Beauty and the Beast [Draco Malfoy]

Chapter Thirty-Six

Lizzie's POV:

The summer holiday turned into mother-daughter bonding. With everything that had happened to me this year, we were both feeling more sentimental, knowing that we could lose each other any moment. She was this way because of the poisoning, me because of Voldemort's return. I hadn't told her anything about what had happened after Christmas holiday, being too afraid to, and not wanting to worry her any more than she already was.

We spent our time exploring London, trying to find and go to every little coffee shop the city had to offer. A few times we had gotten lost on the Underground, taking the wrong train and ended up finding new clothing shops or something else interesting.

One particular day, we were took a train to get to the London Eye. I hadn't ridden it since I was a small child and memories of seeing the entire city (or what felt like it) filled my mind. When we got there, mum let me sip a bit of her champagne when we reached the very top. I felt totally at peace up there. We sat in silence as birds flew by free from any worry. I pictured myself growing a pair of beautiful black wings, leaping off and flying away with them.

Despite all of the fun I had with my mum, I was still feeling quite put down. I hadn't had one letter from anyone. I had sent out a few myself, to Hermione, Harry, and Draco, but hadn't had one response. Not even from Draco.

"Mum," I had asked my mum one day about halfway through the month of June. We were sitting in one of our new coffee shops with walls that were mostly glass, allowing loads of light into the room. The small areas of wall that showed were a gentle blue color, similar to that of the sky. "Do you remember dad?" My question obviously caught her off guard as she began to cough on her last sip of coffee.

"Sorry?" she questioned once she settled back down.

"Dad. Do you remember him?" I repeated. We have never spoke of my father. Mum never shared, so I never asked. It was a don't-ask-don't-tell topic that everyone avoided, but I wanted to ask now that I met the man.

"Of course I remember him. How could I forget?" she looked at the table as if reminiscing about something.

"What was he like?" I questioned, looking down into my drink.

"Well, where do I start?" she laughed lightly. "He was short. That was one big thing. He used to joke about it all the time. And he was kind to me, he was always kind to me."

"Why did he leave?" I pictured the man who had approached me at the ball and tried to imagine him with my mother. The two of them just didn't seem compatible.

"He uh- he wasn't ready for the responsibility for having kids," mum's eyes dropped to her hands that were carefully cradling her coffee.

"But Grayson was almost seven years old, why did he leave when I was born?"

"I don't know," she muttered, seeming almost ashamed. We fell into a silence that was broken only by the chatter of the few other customers.

"I met him," I whispered.

"What?" her eyes snapped up to meet mine.

"I met him," I repeated. "Draco's mum had a Christmas ball and he was there. He's a wizard, mum. That's why Grayson and I have powers." Mum only stared at me. "He's different. He's nothing like the man you just described."

"W-what's he like now?" she stuttered curiously with caution lacing the edges of her words. I realized for the first time in a long time that she was scared. Of what exactly, I wasn't sure.

"Cruel. Mum, he was so mean to me," I said, feeling tears prick at my eyes, seeing the same in my mother's eyes. I shouldn't have brought it up. "I'm sorry, mum. I shouldn't have asked you."

"No, don't apologize. I knew you were bound to ask about him eventually, you just caught me off guard." She smiled slightly and placed her hand on top of mine, rubbing her thumb gently across the back of my hand. I studied her fingers on top of mine. They reminded me of Draco's. Slender, pale, and delicate, yet strong.

The fact that Draco hadn't replied to my letters hurt. I wondered if he had a change of heart about me, causing him to not want anything to do with me.

I knew that that wasn't the case somewhere deep inside of me, however. I knew that Draco did care about me and was probably just caught up with some family affair or something of the sort. My mind couldn't help but wander in his absence, though.

"Why don't we head home? This place is getting a bit crowded," my mum suggested in the silence that followed our short conversation concerning my father. I nodded my head and pushed my chair back behind me.

"That sound's nice," I answered her. "But before we go home, could we head to Diagon Alley? I'm running low on parchment." I had written so many letters (mostly to Draco), that I had already finished up my supply, and couldn't risk running out should Draco suddenly decide to write back.

"Of course," mum quipped, standing up after me. Together, we walked out of the coffee shop we had been sitting in.

Side by side, we worked our way through London to the magical place of Diagon Alley. It had been my first experience of the wizarding world when mum, Grayson, and I went shopping for Gray's school supplies. Memories of grumbling Gringotts goblins, hooting owls, dull chatter of other wizards, and the click of shoes against the stone brought a peaceful and excited feeling into my body.

"Alright," mum said once we had stepped through the shifting brick wall, "which shop do you want to go to?" I looked around at all of the people shuffling by. Robes of every color flashed before my eyes. Dull green, worn out brown, bright yellow, dark black.

"Scribbulus Writing Implements," I responded over the hustle and bustle of the other shoppers. I nodded my head to the right and began to walk to the shop that sold the type of parchment I preferred. Not too rough or thick, not too soft or thin, but right in the middle.

Scribbulus Writing Implements was a shop I adored. It sold writing supplies such as parchment, quills, and ink, and always smelled of paper. Beside the fact that it was right next to the entrance of Knockturn Alley, it was one of my favorite shops.

The bell on the door jingled softly as I pushed the door open. Only one other person was in the store besides the owner and me and my mum. I recognized her as a third year Slytherin I often saw in the common room. Nodding in greeting to her, I strolled right over to the shelves that displayed the parchment and collected my purchase. My nostrils were filled with the smell of old books and the faint scent of ink nearby. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, enjoying the smell for a moment while my mum inspected some nearby quills.

"Why don't you guys just use pens?" she whispered to me with a particularly long and fluffy quill in her hand. "It would be so much easier."

"I've been wondering the same thing for ages," I responded. Probably for the same reason we all wore robes and used owls to communicate, I thought to myself. The wizarding world was very old fashioned.

I took the stack of parchment to the front counter and made my exchange with small talk between the clerk and me, a middle aged woman with a tag pinned to her navy robes stating Marcella. She was a tall and skinny woman who possessed graying black hair that reached down to her shoulders in loose ringlets.

My mum and I exited the shop once the purchase was complete. The warm air outside was contrasted to that of the cool air we left behind us.

"Home now?" mum questioned, looking at a pair of young witches skipping past us.

"Yeah. I could use a nap." My eyes followed the girls into the quidditch shop across the entrance to Knockturn Alley from Scribbulus'. As they disappeared inside and my mum began to walk back to the Leaky Cauldron, my eyes caught a familiar flash of Malfoy blonde. I did a double take, hoping it was Draco, but being slightly disappointed to see Lucius Malfoy, who was gliding down the stone path to Knockturn Alley. His black robes billowed out behind him in the breeze.

I debated whether I should greet him and possibly get some answers about Draco out of him, but before I could decide, he hurried into a shady looking shop called Borgin and Burke's. I wanted to know what he was doing there and wanted to know about Draco, but didn't want to go down the dark alley, so with a glance over my shoulder, I followed my mum out of Diagon Alley.