Dramione: stop calling me Malfoy

5. A trip to the bookstore

Draco and I went to the bookstore the next day. I needed to start research on American muggles and Draco said he needed a notebook. I loved the bookstore. It was huge and yet cramped, nothing like chain stores like Barnes and Noble. The bookstore used to be someone's house, so the bookshelves were packed together in each room, with plenty of nooks and crannies to escape into. It was home to me.

I lost track of Draco after he escaped into the stationary section and wandered over to the supernatural section, out of curiosity. There were hundreds of titles, ranging from Little Green Men Etiquette to Merlin's Magic. I pulled the later off the shelf. After thumbing through the pages for a couple of minutes I could see it was just muggle rubbish. It was full of odd comments like, "It has been confirmed that Merlin had a long term relationship with the famous Galinda the Good Witch." I snickered, remembering last night's movie. This would be a good topic to discuss, what muggles actually know about wizards.

"I would try Why Magic's Real if you're looking for a laugh," said a warm voice. A man in his early twenties with neat black hair and a small smile peered at me from the corner of the room. He was very cute, and was wearing a crisp black suit. I closed my book and brushed a stray curl behind my ear.

"Thanks," I said, blushing profusely. The man sat next to me on the leather couch I had been reading on.

"My name's Will Small," he pronounced, and held out his hand. I shook it politely.

"Hermione Granger," I responded. He was nice, and I got the vibe that he was honest. "Do you like Sci-Fi?" I tapped the book with my finger. I could tell he was muggle from his comfort in the bookstore. He shrugged.

"It keeps me entertained on the train. I commute to Wall Street." He reached down and tapped a sleek brief case that was sitting by his feet. "It's a long way," he said, responding to the look of surprise on my face, "but it's a job that I love."

"I know what you mean," I said. "I do research for the British government." He nodded knowingly. "Do you believe in magic?" I asked, doing my best to sound nonchalant. He considered my question.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I can't rule it out completely. All I know is that I'm not a wizard." He laughed and I joined in nervously, feeling my wand poke me from my back pocket. "Hey, do you want to get some coffee?" I felt a smile spread across my face, but it disappeared as fast as it came. I couldn't leave Draco.

"You know I would love to but I'm here with a friend." He looked crushed. "But why don't I give you my number? Call me later." I didn't have paper, so I pulled over his arm and wrote my parent's number on his wrist. He raised his eyebrows, but looked pleased.

"Hermione?" said a strangled voice by the doorway. Will and I looked up and saw Draco. He was clutching a songbook and looked very upset. I felt guilty, though I didn't know why. I jumped up.

"I'll see you Will!" I pepped. Draco scowled and Will looked confused. Draco turned and stomped out of the room. With a final wave I followed him. He slowed down so I was level with him. He was looking at his feet. "Did you get a notebook?" I asked, trying to start a conversation. He didn't answer. Suddenly he stopped walking. I turned around. His eyes were blazing, red mixed with the gray.

"You can't go out with him," he fumed, his voice low and uneven. His word hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt myself stumble backwards.

"Why not?" I stuttered. What had I just said? Why did I care about his opinion? Why did I feel like I was melting?

"Because he's a muggle!" Draco said. I felt fire crawl up my spine. The melting stopped. I had been wrong, he hadn't changed.

"You stuck up git. You know there's nothing wrong with that! What is this really about?" He froze.

"I don't know. I just feel so..." He paused, and then collapsed. Right there in the Manchester Bookstore, he sat down and groaned. "Stuck." He picked some rubber off the sole of his shoe. I didn't know what to say. A little girl behind him came out of a door behind us, squealed, and ducked back inside appalled at the sight of a grown man sitting in the middle of the hallway. "I'm trying to start over and move away from the Death Eater that I was, but I can't become the better me. I'm trying to not be a Malfoy, I'm trying to become Draco, but I'm..." He paused again. "Stuck," he repeated.

"Just by trying to change, you're half way there." I stood in front of him and extended my hand. He took it and I pulled him up. He brushed himself off. "Let's pay for your notebook."