Ch. 2 - New Surroundings
The youngest Malfoy walked into the mysterious building and discreetly looked in all directions, trying to see if he recognised any signs of wizards watching for him, dark or otherwise. From what he could tell, the pub was completely deserted, with the exception of the barkeep.
He had expected more of a musky smell, judging by the outer appearance of what he thought was an aged building, but when he walked in, he was greeted by the smell of freshly cut wood. It was as if the outside was a façade yet in actuality, a brand new building.
Relaxing just a little once he realised he was in fact, alone, Draco approached the man tending the bar. He opted to keep his hood up but maintained eye contact as he spoke. As he opened his mouth, he kept telling himself, ’Be polite, Draco. No sense in making a complete stranger believe you are a complete buffoon until he gets to know you better’.
“Excuse me, sir… do you mind me asking where I am? I seem to be a bit lost.” Draco chose his words carefully. They were to the point, yet did not give the stranger the impression that he was weak or needy.
Giving a gentle smile, the man nodded at him. “Yes, it certainly appears that way, doesn’t it?” He continued to wash the glasses as if they were engaged in a lovely conversation. He wore a face which was covered with the lines of age and in the back of Draco’s mind, he thought he looked like he was probably somebody’s grandfather.
Irritated with the man’s repetitious nature of answering questions, the boy almost growled his response, “Look, I am in no mood for games. I just want a simple answer to a simple question.”
’So much for politeness,’ he thought.
He spat the words out to the man who stood casually on the other side of the counter, wiping down the dusty glasses. Draco was feeling very defensive and short tempered. Together, they made for an explosive combination, especially coming from a Malfoy.
His nastiness did not seem to disturb the man tending the bar. He simply continued to watch his most recent visitor with a relaxed look upon his aged face. “This place is where those with heavy hearts and souls come to rest. What can I get for you, boy? First drink is on the house because, to be quite honest, I think you could use one!”
Draco looked at the man and began to wonder to himself if he was implying an alcoholic beverage or just a drink in general. He thought it best to test his theory and asked, “What do you recommend?” This made the other man smile, which he seemed to do quite a bit. It was, to be quite honest, beginning to irritate the young traveler.
“I have been told I serve the finest Firewhiskey from several people and trust me when I say I have seen them all. Let’s start with a glass of it and we can go from there.” The man placed the glass which he had, by this point, thoroughly polished, in front of the blonde boy and filled it halfway with the beverage.
Draco watched the man prepare his drink in front of him. He didn’t notice anything shady about the Firewhiskey. It seemed to come from an authentic bottle, not man-made so he doubted anything questionable could have been slipped into it. He accepted the glass graciously and drank it quickly, feeling the burning sensation down the back of his throat.
It hadn’t been the first time he had a drink this strong and the man at the bar was right “ it was very good. Once the glass was drained of the brown liquid, Malfoy placed the glass down on the surface of the bar and looked the man in the eye.
“What do you have for a person to eat around here?” Draco was starting to realise that he had drank the Firewhiskey very rapidly and on an empty stomach. He was hoping to counterbalance the effects before he was too far gone. The odds weren’t high for an inn to appear out of nowhere as this pub had done so. It seemed any effects from his drink would have to be slept off outside.
Before answering, the bartender extended his hand out to Draco who simply looked at it. “The name is Blenkinsop Waterbut. I am the owner of this establishment. I didn’t catch your name.”
Glaring at the man through narrow eyelids, Draco responded bitterly, “I didn’t give one. Besides, my name is unimportant and there is no way in hell that I could even begin to remember yours so I guess we’ll just skip the pleasantries.”
The owner looked at Draco with a knowing look as if he saw people like him all the time and let the words just roll right off his shoulder. “First off, you can call me Ken. Secondly…” Ken handed Draco a menu which looked to be handwritten. “This should answer your original question.” He turned to face the glasses hanging above the bar and began to clean them once again as Draco looked over the menu.
After a minute or so of pondering the options laid out on the menu, Draco looked up with a look of puzzlement. Ken smiled and urged him, “Go ahead and ask. There are a lot of original recipes on that menu from past travelers. You are free to leave one of your own favorites if you would like.”
Grunting his irritation at the man, he responded, “No, I would not, I was about to ask what in Merlin’s name ’Porcupine meatballs’ were but now I don’t know if I care to find out. I can only imagine the riff-raff that have been here before me.”
Laughing, Ken said, “Oh, those were some of the best meatballs I have ever had. The gravy makes it absolutely perfect! They make excellent leftovers as well. Care for a try?”
Draco shuddered. “I think I might skip it this time.” He used his finger to skim over the menu once again.
“I’ll take some of your chicken salad, no dressing. For my main course I will have some pot roast and mashed potatoes with carrots. Oh, and a butterbeer this time around.” He handed Ken the menu back and focused his attention on some interesting fungus growing from under his nail.
Once Ken was out of sight, Draco closed his eyes and tried to focus on where he would go from there. He was curious why he had not seen the Green Dragon earlier as he approached it but dismissed his concerns as paranoia. He allowed himself to take in his surroundings briefly and in that time, he began to focus on the music humming in the background. It had a very calming effect on him and he began to feel his muscles relax after a bit of listening. Perhaps all he needed was some time off his feet and something in his stomach to curb his nerves.
I’m sure the Firewhiskey helped in calming my nerves as well, Draco’s inner voice reminded him. The aftertaste was strong and his eyes were beginning to sting. His tongue swept the inside of him mouth and he realised how hungry he was.
Before he could formulate another thought, his meal had arrived.
Breakfast?
Lunch?
He had no clue what time it was. He vaguely recalled the darkness around him outside but he was unaware if it was after sunset or before dawn that he had entered the pub. He dove right in to his meal and as he chewed, he found his mind a bit clearer and made another attempt at formulating some sort of a plan for his very bleak looking future.
What allies do I have left? Professor Snape? Will he turn me in and if so to which side?
He stopped chewing for a brief moment and began to change his line of thought.
More specifically, which side do I feel more strongly about now?
On The Run by NikkiSue
Chapter Notes: I forgot to thank my incredible beta for this story, Abbi, in the last chapter. Forgive me. She is incredible and is gentle with my comma issues...