Our World As It Is

Chapter 1: A Prior Engagement

Chapter 1: A Prior Engagement

He strolls with a smooth elegance that demands authority. His pace seems a bit too fast for the norm, but no one will dare question the Draco Malfoy. Draco is not a man who rushes, or would be remotely hurried by anyone, any old fool can tell you that.

Yet still, as his feet lonely click-clack on the white marble flooring of their greatest monument known to man-the Ministry of Magic-he thinks of what he was indeed, late, for. Damn.

Let it be known now itself that no one is expecting Mr. Malfoy. Nor will anyone notice his lack of appearance at this appointment. But this is his tether to sanity. The one pleasure that would not make him a hollow man dependent on vice, nor would allow any harm to befall the other party. This is purely for him, and him, himself.

He passes the through the corridor, lined with a green and black stone which appear to be illuminated from the inside, casting an iridescent white glow as he steps out into the Atrium. His face maintains the calm composure and raised eyebrow that spoke of the aristocratic respect that he is so well known for.

"Oi, Malfoy!"

"Yes, McNair?" sneers Draco, his lips curling into distaste. He turns to see the heavyset stature and protruding square jaw he is familiar with. The lace 5 o'clock shadow and the thinning brown hair that glints in the light from the gel slicking it back, only adds to his recognition. This does not faze the older gentlemen who is used to the other man's general foulness and superiority towards others.

"We're heading to Snake's Head tonight, for some drinks, and all the rest that lurks there," says the older man with a wink and a smirk. It does not take a genius to realize he is referring to the beings with two legs and mammary glands, who had fallen victim to the circumstances about them. "Did you know? Those Mudblood bitches actually fight back sometimes! When will they ever understand their place in the world?" He scoffs and shakes his head, looking at the floor in belittling disapproval.

"As if I would sully myself with the likes of them. The only use they have in this world is to be house elves or less. All else is far too high a grace for them," replies Draco, haughtily. The words burn in his throat and his mind berates him with pictures too ghastly to describe, haunting his thoughts. But, this cannot be shown.

He feigns disinterest, looking at the time, then back at the man, subtle yet pointedly. Draco does not wait for the man to leave. After saying his piece, he turns away, confidently striding towards a darker corridor branching off from the Atrium.

The man takes the hint, "Right, right Malfoy. We know you've got some in your house too," he half-yells towards the retreating figure. His immediate scowl and flush speak as loudly as if his thoughts are on a billboard-how dare he turn away from me. Bloody prat thinks he's better? McNair, attempting to save face, turns and leisurely walks towards the floo, meeting up with Yaxley and Nott.

Draco approaches the lesser-known corridor, surreptitiously looking over his shoulder. Quietly, he exits the building, walking along the cobblestone streets that await him. Though the sun shines brightly-a rare occurrence around those parts-and the chirping birds speak of happy times, the scene is marred by the mottled grey-green skin of the beggars around him. Those Muggleborns hurriedly hide, seeing his well known gait turning the corner. Some of them are even expecting him, already well away from the eye's reach. They know he would come today, as is his monthly routine.

Stories of the Ruthless Draco Malfoy are enough to give any child nightmares, forever scarring the mind and psyche of the listening audience. Him, the head of the Department of Mudblood Sanitation. Him, the Exterminator. Him, the Monster.

He walks through the street, abruptly disappearing, throwing up a small tornado of leaves in the after effects of his Apparition.

***

The familiar tug at the naval, the whirlwind of light and the sudden landing. He has rendered it to an art, stepping in from his Apparition with no more noise than a cat stalking the always tantalizing mouse.

But as he turns a corner, and sees that thick cloak outlining the female figure there, he does not pounce or attack. He has a feeling-no, he is sure of whom it is, but he chooses to remain ignorant and oblivious. In the world he is in, that is the only way to survive. However, he does not have to paint on his usual confidence, nor use a mask to trade his personality for his identity. Here, he can peacefully observe his little mystery.

Every month, once a month, on the last Friday from 7:00PM-8:00PM, she would be here, on Platform 9¾. Never once does he make his presence known.

For that one hour, he would lean against the brick wall at the back, staring at the girl whose features he sees only seldom, when she turns her face to the moon and her profile was visible. It remains unreadable, conveying no specific story, but always has the emotions written onto the curve of her full lips.

He can stand there and wonder, what is she thinking about? What has this harsh existence doled out to her? How does she get by?

He does not need to forget with women or drink. Not with the same incorrigible vices that haunt the shadows of every other man he must associate with. Unlike them, he does not need to feel guilty, and does not need to feel piteous against his own pathetic nature after committing the deed.

He can just escape with her, never talking, always resting in the companionable silence. She will never know, she will remain his untold secret-lying with him until the day he dies.

All is well, the silence broken only by the cheering of the tree branches as they clap and a lone wolf that may bale at the moon.

"I know you're here."

Hermione Granger turns toward her platinum blond visitor for the first time.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any related characters, places and intellectual property. All rights are to JK Rowling.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave a review :) I love getting feedback.

-Phoenixriser