Chapter Text
Draco got home. He bandaged his wounds, disinfecting them with cheap vodka and never mind hygiene. Somehow he fell asleep.
In the morning, he awoke to the sound of knocking on his door.
“Coming!”
It was the landlady. She’d come for the rent. “One moment,” Draco said and turned to get his wallet.
“There were two people who wanted to see you, by the way.”
“Oh? Who were they?” Draco held out the money.
“A girl with long blonde hair and a weird way about her, and a young man with messy black hair and glasses. I told them you were sleeping.”
Draco felt his blood run cold. Why were they looking for him? Why couldn't they leave him alone? What were they going to do to him?
What on earth were they going to do to him?
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Draco closed the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily.
I have money, plenty of it. I can go to Australia, or Canada. Canada's nice. I’ll change my name, I'll get a job, and then I can be safe. No one will find me if I do a good enough job.
As if on cue, his father's voice echoed through his head.
“Are you a Malfoy or not, boy? Do we hide and cower when we're in danger?”
Draco's hand went to his eye. He stood for a few moments longer before dressing and going out.
He wandered about London aimlessly for a while, smoking like a chimney, thinking about nothing and everything.
He decided to try and find a girlfriend.
The club isn't the best place to find a lover, so the bar is where I’ll go, he thought. He walked into the first bar he found, the Cedar Fiddle.
He sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of wine.
Soon, a young man with spikes on his jacket sat down next to him.
“Hey.”
“Hello,” Draco said. American , he thought.
“How’re you doing?”
“I’m doing alright, and yourself?”
“Doing great. I'm Jake. And you?”
“My name is Draco.”
“Draco. Nice.” Jake smiled. “So, you come here often?”
“No.”
“Ah.” They sat in silence for a bit.
“Um. You live around here?” Jake asked, making another stab at conversation.
“I do.”
Draco was aware that he wasn't contributing anything to the conversation, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to be shot of this strange Anglophile and have a nice, peaceful evening.
“What's your cup of tea?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know. Who do you like? Girls, boys?”
Draco reddened. “I-I’m not sure that's any of your business.”
“Come on. Why else would you be here all alone?” Jake smiled again. “There's no shame in it.”
“All the same, I don't think it's any of your business. Thank you for your interest? Good day.”
Jake shrugged. “I'm here all night. Bye for now, Draco.”
Draco finished his glass of wine and ordered another, then got up to use the facilities. When he returned, he picked up his glass and drained it.
Something feels off, he thought. It's too...sweet.
Just as he was coming to this realisation, Jake came up behind him.
“Hey, Draco. Having fun?”
“Mm. My head is spinning.”
“Aw. Didn't think you'd be such a lightweight.” Jake slipped his arm around Draco's waist. “What do you say we have a little fun?”
Draco tried to push him off. “No, seriously, I don't feel good. I feel…”
His eyes widened. “Sleepy!”
“What's that?”
“I'm-you drugged me! You spiked my drink!” Draco redoubled his efforts. “Get off of me!”
“Shut it!”
“LEAVE ME BE!”
Draco shoved Jake off of him and stumbled backwards, his head spinning.
“C’mon, babe. Don't make a scene.”
“I'm not your babe! Leave me alone!” Draco clutched a table for support. Around him, people stared. A few bikers stood up.
“Draco, you're drunk. Come on. I’ll drop you home.”
“Stop it!” Draco's eyes were closing, his eyelids like lead weights.
The last thing he saw as he slipped into unconsciousness was a giant biker slamming Jake into a table.