Hiraeth // draco malfoy

ONE

detached

november. 2005
7 years after the battle at hogwarts

A strong wind crashed into the roof of the large, two bedroom flat on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. A gush of breeze coursed through the fire place across the living room, sending a chill through the air of the quiet and untouched apartment. A photo from the table beside the balcony, gently flew with the wind, landing onto the floor. Suddenly, the front door opened, causing the breeze to intensify briefly, before calming.

The man who entered, walked forward, closing the door behind him, and examined the room briefly, before setting down his papers on the kitchen counter to his left. With the sudden movement of his hand, the lights flickered on, illuminating the area. He continued on, noticing the fallen photograph on the floor, and he bent down, picking it up gently. His mother stood beside him in the picture, smiling with the young boy, of only 12, with his school robes on, and Slytherin tie. His innocence was pure, even if his actions weren't as much. Letting out a sigh, he placed it back on the table, and dropped to the chair beside him, settling into the cushions.

His body ached from overworking himself. He had been in New York for only two days, and it's already felt like a lifetime. First it was Phoenix, then Chicago, and now here. Each of these places taking the span of three months of his life. He felt it was a waste of time. He had only found and successfully captured one Potter sympathizer, just outside of Phoenix, in Chandler. But since then, nothing. Yet, he was to remain here in the United States, until further notice.

The best he could do for right now is explore some places to keep from slipping into a madness of boredom, but also, sometimes the best places for hiding, were in plain sight.

Cafes, museums, bookstores, even churches. Anywhere you wouldn't expect a top tier death eater to investigate. But that would begin tomorrow. For now, Draco stood from his seat, with a heavy sigh, and headed to the kitchen. Opening the freezer on the top part of the fridge, he realized he hadn't bought food yet. "Fuck." He sighed, reaching into his pocket, and pulling out a pack of smokes, figuring this would hold him over until the morning.

As he stood out on the balcony of the second story of his flat, he lifted the lighter to the end of the cigarette, lighting it up and inhaling sharply. He stared out to the lively city ahead where cars sped by, and people crowded the sidewalks with loud chatter, and drunken demeanors. The ignorance of these people, was truly bliss. And he envied them. Not for their blood status, as that still weighed in his mind as some sort of importance. But just the simple fact that most of them lived their lives with no worries besides what bar to go to, or who their significant other is shagging behind their back.

He wished that were his only concerns. But he was surrounded by a darkness with a void so deep, he couldn't even imagine what it would be like to live so blindly. "Hey, mister!" A chipper voice called out with a slur from just below him, breaking him from his thoughts. Draco looked down to see three drunken girls, waiting below. "Could we get one of those? My friend here left hers at home, and we're desperate." She continued. Desperate for attention, maybe. He thought to himself.  He sighed heavily, leaving the cigarette hanging from his lips, and reached into his pocket, retrieving the pack.

The tallest girl, with long brown hair, climbed up the beige brick wall, and stood with her hand reaching out in anticipation. He bent down, sticking his arm through the rail and she quickly grabbed one, beginning to wobble a bit. Suddenly, her left foot slipped from its position, just as she reached it, and as she began to fall, the pack went with her. Draco watched in annoyance and trying not to grow angry with her. But now his pack of smokes were laying dirty on the ground next to some drunken slag, who already had her friends helping her up.