After the previous day's disastrous reunion with his mother, Draco was feeling a lot like a dirty rag in the gutter. However, there was nothing like meddling (well, not technically meddling since he had permission from Meg) in other people's lives to provide a way to ignore the shit storm in your own. That was what Draco believed and so he was
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Out of the corner of my eye I see a familiar blond head. In the middle of all the chaos is Draco, and it looks like he's working on something. If I can catch his eye I'll give him a wave. He might do better research in the quiet of the library.
Tagging because I saw the thread with John-boy.
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It does not matter how strong they are, we worry for them.
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"Listen to us talk, like old men. We are not, neither of us."
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"I feel old. More so every day," he said.
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"Oh." Then I nod slowly. "I think I understand. My father is here."
I'm thinking that he and Draco have not met.
"But of course you knew he was, since he's having me teach swordfighting." Little wonder that he says I'm foolish, because I truly can be at times.
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"Let us hope we are nothing like our parents in our sons' eyes," Draco said.
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Looking about, I note the crowd has not particularly abated.
"I suppose I should let you get on with your research, for lack of a better term. You certainly know how to get hold of me if you need to." I admit I am very curious about the young lady, but she might not be interested in meeting me. However it goes I must abide.
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