Keeping one's word was a fine trait, and judging by Draco's past behavior, he was indeed the sort of wizard who possessed it. Even if the promise hadn't been his to begin with, Draco never acted as if nothing had happened.
More importantly, Narcissa clearly had no intention of letting him off the hook...
"Things may be a little unsettled outside lately, dear, but a promise is a promise. Don't keep the other person waiting."
"..."
"Go on now, it's about time."
Watching his mother wave encouragingly at him with almost girlish enthusiasm, Draco tugged the corner of his mouth in exasperation, convinced she was up to something.
He wanted badly to argue that he hadn't agreed to anything at all.
Because of this, Draco had temporarily set aside his magical training and made up an excuse so Pansy and the others wouldn't come to Malfoy Manor today.
Though he felt no guilt and certainly had no reason to, Draco still instinctively kept this from Pansy.
If there was a reason, it was probably just his intuition...
"Take good care of Astoria. Don't bully her, understood?"
"There's no need for that kind of reminder... Anyway, I'm leaving."
"Wait."
Just as Draco was about to step into the fireplace, Lucius Malfoy, who had been silently observing until now, suddenly spoke. Draco turned, a little surprised.
"Do not go anywhere except Diagon Alley. Especially not Knockturn Alley. Don't think I don't know what you've been buying there."
"...?"
"And don't forget your wand. If you run into those emotionless creatures, don't hesitate. They don't understand mercy."
With that, Lucius raised his newspaper again, covering his face as if he hadn't spoken at all.
Narcissa let out a soft laugh at the scene, then waved gently to Draco.
Understanding, Draco placed a hand over his chest in farewell before stepping fully into the fireplace and vanishing.
Those emotionless creatures...
...
The Leaky Cauldron.
This pub on a London side street was peculiar not because it was small and grimy, clashing with the bustling city around it, but because Muggles couldn't see it at all. To be precise, only wizards could.
Its clientele was always a mixed lot. Compared to the well-known Three Broomsticks, this place was darker, more mysterious.
Draco and Astoria had chosen it as their meeting place, since it was one of the entrances to Diagon Alley...
Thud!
Stepping out of the fireplace, Draco shook the soot from his robes. To be honest, he disliked traveling this way—it always left him looking a little disheveled.
Draco stepped out from the corner without drawing much notice from the patrons—or perhaps it was simply that the kind of wizards who came here preferred to keep their heads down and their curiosity in check.
Keeping your distance—that was the Leaky Cauldron's trademark.
After scanning the room and finding no sign of Astoria, Draco chose an empty table, ordered two glasses of mead, and settled in to sip quietly while he waited.
Aside from flatbread and raw liver, the Leaky Cauldron was best known for its mead...
As he drank, Draco studied the pub's clientele.
A bright-eyed little witch from the countryside, likely here for a day's worth of shopping. Frail-looking wizards heatedly debating the latest article in Transfiguration Today. Cloaked figures hiding their faces. Goblins, drunk and rowdy. A peculiar wizard with a thick balaclava pulled low. And one suspicious character—so odd he looked half-ghoul—ordering a plate of raw liver.
This blend of patrons was typical of the Leaky Cauldron.
It was in a place like this, after all, that Hagrid had once obtained a dragon egg—though that had been a setup. Still, it spoke volumes about the kind of business this pub saw.
Beyond that, the most frequent topic was Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban...
"Sirius Black—supporter of you-know-who."
"Who'd have thought anyone could break out of Azkaban? It's never been done before, right?"
"I just can't see how Black managed it. Nobody gets past those guards—unless they pretended not to see him."
"Don't even bring up Azkaban's guards. Just thinking about them gives me the chills."
"Hahaha, old George is dredging up memories from his Azkaban days again."
No one seemed too concerned with why Black had escaped. What unsettled people was the mention of Azkaban's guards. Faces darkened across the room, and the once lively chatter fell flat at the thought of them...
...
Having never actually encountered those guards himself, Draco couldn't help but feel a growing curiosity about them.
And then he thought he heard another name—Harry Potter. Word was the boy was staying right here at the Leaky Cauldron.
Draco frowned, turning the thought over, when a pleasant fragrance drifted toward him.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Draco."
Astoria stood before him, golden curls framing her face.
Draco froze for a few seconds, because her smile seemed to cast a glow through the dimness of the pub.
Maybe it was the outfit—less formal than the one she'd worn when visiting before—that made her look so much younger and more charming.
But the real difference was her expression. Unlike the polite smile from their first meeting, today Astoria's smile was genuine, filled with anticipation. And that, more than anything, was what left Draco momentarily lost in thought...
...
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