where: Eeylop’s Owl Emporium/Magical Menagerie, Diagon Alley
when: midday on a Tuesday
who: open!
Reality is this: it’s midday and Draco’s on his lunch break; he heads to Eeylop’s to grab some treats for Cheshire (yes, he has to explain, Cheshire is an owl). It’s a rainy Tuesday, dark and chilly, and even though the shop doesn’t smell pleasant it’s a welcome reprieve from the weather, til a young boy enters with his pet snake. Draco doesn’t realize what he’s looking at, initially, just sees the vague, sinuous shape in his peripheral, curved around the boy’s shoulders. Harmless, to most people, but Draco’s not most people. It’s immediate, the panic, nausea roiling his stomach while his heart beats too fast. It’s not her, it’s not her, he repeats in his head, mantra doing little good. You’re a Slytherin, for fucks sake, what kind of Slytherin is afraid of snakes? But it’s too late when he shuts his eyes, hand gripping the bag of owl treats so tightly it breaks, scattering pellets across the floor.
Reality is not (anymore): Nagini’s thick, heavy body swishing over the hardwood floor in the hall outside his door; terror rising in his throat as he wonders whether the order’s been given, sweat prickling at his temples, heart in his throat. Mangled screams that echo up from the basement at all hours of the day and night. Fingers clutched so tight around his borrowed wand that his nails dug into his palm, as if he was powerful enough to do anything, anyway. Watching the Dark Lord wave a hand and then, ever obedient, Nagini’s mouth open wide for a new victim.
Reality is this: he’s crouched, shuddering, sweat-drenched in Eeylop’s Owl Emporium & Magical Menagerie for all the world to see. He doesn’t know if anyone’s paying attention, doesn’t care, can barely move. Is it gone? He doesn’t know how long he’s been hunched here, alone; it could’ve been seconds or hours. With trembling fingers, he reaches out to pick up the strewn owl treats, fumbling with the tiny pieces without really seeing them, trying to catch a full breath. Part of him thinks he might black out; he thought he was better, thought he’d had enough distance in years by now, and feels pathetic.
Then, a hand grips his shoulder—he lurches, breath caught in his throat, too afraid (always afraid, aren’t you, Draco; bet you haven’t gone a day in your life without being afraid of something) to turn and find out who he’s been exposed to at his worst. At least ‘his worst’, these days, isn’t quite as bad as it was back then.
“Are you alright?” he hears behind him, murmured. He swallows enough of his pride to twist his head.
Lavender tended to stick to Diagon Alley on her days off. It was too much, staying in Hogsmeade where she would only find herself seeing all of her regular customers. There wasn’t much she actually needed today, shopping wise, only the next batch of potions to deal with the monthly cycles that she couldn’t ever escape from, but they wouldn’t be ready to pick up for another hour and so she wandered up and down the street, finding entertainment in window shopping.
It was a rabbit that caught her eye first, one that sent her spinning back in time by how shockingly like Binky the little thing looked. If she were as impulsive as she had been ten years before, she would have already bought the bunny but now she had to think about the fact that she sometimes struggled to look after herself, she couldn’t handle a pet. She stepped to the side to allow a boy to pass, barely glancing over the snake he had over his shoulders. She really should get going. Lavender loved animals that were cute but her foray into Care of Magical Creatures lessons had taught her that she didn’t really like most animals in general, so this wasn’t the place for her to stay. Yet, she still found herself distracted by movement in the shop, and the sound of dry food scattering across the floor. At this point, Lavender knew she would be better to go. The squawking of over-excited owls and the disarray the shop quickly descended into was so very far from her scene, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from that familiar shade of blond hair.
Everybody in their year had been affected in some way; their year more than others. That was an unfortunate side-effect of six years of Hogwarts with the Boy-Who-Lived and a final year of children playing at being soldiers. Lavender felt as if she had fallen far from grace but she knew she was not the only one. Ten years ago, would Draco Malfoy be seen crouched down in the middle of some sort of crisis in public? Or would Lavender Brown be the one to approach him, only concern on her face? A face, once pretty, but now ruined by the mark of Fenrir Greyback, so that her shame and insecurities were bared for the world to see. There was no more hiding behind gossip or giggles or cuteness, so really what did she have to lose by showing an inch of kindness to the likes of Draco Malfoy?
“Are you alright?” she asked, not really thinking as she reached out towards him but her hand fell away when he flinched in response. “Malfoy, it’s okay. It’s—” She stopped herself from saying it’s just me. They had never exactly been on speaking terms before. “I’m not here to hurt you. What happened?”
