i s o b e l
Isobel Apparated to London the following day. She could not allow herself to wait any longer, for fear of losing the courage Ginny had inspired in her.
It was strange to be on this side of the road. Draco's apartment building seemed suddenly very big, as she climbed its stairs - much more intimidating when she wasn't stood in the comfort of her shaded street corner.
The building's glass doors were locked. On the adjoining brick wall were small columns of numbers and buttons, which she assumed made up a kind of muggle doorbell system for the apartments. Of course, she didn't know Draco's apartment number, and had no desire to ring one of his neighbours. So, she glanced around her to check that nobody was watching, waved a discrete Alohomora at the lock, and pushed her way into the apartment building.
The building's lobby was a small, dimly-lit space, crowded with rows of wooden post-boxes. Isobel moved quickly across it towards a narrow stairway, not allowing herself time for hesitation.
If Draco's apartment was on the third floor, directly over the apartment front doors, that meant taking a right after the stairs.
Which meant - that this was his door, here. Secluded at the end of the third-floor corridor. Rickety, white, wooden - and so terrifying.
Isobel took a deep breath. She hadn't a clue of what she should say to Draco; had been to afraid to plan it out. She had hoped that once she saw him, the words would start flowing, but now she wasn't so sure.
She dropped the hood of her coat.
She was wearing makeup for the first time in a long while, which felt heavy on her face, now. Also, it had taken her over an hour that morning to pick out an outfit - all to meet a boy she couldn't even remember. She had no explanation for that.
Except for - what if Draco took one look at Isobel Young, and decided he didn't want her anymore?
"Be brave, Gryffindor," she mumbled aloud. Then she raised one fist, and knocked sharply on the door.
And nothing.
She knocked again. Minutes passed - or possibly, very long seconds - but nothing happened. Nobody came to the door.
He wasn't home.
She almost laughed at the absurdity of it. It had taken her months to gather enough nerve to speak to him, and for the first time in all her visits to his apartment, he wasn't there.
A door swung open behind her and she turned quickly, half expecting to see Draco emerge. But instead a kind-faced, curly-haired woman smiled at her, lingering in the doorway of a neighbouring apartment. "Hello," said the woman. "Can I help you?"
Isobel hugged her coat around her, feeling self-conscious. She nodded at Draco's door. "Do you know if he's home?"
"The boy that lives in that apartment? He just left, actually, around twenty minutes ago. I don't know him," said the woman, by way of confession, "but I heard him go."
"Right," said Isobel. "Okay. I'll just go, then -"
"Are you a friend of his? Girlfriend?"
Isobel felt her face heat up. "Yes. I mean - I'm a friend. You've never met him?"
"Never," said the woman, contemplatively. "And he's lived here for over a year. It is so strange, you know. I've met so many of the other neighbours, but he and I keep missing one another."
