It had been ten years since Draco Malfoy left Hogwarts. Ten years since he had seen anyone connected with the wizarding world at all. Labelling himself as an outcast and travelling the world as a caretaker on various airlines, he deprived himself of the luxuries he had become accustomed to in his youth. Yet here he was, in the heart of London, England, awaiting his coffee.
Abruptly, Draco stood up, now accustomed to the daily life of a vagabond like himself. Mind, not every vagabond had money. Or a price on their head. Sighing a 'thank you' to the coffee girl, Draco slipped through the crowded café and out into the wet, gloomy street. It was days like these that he had taken to taking strange girls out for a meal. Or two. And a night on the town. And every time he dropped them off at their own flat, refusing to 'go on up', he was reminded of that brief time as a teenager where he had a solid, steady rock of a girlfriend. And after a couple too many shots of hard liquor, he decided that he was better off without her and her solidness. She did need to maybe lose a few pounds.
The guilt. It wracked him now as he stood with his back to the wind outside the ever-familiar train station. Kings Cross. He knew she was waiting for him inside. Inside the platform. And, for what might have been the second or third time in his life he admitted, he was scared. Not scared of facing his past, but of facing her. His life.
Taking a deep breath, he joined the throng of people pushing into the station, and leaving them behind for the first time in a decade, he joined the other world. His first world.
At first glance there was only a large, blonde woman sitting on the solitary bench, murmuring to herself. With a sick plunging of his heart, Draco wished for the woman to be anybody but her.
As he turned around his heart rose with the familiar tears of hope and loss. She was standing against a pillar, her dark hair chopped short and her jeans a little looser than he had remembered her preferring them. But she didn't look any different from when he had last seen her.
No words were spoken as they embraced again, and Draco vaguely noticed how she held herself more confidently.
"I missed you."
Pansy pulled back and cupped Draco's face in her hands. "I missed you, too. I wish you hadn't have left me."
"I wish I hadn't either," he whispered, choking on his tears as he said, "but they wanted my head."
Pansy only nodded, brushing away a tear of his as her own tired eyes filled up with tears.
"How long are you here for?" she asked quietly.
Draco cast his gaze downwards. "Not long."
"Then we had better make the most of it."
He looked up at her, awestruck at how much she had changed. "How about a picnic?" he asked hesitantly.
Pansy beamed. "At your flat or mine?"
"I have the food," he said slyly, taking her hand and pulling her back out into the muggle world. He didn't know how long he was going to stay this time, but he was holding his love's hand, and that was all he cared about.
They spent the rest of the day and night in his flat eating hors d'oeuvres and catching up on the lost time in each other's lives. What neither noticed was that while the time apart had brought themselves out of love with each other, each passing second together glued their love back together stronger than it had been. Before long, midnight was upon them and Pansy was anxious about going home.
"Stay the night."
Pansy looked at him. Draco had his hands open, face up.
"I'll sleep on the couch," he offered.
"I have to –"
She turned away. She had to. There was no way she could face the disappointment in his voice, his face, his everything. That was what she fell back in love with. His everything. And as she heard him move away back into the kitchen, she knew she couldn't leave now. She might never be able to leave.
"You have a feather pillow, right?"
Draco smiled at her from the stove. "I always have," he breathed, moving to stand in front of her once more.
"Good. I'll need it tonight," she breathed, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him.