The Idea of Draco

2 - The Boy in the Trailer

The white-blond haired boy who I discover sitting on the sofa upon my return from the toilet, smirks.

"Do you often make a habit of breaking into people's trailers to use their toilet?" he drawls, his grey eyes containing a rather amused twinkle.

"Shit, no sorry. I was desperate." I explain, feeling rather mortified. "Besides, I didn't break in, the door was unlocked."

I find it difficult to look directly at him. He is so stunningly beautiful, I am afraid I will blush or something equally embarrassing.

It doesn't help that he is wearing a shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his very toned arms and, also what looks to be a tattoo on his left forearm. Although it is so faded it's difficult to tell.

Suddenly, a large, bald man wearing a security jacket rushes, in breathless.

"I'm so sorry, Sir. She just walked in before I could stop her. Please, Miss, you must come with me."

"There was no one anywhere near the trailer!" I argue. "You should have signs!"

"I was in the line for a cup of tea." The security man scowls. "I did shout out, but you just went straight in."

"A cup of tea?" I ask, my interest piqued. "Where? I'm gasping."

"I can make you a cup of tea, if you like?" The trailer boy offers in a beautifully smooth voice.

"Sir, I don't think that's a good idea." The security man says, alarmed. "She could be dangerous."

I laugh. "Dangerous? What are you talking about? I just wanted a piss and a cup of tea, and I went into the wrong trailer."

"It's fine, Gilbert," the boy says. "You can go. I will sort this lady out with a cup of tea."

"You don't have time." Gilbert says, shaking his head. "You need to get ready, Malfoy. And this could be some sort of crazed fan for all you know."

Malfoy? Fan? Surely I can't have heard correctly.

"The Meet and Greet is not for another half hour." The boy replies, his tone slightly sterner now. "I have plenty of time. Now please, go."

"Are you in the team?" I ask, my mouth hanging open.

The boy chuckles and Gilbert tuts. "Your funeral," he mutters before exiting the trailer slamming the door shut behind him.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, Seeker for the Wiltshire Wanderers."

My heart starts racing quite uncontrollably. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I'm not a fan of Quidditch."

He frowns. "Forgive me, but why are you here at a Wanderer's game if you are not a fan?"

"I'm here for my daughter. Her father was supposed to bring her, but he pulled out at the last second to go on some business trip with his fiancée."

I just cannot seem to keep the bitterness from my voice as I say this last part. I notice Draco's gaze drop to my left hand where my ring used to be.

"Sorry to hear that," he murmurs, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "Now, about that cup of tea - I've got a confession to make: I don't actually have a kettle."

It's my turn to frown. "Then why did you offer?"

He shrugs, a crooked smile on his lips. "Because I wanted you to stay. I can offer you a bottle of beer. Or wine, if you prefer? I'd gladly join you, but I can't drink alcohol pre game, of course."

Oh my god, is he flirting with me? Surely, not. I've got to be a good ten years older than him. And I'm a mother. To a teenager.