Better Halves

As he had done every day this week, Draco drove to the bookstore. Before entering, as usual, he took a quick stop at Starbucks, bought coffee, and sat down with his newspaper, subtly looking around.

He had first seen her here almost a month ago in this café; her presence had filled the dark lighted room, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to her warmth. The first time he had seen her she had been simply reading a book outside at the little patio tables with her mocha-colored hair flying in the wind. Her beauty had enchanted him, and now he had been coming back every day in order to get a chance to see her.

He really did try not to stare at her too long whenever she was in the café, afraid one day she would finally catch him staring. But today, she was sitting at the table across from his.

She must have felt his glance because she looked up. Catching her eyes, he tried a smile, and she smiled widely back. Shyly, Draco turned back to his paper, The Daily Prophet, but the words were blended together and his comprehension was severely lacking. Despite the fact his neck was down, he knew she was staring at him, and Draco tried not to look up. He heard her chair scrape across the wooden floor, and he could hear the flat, ballet-like shoes making his way toward him.

He looked up into her chocolate eyes that were staring back at him curiously.  “Can I see that paper?” she asked in a seemingly tired voice.

Draco was surprised. He wasn’t sure what Muggles saw when they glanced at the Daily Prophet, but he knew he couldn’t let her see it. He quickly replied, “It’s not the New York Times!” He was more than surprised when she began to laugh.

“I know,” she said, still chuckling. A bit quieter, she replied, “It’s the Daily Prophet. I’d recognize that headline anywhere. Don’t worry; I’m not a Muggle.” Surprising him even more, she sat down across from his chair at the table.

Draco could do nothing but pass her the news, still staring in awe at this newfound discovery.

As she caressed her stomach, Ginny couldn’t help but look up at her companion. She didn’t know where her sudden courage and curiosity to talk to him had come from.  She didn’t really even want to read the Daily Prophet. She had her own copy at home, although it did help to know it was a fellow wizard that she had her eye on for the past week.

“What’s your name?” she suddenly asked, while perusing the paper.

Draco looked up, startled at the question. Slightly stuttering, he said the name he had practiced so many times now, “Dr—Damien. Damien Maley. You?”

“Brooklyn Wesley,” Ginny lied smoothly. It surprised even her how easily the name slipped from her lips.

“So you’re a witch?” Damien questioned. ‘Stupid! Quit stating the obvious!’ he thought to himself.

She shot him a smile, setting down the Barnes & Noble shopping bag in her left hand. “Yes. I assume you’re magical as well.” She ran a clinical glance over his face. He was definitely handsome. Realizing she had begun to stare, she turned to her drink.

He sent her a smirk, trying to regain his natural charm, and pointed at her books. “What do you have there?”

She blushed. “Oh, nothing! They’re just some Dr. Seuss books. They’re Muggle books for children. My doctor suggested it for the baby.” She turned redder. She hadn’t meant to reveal that.

“You’re pregnant?” Damien remarked, realizing he had no chance with this woman. His heart did flips at the thought of how cute her child would be and what a wonderful mother she would be, and he couldn’t understand where those thoughts had come from. A feeling of jealousy aroused in himself at the thought of the lucky man. He probably worked all day, like his father had, and didn’t care if his beautiful wife had a baby or not. Looking at her left finger, he saw no sign of a ring.

Had the guy impregnated her and run? Was he that stupid to let go a girl like her? Or was she one of those modern wives? Did she not wear a matrimonial ring?

Brooke couldn’t believe this guy. Was he angry that she was pregnant? He had seemed so great. But Brooke knew, no guy was perfect, and pregnancy scared everyone. Especially those from the insular wizarding world. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were so narrow-minded. Excuse me!” Ginny asided, angrily. She got up to leave with her coffee.

And just like that she was gone. The girl Damien knew he could possibly spend the rest of his life with. The girl he had been watching all month. The girl he knew was a witch, and never actually spoken to until now. Why had she just left? Did she think he minded about her being pregnant?

“Wait!” he called after her as she left through the door adjoining Starbucks to Barnes and Noble. ‘You are so pathetic’ his conscious mind screamed at him as he ran out the door after her, leaving his coffee behind.

He watched a burly man shove his shoulder into Brooklyn, and he watched her fall on her back. The man kept walking, and he watched her bite her lip, perhaps to stop herself from crying or cursing. Her coffee was on the floor, spilled everywhere.

Draco ran over to her. “Hey now, you need some help?” He picked up her bag and held his hand out to her. “Did you get burned from your coffee at all?” he asked, looking at her stomach, hands, and feet to make sure nothing was burned.

“No, no it wasn’t coffee; it was hot chocolate.  No caffeine,” she babbled. “Muggles say it’s awful for the baby. They say…” But whatever Muggles said, Malfoy would not find out.

The store manager quickly walked over to the magazine rack, looking stern with her beady eyes and square-rimmed glasses. “Oh dear, a spill. You are going to pay for those books, Missy. There are no open drinks here.” The women looked at Brooke with such disgust.

Damien stood up. “My name is Mr. Maley.” Brooke watched as the woman’s face completely changed. “I wish for you to leave Ms. Wesley alone, and put any damages on my account.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Maley,” the salesperson said as she left briskly.

“Don’t worry about cleaning up the hot chocolate; someone else will get it,” Damien told her. He was surprised when the girl sent him a glare and picked up the cup anyway. She used the green scarf around her neck to wipe off some of the hot chocolate from the floor even though it was impossible to clean up.

Brooklyn stuck up her nose and couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy. He was acting like some rich prat who owned the world. She hated men like him. He reminded her of someone; his attitude, his sneer, and … his hair? He had seemed so perfect a few moments ago.

“Look I’m sorry about my reaction earlier. Let me help you! Let me buy you another hot chocolate.” He held out his hand again.

She took it this time.