Unknown || Drarry

Chapter 2

Draco sat on the ground until the gravel digging into him hurt too much to ignore. He stumbled to his feet, legs half numbed and eventually mustered the strength to go back to Diagon Alley. It was quieter at midday with only a few people left on the street. Draco ignored his empty stomach and headed straight to the bookshop.

It took what felt like an hour to find a copy of Bellund's Peerage. The book listed all the old magic families and bloodlines of Europe. The Malfoys took up several pages, they had families all over France, but only one in England, one that listed his grandparents and parents, but not him. After Narcissa (née Black) and Lucius Malfoy was nothing.

Draco went to the history books next. There had been quite a few books written about the war, but Rita Skeeter's had been the worst of them. He flipped through the pages, looking for the numerous mentions of him but finding them missing. Hogwarts had been breached by death eaters, Dumbledore had still died, nothing had changed. He was there, just erased. It was as if an obliviate had been cast over the entire world, but it had only removed him.

Draco shook his head, he wasn't going to panic. Oblivates could be reversed, no matter what sort of book he had cast the spell from. He had a few galleons on him, and he always carried the key to his small personal vault. He didn't know if the goblins would let him into his vault with no way to identify himself, but he had to try.

He went to Gringott's and gave them his small silver key. The vault was registered to no one but Draco managed to convince them that was their error, not his and that he had just moved to the city. 

The vault was disappointing. It only held about three hundred galleons and a dusty trunk filled with some of his old school books and supplies.

Draco took enough money to get something to eat, though he barely remembered eating it. He spent hours asking around for places to rent, but space was precious. What few flats were available cost three or four hundred galleons a month and if he wanted to buy anything else to live off of, Draco couldn't afford even the cheapest one.

He stood in the street, looking up at the buildings around him as the cold dread he had been carrying in his gut began to spread and fill him until Draco felt like he was slowly drowning inside himself. He was alone. It was sixth year all over again, an impossible task with no help, alone. But back then he hadn't been truly alone. Greg and Vince had helped, and his mother had always, always been there. His mother never said it out loud, but the knowledge that they could run, escape to anywhere else if things got too bad, kept him going when things were darkest.

He didn't know what he was going to do. The book lost to him, he couldn't go home to even look for it. And Mother... if he saw her and she didn't know him, it would break him in ways he didn't dare contemplate. She had been all he left in the world, and now he had nothing.

"Hey. Hey, mate? You alright? You want me to, uh, fetch someone for you?"

Draco looked up. It was dark out. He had sunk to his knees on the stone cobbles without realising. Weasley was standing across the street, looking as tall and red-headed as usual, but with a look of concern on his face which was very unusual when it came to Draco.

Weasley appeared to be closing up the Wizard Wheezes shop, charming the pavement signs inside.

Draco looked around, "...I was... no... I'm- I'm fine."

"You say that, but you've been standing there for ages. You got hit by a obliviate or something?"

"Something like that," Draco staggered to his feet, his knees stiff.

"I could side-along you to St Mungo's?" Weasley offered.

Draco shook his head, "No- No. I was looking for a flat or somewhere to rent, but everything is so expensive, and I was... overwhelmed."