Alpha and Omega

He had been running for so long, it seemed-for years- but, in actuality, it was nearly a year since he had left the gates of Hogwarts which clanged shut with a morbid doom when Snape flung a spell at them. His former Potions professor apparated him to a desolate countryside and told him to wait there. He never came back.

He clenched his fingers, painfully, feeling the knobbed ring which he wore on his right ring finger. He had sent a message warning his parents through use of the ring, but he couldn't be certain if his father ever received it. He couldn't be sure whether the Dark Lord ordered his parents dead. And if they did die, he had nothing- a fact made more real and more painful each day.

He paused by the grimy mirror in the gloomy room. His face was clean, but there were lines of exhaustion that streaked his face, making him look ten years older. His blond hair splayed finely over his head, its strands slipping over the others as he moved his head. Cocking his head, he played with the idea of dying his hair. Brown? No, too plain. Black? God forbid. I'm not turning into Potter.

He sighed, and pulled on his dragon-hide jacket and double-checked the room's protective charms before he left his lodgings. As he left the apartment, he glanced over his shoulder at the decripit building. He had been staying there for the past three weeks, paying for his rent by taking money from the Muggle bank account that his mother had set up in anticipation of an event like this.

Coming out of the alleyway, he pressed forward in the sunlight, which burned painfully into the backs of his eyes. He paused, blinking furiously, and discreetly followed a group of teenagers into a nearby pastry shop. The two girls in the group were laughing- teasing- one of the boys in the bunch.

"You're so stupid, honestly," the shorter girl said. "We're supposed to cross the street when the light turns green, not when it turns red. I don't want to go picking up your remains."

The boy glared at the girl. "Well, you've got your wand, right? You're not too thick to use it..."

"Shh, Ron! Don't be so loud!" The other girl hissed at the boy. "There're Muggles!"

Draco's head snapped up alarmingly fast at the mention of the word 'wand'. He sucked in his breath when he realized it was Potter and his Wonder Bunch. He wanted to shout out a retort, but bit back his tongue. Cramming the muffin in his mouth, he hurried after the group, who had now reached the end of the street.

"-can't wait till tonight," Hermione Granger was saying. "Fleur's dress looks amazing. Did you get to see it, Ginny?"

The younger girl nodded agreeably, but Ronald Weasley let out an annoyed "Humph!"

Potter spoke. "Hey, let's go back to the hotel. We might as well start preparing, for, you know, tomorrow." The others nodded. Draco followed them to the Ritz and sat down in one of the couches in the lobby. He glanced around, wondering how in the world they could afford this. The blond shrugged and after a moment's hesistation, he decided order a room for the night to keep track of Potter's whereabouts.

***

During the early evening, he went down the lobby again, this time, in black dress robes. Soon, Potter and friends emerged from the elevator, with, Draco noted, the rest of the Weasley family. They got into one of the Ministry cars, and Draco followed them, with his rented Lamborghini, which the Muggles cast admiring looks at when he cruised by.

They soon arrived at a French restaurant, where the wedding banquet was to take place. The Muggles serving the food looked overwhelmed by the large amounts of people wearing robes, as opposed to suits and tuxedos. He left the car to the valet parking and smoothed his robes before entering the restaurant.

I don't know why I'm here. Thankfully, in his pocket, Draco had copious amounts of Polyjuice Potion to last him the night. He smiled blandly at a passing witch, and sat down in an absentee's seat. Unfortunately, he wasn't close enough to observe Potter or his sidekicks from where he was sitting. Applauding politely to Bill Weasley's and Fleur Delacour's speeches, he looked around the room with narrowed eyes.

Many of the people there were family. Distinguished French families that were once, supposedly, allies of the Malfoys. And Weasley rifraff. However, there were many Ministry officials there, including Cornelius Fudge, but not Scrimgeour. He forked down food forcedly, while attempting to make polite conversation with the old witch next to him.

"My grandson, you should see him, quite like you, you see-" she was blathering, until he excused himself.

He went outside, gulping down breaths of air. He hadn't realized how much freedom he had for the last year-not needing to attend social events such as these. He took out the potion and swallowed a few gulps before replacing the stopper. Then he conjured up a cigarette and lit up. It was quite a while since he smoked, a nervous habit he picked up from his father- not since- then he shuddered, as past memories of his family washed over him.

"Smoking's not good for you, you know," someone said, to the left. He froze, and slowly turned his head. Ronald Weasley's younger sister, stood there, her hands on the hips of her dark blue dress.