Draco Malfoy's Two Months in Muggle Land

Chapter 6: Week Five: Tunnel Sous La Manche

Week Five: Tunnel Sous La Manche

When Draco returned home to Heather's house after the concert, he couldn't keep the smile off his face. The witch noticed it as soon as the boy walked through the door, and sent him a smile of her own.

" I take it you enjoyed yourself then," she said.

" It was brilliant! At first I thought it would be quite boring, as wizard music tends to be a little more conservative. But then the band started to play and the music was so loud! I thought my eardrums were going to burst! Everyone was dancing and there was a sea of cars when we first got there. Thousands of them!"

" Thousands? Are you sure there was that many?" Heather asked skeptically.

" I'm not sure, but it seemed that way. You never told me they came in so many shapes and sizes."

Heather smiled at the young wizard's excitement, trying not to laugh at him. It was quite strange to see a usually unflappable Malfoy in such a state.

" Well, it never occurred to me to tell you. I just take it for granted, as Muggles do. I sometimes forget you're actually a wizard."

Heather realised immediately that that was the wrong thing to say. Draco's face darkened, and a scowl marred his aristocratic features. His loss of magic was a sore subject, and he preferred for people not to point out his handicap if at all possible. He may have survived a month without magic, but that didn't mean he had resigned himself to a lifetime without it, as Heather had. As far as he was concerned, he would brave the Muggle world as long as he had to, but no longer. His friendship with Evelyn had helped him accept his status for the moment, but as soon as his magic returned to him, he would go straight back to Hogwarts and hex the life out of Potter. It was nothing more than he deserved, after all. A Malfoy without magic was like an insult to the whole of pureblood society, and Draco knew he would one day make his rival pay for what he had done to him. With his scowl firmly in place, he glared at his enemy's aunt.

" I am a Malfoy, Heather, a pureblood wizard. I can trace the purity of my blood back over seven hundred years. Never again insult me in such a way, or I promise you will live to regret it. I may have been forced to adapt to the Muggle world for the time being, as a result of a malicious trick by your wretched nephew, but I will not suffer the indignity forever. Think carefully before classing me as a Muggle, for if you do it again you will face me in a wizard's duel. And I'm not afraid of using Dark Magic."

His piece said, Draco stormed upstairs, the slamming of his door a sign of finality.

Over the next few days, Heather stayed out of her young guest's way, not wanting to upset him further. The Malfoy heir moped around the house, speaking only when necessary and spending as much time as he could out of the house, either at the library or with Evelyn. By Wednesday, Heather was starting to get frustrated, and decided it was time for her to try and make it up to him.

When Draco came home on Wednesday evening, he found Heather sitting in the living room, a pensive look on her face. Slightly concerned for his temporary guardian, despite the fact he wasn't talking to her; Draco went into the room and sat down opposite her. It took a few moments, but eventually Heather raised her eyes to meet the boy's, and she gave him a slight smile. All she got in return was a scowl, which made her face fall.

" Draco," she said, " I wanted to apologise for what I said the other day. I didn't mean to call you a Muggle, but it just sort of came out that way. I didn't mean it as an insult, as I have no doubt of your obvious strength as a wizard. Draco, I'm sorry, and I know we can't go on living like this. You have another three and a half weeks here; I don't want us to fight. Will you forgive me?"