the enemy's within [draco]

Even though Ron was no longer living at the Burrow, his mother seemed to think it was still okay to order him around to run errands; especially now that he had his apparation license. Complaining at the top of his lungs at how unfair it was when everyone else got to stay at home, his mother chased him out with a broomstick and off he went to Diagon Alley.

With a pop! He landed right near the Leaky Cauldron. His immediate reaction when he smelt the burgers from the pub was to run in and grab one and do the errands later. It was true that she didn't say he had to be back at a certain time after all. A quick spot of lunch wouldn't hurt anyone, right? No, he better move on. So, he headed down the lane, looking for the potions shop. Honestly, he never wanted to go in there again after school had ended and potions causing so many troubles but he supposed since the potions were for food prep, that it would be okay.

Entering the shop, he looked around. Did he really need to get cindered spider-legs? Ugh, the thought of that being around his food just made him want to barf right here and right now.  Looking a little queasy, he went up to the display and started fussing around with the vials. He didn't want to scoop these stupid cinders into any vials. Someone would have to do it for him. Ah, that man must work here! He thought, seeing a blonde headed man's head from behind -- who was also the only other person in the shop.

"Excuse me, do you work here?" he said, poking the man repeatedly in the back so he would turn around.

Being unemployed, and without his usual status was beyond boring, Draco was convinced. What was he supposed to do now? Besides actually try and make nice with the same lot of people he’d hated in school, which wasn’t bloody likely in his opinion. War did nasty things to people, and seeing the other parties side of thing, never really worked out like it should have, he got that, but it didn’t mean it didn’t help make his life even more difficult. The wizard felt like he could barely walk around in the wizarding world without someone glaring at him like he was the next Quirrel. Bunch of brainless trolls, as far as he was concerned. He hadn’t exactly been willing, but most wizarding folk were willing to overlook that minor fact in order to paint him evil, which he wasn’t going to deny. He’d done bad things, but he was moving on, couldn’t they?

Draco suspected that was as likely as him getting the urge to own a Hippogriff. Running his hands through his hair, and stuffing his hands into his pockets, the ex death eater made himself leave his surprisingly modest flat, and apparate to Diagno Alley, blending into the crowds as best as he could despite the numerous stares and hisses he got. Keeping his head held high, and his ever present facade in place, the blonde made a bee line for the potions shop, and didn’t stop till he was safely inside. He wasn’t ever going to get used to that, particularly the sudden change in status. Sighing to himself, Draco began perusing the shops contents. At the moment he was just trying to collect his thoughts, scanning over the different ingredients, looking for nothing in particular, not yet. Eventually he’d go hunting for the proper ingredients for a dreamless sleep draught, he needed them most nights still, even though he wouldn’t admit it to a single soul, not even his mother.

But, for now, he would just wander, the shop was empty and the proprietor was off doing something in the back he assumed. The perfect time for him to just do nothing in particular, until his peace was disturbed by some random stranger. The man didn’t even bother to turn around to see if he recognized them, he wanted nothing to do with people right now. That was of course, until that stranger began poking him, repeatedly. At which point Draco felt more like turning the owner of a voice into a ferret this time, or maybe cursing him into oblivion, he wasn’t sure which, perhaps both? Maybe he’d just start with insulting him first, and see where that went. It was none other than one Ron Weasley, who in Draco’s opinion, was the most obnoxious wizard to grace the planet.

Squaring his shoulders, bringing himself to his full height, and hitting the other man with his best Malfoy drawl, Draco slowly turned around. He kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, but made sure to have his hand lightly resting on his wand, he wasn’t going to underestimate Weaslebee anymore “Perhaps I ought to be asking you that question  Weasley.” He spat the name out like it was poison, and he wasn’t sure if he meant to be as irritable as he was, or if it was simply a force of habit. Either way, there was no taking it back now, that would never do “But then I realized you’d be too dim to work in a place like this. And will you stop poking me?!” Sighing and closing his eyes briefly Draco paused for a moment, and then asked exasperatedly “What are you doing here, Weasley?” While he waited for the mans surely unoriginal answer to both his insults and his question, Draco couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever be able to use the great golden trio’s first names. 

The man whipped around faster than he had anticipated -- and another thing he didn't anticipate was who the man actually was. He should have recognized that white blonde mane. It was Draco Malfoy. The inner Gryffindor in him wanted to immediately bite his head off but the auror-professional in him decided that he wasn't going to let himself lower himself to Malfoy's level. Honestly, Ron didn't even want to look at him. He was such a pathetic creature. At the same time however, Ron felt almost somewhat bad for him. He too had lost a lot and even Ron was not that cruel to wish that upon someone.

What did Draco think he could actually do to him was what was going through Ron's mind. Draco no longer had a head up in society. Actually, now Ron and his family were the ones who would probably be considered the celebs of the wizarding world. "Honestly Malfoy, who dropped you on your head when you were a child?" he said, snickering at his own "clever" joke. Apparently Draco wasn't going to let up though and that began to annoy Ron. Didn't this dimwit see that he wasn't in school anymore? Or did he temporarily remove that part of his brain?

"I'll stop poking you if you stop having that foul look on your face. And the reason I'm here is none of your business." he retorted. "Get a clue, we're not in class anymore. No Goyle or --- Crab" he started, but didn't finish. Crabbe had died in the fire and even Ron wasn't going to swoop that low as to mention his name. "Sorry mate, I didn't.." he trailed, waiting patiently for a punch.

The look of surprise on Ron Weasley’s face was slightly amusing to the platinum blonde as he watched the recognition dawn on his old schoolmates face, and his amusement grew as he tried his own hand at insulting him. Shaking his head, Draco dismissed the terribly unoriginal quip, not even bothering to acknowledge it beyond a simple eye roll “That’s the best you could come up with? Even I expected better from you” Merlin, there really was no learning for the ex Gryffindor, was there? Draco could hardly believe that the wizard kept coming back for more, although, old habits did die hard, he supposed. Still, in his opinion the Auror ought to have picked better habits, like ones that didn’t get him into trouble.

And then, the ginger was talking again, opening that big oafish mouth of his, blabbering on about nothing important. Raising a perfectly arched eyebrow the recent graduate let it be known that he was having none of it, not even at this point “Weasley, you’re contradicting yourself again” Malfoy paused, hoping the other man might see where he was going with this, even though he knew that alone was highly unlikely. Seeing that his previous assumption was correct, he continued on “I’ll stop having this ‘foul’ look on my face when you stop poking me, so clearly, there’s only one way to solve both problems. And that is by not poking me anymore, in case you couldn’t figure that out by yourself.” It astounded the ex Slytherin that anyone could fail so many times in a row to learn from their previous mistakes, even if that was what made Ron Weasley so fun to pick on, he couldn’t help but feel slightly for him. It wasn’t his fault he had no wits whatsoever.

Draco had been ready for their usual snarky banter, which he usually came out on top with, being that his verbal aptitude was much better than Weasley’s, but then Ron said something that managed to put him back on his heels. Sure, he knew they weren’t in class anymore, he hadn’t been coerced by anyone in roughly two years. Being away from school and done with war was a constant reminder of the fact that they were no longer students, he didn’t need a thoughtless nitwit to remind him of that. It was the mention of Crabbe that had Draco scrabbling for his usual self control. Crabbe had been a friend since his youngest years, someone he’d come to rely on as a lackey, but they’d never really been friends. In all honestly, if he was honest with himself, that was, he wasn’t sure he’d ever had a real friend, maybe Pansy? He wasn’t sure.

Even with their friendship as it had stood, the mention of Crabbe had hurt, more than Draco would have liked to admit. Even to himself. Thing was, he almost felt as though the boy had deserved it, the more he thought about it, he should have known not to summon the fire, and known better than to do it where he had. He felt his temper, and the urge to give the other wizard a bloody nose flare, but he couldn’t do it. Instead Draco Malfoy found himself shrugging. It was a very unMalfoy like gesture, but the man didn’t care, everyone had their preconceived ideas of him already anyway, it didn’t matter what he did.

Shifting a little, clearly uncomfortable, Malfoy couldn’t really believe that Ron Weasley had actually aplogized to him “ It’s alright. He deserved what he got, if you think about it.” He was talking to Ronald bloody Weasley, had hell frozen over? He supposed if it had, he would have seen his aunt Bella by now, so maybe they were just both growing up instead? It had been Harry and Ron who had saved him and Goyle in the Room of Requirement, and he supposed they could be civil if nothing else but for that.   

Ron wasn't amused, couldn't Draco just leave him alone? He thought their feuding had moved on and was long gone. He didn't even know why Draco hated him so much in the first place; did he have to literally drip "i'm better than you" out of his pores? His parents obviously didn't teach him any manners, but that was to be expected, their parents probably didn't teach them any either. It was just a line of nonsense. However, Ron had his own prejudices against them and he knew they weren't right. But still! Ron was at least nice or as nice as he could possibly be given his life circumstances.

Ron felt like poking him for one last quick go but he stopped himself. Honestly, Draco probably wasn't as bad as he thought. The kid had a lot of issues, and a family which probably could care less because they were so concerned about what other people thought of them; the complete opposite of the Weasleys really. He could tell when Draco shrugged his shoulders to the Crabbe comment.

"No one really deserves to die in a fiery pit of dusty objects..I'm just glad I got out of there alive, really..." he said, not trying to sound selfish but probably coming off so. "Anyways, what have you been doing lately anyways? Haven't heard much from the Malfoy's since the whole battle..."

For anyone who hadn’t been in the Room of Requirement when Crabbe had so ingeniously tried to use fiendfire against Potter and Weasley, the latter’s comment would have sounded selfish, but Draco had been there, and wouldn’t have lived to remember the moment if it hadn’t been for Ron and Harry, so rather than scoffing at his long time foe’s comment, the platinum blonde simply nodded in agreement. For being as young as they were when the War was happening and everything, it wasn’t something any of them could take lightly.

At the redhead’s next question, Draco shrugged he wasn’t used to people talking to him, or asking after him, really. Usually just that they assumed he was working for someone evil and plotting the next demise of the wizarding world. But in some way it was nice to see that someone, even if it was Weasley, could think outside of that box “I’ve been working at Grimli’s...dunno if you’re familiar with it.” Another shrug “But it helps bring in some money to help me let my flat. I don’t live at the Manor anymore, only Father does. I personally can’t stand to think about what happened there...” Now he was getting too personal.

Stopping himself short the ex death eater ended rather lamely “We’re mostly just trying to move on. Though I suppose it’s mostly just me, really.” He waited for the snide comments that he was sure to follow, but whatever they were, Draco felt he deserved a few from Weasley, they after all, had been in the thick of things. Unsure of what else to say to his nemesis turned civil acquaintance Draco lamely finished with “How about you, and you’re family? Hows..er...George holding up?” He knew they had lost a son, and a brother, and that he mostly had no business asking about the latter, but the man was genuinely curious to hear if everyone was doing alright.

Family was what had driven most of his own actions throughout the war, more than anything else, and he couldn’t imagine what it had to be like to lose someone he loved. Aunt Bella wasn’t among someone he counted as a missed loved one. Once he’d been old enough it hadn’t taken the ex-Slytherin long to realize that the woman was completely and totally off of her rocker. He knew that people tended to clump all death eaters together, same with the Malfoy’s but Draco shuddered to think of ever finding most anything that had gone on under Voldemort as right, or even fun.