Chapter 2

                                        

                                              
Published: 2/17/25

Five years later...

Draco Malfoy had adapted to muggle life perfectly fine, thank you very much. His wand was back in his possession. His prison sentence had been reduced to three months, and his two-year parole was served. He now worked at a Muggle bank as a teller. Counting muggle money wasn't hard, after all. His parole had forced him out of his comfort zone, and though he could have found a job in the wizarding world without magic, he didn't want to. He was tired of the insults, threats and hexes.
Muggles might insult him out of frustration or impatience, but it wasn't personal. It wasn't real. It wasn't an attack on him. After work, Draco enjoyed the gay clubs and the anonymity they brought. His friends knew he was in the Muggle world, and gay for that matter, but they never accompanied him out. A visit to his Muggle country home was all they could stomach.
However, Draco had embraced the whole muggle experience: mobile, telly, stove, garlic press and an auto. His home was a good 45 minutes from the bank he works at. Draco enjoyed the ride, appreciating Muggle songs and observing the small town and rural life. He wasn't sad to leave the wizarding world behind in some respects, though he still practiced at home with his wand... the same one Potter had turned over to his parole officer, with a note that said, "Thanks".
Draco had heard that Potter disappeared. His last known appearance was a cabin in the woods that was destroyed, supposedly by the gas line. No body was found. Kidnapping was suspected and Draco was even questioned, but he had been working that day when the explosion occurred. He had no feasible means of magically getting back home. There were no more visits. He remembered feeling so heartbroken when he heard. Potter had been the only good thing in his life. The only one who didn't give up on him.
Draco was driving home at twilight as, on Wednesdays, the bank was open till seven. Draco was doing the speed limit as he knew that there were deer in the area, so he didn't push it, nor did he want to draw the ire of the local bobbies. The country road had corn fields and farms on either side of the road leading to his home. Draco was singing very off-key to Fantasy, when suddenly, a deer darted out of the cornstalks and across the road. Draco braked and braked hard, narrowly missing the deer by inches, but he still heard a thump when he stopped. Perhaps a second deer had jumped out as well?
There were no cars anywhere in sight. Draco cautiously got out, expecting to see a second deer on the ground, as they often traveled in groups. However, as he rounded the front of his VW, he found a hurt tan and black dog that was mournfully whining. Its paw was mangled and bloody, and its shoulder and ribs looked off.
"No!" Draco moaned and knelt down at the whimpering dog's side. "No... No... I'm so sorry, buddy!" He pulled out his wand, glancing cautiously to ensure there were no muggles and cast the only rudimentary healing spells he knew. The open fractures healed, and the paw somewhat right itself, but he couldn't remember how to fix much else. The poor dog was still whining and probably bleeding internally.
"Hang on, boy," he said, as he carefully lifted the dog whose whining had decreased some. "Alohamora!" he said, and the back door opened. Without a care for the blood staining his back seat, he set the poor animal on the seat gently. He ran to the driver's side and flipped open his mobile to dial information. He gave the city and asked for an animal emergency care center.
After a brief pause, he was connected, and the receptionist gave him succinct instructions to the hospital. He did a burnout turn and drove back, practically to work. Thirty minutes later, he squealed to a stop in front of the entrance doors. The receptionist brought a trolley out.
"How is he?" she asked, concerned.
"Broken leg, shoulder, ribs... maybe internal injuries. He followed a deer out into the road, and I couldn't stop in time," Draco said, as he opened the back door.
"It's great that you brought 'im in. But Lad... if it is too much cost, the vet won't save 'im... unless someone pays for it. Is he yours?" the older woman asked with a Scottish accent.
"No, he's not," Draco responded, as he gently extracted the dog from his car and set him on the cart.
"There's no collar. I'll scan for chips," she said, as they started toward the door.
"I'll pay... please save him," Draco pleaded.
She looked at him. "It'll be a lot of pounds," she said, sadly, opening the door to the lobby. 
"I'll cover it all."
"Oh... I also have to explain that we also won't hold him, unless you want to pay for boarding. We don't get too many volunteers to take on ill and injured animals," she explained. "Plus, this breed is very energetic. You really can't keep him in a kennel or loft." 
"I'll t-take him home. I have a decent t-tract," Draco said, stammering from the adrenaline.
"Ok, Lad, I already briefed the vet when you called. Just wait out here, ok?" she said, and headed down the hallway with the cart.
"Y-Yeah," he said, and then went into the loo to wash the blood off his hands.




Yep, I'm doing all dog pictures and memes!