He often suspected that neither wanted to bother the other with their grief. He hadn't wanted to pull Leila into the grief he experienced at the loss of his father, especially considering the arse his father had been and he had suspected that Leila had been doing the same with dealing with Fred Weasley's death. So, they had both decided to give each other space to try and deal with their own grief which only led to a strained relationship and for him to insecurely propose to Leila. Hell, he probably wasn't even fully prepared for what marriage would mean; but he would much rather take a chance on it than take a chance on losing Leila. But then Leila turned him down and something snapped and here he was going in circles with his thoughts.
Draco rubbed at his eyes before he turned on his side to fall asleep. When he was asleep, he dreamt about a short emerald-eyed girl with a smile on his face. He awoke the next morning to Charlie pulling his blankets off him. Draco tried to pull his covers back over himself which caused Charlie to laugh at him. Charlie said something about Draco not being much of a morning person before he told him that breakfast was in ten minutes and that if he missed it, he wouldn't be eating until lunch. Rather grudgingly, Draco sat up in bed to find that room was already empty. He groaned before he climbed down from his top bunk and found some clothes for the day. He wasn't exactly sure what kind of clothes he should be wearing for his first day of work, but he tried his best to find an outfit that somewhat resembled Charlie's using his own clothes that Mrs. Weasley had given him from his stay at Shell Cottage. The clothing he was used to wearing would never be suitable for a day's work, so he used the worn but suitable clothes given to him. After he was dressed, he could hear chatter coming from the kitchen. He opened the door from the bunkroom to the kitchen to find a full buffet on one of the counters and his fellow workers, including those who didn't live on the reserve eating their fill. Draco walked over to the counter to grab a plate of food. When he had his plate piled with food, he walked over to where Charlie stood talking with…Walter, was it? Draco couldn't quite keep everyone's names straight. He obviously knew Charlie, Svetlana wasn't hard to find, same with Gracie, Dimitrie because he was closest in age, and finally Otto because he was the boss. Other than that, there were too many introductions for him to keep straight. Draco remained rather quiet, shoveling his food in his mouth as Charlie conversed with Walter, who went by Wally. As Draco set down his plate, Charlie handed him a steaming mug.
"This should probably help keep you awake," Charlie smiled.
"What is it?" Draco asked.
"Coffee," Charlie said. "I know it's not your morning tea or pumpkin juice; but like I said it should get you going Sleeping Beauty."
Draco looked at Charlie and then down at the mug with the dark liquid. He brought the mug to his lips and took a gulp of the scalding liquid that had a bitter taste. Draco winced after the first drink which caused some of his coworkers to laugh.
"That's absolutely horrid," Draco said.
"An acquired taste," Wally said. "One which you should acquire soon."
Draco shuddered before taking another swig of the liquid when Otto walked over.
"Draco, you and I are going to get started early so that I can get back to my own job," Otto said.
"Yes, sir," Draco responded.
Charlie took the mug from Draco's hands before the blonde followed after the burly German boss. Otto marched across the grounds headed straight for the dragon's stalls. Apparently, the reserve wasn't only a place to learn about dragons; but it also had quite a lucrative business selling dragon dung which was used as a fertilizer. Otto opened broom cupboard and handed Draco a tall pair of rubber boots and a pair of dragon hide gloves.
"Put these on," Otto said gruffly.
Draco quickly removed his own shoes and shoved his feet into the rubber boots which went up almost to his knee before he slid his hands into the gloves. Otto then handed Draco a shovel and motioned for him to continue to follow. Draco moved quickly behind the older man until they came to the metal gate of an empty stall. Otto used his wand to open the gate before he levitated a barrel inside.
"So what exactly do I do?" Draco asked.
"You shovel the dung into that barrel," Otto said. "When it's full, get a new barrel. Also, be quick because you have plenty of other stalls to muck out before we bring the dragons back in. You don't want to be doing your job with them inside."
"Can't I use magic?" Draco questioned.
"No," was all Otto answered.
Draco stood there speechless for a few minutes. This really was going to be more work than he had ever done in his life and manual labor at that. His father was probably turning in his grave at the thought of his son doing work just like a Muggle; but Draco was determined. He wanted to be here to learn more about dragons…even if it meant having to shovel dragon dung.
"When you run out of room in the barrel; only then can you levitate the barrel outside the stall and get a new one," Otto said. "Come see me when you finish the inside stalls because you'll have outside pens to get too."
"Anything else I should know?" Draco asked.
"Lunch bell rings at noon and we get an hour break," Otto said. "Now get to work."
Draco nodded his head before Otto walked away. He took one quick glance at the watch his mother had given him for his seventeenth birthday that was carefully hidden under his glove. Merlin, it wasn't even seven o'clock yet and he didn't get a break until noon. This was going to be a long day. Not exactly sure where to start, Draco started shoveling the dung piles which were closest to the barrel. This crap really stunk. How people could actually want to buy this stuff was beyond him. He had worked with some in Herbology at Hogwarts, but never in abundance. The barrel was probably only three-quarters filled when Draco's arms began to tire. But he was determined to do his job well. He was determined to earn his share; besides, even though this job was menial as far as the Wizarding world was concerned, he was getting paid decently…not that money was actually a concern of his. With the inheritance his father left him, Draco was probably set for life; but he needed to prove to others and to himself that he was more than that. His determination kept him going as he finally finished the first barrel, even though he wasn't finished mucking out the first stall. He switched out the barrels and continued to work.
By the time the lunch bell rang, Draco had barreled twenty barrels of dung and his shirt clung tightly to him because of his sweat. He had never been so grateful to hear the sound of a bell before as he leaned the shovel up against the barrel and left the stalls. He walked to the pump outside to wash his hands and press cool water against his forehead before he headed to the kitchen for his meal. There was a line formed outside the door to the kitchen, which Draco joined behind Charlie. Charlie looked at Draco trying to keep his composure.
"I think you missed the barrel," Charlie said trying not to laugh as he pointed to Draco's cheek.
Draco felt his cheek and felt something smudge across his.
"Shit," Draco muttered.
"Literally," Dimitrie piped in. "But its dragon shit if we're being specific."
"I don't think it really matters," Draco muttered.
"Go wash up again and I'll get your plate for you," Charlie said.
Draco muttered his thanks as he walked back over to the pump once more. He supposed he'd have to check more carefully from now on for dragon dung, a hazard that came with the job. He washed his face once more and kept wiping at his face to make sure all the dung was gone. Then he found Charlie who had a plate of food for him. He practically inhaled all the food on his plate when an owl swooped down in front of him. A letter addressed to him landed on his empty place which he immediately picked up. He recognized the scrawl and had to admit that he was curious of the letter's contents, so he returned his plate before he walked over to the brook he had found yesterday because he knew there he would be alone. He sat down on the ground and ripped the envelope open before he read the letter.
Draco,
I know this probably seems weird; but I wanted to tell you that Leila told me about what happened with you two. I'm sorry that things didn't work out the way you wanted them to. If it helps at all, she hasn't really been herself since she found out you left for Romania. A heads up on that would've been nice; but I'm not writing this to criticize you. I'm writing this to tell you that I don't want what happened with you and my sister to affect our friendship. After everything we've been through, I will always consider you a friend or the annoying brother I never wanted. I hope this isn't coming off too creepy, if it is, then feel free to completely disregard this letter.
Harry
Draco folded the letter and set it on the ground before he raked his fingers through his hair. It was good to know that Harry didn't blame him for anything; but if there was anyone who knew Leila better than he did, it was Harry. While he really appreciated the letter from Harry, part of him had hoped that it would be from Leila. But maybe the fact that she hadn't written him was a sign of something. Maybe she was giving up on them; but knowing Leila she was probably taking her time to figure out what was the best thing to do next. Draco turned around when he heard footsteps coming from behind him to see Charlie striding toward him.
"How's Leila taking your leaving?" Charlie asked as he sat down beside Draco.
"I don't know," Draco said. "I didn't exactly tell her."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Charlie asked.
"I suppose you could put it that we had a disagreement and I told her that I was going to Romania in a letter that I gave to my mother to give to her," Draco said.
"That's pretty messed up mate," Charlie said. "Then who is the letter from?"
"Harry," Draco said shaking his head.
"So let me get this right. You got in a fight with your sweetheart and escaped the fallout by coming to Romania?" Charlie asked.
"If you summarize it like that," Draco responded.
"We have more in common than I thought," Charlie muttered.
Draco looked to Charlie as the bell to head back to work started to ring. Charlie stood up and started to walk away before he turned back toward Draco once more.
"Just don't let your stubbornness keep you away for too long unless you're prepared to deal with the consequences," Charlie said.
Draco was going to ask Charlie what he meant when the ginger walked away. What consequences was Charlie talking about and what did he mean by they had more in common than he thought? But Draco knew now wasn't the time to ask him. Draco had his own job to get back to, no matter how much his muscles ached from the hard work. When he reached the stalls again, he put the gloves and boots back on before going back to work. His pace was nowhere close to what he was at this morning and his whole body ached with every time he heaved the shovel into a pile of dung. When he reached the final stall, he found Otto waiting for him. Draco looked at his boss grimly; ready to chewed out for doing his job so poorly; but Otto didn't say anything. Instead he just watched Draco. So, Draco began shoveling once more and to Draco's surprise, Otto started shoveling too.
"I wasn't so sure about you when you came in; but you're determined," Otto said. "You didn't complain once that the work was too hard, which I can't say that about a lot of my workers on their first day. I think you'll work out just fine here Draco."
"Thank you, sir," Draco said.
"And here's a tip for you, start at one side of the stall and work to the other this way you don't have to pick up the dung you drop on a spot you already cleared," Otto said.
"That makes sense," Draco said.
"Oh and Draco," Otto began. "This is a two person job. I just wanted to see if I was going to break you. Most people bet before lunch, well everyone did. Everyone but Charlie. For some reason he seems to think highly of you."
"Can't understand why," Draco muttered.
"Well, Dimitrie will be back here tomorrow to help you," Otto said.
"Thank Merlin," Draco sighed.
"Why don't you call it a day and I'll finish up here," Otto said.
"I think I'll stay and finish what I started," Draco responded.
Otto nodded his head with a slight smile on his face. Draco knew he was going to pay for it tomorrow; but he was going to finish what he started even if it killed him.