On June 12th, 1995 Harry finds Malfoy in Treadwell’s Books, thumbing through a copy of The True Story of Jesus Christ.
Harry had to do two double-takes through the large glass window of the shop to reassure himself that he wasn’t hallucinating. The place sold magical books— authored by muggles and wixen alike. He knew the place was owned and run by a witch and her husband- if not for the firm handshake she’d given him when he first entered the place last summer.
He quietly entered the shop and pretended to browse, lifting up this book and that until he reached the bookshelf where Malfoy stood. Malfoy’s eyes slowly raised up to Harry, and then slowy lowered back to his book, before he promptly dropped the book with a harsh gasp, the novel landing on the thickly carpeted floor with a soft thud.
“What are you doing here?” He shrilled in what could barely count as a whisper. Harry picked up the book from the ground and held it out to Malfoy, who was staring at him like he’d just done a cartwheel in the middle of the shop.
“Same as you, actually, just browsing for some books on our Lord and Savior.”
“Who?” Harry tapped the cover of the book. “This bloke? He’s not some musician?” Malfoy raised a brow at the cover again before he seemed to shake himself out of the distraction and put the book down on a display table. He glared at Harry. “How did you find me?”
“I wasn’t looking for you, you self-centered prat.” Malfoy ignored this.
“For all I know you could be stalking me!” Harry sighed through his nose, and ignoring Malfoy’s huffs of disdain he hauled him out of the bookshop by the arm, giving a quick wave to the cashier on the way.
“How do I know you’re not here to terrorize muggles, or something?” The look Draco gave him was unreadable, and he wrenched himself out of Harry’s grip as soon as they made their way out onto Store St.
“Believe me, that’s the last thing I’d be doing here,” He muttered. “I was bored, is that enough of an answer for you?”
“I guess so.” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets, kicking at a paper cup on the ground. “And I really wasn’t stalking you, s’ just a coincidence.” He was met with Malfoy’s classic sneer. “A very unfortunate coincidence.”
They started down Store St. in an awkward silence. The sun was just barely out between some thin clouds, and a bin lorry was huffing its way down the road. Malfoy seemed unfazed if not slightly apprehensive towards all the cars and the bin lorry, making Harry wonder how long he’d been wandering around the West End by himself.
“What’d you mean when you said terrorizing muggles was ‘the last thing you’d be doing’? Have a sudden change of heart?”
“Never run out of questions, do you?” Harry shrugged, turning them down a corner onto Tottenham Court Rd. Malfoy crossed the street ahead of him, giving Harry a simmering look that said don’t you dare follow me, before he disappeared into the mass of tourists and museum goers.
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