The Fine Line Between Love and Hate | Dramione AU by Short-circuit-Soulmate

Chapter 24

...in which memories and dreams are misinterpreted.

Cloaked in expensive silk, an aristocratic woman made her way toward a man on a busy street in Diagon Alley. She didn't walk for him, however, but basked in the envious stares that came as her presence passed those who were not as lucky to be married to one of the most powerful men in the wizarding world; Draco Malfoy.

Black shoulder length hair set in stiff, straight strands swayed side to side as she came to perch herself at his side. She didn't spare him a look as she held out her arm regally, waiting for him to take it. He did so bitterly, silently hoping that she would trip on the expensive cloak she had whined for non-stop the previous day until he'd forked out the 1500 galleons for it. This was not love; nothing close to it. This was a marriage for show.

"We've got lunch reservations, Draco," her unbearable voice told him, as they walked along, "with the Minister and his wife. I told you yesterday, but you were still late, weren't you?" She huffed dramatically.

He stared ahead, his face blank of expression. He'd long ago learnt to block out the sound of her voice, which was probably the reason he had forgotten about the meeting until a frantic owl had arrived, demanding he apparate there immediately. He had done so, merely because it would not help to get on the Ministers bad side, however, he had no interest in it, really. He had been distracted lately.

"Pansy, dear," he began in a smooth drawl; one he reserved for those he had no interest for, "I'll be there for lunch, if only for the ministers sake, however, I've got an important errand to run first. Go on ahead, order some expensive wine," he was sure she would anyway, "and I'll be there soon."

He pushed her forward, rather impatiently, hoping she would agree. She gave him a stern look, as though she were about to argue, but instead merely huffed again (she did that a lot lately) and walked on. She was soon forgotten to him as she disappeared into the crowd, and he turned swiftly, heading toward his intended destination.

That destination in question was a small cobbled street in Diagon Alley, with ancient shops lining either side, it was never overly occupied with people, as you only ever went down there when looking for something specific. Draco was.

It was a small bookshop at the end of the street, cast in shadows. If you didn't look closely, you might not even realise it was there. The windows were dusty and covered in cobwebs, but were displayed with antique volumes that could not be found anywhere else. It was one of the reasons Draco came here frequently. He had never been much for reading, but a rare book was exactly what you needed to distract yourself from a miserable life with a woman you couldn't stand. He supposed there were other motivations, also.

He entered the shop with a heavy stomach, his heart beating fast and out of rhythm. On the outside, however, he was as cool and as calm as ever. The chime signalled the entry of a customer, and an elderly witch with ragged clothes looked up from her book as she sat on a nearby dusty couch to inspect him. Finding nothing of interest, she looked away a second later.

He walked through a tall aisle crowded with books, running his finger along the volumes, collecting a thick clump of dust on it as he went. He wasn't really looking at the books, he'd already read half of them, he was merely hoping to prolong the time he would spend in this place. It was his favourite place.

As he neared the front of the shop, his heart began to speed up, and as he stopped at the front desk, his eyes set on a petite witch with long, unruly curls, who had her head buried in a thick tome. On his arrival, she looked up, and he swore she rolled her eyes.