The sun had just hidden itself behind the unending horizon as the moon’s dance began. The pale white light did little for illuminating the path. Dark shadows of buildings and trees were cast upon the ground, creating large, false images of horror and fear. Not one sound could be heard within miles of the barren and empty town.

A booming sound like a gunshot shattered the glassy silence. Grunts of pain emerged from a dark figure that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the road, crouched on all fours, shaggy blonde hair obscuring his face from view. He was shaking all over as he fought gravity, attempting to rise from the harsh cement. Breathing in rough gasps, he fought the endless pain until he was standing on his own two feet. Using whatever willpower he had left, he raised his head and looked around.

Where the bloody hell am I? he thought, his vision growing increasingly more blurred from exhaustion. His body was threatening to fall to the ground. He battled the urge to pass out, hoping to find somewhere to stay as he moved forward forward, grunting with each pained step.

What is this place? he wondered as he continued to slump down the road, the dark shadows and complete
silence eerily creeping up on him. A shred of fear sliced through his body as he thought he saw something whip past him in the darkness. Swallowing hard as the fear chilled his blood, he looked around. For the second time that day, he feared for his life.

No! Don’t think about that, he scorned himself, trying his very best not to close his eyes. Every time he did blinked a black canvas of everlasting darkness played in his head. And only one person was the star of the motion picture of his mind. Him. His so called roll model; the one who he had looked up to for so many years of his childhood. The one who had constantly fed him lies upon lies; the one who caused fear to spread through his veins just at the mention of his name.

Lucius Malfoy. His ‘father’, the one who was supposed to care for him, but he never did. The only thing Lucius Malfoy cared about was, undoubtedly, himself. The lingering fears overpowered him and clicked the film of memories to life. He stopped in his tracks as the events from just moments ago came back into consciousness.

“You’re willing to give it all up for her?� Lucius Malfoy sneered in digust. “A disgusting, lowlife, worthless piece of filth?� His voice had an icy, hysterical flare to it. Every wrinkle and curve of his face seemed horrid and magnified.

A solitary eyebrow was casually raised, questioning; intimidating. His lip curled upwards threateningly as his fists lay clenched by his sides. He wore back robes, clashing with his pale skin and sharp gray eyes. Eyes that held hatred, disappointment, and most of all, the wish of seeing the boy before him drop dead. He stared down until his son, Draco, merely nodded, his jaw set in determination.
“Pitiful,� Lucius stated, spitting down upon Draco’s feet. The smirk was completely gone from his once graceful features, but his cold demeanor remained. “We’ll just have to see about that, then.�

Draco looked up to his fathers eyes defiantly. He knew what was coming next, but for once in his life, he wanted his father to look into his eyes as he did his cowardly business. He wanted to force his father to see the pain that he himself caused with his sick ways. He wanted him to see his son, his replica, writhe in pain because of the spineless deeds he performed.

“You know, Father,� Draco interrupted the steely silence, “one day, you might regret this. One day, you might regret a lot of things.� He took a dramatic pause and looked around the large and lavish living room in which he had grown up. “I hope you die a painful death before you reach that day. That way, when you’re rotting in hell, you’ll at least have something to think about.� Draco grit his teeth through the entire statement, staring coldly into his father’s eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he spit down onto his father’s feet, mimicking Lucius’ earlier act.

Lucius’ eyes fired up in anger as he gracefully clasped his hand around his wand. “If there’s one thing I regret in this world, more than anything, it is raising you as if you were worth any of this.� He gestured grandly to his wealth.
Draco, letting the words bounce off him, just glared at his father. He jerked his head upwards and snarled, motioning for him to get on with it.

Lucius cocked an eyebrow and smiled a devil’s smile. “Well, if that’s what you really want.� He raised his wand and pointed it directly at Draco’s heart. “This one’s for her,� he said, slashing a beam of white light at him. Draco fell to the floor in unimaginable pain. It had no affect on Lucius, who kept aiming spells at his own son. A blue light. A red one, next. Yellow. Silver. Orange. Black.

Draco remained on the floor, his body and mind going through countless dark spells of torture. He wished for it all to end. He wished for the suffering and unbearable streaks of pain throughout every shred of his being to come to a halt. And finally, after what seemed like hours of agonizing crawling towards death, it did.

Realizing the pause, Draco used every ounce of power and magic he had left to Apparate away. He couldn’t really focus on where he was to end up, only that he needed to find somewhere safe…

A chill creaked through his body as the flashback ended. He closed his eyes once more, ridding himself of the horrors, and opened them with renewed courage to live. Once again, he set off in search of somewhere to stay.

It would help if I knew where the bloody hell I was! he screamed at himself, frustration mounting upon the already intolerable pain. He walked a few more paces until his knees gave out and he cried out in hopelessness. He fell back down on all fours, supporting his weight with his upper body as much as he could with his arms. He let his head droop down, staring at the cement, taking in the state of himself in the process.

His pants were tattered and ripped in every direction, revealing fresh wounds, blood caked or dripping around the edges. He expected his face looked much the same. His shirt - it’s not really a shirt now, is it? - was completely gone, except for half of a sleeve on his right arm. Beautiful, he thought, I can be the one-sleeved wonder.

Marveling that he could be sarcastic and joking at a time like this, he shook his head and looked back to the scratched cement of the road, following one of the cracks with his eyes. Suddenly, a flash of green appeared in his peripheral vision. Draco cringed, thinking it was a Killing Curse. He froze in anticipation, just waiting for the swift, but certain, death.

Ten agonizing seconds came and went. Nothing. He lifted his head and looked to the source of the light. His jaw dropped and his eyes opened up in disbelief. What in the world is that?

An old hotel, much like the Leaky Cauldron, had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The building was completely black, or at least it seemed so in the pale moonlight. It was fairly large, four stories with a large balcony and an encasement surrounding each floor. The building looked like it might fall over any second, and yet, there it stood. Draco concluded that it had to be held up by magic.

He sighed in relief. Wizards and witches nearby; surely they could help him. Through the darkness, Draco could make out three words on the rickety sign above the door.

“The Green Dragon,� he said aloud, using his voice for the first time in what seemed like years.

What the bloody hell is the Green Dragon?

Shifting his weight around from arm to arm, Draco finally gathered enough strength to pull himself off the ground. Green Dragon? he repeated over and over in his mind. Green.... Dragon?

Chanting the name to himself, he took a few steps forward, making his way to the large wooden door. He contemplated his next move in the frosty silence, debating with himself whether he should knock, or just open the door. Knocking won’t do me any good. It doesn’t seem like anyone is awake, now does it? he thought, angrily. Then I suppose I should just go ahead and open–

His thoughts were cut off by a loud bang as the door swung open.

“Why, hello there,� a deep voice slithered through the darkness. It sounded almost rusty to Draco. With just three words he’d already heard the creaks and roughness of an aging man. It reminded Draco of an un-oiled door hinge, creaking and squeaking annoyingly.

“Hello,� Draco grunted tiredly, a dab of confusion clouding his conduct.

“I take it you’ve lost your way, and need some help. Am I right, boy?�

Draco stared at the old man with an unbelieving glare. How did he know that? Draco wondered, trying to sweep the thought to the back of his mind.

“Not much for words, are you? Alright then, come along, get into the light; let me get a good look at you.�

The mysterious man grabbed Draco by the arm, and pulled him in the front door. Draco gasped wordlessly in pain at the man’s sudden action, flinching from his firm grip as he found himself disappearing down a dimly lit hall.

When they finally made their way into the main room, bright light stunned Draco’s eyes. After blinking a few times, he looked all around the room, absorbing everything in sight. To his left was a large staircase, the white marble stairs lined with faded gold trimming, contrasting grandly with the rest of the dark décor. To his right was a sitting room, adorned with long black tables and comfy looking black couches and chairs, currently occupied by a few mature, yet distressed looking witches and wizards. Just ahead of Draco was a large counter, and behind it what, appeared to be, a small kitchen. The walls all around were covered with small paintings. All together, it gave on the appearance of someone’s home, or, at the very least, a friendly atmosphere.

What kind of abnormal place is this? Draco thought. Suddenly a picture of the Leaky Cauldron appeared in his mind. He shook the thought away and concluded that this place would do for the night. He looked back to his companion from the doorway, unable to help the distasteful expression that crossed his face.

The man before him was very old, with a beard so white it would’ve challenged Dumbledore’s. His robes were of dark navy, with a slight gold lining. He was short and slightly hunched over, but as Draco had already learned (painfully, he thought), he was a strong man, with a firm grip. His eyes were large and seemed to be absorbing Draco’s appearance. With every shift of discomfort Draco made, the man’s eyes shot to the spot – the leg, the arm, the hip that he moved – and analyzed it. He was probably wondering what exactly had happened, the reason behind his disheveled appearance.

Oh, damn. What have I done to deserve this? Draco thought disbelievingly as he stared back at the scrutinizing old man. Draco didn’t care enough to challenge his questioning gaze, only wishing to be suited with a room. So he stood quietly for a minute or two, being scanned from top to bottom, when suddenly the strange man started talking.

“Right, then,� the man spoke, breaking the stillness of the air. “My name is Blenkinsop Waterbut. Before you say anything, I honestly don’t know what my mum, bless her soul, was thinking when she named me. But, I like to believe I live up to my name. You can call me Blenk for short, alright lad?� Blenk looked at Draco, questioning to see if he was still following.

Draco nodded, and let the man continue with his introduction.

“As you probably read, you’ve arrived at the Green Dragon. Not everyone makes it here, mind you. Only a select few; consider yourself fortunate. I am the owner of this here place. Here at the Green Dragon, we’re what you need us to be. We’ve got rooms, we’ve got a kitchen. We’ve got everything your normal pub would have, and more.� He smiled at Draco, giving him an approving look, as though his eyes were trying to soak his appearance into his memory.

Draco just blinked at him. He didn’t really care what the old man had to say; he needed a room, a bath and a decent meal. And he needed it now.

“Would you mind fitting me with a room, and possibly a meal?�

Blenk looked as if he had been expecting the question. “You’re quite to the point, aren’t you? Very ‘down-to-it’. No nonsense,� he murmured to himself.

Draco rolled his eyes. Does he ever stop talking?

He didn’t ask for Draco’s bags; the old man surely would have noticed that he didn’t have any. He just gestured for Draco to follow him up the stairs. Draco trailed Blenk, slumping up each step, grabbing onto the railing as if it were the only thing keeping him standing. The spiraling staircase was dizzying, causing Draco to pause and catch his breath at every floor. Draco realized, rather disdainfully, that each floor had a different theme of colors. Strange, he thought, this man has too much time on his hands…

Once they reached the sixth floor, Blenk shoved his hand into his pocket, which proceeded to clink and jingle. After a few moments of clattering, Draco’s impatience overwhelmed him. He began to tap his already exhausted foot and roll his eyes repeatedly. Finally, Blenk smiled and pulled out the correct key.

“An impatient one, eh? No nonsense, impatient; makes sense,� Blenk nodded to himself as if piecing together a puzzle as he gently pushed the key into place.

The lock clanged open and Blenk swung the door open wide. Draco pushed past him, grabbed the keys from his hands, and slammed the door in Blenk’s face. On the other side he could hear Blenk ‘hmm-ing’ to himself, his footsteps dwindling away as he quietly spoke to himself, murmuring, “Impatient, no nonsense, temper…� as though he were memorizing a list.

Draco looked at the bed and sighed, dropping the keys on the floor. Forgetting his tattered, dirty clothing, he fell onto the bed and shut his eyes, letting the soft, inviting mattress soothe him into slumber.


***

Clunk.

Draco inhaled suddenly, awakened from his sleep. Without opening his eyes, he strained his ears for the source of the sound. He realized they were footsteps, and quickly recalled the previous night. Cracking open one eye, he searched the room. The outline of a slightly hunched form stood over by the dark maroon curtains to his left.

“Rise and shine, boy!� a loud, cheery voice interrupted Draco’s last moments of lonesome bliss. With a smile, Blenk grasped the curtains and pulled them apart rapidly. Sunlight burst into the room, blinding Draco. He groaned in discomfort.

Blenk smiled at him. “Late sleeper, eh? Well, wake up, boy. I can tell that you’re tired, and you’d much rather not have me here right about now; it’s all in that grim little frown of yours. But breakfast ends in an hour. Get moving.�

Draco got up rather unwillingly after Blenk left the room, dressed in some clothing he found in the bathroom, and made way downstairs. When he reached the bottom floor he saw a group of wizards scattered around the sitting room, each seemingly sad and distraught, just like those he’d seen the previous night. Walking quickly past their dreary faces, he sat himself down at a chair in front of the counter, waiting for a waiter to help him.

“Can I help you, lad?�

Draco groaned inwardly at the familiar voice. He sure does get around, Draco thought as he looked up. Standing directly in front of him, on the opposite side of the counter, was Blenk.

“Yes, err, I was just … hungry,� he concluded lamely.

“Surprisingly enough, I think I got that part!� Blenk said with a laugh. Draco flashed an annoyed smirk at him. The man really had a way of getting on his nerves. To Draco’s exasperation, Blenk didn’t walk away like a good owner and get him food. No, he stood rooted to the spot and stared at Draco head on.

“How’d you sleep?� he asked cheerily, prodding Draco further into frustration.

“Fine,� Draco stated in a firm, curt tone.

“So, boy, what’s your name, anyway?� Blenk asked, not discouraged by Draco’s unfriendliness.

“Draco.�

“What kind of name is that? Oh, well, who I am to talk!� he joyfully chuckled. When Draco didn’t respond, he spoke again.

“Not much of a question and answer person, are you?�

Draco sighed in frustration. He glared at Blenk, challenging him, asking ‘What do you think?’ with his eyes.

Understanding flooded Blenk’s face, yet still he persisted.

“So what brings you to the Green Dragon?�

“The urge to Apparate where death comes by nosy questions.�

Blenk laughed heartily and looked at Draco again, almost as if re-evaluating him. He’d better stop staring at me or he’s going to regret it… Draco thought menacingly.

“So? Why?� Blenk pressed.

Draco grit his teeth. “Because,� he dragged out the word, “I needed to get away from my father for a little while, alright? I Apparated away, I ended up on that road out there. End of story.�

“What happened with your father? Are you alright?� Blenk just didn’t know when to stop.

“Do I look like I’m alright? Did I look alright last night? What do you think he did?� Draco shot back, testily.

“You look like you need to calm down a bit there, boy! Let me get you some food.�

Blenk nodded contently with all this new information, his eyes swelling with an inkling of understanding as he walked off to gather breakfast.

Draco arched an eyebrow and rolled his eyes as Blenk left his side. After a few minutes, he began tapping his fingers impatiently on the counter when something moved suddenly past the corner of his eye. He turned his head towards an open window, just in time to see a brown head of curly hair walk past. Draco looked on, astonished, and leaned forwards to see her face. Oh, good Lord. Is it really her?

He continued staring through the window, his mind reeling with memories from just a month ago.

They had both been living their separate lives after Hogwarts. They hadn’t crossed paths, even throughout the war. They had avoided each other quite well, never before seeing one another… not until that day.

Draco was out on his own, one of his once-in-a-blue-moon outings from Malfoy Manner. He had just finished a meal at the Three Broomsticks, gathering his belongings as he dropped a few coins onto the table, eyes focused on his feet as he made way to the door. He didn’t look up until he roughly smashed into someone, sending them both falling into the snow outside the door.

Apologizing gruffly, Draco had swiftly picked himself up, reaching out his hand to whomever he had knocked over. When he felt a small hand slip into his, he looked up, astonished. Grasping his hand was none other than Hermione Granger. He stared at her openly, not having seen her for over four years. They stayed like that for a few moments; hand in hand, frozen in time as memories of long ago zoomed in their minds. Suddenly, both of them were pulled back into reality. He withdrew his hand once she got to her feet, nodded and whispered, “Good day, Granger,� walking quickly in the other direction, never looking back.

As Blenk pushed a platter of food across the counter, the memory began to fade from Draco’s mind. He blinked rapidly, trying to bring his eyes into focus as Blenk tried to reawaken him from his reminiscing.

“You alright?� Blenk questioned, intently gazing at Draco. His’ change in demeanor was obvious, body slouched forward, the air of confidence usually surrounding him gone, face blank and confused.

Blenk snapped his fingers in front of Draco’s face repeatedly until Draco finally shook his head, staring at the man in front of him as he recollected where he was. Blenk took note of that, too, his list of observations growing by the moment. Draco brought the food closer to himself and took a bite, doing his best to ignore the familiar curiosity growing on Blenk’s face.

“What just happened, lad?�

Prod, prod, prod. Is that all he can do? Draco thought, swallowing his mouthful of toast. He shook his head, refusing to answer the question, but Blenk didn’t give up.

“What was it? You can tell me; I’m always here to listen.�

Draco sighed for what seemed the millionth time.

“Great. Go listen to someone else,� he huffed, trying to shake Blenk away.

Blenk stared at Draco stoic, his eyes encouraging him to explain what had happened.

“Nothing happened, alright? When you finally left me alone, I looked out the window and think I might’ve seen someone familiar, but I’m not really sure. Nothing to go write bloody novel about!�

Blenk ignored his last statement and pushed him further. “Who was it?�

“Yes, because I obviously know exactly who it was, correct? That’s why I said I wasn’t sure?� Draco rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw in anger. Stupid questions get stupid answers, he thought.

“What’d she look like?�

“Firstly, I never said it was a she. Secondly, I don’t see why it matters!� Draco was about to stand up and storm to his room before Blenk spoke out again.

“Brown, curly hair? About this tall?� Blenk said, marking a height a little shorter than Draco with his hand. Draco simply nodded, hoping that they weren’t actually thinking of the same person.

“Oh, so you probably mean Hermione, eh? Not many young girls who look like that come around here. Oh, yes. Hermione is quite beautiful, isn’t she? Most of the lads who come here lately fall in love with her – love or something else, you know. Hermione’s quite a girl, she is. Walked in here a scratch less than a month ago, distraught, with a lot on her mind. About some boy she’d run into. Yes, yes...� Blenk rambled, nodding to himself and looking from Draco to the door.

“I suppose she’ll be here soon!� he continued. “She always comes around this time to help me out; she brings my groceries and a few books lately. It is quite nice. She feels as if she has to repay me for something. Don’t know why, though,� he ended with a jolly smile, as if he really did know why.

Right on cue, Hermione walked through the front door, greeting Blenk warmly as she, unknowingly, sat down next to Draco at the counter. With a grunt she handed over a few bags filled to the brim with large books, and assorted groceries, smiling as Blenk took them off her hands. He grinned in return as he disappeared to the back, his eyes flashing to Draco for a split second before turning away. Following his gaze, Hermione looked over her shoulder, finally catching a glimpse of Draco.

She turned slightly, her mouth open wide as Draco’s cheeks flared and flushed. His heart raced faster as she continued to gape at him.

“Draco?� she whispered quietly in shock, as though she hadn't meant to say the name at all.

The word coming from her lips simply shattered his composure. It slithered through all the conversations of the room, from her mouth to his ears. His throat went dry and his mouth was parched. Why in the bloody hell is shehere? he wondered, panicked. Even though he already knew the reason, having just discussed the matter with Blenk, the answer escaped him. The fact that Hermione Granger was sitting before him, mouth still wide open in awe, had made him lose all common sense.

Her brown curls still bounced wildly around her shoulders, making her spot-able across any room. Or through a window, he thought, still in shock that she was sitting next to him. She was wearing Muggle clothing, making her contrast greatly from the despairing witches and wizards around her; actually, she was wearing a smock, Draco realized with some distaste. A small tag with a greeting and her name was perched upon the upper right corner; apparently she was off from her stupid Muggle workplace for lunch.

As he continued to stare at her, she crossed her arms over her chest, almost hiding herself from the world. Her entire body language screamed that she was still the same old Hermione Granger. But, as Draco quickly realized, she wasn’t. When he looked into her eyes, he realized the flame that used to burn in them was gone. They seemed almost empty; a shadow of what they used to be. I'm not surprised, he thought, his eyes glazing over in reminisce.After what happened in the war, we all lost ourselves.

He had never expected to see her again, especially not after what had happened only a month ago.

“Dra- Malfoy?� she stuttered uncertainly, as though he might be a mirage or an illusion; just a trick of the light, or a daydream. It must have been shocking to see him again so soon.

Ever since that day in Hogsmeade, Draco had thought of their small, insignificant meeting. That was why his father had tortured him. Lucius had assumed that the thoughts Draco was having about Hermione were out of loving emotions. Were they? He didn’t know himself. Draco blinked and cleared his mind, focusing on Hermione’s face.

“Malfoy?� she whispered for the third time, her conviction waning. She stared into his silver eyes questioningly, almost as if she wanted him to deny that was his name, and say that she was mistaken.

“Hello,� he said, finally finding control over his voice. On the outside, Draco was calm and composed. On the inside, he was breaking down.

“What brings you here?� Hermione asked after a moment. She seemed to have gained some courage in her voice, but her awkward posture gave her away.

“Long story,� he said, curtly.

“I’ve got time,� she offered.

“I’d rather not,� he snapped, losing his cool. Why is she here? Why is she talking to me?

***

Just around the corner, out of sight, Blenk was standing silently, overwhelmed with information. He was an expert at observation, soaking every passing moment into his memory, like the scene unfolding before him. But this time was different somehow. Draco and Hermione were both acting very strange, as though they knew each other from previous experiences – not so great previous experiences.

He stared on with interest as Hermione asked Draco questions, encouraging him, even when he repeatedly shot her down. “No nonsense, impatient, closed,� Blenk murmured to himself, pushing himself deeper into the shadows.

***

Hermione slouched, sighing in irritation. Draco figured she was discouraged because of his harsh answers. Probably thinks it’s worthless to keep trying, he thought, feeling a slight stab of regret. How many people in his life had thought that about him? How many were right?

Thoughts seemed to be swimming in Hermione’s head as her eyes unfocused. Draco saw the longing to leave on her face. He sensed that she was about to get up and go if he didn’t say anything. He had to do something; for some strange reason, beyond his understanding, he didn’t want her to walk away just yet.

“So… how’ve you been?� Draco asked nearly silent. Hermione was surprised; he could tell. Her eyes opened wide, and her eyebrows shot up.

“I’ve been… fine, I suppose. How about you?� she inquired just as silently.

“I’ve been…� he drifted off, never finishing, instead looking off into space. He could sense Blenk staring, seemingly contemplating the situation, just as he, himself, was. His eyes snapped back and forth from Blenk to the counter, still not completing his answer to Hermione. He, for the first time, sighed gratefully when he saw Blenk take a deep, question-filled breath as he stepped back to the counter.

“Draco, m’boy! How’s that breakfast going? Eating it all up?�

Draco shook his head, ‘no,’ looking slightly relieved at Blenk’s “sudden reappearance.� He hoped Blenk could distract Hermione enough for her not to notice Draco’s discomfort.

“Well then, you’d better get to that! Hermione,� he said, directing his attention to her, “how’s the job going?�
“Oh, quite well. Our boss has got us working a tad bit harder than usual lately, but I can handle it.� (She blushed as Blenk told her, “You can handle anything!�)

“And how about you?� she questioned, “how’s the Green Dragon doing?�

“Fine, fine as usual. Not many new people, you know; except this young lad! Draco – nice boy, a bit tempered and impatient though – just came in last night! Quite distraught, weren’t you lad? Clothes all ripped and obviously very tired. But he’s a right lot better this morning, aren’t you Draco?�

Draco ground his teeth. He had wanted Blenk to distract Hermione; not tell her what happened. At least, he thought, he hasn’t told her about my father. Yet…

He gave a fake smile and nod to both Blenk and Hermione, seething inside. Perhaps having Blenk here wasn’t something to rejoice about.

“What happened?� Hermione inquired, turning to face Draco.

Lovely. Now I have two people to attack me with nosy questions; this must be my lucky day.

“I was really just looking for a spot of tea, so I thought, ‘why not!’ and came here.�

Draco felt a little bad when he saw Hermione’s distaste for his sarcasm. He sighed and tried again. “There was a… err, problem at my house. So, I left.�

Hermione nodded, seemingly sensing his discomfort with the subject. Draco decided to turn the tables and start asking the questions.

“How’d you find this place?�

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it, repeating the action several times. “I got here about a month ago, when I, er, had a little stirrup of, er, thoughts.� Draco realized she had chosen her words with precision, regardless of the hesitation.

Draco merely shook his head in understanding as he recalled that they had run into each other about a month ago, too. Is that why she was here? he wondered, Because of me?

Confusion flooded his mind yet again as he stared at the now cold plate of food. He refused to look back up at either Hermione or Blenk. He was sure that Hermione’s curiosity would pester him to death, and Blenk’s smug, knowing face would only annoy him.

Hermione, it seemed, had taken his discomfort to heart. She stood up as Draco turned and gazed at her, unable to string words together.

“Well, Blenk, it’s been great to see you! I’ll be back in a few days with the usual! Have a great day!� she smiled happily at him as he nodded his thanks.

“And you, too, Mr. Malfoy. Have a great day,� she suddenly said, very silently.

“I can’t,� he whispered.

“You can’t what?� she asked, confused.

“I don’t have good days anymore.�

Hermione eyebrows knitted together and she frowned at the very depressing response. “Well, then. Maybe if you looked past all the bad things, and breached the good, you could finally start having good days,� she stated thoughtfully. “Good day, Mr. Malfoy.�

“Good day, Ms. Granger.�

The corner of her mouth lifted sadly, and she walked out the door.

Draco watched her go and sighed. He turned back to the counter and saw Blenk, still standing there, pensive as ever. What are you staring at? Draco thought with malice.

Blenk observed him carefully, for the millionth time that day, re-evaluating him. He spoke suddenly, like a spark suddenly dancing from a match.

“She’s right, you know,�

Draco looked up at him again and frowned. As if he didn’t already have enough on his mind, now he had to process Blenk’s input as well?

“What she said, about your life. You have to rise up from your darkness, because if not, you can’t live your life. Lives can’t be consumed with thoughts of the past. If you’re stuck in your past, how can you expect to get to your future?�

Blenk’s eyes glinted knowingly as Draco stared back at him, obviously considering his words for the first time.

Maybe he’s not such a fool after all, Draco thought. What Blenk said was true. He couldn’t continue to dwindle in his thoughts of his father. Even if it had only been two days, it was two too many. His father wasn’t deserving of his fears, of his thoughts, of his life. He had to climb out of the hole he’d dug himself now, or he’d never be able to come out of it.

Many thoughts were racing through Draco’s mind as he unconsciously reached out for a piece of toast. He sat up straighter, sizing up the predicament called his life. He nibbled on the bread and sat still for a few minutes. A shred of hope gathered in his eyes, and Draco subconsciously noticed Blenk admiringly smile.

***

This is it, Draco thought, descending the stairs of the Green Dragon that night. He had slept for a few hours, and made up his mind. He was leaving; this was it.

He looked around the empty main room. He’d only been at this place for about forty-eight hours, and yet it felt more common to him than his stupid room back at Malfoy Manor. At least someone here cares, to a certain extent, about me, he thought.

And it was true. Blenk had been one of the only people in his life that had questioned him, albeit rather annoyingly, about his life and what was going on with him. Wow, look at me, he thought, growing frustrated and embarrassed with himself, I’ve known the man for two days and suddenly we’re friends, and I appreciate him? Get a hold of yourself, Draco, he scolded as he advanced closer to the door.

As he reached for the handle, he hesitated. Shouldn’t he say goodbye to Blenk? He deserved it, didn’t he? Draco sighed. Ever since he’d gotten here, he’d been thinking about his life extensively, as well as other’s’. What is going on with me? he thought. Maybe I have changed. Maybe this place is changing me. Maybe it already has…

He grasped the handle and turned it, yanking it open. Suddenly, he heard a familiar deep voice fill his ears.

“Thought you’d leave without a goodbye, eh, lad?�

Draco, without meaning to, smiled inside. Leave it to Blenk to appear at that moment. Draco turned around and confronted the man, hesitantly shoving out his hand in the air, a small admiring smirk on his lips.

Blenk looked down at it and smiled. He firmly gripped Draco’s hand and shook it vigorously. “It’s been a pleasure, Draco. Take care of yourself.�

Draco nodded and withdrew his hand. He wanted to say two words, those magical two words, but it was becoming harder and harder for him to do with each passing second.

Blenk grinned at him, approvingly, just like the first time he had met him. Draco jerked his head and spun around on his heel. He walked out the door and stopped in his tracks. He sighed, and started to speak.

“Blenk? Yes, well … err …� Draco hesitated and spun back around, “thank …you.�

But as he turned around, he realized that the spot where the Green Dragon used to comfortably sit was now gone. The two stores next to it had taken up its space, as though it had never existed at all.

Draco smirked, impressed. He turned back around and began to walk off into the distance. The moon’s illumination danced across his face as he looked around, checking to see that no one was in sight. Then, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and with a loud CRACK, he was gone.