August 2016
"YOU'RE BEING AN ASSHOLE, Y'KNOW?"
"Diana, language!—" Narcissa hisses, furiously looking around Madam Malkin's, "For Merlin's sake, we're in public—"
"Yeah, well thanks to our favourite bald jackass, this shop is empty!!" Diana's tone drips with sarcasm as she dramatically whirls around, "See? Not a soul in sight!"
"How dare you?!" Their mother gasps, her face turning white, then livid, "You — you little — "
"Mum." Draco places a cautious hand on his mother's shoulder, gently pulling her back, "It's alright." He gestures to a pretty rack of shimmering gowns near them, "Why don't you go look through the latest collection? You've always loved La Perle Noire."
"One of these days . . " Narcissa's face twists in anger before she stalks off, leaving him and Diana standing next to a rack of dark green robes.
"What are you doing?!" Draco snaps as soon as his mother's out of earshot, "You've been antagonizing her ever since you got back."
"Oh, I don't know, maybe because the first thing Mother Dearest decided to do was shriek at me about spending the summer at a 'Blood Traitor's' house?" His sister gesticulates with her fingers, rolling her eyes. There's color in her cheeks for the first time in a while, and although he could do without the purple streaks running through her hair, Draco's heart squeezes a little as he looks at her. For once, he's done the right thing.
"You should know better than to provoke her at a time like this." Draco presses, running a frustrated hand through her hair, "Especially at a time like this."
"And what, dear brother, are you doing at a time like this?" Diana fires back.
There's a moment of uncomfortable silence before Draco sighs, "You know I can't tell you that."
"Is that why you tried to sneak out here on your own today?" Diana scoffs, "To keep us all in the dark?"
"The dark is a lot safer than being out here." Draco snaps. He laughs, bitterly, his voice hushed, "Half the shops are closed — the other half's owners have mysteriously vanished on their own. Do you think I want you to suffer the same fate?"
"You act like I don't know how to defend myself." Diana snaps, "Snape taught both of us, you know—"
"I don't give a flying fuck about what he thinks." Draco cuts her off, "What I think you should do is stay out of this mess and shack up with your girlfr—"
"She is not my girlfriend!!" Diana claps a hand over his mouth before he can finish, her cheeks bright red with embarrassment, "Keep your voice down, will you?"
"Who's being a nuisance now?" Draco raises a pointed eyebrow in her direction, gently pushing her hand away.
"Trou du cul!" Diana snaps, and Draco has to resist the urge to snicker at the mortified expression on her face.
Narcissa's shock echoes from the other side of the room, "DIANA!!—"
"If we're talking about girlfriends, " A mischievous gleam lights up his sister's emerald eyes, "Are you still mad that she didn't pick up yesterday?"
Something stings in his chest as Draco groans, "When are you ever going to let that go?"
"You should have seen your face." Diana snickers, impishly grinning up at him, "You looked like a kicked puppy."
"I did not." He rolls his eyes, "Drama queen."
"Says you," Diana scoffs, before Narcissa throws a dark robe into her hands, "What is this?"
"Your uniform." His mother replies, perfunctory. She delicately slips a handsome dark green robe around Draco's suit-covered shoulders, "The tailor just finished. Try it on over your clothes."
"I wanted pink, Mum." Diana rolls her eyes, slipping the black fabric on over her white pullover, "This color is so depressing."
"Pink is something Malfoys have the decency to avoid." Narcissa puffs her chest up with pride, "It washes us out."
"Yeah, well, I'd rather be washed out that wear whatever the fresh hell this is." Diana grumbles, adjusting her sleeves in the mirror; It's then that Draco realizes that they're far too long for her slender frame, "I look like a bloody Dementor."
"You look like a lady. For once." Narcissa rolls her eyes at her daughter before glaring at Draco in a way that makes him shrink back, "And you, young man. Don't think you're off the hook for what happened this morning."
"Come on, Mother. I'm not a child." Draco huffs, adjusting the collar as he looks in the mirror, "In case you haven't noticed, I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone."
"Now, dear, your mother 's quite right." Madam Malkin tuts, waddling around him as she pins the sleeves up, "None of us are supposed to go wandering around on our own any more, it's nothing to do with being a child—''
"Ow!!" Draco snaps, a sharp pain going through his left arm as he flinches away from the older witch, "Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!"
Diana bites back a laugh, and as Madam Malkin sighs, opening her mouth to apologize, he hears the door-chime ring, and sees a familiar figure walk in over his shoulders. A mass of curly hair, a wrinkled nose and an ever-present purring lump in her hands — it's not hard to discern who she is. And as Hermione Granger's face twists in distaste, and the sting in his left arm makes Draco bite back a pained hiss, the straining thread of frustration in him that's been stretching all these weeks snaps, "If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in,"
"Draco—" Diana gasps, her face going white as Narcissa's eyes narrow.
"There's no need for language like that!" Madam Malkin interjects, quickly, "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!" She gives Potter and Weasley a withering look, both of them brandishing the aforementioned objects in their hands.
"It's alright, guys." A familiar figure steps through the door, and as Draco's heart lurches, he locks with a familiar pair of blue eyes smoldering into his; Maya Rajesh's full lips twist into a scoff, "He's not worth it."
"Maya!" Unbeknownst to her mother's sharp glare, Diana slips out of the robe, squealing as she envelops her friend in a bear hug so sudden it almost knocks the warlock to the floor, "Where have you been?"
"Places." Her voice is muffled as she stumbles, a slight lilt at the corner of her mouth as his sister pulls back and the sight of her in person after three months sends a shiver down Draco's spine. She looks good — really good. But the words that come out of her mouth stops the nervous train of thought in his head, "Talk to Hermione like that again, and I'll make sure they're the last words you say."
"Maya—" Diana looks nervously between them as a spark of rage ignites inside Draco.
"Like you would try anything out of school." He scoffs, despite the tiny inkling of apprehension in the back of his head.
"How are you such an ignorant jackass despite being near the top of your class for years?" Maya scoffs, "It's always been a mystery to me — you manage to somehow make everything about yourself."
"Maybe tell your friend here to run back to where she belongs, then?" He cocks his chin at Granger, who utters an indignant scoff that sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
"Higher up than you'll ever be?" She chirps back, equally as scathing, "Because she cares about something other than the blood running through her veins?"
"I don't remember asking for your opinion on this matter." He raises an unconvinced eyebrow.
"I don't remember asking you to be a pompous little fuck, but we all have our regrets, don't we?" The catlike smile on her face drops with malice.
"Let the Mudblood speak for herself, Rajesh." The words slip his mouth as smoothly as butter, but they die in his throat as Maya's eyes visibly darken with rage, "She might die of indignation if you keep talking over her."
"What did I tell you about using that word again?" She hisses, walking up to him. The tip of her wand presses into his neck, and try as he might to hide the fear he feels, Draco can't deny the spark of a thrill that shoots down his spine at the dark way she looks up at him. He can see the tiny flecks of silver in her aquamarine eyes from this angle, the air thick around them and charged with something he can't explain. And as her eyes flit to his mouth, a forbidden thought flits across his mind, and his hand slowly reaches up for her waist.
'That's quite enough!' snaps Madam Malkin sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. The moment breaks, and Draco sees a red flush come over Maya's cheekbones as she shoves him away, stepping back as though she's been burned, 'Madam – please –'
In the style of her ever-perfect timing, Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack her, eyes dark and contemptous as she looks at Harry Potter and his little group, "Put that away," she says, coldly, her eyes glinting with quiet fury as she looks down at Maya, 'If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."
'Really?' Potter interrupts, pushing Maya behind him as he stalks toward her, 'Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?'
Madam Malkin squealed and clutches at her heart as Diana's face grows white with shock. 'Really, you shouldn't accuse – dangerous thing to say – wands away, please!'
Narcissa grabs Draco's arm before he can draw his wand, smiling coldly 'I see that being Dumbledore's favourite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you.'
Potter looks around the room with a mocking expression on his face, "Wow ... look at that ... he's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!'
"Harry!" Diana snaps, stumbling on her robe before Granger catches her.
Draco tries to lunge toward him, Ron Weasley's laugh sending the blood in his veins to a scorching boil. He snarls, "Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!"
"Harry, shut up!" Maya snaps, yanking him back. Her face is visibly tense as she glances at them, eyes resting on Draco for a split second before looking to Diana, "You're crossing a line. Let's go—"
"I'm crossing a line?!" Potter spits, looking livid, "I'm crossing a line?!—" His eyes land on Draco, "Did you even hear—"
"As much as I want to punch him for saying that, it's in our best interest to leave before things get worse." She lets go of him, casting Draco a glare that makes something inside him shrink back, "The prick just wants attention."
'It's all right, Draco,' says Narcissa., restraining him with her thin white fingers upon his shoulder. 'I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius.'
Potter raises his wand as Granger grabs his arm and attempts to push it by his side, Maya dragging him back at the same time, "Harry, no!' Granger pleads grabbing his arm and attempting to push it down by his side. "Think ... you mustn't ... you'll be in such trouble ..."
'I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just—" As the pin accidentally pierces his left arm, Draco feels an agonizing spasm go right through his mark and immediately slaps Madam Malkin's hand away, "Watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother – I don't think I want these any more – " A wave of anxious exhaustion hits him as he hoists the robe over his head, letting the emerald silk fall to Madam Malkin's feet as he brushes the dust off of his suit.
'You're right, Draco,' says Narcissa, with a contemptuous glance at Granger, "Now I know the kind of scum that shops here. We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's.'
"No one wants you here anyway." Draco hears Potter mutter under his breath as Narcissa and him walk away, and it takes everything in him to not go back and pummel the aforementioned Scarhead.
He should've just gone shopping alone.
"Diana?" Narcissa looks back over her shoulder, "Coming?"
"You know what, I've decided that I like my robes." Draco hears his sister's smirk in her voice, eyes fiery as she glares back at her mother, "So I'm going to pay for them and meet you at the Manor tonight. Deal?"
"Oh, for the love of—" Narcissa begins, before the door slams shut in their faces, a hint of a smirk on Maya Rajesh's face before it's completely obscured.
Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?
You SHOULD Be Worrying About
U-NO-POO
The Constipation Sensation That's Gripping the Nation!
"Dear God . . " mutters Clary at the sign from beside her, having just returned from the London Institute, "Wizards certainly have guts"
"Those two do." Maya smiles at Fred and George, who wave to her from the counter of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes with enthusiasm, "They hightailed out of school on a pair of brooms last year to piss off our Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher."
"I like them already." The corner of Clary's mouth turns up as she sighs in distaste, "Alec and Izzy have some details to iron out at the embassy, so they'll only meet us at the hotel tonight."
"Probably for the best." Maya looks warily at the questionable items lining the shop, "I wouldn't put it past them to buy the entire stock of shield cloaks and write it off as a business expense."
"These could be useful, though." Clary points to a jar of glittering navy dust, reading "Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder" as she runs her fingers over the label, "In case we need to make a quick escape."
"Escape from what?" Maya nearly jumps out of her skin as Diana's cheerful voice pipes up from next to her, looking down inquisitively at the both of them.
"Uhhhh— " Clary panics, her words stalling as Maya eventually saves her.
"Snape's wrath." Maya laughs, nervously, "Did you see his face when Ron added boomslang skin instead of viper fangs to the strengthening solution last year?"
"Good idea." Diana mutters, quickly grabbing a jar for herself, "I don't fancy a cauldron being thrown at my head during Potions. Word of advice — don't breathe too loud next to him." She gives Clary a motherly pat on the shoulder, "He can smell fear."
"What —Huh?! —" Clary sputters as Diana walks off to talk to Fred and George. She turns to Maya in a panic, "You never told me that some of your teachers were demons—"
"Relax, she's just messing with you." Maya ruffles Clary's hair, resisting the urge to snicker at the mortified expression on the redhead's face, "Snape's a jackass, but he's just a wizard."
"I thought they'd be like warlocks. " Clary mutters, "Flamboyant, mischievous, immortal. But they're so . . different."
"Wizards are the Walmart version of Warlocks." Maya sighs, "Their magic stems from a core, whereas mine is tied to my demon blood. It's why I don't need a wand to control my magic."
"Interesting." Clary muses, her voice lowering, "You didn't tell Diana the truth, did you?"
"That you're actually Satan's spawn and this study-abroad program is a glorified blanket to cover our tracks?'"Maya mutters under her breath, feigning nonchalance as she grabs a jar of Instant Darkness Powder from the shelf, "Of course I didn't. She would have a heart attack if she knew what we'd been up to this summer."
"She's going to suspect something soon." Clary's eyebrows furrow in worry as she glances at the purple-haired figure, who's animatedly examining a few spindly-looking objects labelled 'Decoy Detonators', "Our backstory has a few plot holes."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Maya replies, airily, clearing her throat as Fred approaches them with an expectant look on his face.
"Good to see you again, Maya." He playfully ruffles her hair as Maya swats his hand away before giving Clary a confused look, "And hello to your friend . . . Cindy . . . Claire . . . Cara, was it?"
"Clarissa, " Clary laughs, softly, extending her hand, "But Clary works too."
"Nice." He shakes her hand good-naturedly, "Another American, huh? Maya'll have some Fahrenheit-using company this year."
"Oh shush." Maya rolls her eyes at him, "No one understands Celsius anyway."
"Everyone except you Yankees uses the metric system." Fred clicks his tongue disapprovingly, "Get with the times, kid."
"I love your shop." Clary pipes up, looking around the multicolored shelves with wonder, "All the items are so interesting. How do you come up with this stuff?"
"If I told you, you wouldn't believe it." Fred gives her a roguish wink before gesturing to an array of violently pink products behind him, "Haven't you girls found our special WonderWitch products yet?' A gaggle of enthusiastic girls crowd around them as Hermione and Ginny linger at the edge of the crowd in skepticism, "Best range of love potions you'll find anywhere."
Ginny raises a suspicious eyebrow, "Do they work?"
"Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question –"
"– and the attractiveness of the girl," snaps George, appearing suddenly at their side. 'But we're not selling them to our sister,' he adds, becoming suddenly stern, "not when she's already got about five boys on the go from what we've –"
"Five?!" Maya sputters, astonished.
"A girl can dream." Clary sighs, her voice airy.
'Whatever you've heard from Ron is a big fat lie,' says Ginny calmly, leaning forwards to take a small pink pot off the shelf. 'What's this?'
"Guaranteed Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher,' explains Fred. 'Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don't change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?"
"Nice." Maya mouths to her, to which Ginny grins.
"Yes, I am," replies Ginny, coolly, "And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?"
She points at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.
"Pygmy Puffs," says George. "Miniature puffskeins, we can't breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?"
"I dumped him, he was a bad loser," says Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. "They're really cute!"
"They're fairly cuddly, yes," concedes Fred. "But you're moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren't you?"
Ginny glares at him, turning around with her hands on her hips, "It's none of your business. And I'll thank you," She snaps at Ron, who has just appeared at George's elbow, laden with merchandise, "not to tell tales about me to these two!"
"That's three Galleons, nine Sickles and a Knut," reads off Fred, examining the many boxes in Ron's arms. "Cough up."
"I'm your brother!" Ron sputters
'And that's our stuff you're nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles." Fred tuts, without sympathy, "I'll knock off the Knut."
"But I haven't got three Galleons, nine Sickles!" Ron whines.
"You'd better put it all back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves." Fred smirks as Ron drops the boxes, the tips of his ears turning an angry red as he flips his middle finger at his brother, making the older Weasley snicker.
However, Ron's face pales quickly as Mrs Weasley glares daggers at him, "If I see you do that again I'll jinx your fingers together," she snaps, sharply.
"Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?" says Ginny at once.
"A what?" questions Mrs Weasley warily.
"Look, they're so sweet ..." The two witches peer down at the cage.
"They seem sweet." Clary mutters to Maya, observing the sight in front of them, "The Weasleys."
"They are." Maya sighs, "Apart from Fred and George being the overprotective older brothers, of course."
"I don't think Alec lacks in that department for you." Clary nudges her, knowingly.
"Oh, please." Maya scoffs, "I'm the last person that needs protection from anyone." Her mind drifts back to the scathing conversation in Madam Malkin's, and a lump forms in the throat, "Or anything."
"Who's on your mind?" Clary looks at her curiously, "You've been spacey ever since we met up here."
"No one." Maya banishes the burning image of Draco Malfoy from behind her eyelids, "I'm just tired."
"Alright then." A hint of a smile graces the corner of her mouth as Diana walks up to them, "Keep your secrets."
"I'm supposed to meet Luna at the Hopping Pot in fifteen." She smiles, radiantly, and Maya feels her heart flutter at how happy she looks, "Want to come with? They have the best coffee in Diagon Alley."
"We'd love to—" Clary starts, eyes lighting up at the prospect of caffeinating herself, but a familiar voice interrupts her.
"Actually, I need Maya for something." Harry gently grabs her arm, squeezing in warning, "Rain check?"
"Is it important?" Maya raises a slightly annoyed eyebrow.
"Yes." Harry's eyes flit to the window for a split second, and to her utter surprise, Maya sees none other than the elder Malfoy disappearing into Knockturn Alley, looking over his shoulder warily before stalking away, "Very."
"Why do I have to be a part of this?" Maya hisses, as the four of them crowd under the Invisibility cloak, trying to conceal their footsteps against the narrow cobblestones of Diagon Alley, "We're not exactly being discreet."
"You're the best duelist out of all of us." Ron hisses under his breath, as a familiar pair of footsteps go ahead of them, "Quick, over here!" They all rapidly press themselves against a nearby wall as Malfoy's footsteps sound down the corner, narrowly avoiding being seen as his tall figure disappears down a winding path.
"I highly doubt this will escalate to that extent." She sighs, bracing herself as her tone drips with sarcasm, "Or, you know, we could've just not followed him in the first place?!"
"Something's not right about Malfoy." Harry whispers, tugging her arm harder as his black hair flops over his forehead, "Quick, or we'll lose him!"
"When has anything ever been right about him?" Maya mutters, under her breath as they speed up.
"Our feet'll be seen!" whispers Hermione anxiously, as the Cloak flaps a little around their ankles.
"It doesn't matter." Ron sighs; His face lights up as he spots a dusty old sign labelled 'Borgin and Burkes', "Look!" He points to a dark window, "He's in there!"
They're able to quickly find a vantage point from a nearby ledge, Maya's heart thudding in fear as the four of them brace themselves against the roof next door. The window lies slightly ajar, allowing them a clear view of the contents below. Shelves full of skulls and dark potion bottles surround Malfoy as he speaks to a man with oily hair, gesturing animatedly as the Malfoy signet of his ring gleams in the faint sunlight, "You know how to fix it?"
"Possibly," The man — or Borgin, as Harry whispers into her ear — licks his lips, hesitating, "I'll need to see it, though. Why don't you bring it into the shop?"
"I can't," Malfoy's tone conveys urgency as his shoulders draw in tension, "It's got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it."
Borgin sighs, defeated, "Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn't guarantee anything."
"No?" Malfoy's tone is dark as he disappears behind a cabinet, obscured temporarily, "Perhaps this will make you more confident."
Borgin's face suddenly changes from one of dim annoyance to one of horror, his pupils drawing wide in fear. Whatever Malfoy's done — Maya realizes with unease dropping into her stomach — it's scared the absolute shit out of him. And it seems to have worked to the blond's advantage, as he continues in a casual tone that makes the hair stand up on the back of Maya's neck, "Tell anyone and there will be retribution. You know Antonin Dolohov?" The smirk in his voice makes a pit form in Maya's chest, "He's a family friend, he'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention."
Borgin sputters, shocked, "There will be no need for—"
"I'll decide that,' says Malfoy. He sighs, stepping back into view and looking around the shop with a satisfied expression on his face, "Well, I'd better be off. And don't forget to keep that one safe, I'll need it."
"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?" Borgin looks at him expectantly.
"No, of course I wouldn't, you stupid little man, how would I look carrying that down the street?" Malfoy scoffs, quietly, "Just don't sell it."
"Of course not ... sir." Borgin bows, and despite her distance, Maya can see the slight tremble that wracks through his hands as he folds them behind his back.
"Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?" Malfoy raises a blond eyebrow expectantly.
"Naturally, naturally" murmurs Borgin, bowing again as Malfoy stalks out of the shop. As Maya's grip relaxes on the ledge, Hermione suddenly lurches forward, having been leaning on her for support this entire time. The shriek she emits is tiny as Ron catches her, barely audible to anyone but the four of them.
But as the cloak flutters, her converse are exposed, and she only manages to yank her feet back into obscurity when Malfoy's head whips around in their direction. Maya holds her breath as he frowns at the ledge, brows twisting in confusion as she bites her lip in concentration. There's a moment in which their eyes directly meet and it feels as though he's gazing directly into her soul with the intensity at which he scans the ledge. Then, a beat passes, and Draco Malfoy stalks back down the alley, none of them daring to breathe until his tall figure is completely out of sight.
'What was that about?' whispers Ron, letting out a shaky breath.
"Dunno," says Harry, "He wants something mended — and he's gone to great lengths to hide whatever it is."
"But what could it be?" Hermione huffs, "That cabinet hid him pretty well."
"It doesn't make sense, " Ron mutters. As they slowly inch down the ledge, taking great care not to trip and fall back down onto the cobblestones, one burning question remains in Maya's mind.
What could Draco Malfoy have done in those few seconds that made Borgin fear for his life?
"Are you trying to piss me off today?"
"It's not even that bad!" Izzy rolls her eyes at Maya.
"Really?!" Maya sputters, holding up the white material to the light of the room, "My underwear has more fabric than this shit."
"Well, unlike your underwear, this set leaves nothing to the imagination, " Izzy ruffles her hair, smirking down at her, "White looks good on you."
"Maybe some things should be left imagined." Maya mutters, warily. In the rush of packing her entire life into a suitcase to return to Hogwarts, she's forgotten a very key element of her wardrobe — swimsuits. The Institute's put them up in the Four Seasons — one of the fanciest hotels in London — for the remainder of their stay. Even breathing here makes Maya feel poor, everything lined in creamy white marble and shimmering gold. However, the rooftop infinity pool is one of the biggest attractions, and it's where Alec and Clary are waiting for them while they sort out Maya's swimsuit dilemma.
"This is the only set I have that fits you." Izzy sighs, as Maya shifts, uncomfortably, the corner of her mouth smirking, "Unless, of course, you want to swim in your bra and panties?"
"Fuck no!" A red flush scalds Maya's cheeks as she resists the urge to sink to the floor in embarrassment, "Where's my tankini when I need it?" Izzy averts her eyes to the wall, and a sneaking suspicion pops into Maya's head as her tone turns stern, "What did you do?"
"Nothing." The Shadowhunter blinks at her all too innocently.
"Izzy—" Maya narrows her eyes in suspicion.
"If I had — hypothetically — done anything." She enunciates, a hint of mischief entwined in her tone, "Your swimsuit would have — hypothetically — " Izzy coughs, nervously, as Maya's expression turns stony, "Ended up in the — uh — airport trash can."
There's a moment of enraged silence in which neither of them speaks, then Maya grumbles, "I am never going to forgive you for this."
"Oh, you'll get over it, " Izzy waves her hand dismissively, "There's a t-shirt in the bag if you want to cover up."
With that, she leaves the stall, and Maya reluctantly slips on the two-piece set — but the word bikini seems to be a more accurate descriptor. It's more forgiving than certain pieces she's seen Isabelle wear, the straps sturdy enough that Maya doesn't feel as though she'll flash someone an unwanted glimpse by moving. And the white certainly does look good on her, making the golden tones in her caramel skin matching the rings holding the top and bottom together. But there's still some hesitation that holds her back, a nagging voice in the back of her head that scrutinizes the way she looks in the mirror with a tone of crippling insecurity.
Maya knows that she should know better. Isabelle and Alec have never made a single disparaging or unwanted comment about her body — with the former being secure enough in herself to never put Maya down and the latter being as straight as a roundabout, and Clary doesn't seem like the type to say anything either. She knows that everyone has their own imperfections, that a perfect body is a eurocentric, impossible standard to achieve unless you're brave enough to go under the knife or photoshop yourself endlessly. These imperfections — in Nandini's words — are what make us unique, because if everyone looked the same, the world would be an incredibly boring place.
But despite this, Maya can't bring herself to not notice the way her thighs look slightly too big compared to her chest. The bandage secured around her neck hides Camille's mark, but the thin scars between her breasts from the pepper-up incident and the stretch marks that grace her hips are displayed all too starkly in the bring lighting of the changing room. She crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than ever. Her eyes flit to the aforementioned bag that Izzy left with her.
Maybe meeting her halfway wouldn't be such a bad idea.
Maya eventually steps out of the room with an oversized t-shirt on. TripAdvisor was right — the shimmering blue waters of the infinity pool truly do look stunning against the twinkling London skyline. The air is balmy for this time of year, a slight summer breeze ruffling her hair as it falls down from her back. Clary waves at her from the other end of the pool, seated on the edge as she adjusts the strap of her blue one-piece. Izzy smiles at her from her floater on top of the water, lying on an rectangular inflatable in a black cutout swimsuit that sets off her dark eyes. And then — ever the adventurous — there's Alec swimming around in snorkeling gear, bobbing up to the surface for a moment to yell a quick 'Hi!' before continuing his momentous exploration of the pool.
Some things never change.
Later, when she's drunk a few sips of Izzy's mango margarita and a warm buzz runs through her veins, Maya swims to the edge of the pool, her dark hair glossy with chlorinated water. The pool is thankfully heated, but it doesn't stop a slight shiver from going down her back as a gust of wind washes over them. Big red buses and black cabs make up the majority of the traffic below, as the tall skyscrapers and opulent restaurants around them paint a diverse picture of the night sky. The stars are faintly visible against the city lights as a chorus of voices sound from below, a man's strong Geordie accent making her chuckle for a bit. For once, she feels relatively at peace, the soft splashes of water behind her a calming sound. Right now, she's where she's supposed to be — school shopping done, bags packed, and surrounded by friends who've stuck by her throughout this entire mess.
Except one of them is missing.
"I miss him." Maya's startled by Alec's voice next to her. He leans against the edge of the pool, face placed on top of his crossed elbows. He clears his throat, softly, "Jace, I mean."
"I know who you meant, Alec." Maya tries to laugh, but the sound is hollow, "All of us do."
"It's weird, not having him here." Izzy swims up to the both of them, sighing as she looks at the city lights. She chuckles, softly, "Remember what we used to call ourselves?"
"The four musketeers." Alec laughs, "Jace gave us so much shit for it — said it was dorky or whatever — but he'd still smile whenever Maya's mom humored us."
"I hope he's okay." Izzy laughs, wiping a tear from her eye. She sniffles, "God, I hope he's alive."
"I wish we could do something." Clary sits up on the poolside chair, shoulders sighing in defeat, "But we have no idea where Valentine's taken him."
"And we can't go looking for him in the US either." Alec scoffs, derisively, "The London Institute would skin us alive if we left the country."
"This is bullshit, isn't it?" Maya scoffs, bitterness creeping into her tone, "Sending us off to another country while they spin an outlandish story to cover this mess up. Always dealing with the symptoms instead of the problems."
"That's the New York Institute for you." Izzy rolls her eyes, "No wonder we didn't make the top 5 in rankings last year."
"The only thing we can do is try to gather information from where we are, " Alec sighs, "Though I doubt breaking into the Institute archives is a discreet way to carry this out."
"Something doesn't sit right with me about leaving the three of you here." Izzy furrow her brows at Maya, "I can't explain it . . . but it's a gut feeling. But it doesn't seem like I have a choice."
"You could visit, y'know?" Clary pipes up, "On holiday break and all."
"I'll try my best." Izzy smiles, softly, but her expression has a hint of uncertainty in it.
"Surprise!" A familiar voice breaks the tense mood around them. Maya whirls around, a grin spreading around her face as she sees Diana set down a white box on a nearby table, "I brought brownies."
"I was wondering when you'd show up." Maya grins, softly, quickly swimming over to the other side of the pool. She slowly climbs up the ladder to the deck, "Spent some quality time with Luna, did you?" While you were out spying on her brother doing creepy shit? Her conscience reminds her, as Maya pushes down the nagging thought.
"Oh, shut up." Diana's cheeks turn pink with embarrassment as she rolls her eyes, her brows furrowing as she looks around the deck, "Where's Jace?"
"Uh — funny question." Clary and Isabelle give each other a panicked look as Maya stammers, grin falling off her face in a second, "Jace . . is currently — "
"He's sick." Alec interjects, painting the most convincing look of disappointment on his face he can, "He got food poisoning right before the flight and had to stay back."
"Alright then . . . " Diana's eyes narrow as the moment passes, then she frowns, "You lot are quite jumpy today."
"It's jet lag." Clary laughs, nervously, "Messing with all of our brains, am I right?"
"Certainly." Maya sighs, picking up the box of brownies. A smile spreads across her face at the warmth into her hands, "You shouldn't have gone to the trouble—"
"I wanted to." Diana rolls her eyes, the corner of her mouth turning up, "Baking's becoming my new hobby."
"Do you mind?" Clary comes up to them as Maya opens the box, breaking off a piece and popping one into her mouth, "Mmm!" She raises her eyebrows in surprise, "These are great."
"That's my cue." Isabelle scampers over to them, eyes bright at the sight of sugar, and her brother follows suit. There's a few minutes in which they munch on brownies and make small talk. Izzy and Clary ask for the recipe, Alec recalls a baking disaster of his own, and Maya reminds him that she was the one who saved the burnt monstrosity him and his sister cooked up. As they laugh at the story, Maya hears the door beep open, and she looks over her shoulder, eyes widening in surprise at the sight in front of her.
"Diana, you forgot these—" Draco Malfoy stops in his tracks as their eyes meet, grey eyes freezing on the spot. He pauses for a moment, mouth half-open as he looks at her, "Rajesh." His tone turns somewhere between astonished and awed, "You're here."
"Who do you think I came here for?" Diana gives him an incredulous look. Her dark green eyes light up in recognition as she spots the hoodie draped over her brother's arm, "I knew I left that somewhere."
"Yeah. In the lobby." Draco rolls his eyes as he throws Diana's hoodie to her, the younger girl catching it in time. He awkwardly clears his throat, "I hate to interrupt, but we have to be home soon. Dinner's in a few hours."
"We can worry about dinner in a few hours, then." Diana rolls her eyes at her brother, holding out the box to him, "There's an extra brownie left."
"Diana—" An exasperated look comes over his face and Maya has to resist the urge to snicker.
"Stay for a bit, won't you?" Diana sighs, "The train won't arrive for another thirty minutes, anyway."
Draco hesitates for a moment, eyeing the four of them, then sighs, reluctantly stepping forward, "If you insist."
"You managed to get your brother to willingly use Mundane transport?" Maya raises her eyebrows as he grabs a brownie from the box, "That's a shocker."
"Nothing a little blackmail can't solve." Diana winks in her direction.
"Don't be so dismissive, Rajesh." He clicks his tongue, and as his eyes cast down her figure before coming back up to her eyes, "Sometimes, you'll find that people can . . . . surprise you."
"People can." Maya scoffs, "You, on the other hand . . . "
"I'm aware of my own superiority, thank you very much." He rolls his eyes at her, and for the first time that day, Maya notices the way the sharp black lines of his suit emphasize the tall, lean lines of his figure.
"I saw." Maya glares directly back at him, "It's not as appealing as you think it is."
Maya hears Alec mutter something to Izzy in a hushed whisper, "What is happening?!"
"Alec, let's go." Clary pipes up, eyeing Maya and Draco with curiosity, "We have the thing, remember?"
"Thing?" Alec's brows furrow in confusion, "What thing?"
"The thing, Alec." Izzy presses, giving him a pointed look, "The important thing?"
"Huh?" He looks utterly bewildered.
"Don't tell me you forgot." Diana gives him a very unconvincing look of shock, "It's so urgent as well—"
"Ah, yes!" Alec presses his lips together, finally catching on, "That thing." He coughs, loudly, hastily stepping back from them, "Well then, we'll leave you two to it. Let's go do the thing."
As soon as the four of them scatter out of the room, Draco narrows his eyes, "Your friends are interesting."
"Really?" Maya's tone drips with sarcasm as she rolls her eyes, "I never would've guessed."
"What's your issue, Rajesh?" He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Oh, please, spare me the pretense." Maya snaps, "You know exactly what the problem is." The silence on his end only makes her anger grow, "Oh so now you shut up." Maya laughs, coldly.
"I don't know what you want me to say." He scoffs.
"Don't you?" She scoffs, "Or are you just all too comfortable with using racial slurs nowadays?"
"What the fuck is that on your neck?" His eyes widen as he catches sight of the bandage, and Maya's heart drops into her stomach as she realizes that she forgot to glamour it.
"Nothing." Maya bats off the question, narrowing her eyes, "Don't change the subject."
"It doesn't look like nothing." Draco mutters, and as his fingertips run over her skin, Maya feels an electric shock go through her and she jerks back, making him flinch with the sudden movement, "Are you hurt?"
"Save your concern for those lesser than you, Malfoy." Maya snaps, her tone utterly scathing, "And quit with the deflection. It's irritating."
"You know what I find irritating, Rajesh?" He quirks up an amused eyebrow as he steps closer to her, and Maya stifles the sharp intake of breath that comes with his proximity, "Your tendency to bullshit when you're cornered."
"Oh, you want to talk about bullshit?" Maya scoffs, looking up at him, "Alright, Mr. Righteous. Why were you so eager to get your mother off your tail at Madam Malkin's?"
Draco's smirk vanishes, "That's none of your concern."
"Isn't it?" Maya bites her lip, "Funny how quickly you change tactics when the tables are turned."
"Quit the games." He rolls his eyes.
"Oh, I'm not playing any games." Maya smiles as sweetly as she can, "I'm just asking you to admit that you fucked up the words that came out of your mouth."
"You've never had a problem with my words before." Draco smirks, "Why the sudden change of heart?"
Maya opens her mouth to answer, but a deep feeling of guilt stops her. She has to admit to the truth in his words — despite her feelings for him, until now, she's been very aware of what's drifted them apart. But these past few months have been exhausting down to her bones, and somehow, Maya's ignored the ugly parts of him in order to cling onto any faint sunlit solace she can grasp in the darkness of Valentine's resurgence. Instead, she glares defiantly up at him, spitting, "I always have. You just haven't listened. Or cared enough to stop."
"I have never claimed to be a decent person, Rajesh." Draco scoffs, and the words send an angry chill down her spine. His argentine eyes latch onto something behind her, blond brows furrowing, "Why on earth do you have a set of Damascus steel knives in your arsenal?"
Fuck. With bated breath, Maya realizes that she completely forgot to re-stash them in her bag, Nandini having insisted that she carry them around at all times in case of a demon altercation. Her brain scrambles to justify, to rationalize, to give somewhat of an explanation of why the fuck she has weapons laid out alongside a copy of The Hunger Games. But then, a nagging thought pops into her head — why does she have to say anything? After the way he's acted today, the last thing Maya owes him is an explanation about her own decisions.
"None of your business." She replies, calmly, which makes him scoff.
"Back to this again, are we?" Draco rolls his eyes, "Was the argument this summer not enough for you?"
"Okay, if you're so keen on interrogating me, then let me do the same." Maya snaps, her voice cold as her eyes narrow. She steps closer to him, the air between them charged and electrifying as he glares down at her, "Why are you wearing a long-sleeved shirt in 70-degree weather? Why were you so eager to get your shopping done alone? And what exactly, pray tell, were you threatening Borgin with at his shop?"
Draco's face slowly changes from one of amusement to one of shock, and with a sudden pang of fear, Maya realizes that she's admitted to following his footsteps after the little jaunt to Fred & George's shop. But just as he opens his mouth to retort, or question her, or maybe kiss her, with the way his eyes keep flitting down to her lips and back — Izzy becomes her saving grace, leaning against the doorframe as she pipes up, "Food's here, Maya."
"What?" The question momentarily catches Maya off guard as she stumbles backward, not having realized how little space there was between her and Draco. She refuses to look back at him, clearing her throat awkwardly as she faces her friend.
"Your avocado uramaki?" A hint of a smirk curls the corner of her mouth as Izzy's eyes flit between the two of them, "Or were you too . . . preoccupied . . . to remember?"
"Not at all." The quickness of her retort surprises even herself, and Maya flicks her wrist, depositing the book and the knives back into the bag, "In fact—" She slings it over her shoulder, glancing to Draco's eyes for a brief moment before the intensity of them becomes too much for her, "I was just leaving."
"Don't let me keep you, then." Draco clears his throat as he steps back, eyes flashing for a moment before they wither of all emotion, "Seems like you have better things to do, anyway."
"Definitely." As she leaves, it takes every fibre of Maya's being to not shove her shoulder into his as hard as she can.
i genuinely hate the writing in this but have exams coming up so this is the best banter i could do. hope reading was fun lmao.
- love,
disha <3