BANALITY : Draco Malfoy

07

Draco asks me a bit more about my life, and I divulge with a degree of honesty that is uncomfortable. I'm from Brighton, and I moved to Inverness just over a year ago. I met Amanda while vaccinating fish up north, and she told me her flatmate had decided not to sign the lease, so I joined on. Ali and Niamh were put in the flat by the landlord since they had no flatmates. Ali, being from New York, didn't know anyone. Niamh had nobody because she's generally unlikable.

He doesn't care about them as much as he does about me.

At least I have the sense to hold my tongue when he asks what brought me to Inverness. Well, I tell most of the truth. I didn't choose Inverness specifically. I left Brighton and got as far away as I could without crossing a body of water. Amanda chose me, and she chose Inverness. I might have said no if she hadn't been planning to move to a town with a waterfront. A reminder of home without being too familiar.

He tells me he did go to some fancy public boarding school in Scotland. Daddy did indeed give him everything he wanted as a kid. The school is where he met Blaise. He lied about being a tourist though. He did initially come here on holiday, though he is hoping to stay a bit longer.

"Only child?" I ask him.

He nods, "you?"

"Two older brothers," I tell him. "Much older. I just kind of slipped out ten years late."

He snorts.

"What?"

"Explains why you're always acting like you have something to prove," he has just a twinge of a smirk on his face.

"Well, now I understand your entitlement," I roll my eyes, smiling. "It's typical of people who didn't have to share as children."

The smirk becomes more of a smile now, but he swallows, taking the smile and digesting it. His face returns to its normal expression which is practically a scowl. He lifts a hand up to his head and pats his hair in place. It is more neat than normal, despite the misty wet air of the early hours of the morning. Perhaps Vanish is more worth dressing up for than a stupid uni party.

Or drinks with me at Mad Goodbye.

The walk takes close to forty-five minutes. We probably could have called a taxi to take us. Business is fine enough at this hour because even though most pubs closed over an hour ago, Vanish won't close for quite some more time. The silence only lasts thirty seconds before we pull up to the castle that he is staying in.

It is exactly what tourists expect when they hear of European castles, though not Scottish ones. Its brown bricks are well-washed and certainly not very old. He is walking me in the front door before I have a second to take it all in. He walks me past the concierge, a man with a silly hat and fancy suit, much unlike the uniform Graham wears. He ushers me in the lift, and as the doors close, I stare out at the lobby, with its lush rugs on wooden floors, and leather sofas and chairs.

"Why were you staying in my inn if you could afford a room like this?" I ask, my voice quieter than I had intended.

"I've only stayed here yesterday and tonight," he shoves his hands in his pockets.

My eyes flicker over to his face. I can smell his cologne now that we are in a tight space. Mahogany and lavender are the strongest notes, even stronger than the bit of sweat that clings to his skin from wearing a button-up in the club. His clothes aren't wrinkled. In fact, his trousers have a pleat in them, so he has ironed them. His face is clean-shaven.