Ravenclaw, short, Enochlophobia, WC: 971
Slightly AU, Draco and Astoria.
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London. The absolute worst place to be in if you're a sufferer of the lesser-known Enochlophobia.
Having the fear of crowds in Europe's most crowded city is ridiculous, I know. And I was the one who booked this idiotic vacation day here. Taking time out from work to go and see the sights a little more - having never been especially interested beforehand. Usually, I catch the floo to the Ministry in the morning, avoiding all of the people. Then I'm in my office before too many other people arrive, hardly seeing anyone throughout the day. I can skip out on social interaction all day if I'm really careful about it. So why I thought this was a good idea is completely beyond me.
Muggles slamming into me from every direction, their heavy shopping bags a threat to my very existence. Idiotic tourists hoarding around for the perfect photograph, clamouring and shrieking like bloody harpies. Bodies enclosing around me, forcing my path a certain direction. Causing my skin to crawl as my eyes squint through the coloured macs towards something other than the crowds; something resembling calm.
My chest constricting, I push my way past a map-gazing family and a couple taking a self in front of the local bank.
I don't know what street I'm on, but at this point it really doesn't matter anymore. I can feel the panic rising like bile to my throat. Elbows knock into my sides, the bleary light from the sun glaring into my eyes admonishingly. Maybe this horrible experience is my punishment.
I wasn't always like this. When I was younger, I didn't especially like a lot of people - one of those stupid things living in a massive mansion. There was hardly anyone around, living in such a big place. New people made me nervous. Hard to believe, I know. I was forced into social engagements at parties, finding that I was bitter and cruel towards others. Not pleasant. I grew into that version of myself, believing that it was the way I just was supposed to be.
Then there was that pesky Wizarding War. The world appeared to collapse around me. Social constructs about class completely gone, ideas of power ruined, the Dark Lord who had oppressed my family for what felt like generations was dead – and for certain this time. I didn't have friends. Harry Potter saved my life. It was an embarrassing and shame-filled day for many reasons besides just those. In the sunlit moments after the war was over, the battle forces went to the Great Hall, seeking out the dead and families. The shock hit me more than anything, as my mother's hand brushed the grit from my hair. I felt as though I was suffocating, dying, over and over. I didn't want her touch. I didn't want her kind words. I didn't want the looks I received from every pair of eyes that cautioned in my direction. A sheer force of panic overtook me in such a rushing, gentle way that I was even more confused. In the Great Hall, I slowly panicked my way into solitude.
And now I'm here. Pushed and pulled like a piece of stringy bread as people around me force me to live out the worst feeling in the world. That feeling that makes me wonder how many showers I'm going to need, how many times I'll scrub my hands in order to just be able to breathe fully and completely. Stumbling blindly through the maze of bodies –
"Oomf!" I shout out as a short, stout man shoves his way practically through my left side, storming on ahead into the group of German tourists being led by a tall man in a bright green cap. Crap, oh crap indeed.
The gravelly road hits my face, several people trampling over me in their haste to ignore me. Great. Just bloody great. I try to shuffle out of the way of the conveyer belt of people, glaring out the man who knocked me down.
"Oh goodness, are you alright?" a woman's voice bursts through the din.
"Fine – oh…"
Breath and sense leave my body all at once.
"Come on, let me help you up," the woman says, offering her small hand to me. I take it without really thinking, my stomach churning from nervousness. She's stunningly beautiful. Kind-faced, smiling, with eyes of clearest blue. People skirt around us, glancing backwards. Probably just admiring the magic here, the sparks flying between us.
"You're amazing, thank you." The words slip out before I can control a response. Not that I could have said something better. The brightest grin breaks out over her face, and the crowds around us seem to dissipate a little bit more. Just like that, I'm smiling a little bit too. I let go of her hand, all too aware of how sweaty mine are becoming. "I'm Draco," I introduce myself.
"Draco Malfoy?" she asks. Oh, good Merlin. This cannot be happening. "Did we go to Hogwarts together?"
"Sorry?"
Too shocked to register Hogwarts and my response (yet again, idiot), I blurt the first thing in my head.
"You don't know Hogwarts. Oh, goodness me," she laughs lightly.
"No! No, I do!" I say, throwing my hands out as she reaches for her pocket, which I know would contain a wand. "Hogwarts, yes. I was just surprised. Most people think of my parents before they think of me."
"I wouldn't want to be defined that way, so I won't define others in the same way," the woman answers pragmatically. I let out a shaky laugh, relieved. Who is this woman? "I'm Astoria. Astoria Greengrass."
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Thanks for reading!
