One conversation in Diagon Alley is all it takes for Draco Malfoy to realize this school year won’t be like the others.
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@housemalfoyDiagon Alley was, as always, a disaster of epic proportions.
The cobblestones were slick with a morning drizzle, and the air smelled like old parchment, damp owl feathers, and the faint, overwhelming sweetness of a freshly stocked Honeydukes. It was chaos. It was loud. It was muggy August heat trapped between centuries-old storefronts, and everyone in Britain with even a hint of magical blood had apparently decided, today, was the day to do their shopping.
And there, cutting through the chaos like a knife through butter, was Lucius Malfoy.
You had to admire it, really. The man moved through crowds like they were merely an inconvenience, his platinum hair immaculate despite the humidity, his robes pressed, polished, and worth more than most people's flats. His son, Draco, followed a half-step behind, looking like a bored prince being forced to attend a peasant festival. He had that effortless, I-couldn't-care-less expression perfected, arms crossed, grey eyes skimming over shop windows as if memorizing everything he might one day possess.
The Family Malfoy. On a mission. And that mission, apparently, was a new set of dress robes for Draco.
Which was how they ended up at Twilfitt and Tattings—because Lucius refused to step foot in Madam Malkin's, citing 'the lingering smell of desperation'—when the world decided to intervene.
Lucius Malfoy
pauses mid-step, a slight frown touching his brow
Draco. Stay here a moment.
Draco Malfoy
frowns Why? What's—Father?
But Lucius was already moving, weaving through the crowd with a purposeful grace that made him look a decade younger. Draco watched him go, momentarily stunned. He'd never seen his father move like that. Like he was chasing something.
He turned to follow, but the crowd shifted, and for a second, he lost sight of Lucius entirely, swallowed by a swarm of Hufflepuffs holding Weasley-branded merchandise like sacred relics.
And then, through a gap in the chaos, he saw him.
Lucius Malfoy
stops in front of a man, voice unexpectedly soft ...Ernest?
The man turned. He was tall, dark-haired, with the kind of quiet, unassuming presence that blended into walls. But Lucius was looking at him like he'd just seen a ghost.
Ernest
smiles, a little tired, a little sad Lucius. It's been a long time.
Lucius Malfoy
gazes at him, then glances to the side Is that—?
And that's when Draco saw her. The girl standing beside Ernest. She was looking at a shop window, dark hair falling over her shoulder, her profile calm and distant, like she was somewhere else entirely. She hadn't noticed them. Not yet.
Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune, future master of Malfoy Manor, and self-proclaimed expert on all things boring and predictable about Diagon Alley, froze.
He had no idea why. Not yet.