PRECEDENT : Draco Malfoy II

19

Working gives me something to do for the rest of the summer. My brothers and parents are busy with their jobs during the day, and my brothers haven't lived at home for a few years now anyway. I spend my free time on the beach. I budget and think about returning to Hogwarts. This year we will start O.W.L.s. I suppose I will have to make myself interested in them. For now, I plan on spending my days working and my evenings by the water.

The week before we are scheduled to return to Hogwarts, I'm still working at the gift shop at the marina. Tonight is the first and only night where I'm the closer. Once I've finished all the duties for the evening, I'm supposed to call my boss, who's going to drive back and lock up. Some family emergency pulled him away. Since it's been raining for several hours, no one has come in to buy souvenirs, and so closing isn't so bad. We've got ten minutes until the doors officially lock for the night, and so long as no other customers come, I'm good to go.

Unfortunately, the door rings just as I'm finishing stocking the shelf behind the register. My shoulders tighten. I turn around to look.

Draco Malfoy is behind me. He pulls off the hood of his cloak. He's dry, despite the rain that patters against the door. His broom is in one hand, the wood slick with water, dripping onto the tiled floor beneath him. There must be a water-repelling charm on the cloak itself.

"You all right, sir?" I keep my voice high. "It's a bit wet out there. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm afraid we close in ten minutes."

"What?" Malfoy's eyes dart around the store.

There's no one else here, not that I didn't want to fool him into think that there were muggles around. Then, he might leave. I've never seen him outside of school. We're in muggle Brighton, and he's holding a broom and got on a cloak.

I'm not even sure how he found me.

Malfoy leans his broom against the wall. The soft thud of the wood against the plaster feels like it echoes. Even from here I can smell the rain that's come in, the earthy smell of it. Malfoy looks back at me, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We close in ten," I explain, crossing my arms to match him. "You'll have to find shelter somewhere else. Afraid your boat won't do that much good either in a storm like this."

Malfoy rolls his eyes. He pulls out his wand, tapping along the wooden edge with his fingers, almost rhythmically, "does it look like I'm here to buy a souvenir?"

"Paying customers only," I grit my teeth in a forced smile.

He glares at me. I don't respond. One of us will break first. People like him don't have to build up the same kind of determination as people like me.

"I don't even have muggle money," he points out.

"I can do conversion easily," I respond.

"Are you being serious?" he asks again.

I don't respond. My arms feel hot against me. The brief second the door opened, a burst of the humid rainy air came in. Everything feels stickier in here.

Malfoy shakes his head, before unbuttoning his cloak. He shrugs it to the side, reaching underneath. Inside, he digs into the pocket of his trousers. Malfoy drags out a fistful of coins and drops them on the counter. I count out half a dozen knuts and just as many galleons. He's thrown out thirty pounds, enough to buy quite a few of our trinkets, even though they are overpriced.

"Grab something," I tell him.

"I don't want anything," Malfoy rolls his eyes.

I shake my head. Exiting out from the counter, I peruse the shelves. Some of our items are surplus in stock, and my boss wants to get rid of them. He'll be pleased if I help him. So, I grab a bell on a low shelf. Then, I offer it to Malfoy.