Chapter Text
The day Draco Malfoy moved into the rooms next door to Harry's apartment was a day like any other, but it would turn Harry's world upside down like no other event since Voldemort had brought himself down with his own death curse.
It was a Monday, 1 October 2001. That year, terrorists attacked the World Trade Centre in New York, Wikipedia was founded and Prince William met Kate Middleton at a Scottish university. Douglas Adams had died and bands like Outkast, Linkin Park and Blue spent weeks in the top 10 of the charts. Millions of fans were eagerly awaiting the premiere of the first Lord of the Rings film, and billions of text messages were being sent worldwide via Nokia and Ericcson mobile phones.
Harry was well informed about the Muggle world because he owned a small café in the busy Camden district of London, not far from Camden Market, which was popular with Londoners and tourists alike. The café was in a busy little street called Parkway. It was one of the few places in England where the wizarding and muggle worlds were allowed to mix, a place where squibs, muggles and wizards, bound by love or kinship, could meet without violating the Statute of Secrecy. It was also a refuge for those who needed help processing all the emotions that an encounter with the other culture could bring. Evening talks were held for Muggle parents who didn't know how to deal with their children's accidental magic. Mixed couples talked about their everyday problems, and siblings who had been denied the Chalice of Magical Talent could vent their disappointment without being judged.
Harry's flat was on the first floor on the left, just above the café. After the death of Mrs Pentriss, Harry's next-door neighbour, her flat had been unoccupied for three months. Mrs Pentriss had been a teacher at a public muggle school and had died peacefully at the age of 93. She had no relatives and as the Ministry of Magic, who owned the building, could not find any heirs to claim her things, the flat was to be rented out furnished.
Harry had known that the flat would be occupied again in October. What he hadn't known was that the new tenant was his old nemesis, Draco Malfoy. He found out the day Malfoy moved in.
Harry was tidying up his café and was about to wipe down a table by the window when three people appeared in front of the building and stopped indecisively. They were wearing ill-fitting, unfashionable muggle clothes and moved as if they felt they were being watched. Harry only had to look once to see that they were wizards. One of the three was a small woman. She was pointing to the front door and talking to a burly middle-aged man standing next to her. The older wizard had his fingers wrapped around the arm of a thin, tall man, as if to prevent him from running away, although the younger man showed no intention of moving. He waited impassively for his companions to decide whether or not to enter the house. A long, beige trench coat draped around his slender frame, and the black hood of his sweater protruded far above his head. A few strands of white blond hair peeked out from the sides. He was clutching a brown, almost ridiculously small suitcase and keeping his head down. Harry could not see the man's face, but something about his posture piqued Harry's curiosity.
Before the three of them disappeared through the front door, the blonde man suddenly raised his head and looked through the window into the café. His eyes met Harry's and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The young man was Draco Malfoy, though he showed no sign of recognition as he looked into Harry's eyes. A few heartbeats later, the older wizard pulled Malfoy out of Harry's sight.
Harry sank into the nearest chair. What was Draco Malfoy doing here? He should be in Azkaban. The last time Harry had seen him was at his trial. That had been three years ago and Malfoy had looked just as sickly as he did now, thin and pale, with deep-set eyes and an apathetic expression on his face.
A horrible thought crossed Harry's mind. He got up and ran to the side door of the café that led to the stairwell of the house. He opened it as quietly as he could and listened.
"Here it is," the witch's voice came down to Harry from the first floor.
Harry heard her fumbling with a key. Apparently the lady was not used to opening Muggle locks. After a short while, a familiar squeak indicated that Mrs Pentriss' door had been opened.
"In now!" The older wizard commanded. There was a rustling and some stamping, then the door was closed. Harry sighed and went back to the front of the café. No more than ten minutes later, the witch and the older wizard appeared on the pavement next to the large windows. There was no sign of Malfoy. Harry hurried to intercept the two wizards before they could disappear again.
"Good morning!" He greeted almost breathlessly.
"Good morning... Harry Potter! What are you doing here?" the witch asked, her voice raised in a mixture of surprise and delight.
"I've been shopping." Harry wasn't about to tell just anyone where he lived and worked. "Was that Draco Malfoy you were with?"
The two wizards looked at each other as if they didn't know if this information was confidential. Apparently concluding that it wasn't, they replied, "Yes, Draco Malfoy.
"I thought he was in Azkaban."
"He was - until yesterday. The Ministry released him on parole."
"Didn't he get five years?" Harry had testified for Malfoy at his trial, but that hadn't stopped the Ministry from giving him the maximum sentence for child offenders.
"Yes, five years, but due to his good behaviour his sentence has been reduced. He will live in the Muggle world for the next two years."
"It's cheaper for us than keeping him in Azkaban," the wizard told Harry in a smug voice.
"Does that mean he's moving in here?" Harry waved at his house.
"Yes, but don't worry, he doesn't have a wand and he's only allowed to use magic in emergencies or for his own defence - if he can use wandless magic, that is. He can't harm anyone, and is subject to regular checks by his probation officer. Otherwise, he can move about freely as long as he doesn't enter the wizarding world or leave the country".
"As you know, this building belongs to the Ministry and an apartment has become available. Malfoy gets a monthly allowance. He's pretty lucky, I guess, being a Death Eater and all," the wizard added.
"But..." A sense of impending doom swept through Harry's body. Something dark and dangerous was gathering on the horizon and Harry didn't know how to stop it. He wanted to protest and tell the two wizards to get Malfoy out of his house. Harry had made a nice and peaceful life for himself here. Being so close to Malfoy, living in the flat next to him, could only mean trouble. Harry didn't know how to make the two wizards understand that and he suspected it was pointless to try. He wouldn't be able to change the Ministry's decision.
Harry's relationship with the Minister for Magic was somewhat strained because he had refused to act as a puppet for the new Ministry. Instead of becoming an Auror immediately after the war and appearing as the radiant or tragic hero at galas and memorials, Harry had returned to Hogwarts for his NEWTs and then retired from public life, opening his little café in Muggle London. He didn't want to be a figurehead for wizards who were still prejudiced against Muggles and weren't really trying to change their corrupt ways.
Harry did a lot of good for wizards and muggles, but his desire to bring the two worlds closer together was not well received by the new minister. Melbroke wanted Harry to focus solely on the wizarding world.
There was nothing Harry could do about it, and he didn't care what others thought of him. He had done his duty and was happy with his life. He had kept his old friends and made a few new ones. He had carved out a niche where he could live in peace and with the feeling that he was doing something useful. Now Draco Malfoy was threatening to destroy all that, and Harry didn't know what to do.