Draco

Chapter 1


I regretted having promised Hermione to go shopping with her. After not having slept at all the night before, I was too tired to crawl out from under the covers. Yet I knew I’d been neglecting my friends so often lately that I would have felt too guilty calling it off, and so I ended up forcing myself out of bed. As I stood in front of a coffee shop in Muggle London, where Hermione and I had agreed to meet, I felt as if my eyelids were made entirely of sand. The bright midday sun only made it harder to keep my eyes open.

Why was Hermione late? I was usually the one others had to wait for. I found himself glancing periodically at the shop. I never did like the acrid, burnt taste of coffee; but the aroma that the breeze occasionally carried in my direction did smell delicious, and I could have used some caffeine. When Hermione still hadn’t shown up five minutes later, I decided to go inside and buy myself a cup of strong coffee.

I stood swaying in a drowsy haze while waiting for the line to move forward. It seemed like an hour had passed by before I made it to the counter. But the wait had been worth it, because when I got there I came face to face with someone whom I had come to believe I would only see again in memories and dreams: Draco Malfoy.

I was barely able to recognize him. His platinum hair was unkempt; those silver eyes that had once held so much anger, hatred, jealously, and hurt now seemed void of emotion; his posture was slightly slouched; and his nose was pointed at the ground instead of the sky. At first, I thought my eyes were playing a trick on me, that my imagination had conjured up a sorry image of the bloke I missed so much.

“Draco?” I asked, with the voice of a five year old facing Santa Claus, to my dismay. But he only cast his gaze further down, which I wouldn’t have thought possible.

“May I help you?” he asked. His drawl was gone, and he sounded as though wished I would just disappear. I wanted to say something more, to force him to at least acknowledge my presence, but seeing the way he was fidgeting made me decide against it.

“Just a small coffee,” I said. As I paid our fingers brushed, and his touch sent an exquisite shiver up my spine. I couldn’t help but keep turning my head around to look at him as I left, and much to my surprise I had caught him looking at me, though he immediately turned his eyes the other way.

By the time I came outside, Hermione was there, waiting for me. “What took you so long?” I asked, but the blush that crept over her cheeks told me more than I ever needed to know. Obviously, she had been spending quality time with Ron. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know,” I said. She only laughed in response. I took a sip of my coffee and realized that in my shocked state I had forgotten to put any milk or sugar into it. It tasted absolutely disgusting. Still, I forced myself to drink some—I had a feeling I would be drinking loads more coffee in the days to come.

I wanted so much to tell Hermione about Draco. It was difficult keeping all the excitement inside; but in the end I decided to keep it to myself, for the time being at least. Hermione would undoubtedly want to turn him over to the Ministry, and I wasn’t ready for that. I didn’t want to see him tried, at least not until I found out more about what he had been doing this past year myself.

I went back to that coffee shop every morning after that. Almost a month had passed by and I actually began to like coffee, having tried everything from plain to pumpkin spice latte. He was always there, though he never looked at me when I stood in front of him. I never spoke to him other than to order my drink. I hated myself for it, yes, but I just couldn’t find the right words to say. Not that it mattered. He probably wouldn’t have answered anyway.

One Wednesday morning, he caught me completely by surprise. Just as I was turning around to leave, feeling rather gloomy that I would have to go yet another day without seeing his vacant, silver eyes, he asked me, “Why do you come here?”

“To buy, coffee,” I lied. He nodded softly. If hadn’t known any better I would have thought he was disappointed by my answer. I cursed myself for having lied to him now that he had finally spoken to me. “And to see you,” I added quickly, before it would be too late. He seemed to want to say something, but hesitated. The people behind me were already muttering something about us taking too long. “When do you get off?” I asked.

“In two hours.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Would you meet me here then? So we can talk?” He shook his head no. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. The crowd behind me was growing restless, sighs and complaints becoming more frequent. “Please…”

At my plea, he looked straight at me for the first time. “Okay,” he said quietly, as if he were agreeing to his own death. Despite his reluctance, I couldn’t help the smile that had formed on my face.

Tbc…..