𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 | 𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 1

Chapter 4

Chapter Four—Trials and Tribulations

Draco walked a long way looking for “Help Wanted” signs and talked to a few proprietors. They’d have to call him back, they said. He had a Muggle mobile, but there weren’t too many minutes left and the battery was low. It just gets better and better.

It took the better part of the day and no one looked particularly interested in hiring him on the spot. What did it matter? Maybe he’d be careless, step off the kerb, and be ploughed down by a lorry.  That would end my troubles.

By late afternoon he was beginning to get hungry but knew he only had a few pounds in his pocket. He rummaged and pulled out three pound notes and one tener. Where did that come from? Potter! He must have slipped it in when Draco was in the loo. Damn him! He certainly didn’t need his stupid pity. He stared at it and finally folded it and stuffed it back in his trouser pocket. It had been good to see magic again, though. First Harry’s little stunt with the newspaper and then the Weasleys flooing in, even though their visit was distinctly uncomfortable.

Weasleys. Yes, a happily ever after for just about everyone. He noticed Harry was still alone. Either he was too picky for his own good or he was just playing the field. He was famous before, but the field had probably widened somewhat A.V.

And of course, Draco. Alone. He’d lost track of Pansy and even if he hadn't there would be no place for him with her. He was tired of her and she surely wouldn’t want anything to do with him. He’d lost track of everyone else and it was just as well. Certainly he was lonely, but there didn’t seem much time to dwell on it.

He bought some fish and chips from a vendor and leaned over Lambeth Bridge, throwing the rest down to the birds swooping over the Thames. How he used to hate Muggles and Muggle London. Funny how it just didn’t matter to him much anymore. He tried not to think about his future, his immediate needs always being paramount, but wouldn’t you know that stupid Potter had made him think again. The law. Funny how he wanted to study the law, he who had lived outside it for those last three years, one of which he should have been safely ensconced in his last year at Hogwarts. Foolishly he had thought an education a futile effort with Voldemort coming to power. He never believed Harry Potter was capable of taking down the Dark Lord. Did anyone ever believe it? Perhaps Voldemort had, though not as seriously as he should have done. 

Draco walked all day and as the summer sun finally leaned toward the horizon, he realized he still had no where to go for the night. There was always a place under the bridges, he supposed, though they weren’t the safest of haunts. The parks? Not much better. He found himself in front of the Leaky Cauldron and looked up at the sign wistfully. He could sure go for a butterbeer. Or better yet, a firewhiskey. Dare he risk it? Hogwarts was going to reopen this year and there might be families staying there ready to shop in Diagon Alley the following morning. But surely no one would know him anymore.

He put up the collar of his shirt, dug his hands into his pockets, and trudged in.

The place was a bit dim from the sooty fireplace, and a perpetual layer of smoke hung in the air. There weren’t many in the place so he slid into a dark booth and hunched down. He had only a few galleons and sickles left, enough to buy a bottle of firewhiskey and get completely pissed. A barmaid he didn’t recognize came over and he held his head down as he ordered it. She didn’t know him either—thank goodness—and he settled in to wait for his bottle. When it came he wasted no time and quickly swallowed a glass full. It burned on the way down and he grimaced at the taste, but soon it warmed his belly and dulled his senses. He poured more.