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Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate	By : Jitterbug Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 3341 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Draco Malfoy and his Unknown Fate:

Author’s Notes: Here’s the next chapter and I’d like to take the time to thank all the generous readers who reviewed the story. So, Thank You! And there’s another Harry sighting.

Warnings for this chapter: brief, brief mention of incest, but it’s not any main characters so no worries.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I’m merely borrowing them for the time being. This will be slash (eventually). Don’t like it? Don’t read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

The summer lumbered on, each day blurring into the next. Draco’s shelves became organized bit by bit and before he knew it he was tucking away the powder of Zebra hoof at the very back corner of the shop. With that most daunting task finished, he only had to keep the shop neat and help the customers when Stephen Slug or Arsenius Jigger were otherwise occupied. On Thursdays he had to help stock the shelves with ingredients which sometimes required heavy lifting and on Mondays Snape dropped by to check up on him and insult him in a way that was almost fond. Other than that the days were filled with relaxing uniformity. Things had slowed down considerably, but when Stephen’s father Stanley dropped that by that Tuesday they stopped all together.

Stanley Slug was a tall, broad shouldered man with a small paunch and a well trimmed beard. His coloring was dark, but not quite as dark or sallow as Snape’s. He was all brown from his weathered, tanned skin to his hair and eyes and he had a jovial smile for everyone. Draco was summarily given the day off while the family went to catch up. Draco frowned sullenly, but did as he was told all the same. He felt left out and alone. Still, he knew when he wasn’t wanted and he exited the shop after just a bit of loitering, because the warm atmosphere was so nice and he couldn’t quite help it. Eventually he dragged himself out of the shop and stopped by the Leaky Cauldron to grab a handful of change.

He needed to cheer up and some ice cream was just the thing to do it. Smiling to himself at the thought of a well deserved treat, he shucked his over robe and peered at his clothing for a moment. Ever since Lydia had pointed it out, he was more conscious of how he tended to wear formal clothes. Draco, deciding that his outfit was appropriate for work, but not play, changed. And considering the weather, he finally settled on a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt, but rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and kept it un-tucked and the top two buttons undone. The white shirt was made of a very fine, thin fabric and it clung to his shoulders and upper arms. Not that Draco minded, because that heavy lifting had at least helped out his formerly scrawny physique. Draco didn’t believe he’d ever been brawny, but he could settle for lithely muscular.

Feeling a bit better, Draco made his way towards Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor where a few witches were tittering to themselves at a nearby table. A few people had decided to get ice cream, which wasn’t surprising considering what a clear, sunny day it happened to be. A dwarf stomped by, licking at a cone of something with nuts that kept falling off and getting stuck into his beard. Draco smirked at the little man and sauntered towards the counter. ‘I’d like whatever he’s having.’ He drawled and tipped his head to the old wizard who had just ordered before him. Whatever it was it had about five different colors and it looked delicious.

‘Right, then. Here you go.’ A bit terse, but at least he got a smile this time. Draco nodded his thanks to Florean, paid for his treat, and found a small table to perch at and lounged back to watch the witches and wizards go by. Ordinarily he’d be cooped up in the shop and it was nice to be out and about for once. There were a lot of people to watch and Draco took in the variety with a small, satisfied smile. It would help him pass the time.

Several minutes passed by while the Slytherin savored his treat in watchful silence. Draco grimaced as a witch in olive green robes with bright pink lining strode by. ‘Color blind?’ He absently guessed out loud and was startled when someone snorted in laughter. He turned and blinked in surprise at Potter. He considered insulting the boy as usual for a moment, before deciding against it and turning his face back to the crowd. Potter had seen him at his weakest and it really didn’t encourage anything other than uneasiness and self-loathing so Draco kept to himself.

A few minutes later Florean Fortescue himself exited the shop and approached the Boy Who Lived with a bright smile that made the one Draco had received earlier positively surly. ‘Here you go Harry, free of charge. With extra fudge, just the way you like it.’ The beaming and brown nosing made Draco feel nauseous and he pointedly turned his back on the two, concentrating fiercely on his ice cream while they conversed. He hated Potter, not because of Potter himself though the Gryffindor could be horribly irritating, but because of how he was treated. Draco, as a Malfoy, had always been whispered about in dark tones. ‘He’ll end up just like that father of his.’ ‘He’ll come to no good, I can tell you that.’ And, ‘He’ll be a Dark Wizard no doubt, and a Death Eater to boot.’ He’d heard them all.

But as a child he had also heard the reverent, awe filled voices praising the mysterious Harry Potter. ‘He was the boy who lived’’ Even before the words became a title that lost meaning through over use. He could still remember at the age of five, the proud voices of two witches discussing him. ‘He saved us all, that little blessed boy.’ And all Draco got was angry glances and wary looks, though they were eager enough to suck up to his father. Potter was practically worshipped and he had the things Draco most desperately wanted. Attention, influence, respect, power and love and he never did anything more than lie there as an infant while his mother sacrificed her life to get them.

Draco was working himself up into one of his dour moods, but it was all blown away by the familiar face in the crowd. ‘Pansy?’ The girl turned her attention away from the piles of shopping bags in her hands and squealed in delight at the sound of his familiar voice. Pansy swiftly made her way towards the outdoor tables of the Ice Cream Parlor and brightened visibly when she finally saw his pale figure.

‘Draco! Whatever are you doing here? Oh, love the shirt! Give us a hug.’ Draco rolled his eyes and put on a grimace for show while his friend embraced him in a whirlwind of expensive robes and perfume. ‘Watch the ice cream or I’ll smack you silly.’ Draco, taking the warning for what it was, (A serious threat) immediately moved the sweet out of the range of her new robes.

‘So, out shopping are you? Go on and show it all off, I know you’re dying to.’ He suffered through fifteen minutes of her nattering on about her clothes and the newest styles while she waved about clothes of various colors and textures excitedly. He nodded and let his eyes wander while she chattered at him brightly. He managed to eat a good deal of his ice cream while she blathered on.

She finally wound down and sighed, sitting back with a smile. ‘Why haven’t you owled me? Letters are meant to be responded to you know. It’s been a week and even you aren’t usually that lax in writing back.’

Draco winced. This was the exact conversation he really didn’t want to have, but there was no use in avoiding it. Pansy would bludgeon him to death with her shopping bags if he didn’t tell her and she did deserve to know about it all. ‘Well, about that. It’s probably because I’m not living at the Manor anymore. Father threw me out on my tail.’

Pansy sat up in shock. ‘Oh, Merlin. What happened?!’ She looked so concerned for him, it made his face warm as well as a tiny bit of his heart.

He sat back, licking at his ice cream so he’d have a minute to think through his words. ‘Well,’ He said slowly. ‘He found out about my’ preferences.’ There, enough to tell her why he’d been disinherited, but discreet enough that no one else eavesdropping would understand. Potter was looking entirely too interested in his summer homework, which meant he was obviously listening in despite his Gryffindor morals. Potter could mouth platitudes all he wanted, but when it really came down to it he broke the rules as well as basic etiquette just as often as Draco himself. Draco had a sneaking suspicion Potter would have made a damn good Slytherin, but kept it to himself lest he be lynched by Snape or his House mates. At any rate, Pansy was smart enough to read between the lines.

Pansy had known he was as bent as a nine bob note for as long as he could remember. She had probably known about it before he did. The first time she saw him at the age of seven he’d refused to play in the mud with Goyle because he hadn’t wanted to get his new robes dirty and instead had spent time clambering up into the laps of various nannies. Draco had never joined in on the various games of tag and chase, though he had occasionally lowered himself to tripping other boys while his counterparts preferred to pull pigtails. Draco suspected she might even have realized it then as she had been a very worldly seven year old due to the fact her thirteen year old sister Daisy often spoke to her like an equal. Unlike Draco’s bigoted father however, she wasn’t bothered by it at all. In fact, it had pleased her because she was head over heels for Snape, but the Potion’s Master wasn’t a proper match at all. Teaching was almost as bad as being a servant in the eyes of the elite, no matter how old the Snape family was. Of course, Snape had no clue that Pansy wanted to bag him, but Draco had no doubt she eventually would. When it came to men the Parkinson women were not to be denied.

At any rate, before he’d been disowned Draco had needed a wife who understood the fact he could never be attracted to her and Pansy needed a husband who would let her take a lover and not resent it deeply. It had been a perfect match, but now it would never work because once Draco was disinherited he was a worse match than Snape himself which sort of defeated the whole purpose. And the likelihood of her finding some other boy who’d let her screw around with the greasy former Death Eater was next to nothing. Draco personally didn’t see the appeal, but it took all types and Pansy put up with so much from him he really felt it better to keep his opinion to himself. Plus, she punched like a boy.

‘Oh no. No. What happened? Did he hurt you?’ Draco could accept worry from Pansy much better than he had from Lydia, because it was Pansy and she always worried. About everything at all times. Anyone else and he’d probably snap their heads off. It felt nice though, to be the recipient of it even if it was a common occurrence.

Draco shrugged, not showing how much it touched him that she’d let herself get emotional in public over him. He knew, from his mother, how big a faux pas that was when it came to women of Pansy’s standing. Not that Pansy had ever really followed that particular rule. ‘Just smacked me around a bit more than usual, not that he does it that much to begin with. Just enough to give me ‘character’.’ He rolled his eyes to demonstrate his beliefs on that particular bit of hogwash most of the older pureblood families believed was the cornerstone of raising a child. ‘And before you start hyperventilating, I’m not living on the street. I’m staying at the Leaky Cauldron and working at the apothecary to pay for it all. I’ve got a bit saved up from my allowance and birthday money anyway. It’s not much, but I’ll survive.’

‘Oh Draco, how awful.’ She cried, as if living in the street was actually preferable in her opinion. ‘The Leaky Cauldron?! Even the Weasleys have stayed there. You poor thing.’ Finally, she realized what Draco’s disinheritance meant for her and her plans to seduce Snape. ‘Oh, Morgana. What’s mother going to say when she hears about this? What am I going to do? I can’t marry someone else, they’d never understand!’ Pansy was wringing her hands, shopping bags forgotten.

‘Hey, calm down. I’ve been thinking it over, and Boot will make a likely match. He’s a pureblood, fairly wealthy, can trace his lineage back farther than a dozen generations and he fancies his half-sister Silvia, which means even if he won’t like you taking a lover blackmail is always an option.’ He patted Pansy awkwardly on the back when she broke into tears of relief and tried to pretend he didn’t know her, gazing at the other customers so he couldn’t see her blotchy face.

Potter was staring at him in horrified fascination, obviously having overheard everything. Draco stared at him challengingly until the dark haired boy looked away with pink cheeks. Draco went over the previous conversation in his mind, smirking when he realized Potter would think he had told Pansy about Terry Boot so he could be her secret, disreputable lover. A notion so farfetched he almost laughed out loud.

Pansy looked up finally, gathering her composure. She settled one hand on his forearm, smiling gratefully. ‘Oh, but you’re so sweet sometimes.’ Draco scowled ferociously, insulted to his core.

‘Sweet? Sweet?! I resent that! And if you tell anyone I’m sweet I’ll start telling everyone you think Snape’s the sexiest thing since Lockheart.’ Pansy gasped in outrage.

‘You, you wouldn’t dare!’

Draco smirked and yanked on one of her perfectly styled curls, ducking the punch she threw at him. ‘Oh, wouldn’t I? Just try me. No one spreads it around that I’m sweet and walks away unscathed.’

She pursed her lips, looking like she was trying not to smile. ‘Well, then. I take it back. You’re a mean, nasty, evil, black hearted villain that has never comforted me when I was crying, tutored Crabbe and Goyle so they’d pass Potions, or had a stuffed owl named Hooty.’ Draco blushed, mortified beyond belief and glanced at Potter who was struggling not to snicker. He had only been play fighting with her, but she unknowingly had crossed a line.

Did she not realize they had an audience?! Potter could use that information to taunt him for the rest of his life! He let his voice be ice icy, the anger he felt poorly hidden beneath the coldness. ‘I comforted you because I didn’t want you sniveling in public in my company, and as for Crabbe and Goyle it wouldn’t do to have the two dunces fail, would it? And I was six when I had that stuffed owl, so keep your bloody sentimentality to yourself.’

Pansy raised one eyebrow and her voice was painstakingly neutral when she finally spoke. ‘Are you quite finished pretending that you are your father?’ Draco glanced away, a bit ashamed of himself and then angry at the shame, though the anger was directed at himself. Because that’s what he had done and though Pansy could be shallow at times she didn’t deserve to be treated as if she were worthless or stupid. He had discovered that his worst words, the moments at which he crossed the line from pettiness to true malicious cruelty, were usually when he did what he thought his father would do in the same situation. It had caused him to run off at the mouth to Potter and his friends after Diggory’s death and the last time he had done it he made Hannah Abbot lock herself away in the Hufflepuff dorms for three days straight.

‘Yes. I’m quite finished.’

‘Good, I saw a shirt you would look wonderful in. Not that the shirt you’re wearing now isn’t lovely, but another couldn’t hurt.’ An obvious peace offering and a silent acceptance of the apology he didn’t know how to offer.

‘Alright then. But if it’s purple I’m never letting you buy me clothes again.’ They walked off, mood suddenly light as they bickered like siblings while Potter watched on with bemusement from his little café table. He was obviously straining his solitary little brain cell trying to figure out the dynamics of the two Slytherins. Draco glanced back at the other boy and then grinned to himself, wondering when Potter would realize he had chocolate smeared on the tip of his nose.

To be Continued
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Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate