Wednesday, October 18, 2001
Whenever Draco left home, he was usually with either Hermione or Harry or one of his friends. Theo, Astoria and Pansy had become regular fixtures in his life and their home, and it made him feel considerably less like a convict out on loan and more like a real human being. Sometimes he would floo to their houses instead or meet them in Diagon Alley for lunch.
Hogwarts was a quick floo away and Draco was generally left to his own devices in a small room on the main floor where he would brew in private and confer with the professors of the exams he was taking first on his study schedule.
Today, Draco was alone and had nothing in particular he needed to do. Hermione was on lock down to finish an article for Transfiguration Monthly that she'd committed to and Harry was with Teddy Lupin, his godson and Draco's cousin. The two had met the month before but despite everyone's hopes, something about the blonde scared Teddy and the two couldn't be in the same room without the toddler screaming his head off.
So, Harry was with him and Draco was alone. And starving.
Quick kip into the Leaky, a stop at the Apothecary and maybe a peek into Obscurus and then I'll come straight home.
Draco took the floo and arrived at the quiet pub. It was just after the usual lunch hour crowd finished up so only three or four tables were occupied. Draco found a small booth in the back and ordered his lunch with a pint and settled in. Tom the barkeep delivered the drink and food without a smile, but he also didn't sneer, so Draco chalked it up as a win and bit in.
He didn't notice the whispers by wizards and witches across the room, but they were only whispers anyway.
When he finished with his meal, he walked to the bar and paid directly, leaving enough of a tip to maybe warrant a smile from the old man in another month or two, and made his way to the back alley. Three up, two across.
The alley was rather full for the middle of the day, but Draco tried not to linger long. While his robes were fairly regular, a dark green with black toggles, his trademark Malfoy hair was bound to draw attention if he loitered too long. He slipped into the dimly lit, musty shop and got the beetle eyes he'd run out of and some salamander blood because it was on for a good price. The shop keep gave him a small smile, one that encouraged Draco, who grabbed some dried billywigs to boot because they were close to the counter and were not on for a very good price. His wares in hand, Draco returned to the Alley and looked around.
It was a gorgeous sunny Wednesday afternoon and the crowd had thinned somewhat, so Draco could take a moment to enjoy the smell of the candied apples from the cart several feet away and the sight of varied colour leaves swirling around in the wind. Smiling softly, he decided a quick trip to Scribbulus Writing for a treat quill wasn't out of line.
The proud owner of a lovely new peacock quill, Draco made his way down the road to Obscurus books, feeling better about his trip out alone than he had since he decided to do it. He was sure if he detailed the accomplishment to Hermione, she'd be willing to cook him more of that delicious pasta from the other night. Humming, he entered the bookshop and peeked through the aisles, finding two books – one he was recommended and one he thought Hermione might like – and went to the desk. This shop keeper was less kind than the last two, refusing to smile to Draco who kept a nervous smile plastered to his face, and wrapping the books up shoddily before pushing them at Draco and waving at him to leave.
Refusing to let his good mood be ruined by the shop keeper entirely in his right to be afraid or angry or maybe both, Draco thanked him and left. He walked to the middle of the road and stood for a moment, deciding if he wanted to Apparate, floo, or maybe try his luck with walking. He could always slip into an alley along the way if he got tired or lost and who knew when he would next have a quiet afternoon alone like this again?
"Hey you, Death Eater!"
Draco turned around and found a group of twenty or so come at him, some with brooms and one man with what appeared to be a pitchfork. Draco was pretty sure he wouldn't be stabbed in broad daylight but didn't really want to take that chance.
"Who do you think you are, baby killer?!"
More people came rushing from the far side and before Draco could make a break for it, he was effectively surrounded. The people around him were jeering for the most part, some swearing. Over the heads of several short witches, Draco could see someone take their kids and walk in the other direction, away from the fracas.
"My husband was Ernie Halloran, did you kill him?" one woman demanded, forcing her way to the front of the crowd with an expression torn between disgust, fear, and hope.
"What? I – no, I never knew your husband," Draco answered, immediately asked by a half dozen others about their loved ones and if he didn't do it then did he know who did. Draco tried to apologize and make his way through the crowd when one man full body thrusted Draco to the ground, spitting on him as he felt his shoulder crunch against the cobblestones.
"Please, I just want to know what happened to my baby girl!"
Draco couldn't handle all these people yelling, their hope and disgust being thrown at him as they tried to find out about missing children and dead relatives. He stayed on the ground, his beetles spread out in front of him and the wrapping on his books undone. The screaming intensified when he stopped answering their questions, chanting to himself from the ground that they'll leave, when the kicking started.
"Oi! You lot, what the hell is going on here? Get out of here!"
Draco had covered his head by this point, afraid to move a muscle as a throbbing in his lower chest started to affect his breathing. He didn't see the sparks being launched over his head but he did hear the canon like explosion that followed, and slowly sense the crowd around him disperse. He kept his head down and waited until all there was left were the regular alley noises, owls hooting and robes rustling as people walked past. He finally braved a peek and found Ginny Weasley sitting cross legged on the ground beside him.
"Oh, of all the people I would save from an angry mob," she muttered, resting her cheek on her fist, her elbow propped up on her knee. Draco rolled onto his hands and knees, trying to take inventory of his injuries and figure out how he had shut down earlier so that it wouldn't happen again next time. Luna's going to have a field day with this tomorrow.
He could feel a loose rib move and let out a sharp hiss from the pain, which led to a fit of coughs that sputtered blood onto the cobblestone.
"Holy, you just let them have you, huh?" Ginny asked, watching him from her spot at his side, doing nothing to help.
Draco shot the contemptuous witch a glare as he fought to catch his breath, eventually working his way up to his knees. With his wand hand barely shaking, he used some of the minor healing spells he felt confident using on himself and turned to address Weasley, noticing she had grabbed the books he'd just bought and was reading the back covers.
"Plumbing the depths of Mermish conjugation? Think you can get away from your past if you join the merpeople?" she taunted, turning towards the second book. Draco rolled his eyes, evaluating whether or not the beetles were worth repackaging or if he should just cut his losses and get more later.
"It's actually for Hermione. Ron got her a book on the basics of Mermish but she's been complaining it doesn't cover the written language well enough for her to grasp it or some such nonsense," Draco answered, pleased to find that his quill and the other potion ingredients were unscathed. He reached out and took the Mermish book from the young red haired woman and waited as she finished reading the back of the other.
"Pride and Prejudice? Guessing this one is for Hermione too, because I still have her copy. Thinking she doesn't expect me to ever give it back," Ginny assumed, her tone belying the hurt underneath "It's good. I finished it last week," she added as an afterthought.
"Actually it's for me. Hermione said it's one of her favorites but she lent her copy out, so I figured I would get my own. But shut up because I don't want to hear about how it's a romance novel again."
Ginny looked up at Draco and just stared at him. He felt like he was in Luna's office, having given a half answer he knew Luna wouldn't be entirely satisfied with. But this wasn't his Mind Healer. This was Harry's ex-girlfriend and Ron's little sister and as much as Draco wanted to hate her for lobbying for him to rot in prison, he didn't really blame her.
Huh, how's that for empathy. Maybe Luna will shut up about my callous disregard for the supporting cast members in my life.
"You're different than I remember."
Draco raised a delicate eyebrow, not really sure what he was supposed to say to that.
"I went to prison because I was willing to do anything to keep my mother alive, Weasley. Sorry if I'm not the villain you had hoped for."
She glared at him after that, handing him back his book and watching as he slid it carefully into his bag with a slight wince as he rolled his bruised wrist in the wrong direction. The ginger climbed up to her feet and waited, watching as Draco did the same, albeit slower.
"Want to get coffee?" Ginny blurted, looking down the alley and away from Draco.
He looked at her, seeing how uncomfortable she looked at the prospect but determined to see it through. Replaying her earlier comments, his best guess was that she finally missed her friends enough to stuff her pride, although seeing Draco get beaten down by an angry mob probably helped.
"Sure," he replied with a sigh, and tucked his bag under his arm and followed her as she led the way.
Authors note: Good news, this chapter is being posted early because bad news, I'm going to be otherwise distracted by work and personal things for the next few days so there will be a small gap in our regular programming but the chapter after this one is 90% done so that will be easy enough to finish and post whenever I find myself some time.