Fic: Secessionist Chapter 5
Harry Potter Fan Fiction
Chapter Rating: PG
Darkrooms were not exactly dark. Of course when Draco had first read about one and then actually went in, it was not exactly as he had expected. But true to any Malfoy before him he adapted and thrived. Late into the night, long after Miss Brown had gone, he had locked himself in his darkroom and worked away in his usual solitude. Hunched over developing trays and chemicals while hs fingers were busy with negatives and wet prints. However this was not his usual routine. Usually he waited until the end of the week to do all his developing. Or at least until he had most of the shoots done. This time was different. This time he had the strangest urge to develop the film and print the negatives as soon as possible. His interaction with Miss Brown had left an impression on him. Of what, he was not certain. He merely knew that his mind would not let her out of his head. In hopes of remedying this he reasoned that if he took care of her film then at least his mind could rest a little. All through the development and printing his mind was buzzing with memory of her.
The way she had interacted with him seemed so oddly familiar he felt as though he should know her already. But he had never known any muggles or even any Browns before his photographic escapades. It was a rather plain and ugly name now that he thought about it. And it did not suit her at all. It could not have been her hair that made her familiar either. True enough there were not many redheads in the world but more than one had managed to come through his photography studio before now. Admittedly the first time a girl had come in with bright red locks he had assumed the very worst. A Weasley! Muggle loving idiots the lot of them and in his studio! But his assumption had turned out wrong. Wrong four times over with every redheaded girl that had come through the studio. The Weasleys were still idiotic fools but none of them were remotely able (or even clever enough) to find him under a different name anyway. His mind had been soothed until this new girl. No she was certainly not a girl. She was more woman than that. He'd clearly seen that.
Generation upon generation of Malfoy men prided themselves upon their professionalism. It had taken Draco a good deal of concentration to not let his mind wander into the gutter. It was form he was after. The body was just a natural vehicle for it. No matter who it was. Still he remembered vividly the events of the shoot. Although, the precise moment it had turned was a bit muddled. Perhaps that meant it had been more of a building up than a sudden realization.
Draco shook his head and checked the clock on the wall. Nearly two o'clock in the morning. Where had the time gone? As he looked upon the numerous drying or dry prints he knew exactly where it had gone. His hand reached up to a particular photo and pulled it down. It was the only one he took with him when he left to go home. In this instance home was a rented flat a block or so away. It was not the Malfoy town house but then again this was his second life and living it with Malfoy money was not exactly something that appealed to Draco. This was a section of his life he wanted away from his parents. There was no doubt in Draco's mind that Lucius would have seen an extra expense every month. Draco did not like answering his father's questions.
Only once he was in his flat and sure to be utterly alone did he slump into his sofa and take out the picture he had brought from from the studio's darkroom. The masked Miss Brown was by the window. Dark folds of the curtains hung behind her, muting all the light save for a slivered stream illuminating her visible features. Her skin looked smooth and her hair soft but it was not these features that drew him. These things paled to the draw of her expression. He remembered looking at her as she looked at him with this face. This mixed expression that had appeared so sure only to be tainted with some kind of confusion. As if the thing she knew, had known, had been so certain of, was not at all what she knew. Like she'd turned some corner and come to a completely unfamiliar place with no way to return again even if she turned around. Her dark eyes held the conflict of what to do with this turn. Focused and feeling and...utterly beautiful.
He remembered snapping the shot and how it had broken the spell of conflict and then their session was ended. He would not see her again. That was personal rule. A rule he had strictly enforced no matter how many letters or calls he had received through Milton to do otherwise.
Draco rose himself up off his sofa, picture still in hand, and headed to his bed. There was more work to be done tomorrow. Another day another model for this week. This was how it usually was when he had a new idea and a dead line for a show. He left the picture face down on his night table as he readied himself for bed. Knowing in the back of his mind that if he was to look at it again he would loose more time. He also knew now was the time he needed to be get some sleep.
The picture remained untouched for the rest of the week. Until all his models had been photographed and his mind could afford to be a bit more muddled. He had analyzed the picture of Mary Brown and found the memory of her was no less vivid than the photograph he held. After a weekend of debating with himself between intervals of working he knew he had to break his own rule. He was going to see Mary again.