We Sorta Kinda Just Happened (A Drarry Story)

Chapter 26

DID YOU EVER WANT A QUICK, PAINLESS SOLUTION TO ALL YOUR PROBLEMS? The line of text leapt out at Draco, leering at him from its place in The Daily Prophet. His eyes continued past it, looking for something in particular. Column and column, row after row, he gripped the day-old newspaper tightly, hoping that what he had seen yesterday had not been a fluke. Finally, it appeared. A tiny box, overshadowed by a large picture of wizards throwing a raucous party, in which appeared a small advertisement. A going out of business sale of a small store, with instructions to find Chadwick Wappings in the United Dragons Reserve offices, Suite 975, if they need help finding the sale. It had been the only mention of the offices Draco could find in a newspaper from the past decade. Relief at the fact the offices still existed, in the same spot nonetheless, flooded Draco. Carefully folding it up, he tossed it unceremoniously into the pile of things he was planning to pack. It was starting to get scarily big, since he had put it off yesterday morning, and afternoon, and night. But he has promised himself he would do it today, because he was going to leave today and if he didn't pack he was going to leave empty-handed.

His reflection in the mirror was acceptable, he supposed, as he adjusted the emerald tie. It felt kind of silly, noticing how the shade of emerald has been just a little off of Harry's eye color, but he noticed it anyway. He heard a sigh behind him and saw his mother casting spells to organize his things into his bags neater than he ever could.

"So eager to get rid of me?" He said, but his tone was light and airy. Draco leaned over to give her a kiss on the check.

"Of course," she said, "you will run the family name to the ground if you stay much longer." But she stood still to allow the affection and patted his hair lightly.

"I'll write." He promised as he gently took his suitcases from her hands.

If those were tears in his mother's eyes she didn't acknowledge them, yet she did not deny them as she embraced him. Tilting his chin down to meet her eyes still felt odd as he attempted to read the look in her face. A small and proud smile on her face, a touch of worry in her eyes.

"If they give you any trouble, you write and I'll give them hell," she declared, the stiff angle of her shoulder saying be careful and the soft touch at his elbow a hesitant I love you.

"They're right to fear you." A light grasp of her hand. Of course. A quick squeeze. I love you, too.

Shaflork and Winnie came out to say their goodbyes as mother and son went into the kitchen.

"Shaflork wishes Master Draco a good trip." He gave a deep bow.

"Winnie, too!" Her courtesy was clumsy with enthusiasm.

Draco couldn't help it- he chuckled a little. The day he had planned had him in an odd mood.

"I'll be around, I'm sure. Take care of my mother, you hear?"

He didn't let himself look back- only forward. That's the direction his life is heading, anyway. A handful of Floo Powder into the fire and-

"Diagon Alley!"

***

The thing with Diagon Alley is that, like much of the Wizarding World, everything appears to be organized, then it is soon revealed any attempt at order was more of a carefully selected mess of aesthetics rather than something more user friendly. Store numbers jump all over the place. 78 is next to 4 and 620 is right across the knobbly walkway. Not to mention the odd fascination with fractions.

Draco is no tourist and has been navigating these streets (evading harried nannies and busy parents) for a good number of years. Finding a single suite should be easy.