Chapter 3

Shopping was one of Narcissa Malfoy's favorite activities, Azalea learned. She was so picky that she caused shopkeepers to be stressed. One actually started crying. It was quite funny, actually. Azalea didn't find it necessary to laugh. However, Draco found it extremely necessary to laugh his head off and "help" by ordering the shopkeepers to get Azalea more styles and colors of one skirt. Their running around only amused him further. When one tripped and knocked over a series of mannequins, Draco actually dropped the packages he was holding on the floor and doubled over laughing.

Azalea thought he was a ridiculous waste of a man and said so. Draco scowled at her and was about to retaliate when two shopkeepers ran into each other, scattering the clothes they were holding all over the place. Draco laughed even harder and Azalea only rolled her eyes.

"You're being difficult. Can you be any more obnoxious?" Azalea demanded. "They're already making idiots of themselves and you're laughing at them."

"Don't be such a saint," Draco told her. "Plus, if I have to force myself to be here, I have the right to entertain myself."

"What if you worked here and had to please the customers in any way possible?" Azalea suggested. "How would you feel if you were laughed at?"

"I wouldn't be laughed at."

"Oh, really?" Azalea scoffed. "How are you so sure?"

"Because I would never be caught dead working here," Draco said, looking disgustedly at the store. "Low wage workers. Disgusting."

"Well, you're not helping so do everyone a favor and shut up," Azalea snapped.

"What do you mean I'm not helping?" Draco demanded. "I made them get all these patterns, designs, and colors for you."

"I didn't want them."

"Now who's being difficult?"

"You just made them get those patterns for your own personal amusement," Azalea argued. "If you'd like, you could also wear them. You seem to have very feminine legs."

Draco glared at this. "Shut up."

Having successfully insulted him, Azalea got to her feet and moved away to browse through some dresses. Draco watched her analyze a black cocktail dress. He had never met someone so downright depressing in his life. It was slightly annoying. He never once saw her smile since he met her yesterday. Not that he was looking for a smile, of course. He just thought it would be a nice change from the insufferably blank look she always wore. It made it hard to guess what she was thinking. Draco didn't particularly care but it annoyed him and he deplored being annoyed.

Too bad she's got the personality of a wet mop, he thought. She's got an incredible body, he continued to think, taking in her curves and cocking his head to one side as she leaned on her hip to examine a the hem of a dress. Such a pity. Draco didn't understand why she had to be such a boor. Sure, her parents died but is that any reason to hate life altogether? There might have been something else. He just couldn't remember what it was. Draco had heard something about her, he was sure of it. He just couldn't drag it from the recesses of his brain.

"Azalea, dear, are you finished?" Narcissa called, walking closer to Draco.

"Yes, I am," Azalea answered, leaving the black cocktail dress.

"Could we please go home now?" Draco nagged.

"Oh, no, we can't possibly," Narcissa answered as Draco groaned. "I've got one more store to visit. However, since you're tired Draco, why don't you go and get yourself some lunch?"

"Gladly!" he exclaimed jumping to his feet.

"Yes and take Azalea with you," Narcissa said, pushing Azalea toward Draco. "She must be famished."

"Uh…"

"Spectacular!" Narcissa said, heading for the door. "I'll see the both of you later then."

Draco and Azalea looked at each other as Narcissa left. They immediately looked away from each other when they caught each others' eye. Azalea evaluated her options. Of course, she could just leave this dimwit and explore Diagon Alley on her own. He wouldn't stop her from leaving. Narcissa would never know. It's not as if Draco would tell her. She could just go with him and actually eat lunch. That would involve spending time with him and that was strictly out of the question, not to mention utterly disgusting. She could follow Narcissa, pretending she wasn't quite done shopping. Then again, having to deal with Narcissa trying to make her feel comfortable and accepted also was very awkward. Azalea scowled at the lack of feasible options.

"Well, come on," Draco said, heading for the door without a backwards look. "While you think it might be fun standing here and staring at nothing, I'm hungry. So if you're coming, then come on."

Azalea watched him shovel food into his mouth, a look of utter disgust on her face. It looked as if he wasn't even stopping to breathe. It was horrible. She barely even touched the sandwich in front of her. Watching Draco was like watching a deer get eaten by lions. It was utterly horrifying but it was impossible to look away.

"Pig," Azalea muttered, taking up her goblet and drinking from it.

"What did you say?" Draco demanded.

"Nothing," Azalea spoke, poking her sandwich with one finger.

"Whatever," he snorted. "Merlin, I can't believe I couldn't find more enjoyable company."

"You know, it's not as if I wanted to be here!" Azalea snapped.

"Really?" he challenged. "Where were you supposed to be then?"

"I was supposed to be in Bulgaria enjoying myself!"

"Then why are you here?"

"Because-ˮ

Was she really going to tell him? Was she going to let him bully her into telling him all the humiliation and pain she's had to go through the past couple of months? Was she really going to tell him that she eloped to Bulgaria only to find that the man that she thought she loved would reject her? Was she really going to tell them that she came back to England ashamed and humiliated with her reputation hanging in shambles? Was she really going to tell him that she had nothing to left and her parents died and she never once thanked them? Was she going to tell him that?

"Because why?" he egged.

"Nothing," Azalea said, looking away.

"Pathetic," Draco commented, taking a sip out of his goblet.

"You don't know anything about it, so shut up!" Azalea shouted.

"I-ˮ

Draco immediately stopped talking. Azalea turned to where he was looking. His mother was walking toward them, a smug look on her face. Draco gave her a look that clearly said that they would continue this later. Can't wait, she thought sarcastically. They both stood up as Narcissa approached.

"All done eating?" she asked pleasantly, looking from Draco to Azalea and back as if trying to decipher something.

"Yes, we're finished," Draco nodded.

"Well, then, shall we go home?" Narcissa questioned.

"Yes," Draco said all too eagerly.

"Unless Azalea has somewhere else she wants to visit." Narcissa said, smiling at Azalea. Draco gave her an extremely cross look.

"No, I don't," Azalea spoke.

The Malfoy Manor was stark and quiet as usual. Azalea started for the stairs with the intention of holing up in her room until dinner time. However, Narcissa blocked her way.

"Today was extremely fun, dear," Narcissa said, tucking back Azalea's hair behind her hair. "I never knew what it was like to have a daughter until today. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Narcissa patted Azalea on the cheek. She smiled at her son who watched with interest. Draco watched his mother climb the staircase and walk out of sight. Draco turned his attention back to Azalea with the intention of saying that he would never in a thousand years want a sister like her. But the look on her face stopped him.

She was staring out to nothingness with an almost pained look on her face. It was as if she was remembering something utterly devastating. Draco stared, feeling himself getting slightly aggravated. She was always sad! Draco was about to tell her to snap out of it when an incredibly squeaky voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Master Draco," the house elf, Lilu squawked.

"What?" Draco demanded.

"Master Draco has guests," Lilu informed him. "His friends have paid him a visit."

"There you are!" a laughing voice called. "We've been waiting for half an hour, Draco!"

Draco looked up to see Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Astoria Greengrass walking toward him. Lilu disappeared obediently. Draco's eyes immediately drifted to Astoria. She was very petite but her face was incredibly striking. There was something sharp about her features. Her extremely light blonde hair gave her an added sharpness. She was wearing a tight red dress and over it was a light black jacket. She looked incredibly good and Draco felt himself smirking despite himself.

Astoria wasn't looking at him, though. In fact, none of them were. Their eyes were on Azalea. Her expression was carefully blank again as she stared at Draco's friends. Before long, she decided to leave and she made to move toward the stairs.

"Wait, Azalea," Pansy said when she sensed that Azalea was about to leave. "We had no idea you were living at the Malfoy Manor."

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy are my godparents," Azalea explained. "They offered to let me live here until I get back on my feet."

"That's very nice of them," Daphne said.

"How are you feeling though, Azalea?" Pansy asked. "We were all incredibly worried about you."

"I'm fine," Azalea lied.

"We're ever so sorry about your parents, Azalea," Astoria added.

"Thank you."

"Yes and we're so sorry about Anton as well," Pansy said.

Silence. Azalea looked as if she wasn't listening anymore. She looked as if she was trying hard to think about something else. Finally, she turned back to the staircase. "Thank you," she answered. "Excuse me."

The five of them watched her ascend the staircase and walk out of sight. Draco sighed and turned his eyes back to Astoria. But Astoria wasn't looking at him. She had exchanged looks with Pansy and Daphne.

"Poor little thing," Daphne commented. "Think of what she went through. Such a shame."

"I know," Pansy agreed. "Can you imagine going through that?"

"I think I would kill myself," Astoria put in.

"What exactly is going on?" Draco interrupted.

"Oh, Draco, don't you listen at all to anything we tell you?" Daphne asked.

"Not really."

"Azalea eloped to Bulgaria only to be rejected by that Anton Elisaveta," Pansy gossiped. "Then she came back and her parents die. It's such a travesty."

Draco looked back up the staircase to where Azalea had disappeared to. He remembered what she said about Bulgaria a few minutes ago. So that's what it's all about, he thought. Well, her situation does suck, he concluded. Draco giving her a hard time about it probably didn't help.

"Well, anyway," Astoria said, changing the subject quickly, "let's not talk of depressing things anymore. Draco agreed that we'd go to the Smoky Lounge tomorrow, remember? Are you going to honor that, Draco?"

"Of course, I will," Draco said, grinning widely at Astoria.

Azalea decided to go exploring in the Malfoy Manor after dinner. There was nothing to do in her room and there was nobody to talk to. She found the music room. It was only occupied by a large grand piano and a large harp. She left the room. She had no mood to make music. She found the library. It was massive. The books interested her but she had no patience for reading that night. She wanted somewhere to drown her sorrows in.

That's when she found the mini bar. That's where she was currently: sitting in an armchair, a glass of Firewhisky in her hand, staring into the embers in the fireplace. She knew she was getting pathetic. She was becoming irritated herself. But it seems that nothing could coax her out of her sad mood. Azalea had no idea what she wanted anymore. She had no idea where she would go from this point. She took a large swig of Firewhisky. She felt the effects of the alcohol begin to seep through to her brain. She felt a sudden calmness as she stared at the embers in the fireplace. Her thoughts began to vanish. Her feelings began to disappear. Ah, she thought, the joys of alcohol…

Draco was frustrated. He really wanted Astoria's attention. But it seems that she just wasn't going to give it to him. It was strange. Girls were usually the ones that came to him. This was new. Draco had no idea what to do and it frustrated him.

He swung into the mini bar and poured himself some Firewhisky. He took a great big swig of it and felt himself calm down by degrees. He looked over to the fireplace and saw a head of dark blonde hair peeking over an armchair. So this is where she was. Draco wondered if she had finally attempted suicide or not. Her room had been far too quiet.

"Hey, don't you know that little girls shouldn't drink so much alcohol?" Draco said to her. "You might give yourself alcohol poisoning."

Azalea snorted in her seat. "Me and alcohol, we're best friends, we are," she responded. "We've spent so much time together."

"You're drunk already?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. "You can't hold your liquor, can you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Azalea said, her words sounding longer and drawn out. "I'm holding my glass just fine."

Draco snorted. "Make sure you don't vomit all over the place," he told her. "Mother and Father won't like that."

"That's fine," Azalea said in an all too serious voice. "The place can have a sip of Firewhisky too if it wants."

Draco looked over at her. She sounded sober enough but her ranting made absolutely no sense. Just how drunk was she? Draco put his glass down on the bar. He walked toward her and looked at her face. She was staring into the fire, the glass of Firewhisky hanging limply from her hand. He bent down and looked her in the eyes. Her eyes seemed to have lost its luster and her face was flushed. It seemed as if she wasn't all there. Draco guessed that she wasn't. She was, after all, drunk.

"I think you've had enough there, Azalea," Draco said, attempting to lift the glass gently out of her hand.

"No!" she said loudly, snatching the glass out of his reach, sloshing the Firewhisky a little. "I haven't had enough. No…"

"You're drunk, you idiot," he told her. "You'll make yourself sick doing this. Come on, enough."

"Don't patronize me," she told him, taking another big gulp of Firewhisky. "You know, you're just like him. You are just like him, you know?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Anton likes to patronize me, too," she said. "He told me… He told me…"

"What?" Draco asked.

"Told me that I'm better off without him," she said, raising the glass to her lips and emptying it. "Told me that it was better off this way. What we had was gone, he said. I needed to stop living in the past he said. Why would he say that? Didn't he tell me he loved me? Didn't he tell me he needed me? Did he just lie? He told me he didn't deserve me. Maybe that was true. But I deserve him. I deserve him. I deserve him. I deserve…"

Azalea pitched forward and landed her forehead on Draco's shoulder. She cried and cried and she probably had no idea why. Oh, fantastic, Draco thought, catching her roughly before they both crashed to the floor. Draco thought what she said was strange and completely pitiful. She had so much pain over one insignificant failure of a man leaving her. Was she really that delusional about the relationship she had with Anton? It was utterly pathetic. She was pathetic and Draco would have said so had she not been on his shoulder, drunk and crying.

"Okay, okay," he said, taking the glass from her fingers and rubbing her back, "enough. Enough alcohol and enough crying."

"I deserve…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, lifting her gently off his shoulder and looking into her face. "I know you do."

Her gray eyes looked dull and sullen. Tears filled her face. She looked tragic, Draco thought, wiping away the tears from her face. Well, I can't just leave her here, he thought with a sigh. The house elves might get bored in the middle of the night. Draco hauled her to her feet and carried her in his arms. He took her upstairs to her room, tucked her in, and turned out the lights.

She really was quite pathetic, he thought turning away from her closed door. But it is quite sad. Who grows that attached to another person?