riverviewlogs | Draco's October Catch-All & Memory Share

The scene starts with the young boy of eleven alone. White blond hair slicked back, standing proudly on a little stool. There is the set of a smirk upon his lips, but there is also child-like excitement in his eyes. Despite being an eleven-year-old boy his posture is impeccable, without a slouch. He stands perfectly still for the seamstress attending him, with the tape measure and pins floating about at her command, taking his measurements. A wand within her hand.

Another boy appears with spectacles and messy black hair. Draco looks over, gaining an almost smug demeanor.

"Hullo," he said, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," the boy said.

"My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands," Draco went on. Excited despite his bored tone. "Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first-years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow. Have you got your own broom?" Draco ended his rambling with a question. Unable to stop his excitement from spilling over, having him forget his manners.

"No," the raven-haired boy responded with.

"Play Quidditch at all?" Draco continued his questioning.
"‘No."

"I do – Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?"

"No."

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?" Oblivious of the other boy's discomfort.

"Mmm."

"I say, look at that man!" Draco pointed to the window, outside of which stood a very large bearded man that look rugged and rather wild.

"That’s Hagrid," the boy said after looking as well. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh, I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?"

"He’s the gamekeeper," the boy replied with.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he’s a sort of savage – lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he’s brilliant." The boy's demeanor clearly changes, getting a bit frosty in his reply.

"Do you?" Draco asked, sneering in response to the tone the other boy used. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They’re dead."

"Oh, sorry." Draco didn't know what to say with that and quickly came up with something, the first thing he could think of to say. "But they were our kind, weren’t they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean."

"I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?"

Before the boy could reply Madam Malkin spoke up. "That’s you done, my dear."

The boy jumped down eagerly from his stool. "Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose." And he was gone.

Draco looked after the boy a moment and gave a shrug. Soon he was done himself.

It is a sunny day, that is easy to tell. There is a nice breeze and the scent of flowers is heavy in the air. Tinkling laughter of a toddling child can be heard. A small wite blond-haired toddler in light blue and white clothes lays on bright green grass with his head in an elegant woman's lap. He's pointing fingers up toward the sky. the woman leaning to the side a bit to look up without the umbrella blocking her view.

"Look, mother, a dragon!" the young boy says.

"Oh, look at that, it is. What about that one, Draco. Can you tell me what it is?" She asks in a soft, light tone of voice.

The toddler's face screws up as he stares up at the fluffy clouds very hard. "Unicorn!"

"Yes, that's right." The woman claps her hands. "You're such a smart boy."

Little Draco smiles proudly. Off around a bush a little green being can be seen motioning in the air. Seemingly the cause behind the clouds above forming into magical creatures.

For once, Rey's mind isn't drawing another presence in. No one can see her memories tonight, but fate had other plans. She's taken into someone else's memory...a happy one by the looks of it, but she quickly averts her gaze and tries not to pay attention. It would be so wrong of her to peer at this memory of someone she may or may not know.

She can say though, the child is cute...and it makes her wonder if her own parents would've done the same with her. Cloud watching, or simply stayed. But, she quickly turned away and tried to focus on something else.

As Rey turns around she will see Draco standing there in his drawstring bottoms with mussed hair, as if he had been woken from sleep. His gray eyes scan her a moment, recognizing her briefly, then moving on to the scene behind her.

"I had... forgotten this." He said, looking at the mother and son with a vague hungry look about him. As if eating up the sight. In his chest an ache blossomed. It seemed like it had been so long since his mother had given him such easy affection... and really, it had been. Draco... missed her.

His eyes then returned to Rey. "You will speak of this to no one."

Well, this was a side of Draco she was expecting to see. A man in his pajamas, but he wasn't indecent. He looked like he was just waking up, nothing she could fault him for. His reaction...it was telling. The memory was valuable to him, and she wouldn't dare breathe a word of it.

"I won't. It's not my memory to tell. I tried to look away as fast as I could." Because it had been done to her, to have someone look at her memories and then watch the events unfold. She didn't want to do that to Draco.

"I don't know how to make this end, but I never wanted to see that. It's...infuriating that this has been happening."

"In the grand scheme of memories you could have witnessed... this is tame." Draco then wandered to the side a bit where the elf was waving his hands in the air, doing magic. "As a child, I had thought this elf ridiculous... I didn't know he was the reason for the shapes." Draco said as if musing to himself.

"I'm not sure either," he then suddenly said, glancing back toward Rey. "It is infuriating, but it is, well, what it is. I will likely not be so understanding in the morning, though. I would avoid me for a few days." He waved his hand a bit as he gave the warning. He was, well, distracted. Viewing his own memory was vastly different than viewing the memory of another.

"Doesn't matter, a memory is a memory. It's something for you to share, not for me to walk into." She followed him with her eyes over to where the 'elf' was creating the shapes of the creatures in the cloud. It was magic that he was performing, something simple to please a child.

"Was he a friend?" she asked, thinking the creature held some significance to Draco. Or maybe she was over stepping her bounds by asking.

"I wouldn't bother to contact you unless something happens. After having people walk in on my memories...I'd want to avoid them for a few days too." A chance for both of to calm down and not take out their frustrations out on one another.

Draco made a noncommittal noise. It really mattered little to him in the grand scheme of things. Or so he kept saying to himself. Still, he didn't want this spoken of casually. It was a very personal thing, and Draco was a private person.

"The elf? No. House Elves are servants bound by their very nature and magic into servitude to Wizards. They served magical families loyally, and we provided for them." Which, to Draco, was the truth. He was no progressive like Hermione Granger.

He then turned and surveyed Rey once more. Studying her for a moment. "You are far too noble for your own good."

Both of them were private people, and Rey only opened up to those she could trust. Having people see her memories like this was a great invasion of privacy.

"Elf?" Rey repeated, making sure she heard him right. She hadn't heard of an elf before, so were they a type of alien? She listened and was surprised to learn this gentleman knew of magic too. Who didn't have access to it?

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. "So, are you saying you'd want me to bother you in the next few days?" Noble? Her? Possibly, but she didn't think in those terms. She was trying to be kind.

"Yes. A House Elf. Magical creatures of a mostly sentient nature who live to serve magical families. Intensely loyal to their families, mostly. They fall into bad ways when released to service and simply do not do well on their own." He gave a shrug of his shoulders. House Elves were not creatures Draco had spared much thought over. They simply were.

Draco then lets out a short laugh. "Merlin, no. I daresay you wouldn't wish to either. Your sort and I do not mix well together." He then grinned at her a bit - influence, perhaps, from the light and fluffy scene they were in. "I would hate to corrupt you from your good senses and nobility."

There was a nod of her head, trying to understand but at least acknowledging his words. So they were beings who lived to serve magical people. It seemed like Riverview had a lot of people who could wield magic, and she was going to assume, because of the memory, that Draco was one of them.

Rey gave him a pointed stare. Was he trying to tease her or was he being serious?

"My 'sort'?" Oh, because of her status as a scavenger? Yes, it was what she was, but it wasn't an insult though it felt as such. Then again, maybe she was looking to into it, considering she never told him what her old profession was. At least, she didn't recall telling him.

"You make it sound like that's even possible. Trying to 'sway' me, would just result in both of us being annoyed with one another. Besides, you don't seem too bad."

This scene is not light nor happy. The bathroom seen is dark and dank. The figure that stumbles into it isn't happy. Instead, he looks haunted and weary. Worn down by an invisible weight. His emotions are a jumbled mess of fear, desperation, and anxiety. A thick cloud of depression forming about him as he grips his arm in the seclusion of the bathroom.

Draco grips his forearms so tightly his knuckles turn white. His teeth gritting as he moves to the sink. Releasing his arm only to brace his hands on the edges of the sink. Leaning forward as his breathing starts to come a little raggedly. His eyes closing. Clutching the sink like a lifeline as his emotions swell within like a wave about to capsize a sailboat.

Edited 2017-10-16 02:09 (UTC)

After talking to the pessimistic Nico for a bit Draco set up to meet and talk about this potion Nico wanted to be done. That it took a bit to have it happen was to be blamed upon lack of time setting himself up in a new job and figuring things out. However, eventually, it happened.

Draco was sitting on a bench with a nice view of the water, a cup of hot tea in his hand. A poor substitute for what he was used to, but he had to deal. So he sat there, waiting. Ankle resting on his knee as he waited. Just watching the people milling about.

When he saw the other guy approaching Draco rose up and held out his hand. "Hello, Nico. Hope you don't mind talking out here."

As Nico approached, he was slow to respond. Not out of rudeness, per se. More that he was giving this Draco a look over. Nico was skeptical of people by nature, cynical due to being on his own for so long. If Jason Grace was here, he'd scold Nico for being so distrusting, but he wasn't, which meant Nico had come to the meeting with his Stygian Iron sword strapped to his hip.

He looked young, dressed in torn, black skinny jeans, a black shirt with a skeleton design on it, and a dark aviator jacket. His hair was a shaggy black mess of Grecian curls and his eyes were black as oil slicks. Looking around 17, the truth was that Nico was much older, having been born in the 30s. But whether that was something Draco could pick up on, Nico didn't know. What he did know was that he could sense death on Draco, slight and faded as if it had been years since Draco had come in contact with it, but it was still strong enough for Nico to sense it. And it was enough to make his eyes narrow at Draco a bit.

Finally, he took the offered hand and shook it. Careful examination of his hand would reveal a silver skull ring that sat on Nico's forefinger. One that he twisted unconsciously when the handshake ended.

"It's fine; I don't care where it happens. Most people wouldn't know what we're talking about anyway," he said, lifting and dropping his shoulders in a shrug.

In Draco's world one did not linger at a particular apparent age for long, unless they are a vampire. Given the sunlight Draco had no way to assume Nico was anything but a teen. Nor did he know the death that had once surrounded him still lingered, which was likely a good thing. That was a time Draco never wanted to revisit.

The hand was shaken and the teen assessed, Draco moved back to the bench and motioned for Nico to join him. It was a good location, and he enjoyed the view. "True, and... there is a lack of secrecy here unlike my own world of origin. Regardless, first I would like you to tell me as much information as you can. What are you Unicorns like? Their behaviors and magical properties within your world? I assume the unicorn horn you have is from your world, of course. Also, tell me about the magic in your world and what you knew of the brewing process." Draco needed to see what, if any, similarities there were.

"Things are kept pretty hush-hush where I'm from too," Nico replied, settling down on the bench next to Draco. The older man was taller and with the way Nico tended to slouch in his bomber jacket, it just made him look shorter still in comparison. But he didn't let it get to him because there was no use fussing over the fact that he was 87 and still growing. Instead, he focused on the issue at hand, and that was apparently comparing his world to that of Draco's.

It was always strange meeting someone with magic who wasn't a demigod. Nico knew it was possible, that there were regular mortals who could see through the Mist that separated the realm of gods and magic and what most normal people might see. But they were always few and far between. Draco, apparently, had come from a similar world where magic was sequestered and Nico was curious about the reasons why.

"Basically, most humans don't have magic. We call them mortals. Neither god nor demigod, though a rare few can use magic or see what we call the Mist. The Mist is a kind of veil that settles between mortals and us demigods, making mortals think they're seeing something mundane whenever we demigods use our powers or magical weapons."

At this point, Nico paused to unsheathe the black sword that was hanging at his side. It was pitch dark and cold to the touch, emanating an aura of fear and death.

"I don't know how much you might know about Greek Myths, like Hercules or Zeus, but where I come from, they're all true. And the gods are still around, usually having children with mortals to produce demigods like me. My father is Hades, God of the Underworld, God of Death. And the powers I have, raising the dead as well as manipulating ghosts and a few other things... they all come from him. Following me, so far?"

Draco was starting to get a hang out of piecing together information. Or, rather, making sense of the information given to him. He still ran across words and concepts alien to him, but he tried. If there was one thing Draco detested it was coming across as an idiot. He disliked not knowing things. It used to make him act out, but he liked to think he was now largely passed that.

So, try to follow he did. It wasn't all the hard. Obviously, there were no such things as a demigod, but the concept of such was hardly alien to him. He also was very aware of Greek Mythology. He was an intelligent wizard, after all. It was ludicrous to think he would not know. At first, Draco thought that this boy was going to be among the few mortals of his world that could see through this... Mist. When Nico stood and declared himself a demigod? The son of Hades?

Draco sat, and stared. His eyes went from the eerie sword that reminded Draco of things best left forgotten, then to the one holding it. Young, teen in looks. Yes, he saw the Grecian structures to his face.

"I... am going to need some time to properly digest that information. until then... please continue." Draco motioned for Nico to retake his seat. "Please sheath the sword? There will not be a use for it right now."

"That's pretty usual for people, I've noticed. Even among among other demigods, being a child of Hades is rare," Nico replied with a nod. The sword was sheathed and he settled himself cross-legged on the ground before Draco. The grass withered and died a little, but that was typical of being around Nico. He placed his hands on his knees and gave Draco a few seconds before he continued.

"Now, because demigods are half god, we tend to face a lot more battles than regular mortals. Monsters are drawn to us by our magic and they like to eat us. As a result, a demigod always has to be prepared with Ambrosia and Nectar. Food and drink of the gods. I'm almost out of my supply that I brought with me, which is why I brought up unicorns."

As he spoke, his hands moved, gesturing broadly as was typical of someone from Italian heritage, which happened to compose Nico's non-godly half. His mother had been the daughter of an Italian diplomat, but that was something Draco wouldn't know, and something that didn't matter at the moment.

"Unicorns exist in my world, but are usually never seen by mortals, thus the myth. However, at Camp Jupiter, one of the refuges where demigods and children of demigods can go and learn how to handle their powers while being safe from mortals and monsters... They have a herd that are protected. Occasionally, they'll take shavings from the unicorns' horns to make a potion for healing. But I don't know how to make it because it's more a Healer thing and... Well, I'm not much of a healer. Make sense?"

Pretty unusual? Demigods did not exist in his world. Sure, some powerful people wished they were and pretended, but to actually be one? It just didn't happen. It was unheard of. It was the ease in which this bot spoke of these things which gave Draco some pause. Not to mention Hades, God of the Underworld. Of the Dead.

Too close to home.

Draco focused on the other things, though. On the things that he could understand. Magic and magical beings.
Potions. "No, I don't suppose the son of Death would be good at healing. Did you learn anything? Such as the magical properties of different ingredients, like shavings from a unicorn horn? I cannot simply operate under the assumption that the ingredients from a Unicorn of your world would react the same as from mine. I also doubt you have the stores to allow me the chance at researching said properties."

As Draco began listing off questions, important things he needed to know, Nico realized that this would definitely not be as easy as he'd expected it to be. He'd been foolish to think that magic was universal, but apparently that wouldn't be the case with what Draco knew. He sighed, twisting the silver skull ring on his forefinger and then frowned.

"I was an ambassador to that camp, so I had more of an administrative role and didn't spend time with other people outside doing my job, so... no. I wish I had now, or at least been able to bring some stuff with me so maybe someone could replicate it. But it looks like I'm Styx out of luck."

Draco sighed and pursed his lips. Crossing his legs again he sat back and became lost in thought. "I imagine that there are many similarities between worlds, depending. However, I was taught a healthy dose of respect for the magical arts. My teacher was, well, a perfectionist. One for a very good reason. You do not become the youngest ever Potion Master by being sloppy." Draco said by way of explaining why he was worried about properties.

"What about the general characteristics of your Unicorns? How they look, how they act... things of that nature. Any insight may very well help." Draco could just make the potion to the best of his ability, however ever since Severus had died the man was there in spirit every time, whispering in his mind when he went to do any potion at all. He couldn't ignore all the tiny little details that could make or break a potion. Not realizing just how neurotic it made him.

A perfectionist teacher... when it came to something like magic, Nico could understand easily why caution and perfection would be needed. It was so easy for magic to go awry and Nico knew that from firsthand experience. So he didn't blame Draco for wanting as much information as possible because there was no knowing if it was even possible to make what Nico needed and safely, at that.

Not responding right away, Nico chewed his lower lip as he considered his answer. In truth, he hadn't spent a lot of time around the unicorns; they didn't like him much given his tie to death. But his half-sister had been familiar with them, often working with them, which came easily for her given her propensity towards horses. With this in mind, Nico looks up at Draco. "Usually only the pure of heart can get near them. Their horns and hooves are made of precious metals, and, well... They didn't seem to like me much."

"Purity and wariness of Death makes sense," Draco said, motioning to the wilted grass around Nico. But then leaned back and crossed an arm over his chest to use to rest the elbow of the other as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Precious metals in horn and hoof... That was different from the Unicorns of his own world.

"The rest though... is different from what I know. I am guessing there is no one else here from your world. Well, then. Provide me with a sample and I will go to the magical research facility. See if there is something they can help with. Unless you wish to do that yourself. That may be best, actually. I will accompany you, of course, but you should be there, in case there are other questions for you." If only Severus was here... If only Severus was still alive.

It had become something of a thing Draco had started. Going out into the public and walking around. Traversing the city and not only familiarizing himself with the area but becoming seen. Becoming known. Perhaps with the multitude of people milling about, coming and going, he wasn't necessarily known. But he would be seen at some point.

There was no particular need for him to purchase anything at this point. Yet here he was in the area with the most shops with their wares on display. His pace was leisurely, in no great hurry. Just taking in the day, the atmosphere, the people around him and the displays in the windows. Some changes were made, some remained the same. He had a nostalgic moment remembering walking down Diagon Alley, before the height of the War.

He paused at a window where a teen girl with black hair lingered. He glanced into the window to see what was displayed there. Not anything he had a particular interest in, but regardless... Good economy was key in the happiness of the society and culture of the city.

"I see they changed the display," he said in an off-handed comment. "Their good are of an excellent quality." He looked toward the girl as he said that, giving her a brief friendly smile.

As it so happens, she was looking at one of the ensembles that had been making use of a hat she had made recently.

Hearing someone addressing her, Marinette glanced over at the other and smiled back, just as friendly, "Yeah, I've been checking out some of their stuff lately. Some of it's a little expensive, but that's kind of what you expect with material like the sort they use."

She doesn't mention anything about having mad the hat though. She's no braggart. She does offer a hand though, "I'm Marinette."

Draco gave a nod. The usual retort was right there. To talk down on the girl like she was a moron. It never left his lips,
though. It stayed within. He was quiet a moment longer before he actually spoke. The normal retort gone, and in its place logic.

"Expense is more than just the price tag you are seeing." He said before turning and taking her hand, giving her a more proper smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Marinette. I am Draco Malfoy."

He then looked back to the display and motioned with a hand. "One should take many things into consideration when it comes to items. Durability, practicality, quality of the stitching. What is the expected life of the item with proper care? Then compare the same with a lower end piece of clothing. Is the more expensive item worthwhile if you will not need to replace it as often as a lower end item?"

Marinette nodded, already knowing that. "That's what I keep in mind when I make my designs," she agreed, "I wouldn't want customers to be displeased with an end product if I made something shoddy that wouldn't last, or that fell apart because I cut corners or used bad material." But she doesn't overprice her clothing either - if anything she probably could stand to charge a little more for what she made.

Draco's October Catch-All & Memory Share

Memory 01

Memory 02

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Memory 03

Draco & Nico: Potion Talk

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Looking Through The Glass | Draco & Marinette

Re: Looking Through The Glass | Draco & Marinette

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