Draco Malfoy Imagines

A Reader Lives A Thousand Lives

Summary: How could you describe your affinity for books? How could you explain what they mean to you? Draco tries to understand; he's tried to understand for years.

Warnings: book talk, lots of fluff, dates, friends to lovers, pining, mutual pining, dialogue heavy

Word count: 2.1k

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How could you describe your affinity for books?

They had been there for you in times where not even your closest friends could offer you the best advice. They were there for you with every shift of your mood; you knew that you could turn to your shelves and somewhere, nestled between paperbacks and hardbacks, there would be the perfect read for your mood.

Put simply, books were your life.

Friends and family would fondly chuckle whenever they saw you, nose deep in whatever book had caught your attention. They knew not to disturb you. Instead, they knew to be there when the inevitable end would fall upon you, dragging you through its cliff-hanger or perfectly wrapped up ending.

Draco Malfoy had known you years, and he had never known you not to have a book in your hands or in your bag. On occasion, he had known you to carry a book in both, wanting something there in case you finished your current read.

He's tried to understand your love of books. He's a reader himself, but he has never understood how you could lose yourself in a fantasy world so quickly. Magic runs through your veins, yet you find it easier to read of fae and vampires instead of the witches and wizards of old.

Draco gave up trying to understand you long ago; deciding simply to admire you from afar. He cherished the friendship with you; adored it even, and if that meant he had to spend his only free weekend from work in a book shop with you, then so be it.

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In Wizarding London there weren't many places that catered to the publications of both muggle and magical authors. Flourish and Blotts was an excellent bookshop, but only housed books by wizards and witches. If one wanted something written by a muggle but did not want to wander into muggle society, they were best off wandering down a cobbled side street in Diagon Alley to Page Turners.

Draco knew the moment that he opened his front door to you this morning, that he was going to wind up walking through the front door of Page Turners. He had just finished his first chart review when his doorbell rang, and your knocking began. He made sure to put the lid on his fountain pen before answering the door to you.

Dark brown shelves line every wall, bordering the shop before giving away to shelves centred in the middle of the room. At first glance, the books seemed chaotic – hardbacks tucked in between smaller paperbacks, but upon closer inspection, it was clear that the books were doubled. For every paperback, there was its hardback equivalent. It looked like it shouldn't make sense, but the further you walked into the shop, the more sense it made.

Every reader is particular. There are those who will only exclusively read paperbacks, preferring how portable they are. But there are those who much prefer hardbacks, wanting nothing more than to admire the foiled covers and sprayed edges that one can only get on special editions. The set-up of the shelves perfectly catered to that.

"Draco," You gasp, trying your best to keep your hands to yourself until you found the books you wanted to take home with you, "Have you ever seen a place so wonderful?"

Draco's eyes don't leave your form as he answers, "I don't know, I've seen some spectacular sights in my time."

You don't respond to the light flirtation, but Draco doesn't miss the smile that crosses your face. You refuse to admit just how he makes your heart race with comments such as that; they fall from his mouth so easily that you often find yourself tied up in your emotions, wondering when on earth your feelings had turned from platonic to romantic.