Dramione One Shots

28. The Missing Day

This is an art/fic collab between myself and dara_art (you can find her work by looking up her handle online, and she's illustrated various one shots in this collection). It was inspird by the leap day (Feb 29). I hope you enjoy!

xx

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Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light

To chase a feather in the wind

Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight

There moves a thread that has no end

-All My Love, Led Zeppelin

February 29, 2004

Shopping with Theo ought to come with its own warning label: Beware, Theodore Nott cannot be held personally liable for any curses, bludgeons, grievances, or misadventures that befall you on the following excursion.

Within five minutes of entering the dusty shop, Draco heard an innocent clink of glass, followed by a sudden, ground quaking crash. Glass shattered, wood splintered, objects tumbled and rumbled, and Draco whipped around to find Theo standing in an avalanche of broken crockery, holding a single amaranth quill in his hand with a sheepish look on his face. "Oops?"

The thick brocade curtains at the back of the shop whipped open and an old woman came hobbling out faster than she looked, holding a crooked cane. Her rheumy eyes honed in on Theo in a wicked, conspiring way, like she might turn him into a rat and trap him in a cage.

Sensing the same thing, Theo hastily pulled out his chequebook and insisted on paying for the damages. Meanwhile, Draco made another round of the tiny shop, occupying himself with scanning all the rubbish packed wall to wall, discovering something new each time. He paused in front of a clear orb that looked like a Remembrall and, despite Theo's suspicious accident, plucked it from the shelf, unable to resist its strange draw. The clear orb turned cloudy pink in his fingers.

"Yer soulmate's nearby."

Draco jumped at the crackly Scottish voice in his ear. The old woman stood by his shoulder, looking at the orb. Her conspiring grin displayed a crooked set of blackened teeth, with gaps in between. He gave her an incredulous look, hoping she didn't mean herself.

She cackled. "Calm yerself, lad. We're not interested in the likes o you." She took the orb from him and the pink cloud turned grey. "Give us yer hand."

He kept his hands to himself, reluctant to let the old hag touch him. There was a stench coming off her, like rot.

"Coward." She snatched his wrist and forced his palm around. Her skin was dry and rough. Her black teeth on display, reading the lines on his palms. "It's a leap year, ye know."

He nodded, wondering if she would turn him into a toad if he tore his hand away and darted out of the shop.

"Special things happen on the missing day o the month. Yer seeing someone tonight."

He had a date. Some witch his mother wanted him to meet. They were going to a restaurant in Diagon Alley later this evening. But he didn't admit it.

"She's the one, I see it." The woman traced her thumb over a line on Draco's palm. "Yer soulmate." She pronounced her T's harshly, spittle flying through the gaps between her teeth.

"Is that even a real thing?" he asked cynically. It sounded like a crock of shite to him.

The hag placed the orb on his palm and it went pink once more. She grinned as if that answered his question.