She || Drastoria

5 - Oakey's Warehouse

Dearest Ly,

He's making me break all my rules. And I hate that. Not because I'm doing it for a man, but because I'm doing it for him...

*****

Draco stared up at the cold, deserted looking building, wondering if he were making a big mistake.

He could leave now, pour himself a large whisky and listen to classical music on high whilst he lazed around his bedroom back in the Manor, perhaps even indulge in a wank or two.

Or he could even give Blaise a call and find out what club he was sharking, go back to filling in his scorecard which was looking oddly blank these days.

But the idea of doing either of those things did not fill Draco Malfoy with any kind of desire anymore, the pull towards Astoria becoming stronger instead.

And it wasn't, he had to admit to himself, just the idea of bedding her. Yes, it was a big part of that - a huge part, if he were to be truly honest. But the things she had said the other night had got him thinking about life, and about how he wasn't overly satisfied with the way things had turned out.

He had wanted Potter to win the war, of course he had. In fact, on that day five years previously, when Voldemort had been defeated, he had been so relieved that he had fallen asleep that night peacefully for the first time in a long time, finally free from all those demons he had been carrying around with him.

Or so he thought.

Because even though the threat over his family had lifted, Astoria was right - nothing had changed. His parents still felt strongly about the value of blood purity, turning their noses up at everything even remotely Muggle related. So much so, that they had turned down McGonagall's offer of allowing Draco to repeat his seventh year at Hogwarts, claiming that without the grounding influence of Snape, the school was now completely awash with Mudblood lovers.

Not that Draco had been bothered. It wasn't as though he would ever have to work for a living, after all, what with being a literal billionaire. So, instead of doing anything worthwhile with his life, he spent night after night drinking top shelf whisky and shagging pretty much anything that moved.

He had been amazed at first at how many girls were keen to hop on his cock, his Dark Mark seeming to turn them on rather than deter them. He revelled in it to begin with, like a man being introduced to fame for the first time.

But, like fame, it quickly became tiresome, the chase no longer exciting him. And more than once he had found himself accidentally trying to hit on the same woman he'd previously fucked and dumped, earning him a few sharp slaps across the face.

So, here he was, standing outside Oakey's Warehouse, anticipation swirling in the pit of his stomach at the idea that maybe this was the start of something changing.

And yes, maybe he was ultimately doing it because of Astoria, but there was another part of him too, that was doing it for himself.

Whatever 'it' was.

*****

"I'M NOT FUCKING DOING IT!"

Draco looked around the room, his eyes bulging incredulously as the 'leader' (a skinny latte loving spotty kid called Kevin) slid a balaclava across the table towards him.

There was a collective sound of uncomfortable coughs and throat clearing as everyone looked away.

He wished he'd just gone back to the fucking Manor now rather than waste his time with these moronic idiots (Astoria aside, of course).