verity || d.m.

07 - burning buildings

21 SEPTEMBER, 2001

—

what rarity that we may find
our way together miles apart

- excerpt from poem #24, "never seen yet understood," in my poetry book aftertaste

—

There's a lot you can tell about a person from what they do on a train ride.

Anastasiya, on one hand, prefers to sit in silence, but she keeps herself busy. She's brought along a bound journal, which she seems to be sketching inside of. Draco tries on multiple occasions to see what she was drawing, but she angles the book up towards her chest at the slightest of movements, to which he smirks and looks back down at the articles and paperwork in his lap. He's glad he brought his reading assignments with him. There's two things Draco has already noticed that haven't changed about her — that she won't talk to anyone if she doesn't have to and that nobody can interrupt her drawing. Even though he was used to it back in fourth year, Draco can't help but notice how tense it feels between the two of them. This could just be standard treatment for everyone in her life, but he would also hate to be just another person to Anastasiya.

Draco offered to apparate from Wiltshire to Cambridge so they could take the train into London together. He hasn't been to Cambridge in many years, but he has to admit the city fits Anya well. It's refined and put together, yet comfortable and homely. Even as she finds solace in her sketching, she does not once sacrifice her poise. Occasionally, the sleeve of her knit sweater falls back down to her wrist, and she pushes it back up with ease, her eyes never leaving the page and her charcoal continuing its meticulous marking.

"I'm assuming you're still friends with everyone who was in your house and year at Hogwarts, then?" Draco's eyes shoot up from the crinkled parchment he's holding, surprised that Anastasiya was the one to break their silence this time.

She must have sensed that, because she quickly adds, "It's all just from my observation that most everyone you spent time with in fourth year was with us at the dinner party last week."

He sets the papers down next to him and props one leg across with his ankle resting on his other knee. Leaning forward Draco responds, "You always were the most observant person in the room." Clasping his hands together and settling his elbows down on his thighs, he continues, "Yes, most of us have kept in touch to some degree."

"You seem hesitant to say that."

"Well, I'm not good at continuing contact with those I'm not physically around, which I'm sure you noticed all those years ago. Honestly, that first party we went to at the start of the month was the first time I had spoken to Blaise in over a year. He's been busy with his family, now that he has a child, and I don't see why I should bother him."

She softly closes the cover of her sketchbook, but keeps her thumb on the page she was working on.

"I see Theo very regularly because of PRIME. Tracey's actually on the board of it, but I've always assumed she'd be too busy to meet up for tea or something of the sort. Meanwhile, Daphne and Millicent have been traveling for about eight months now. I think they're in Thailand or maybe New Zealand at this point."

She's awfully quick with her math. "What about Goyle?"

He lets out a long sigh and leans back. "We've seen each other here and there at parties." His eyes move up to the ceiling of the train. "But I haven't really spoken much beyond small talk with him." Twiddling his thumbs, Draco quietly adds, "Not since Crabbe's death."

She catches his eyes, perhaps for the first time since they greeted each other this morning. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Draco." As if gauging his openness to the subject, her dark eyes probe a little harder, further into his light ones. "Was it—"