Welcome to 1999—aka two years prior to Draconian. Chapters will become longer from this point onwards, because we're moving into the main part of the story. I hope you're ready for them—this story gets pretty dark and mature, pretty fast.
Anyway, I don't think any further introduction needs to be made for my next cast. I love me some Tom Felton, but then there's also—
Jeremy Dufour as Draco Malfoy
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
0 7
1 9 9 9
DEATH IS EVERYWHERE. Even in Muggle London, a place she'd sworn to her parents that she'd never visit. The walls have ears and darkness lurks at every corner. But at a time like this, the Muggle side of London is far safer than the Magical side of it. For the first time in her life, she's come to envy Muggles, if only because they do not have to face the tyranny of a Dark Lord who now rules the Magical world with an iron fist.
The first year of war is the hardest. All of her Visions have not prepared her for this: the bloodshed, the destruction, the Dark. Everyone she knows and loves is gone. Most of her friends from Hogwarts have gone into hiding; the rest have sworn allegiance to Voldemort. She hears murmurings of a new generation of Death-Eaters—Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott being among them. Her parents and Daphne are squirrelled away in a cottage somewhere in Manchester. Torn between their Pureblood ideals and the horrors of war, they're awaiting (dreading) the day that Death-Eaters will pull them into their ranks.
As for her, she's all alone.
She pushes the door open, bringing an icy chill with her into the bar. It's not that much different from the ones in Magical London. But the smell of Muggle tobacco is pungent and she tries not to wrinkle her nose. Act like a Muggle, she reminds herself firmly, and leaves her expensive coat up on the rack along with the rest.
Her eyes flit around the room. It's hard to pick out a face when everyone is hunched over their drinks. Quiet murmurs fill the room, but it's the relaxed atmosphere of a place not at war. Her gaze lands on the sole man seated at the counter, with his back to the door and his hat pulled low over his ears.
She goes over and settles down on the stool beside him. The bartender immediately comes over and she smiles at him. "One beer, please. Thank you."
Beside her, the man stiffens. She notices him sneak a glance at her. After the bartender pours her a pint and leaves, he raises his head. "Astoria?"
