milliways_bar | Entrance Post

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Entrance Post

Pre-Milliways

There was a rather familiar looking wizard stumbling through the door, which then closed quietly behind him, and vanished.
But this one seemed much more tired, paler, and gaunt than in the past.
And it was obvious by his wide-eyed, startled gaze that he'd never seen Milliways before.

"Professor Snape?" he weakly called, obviously out of breath, and looking absolutely terrified.
His wand was out, and he spun around, looking to strike in a second.
His chest was heaving still from exertion. It didn't feel like a portkey, and he knew he hadn't apparated here either.
So what had happened, and where was he?

(ooc: New Draco mun, and this one's from HBP canon so if you knew the previous, sorry this one won't. Also, for this entrance, it's plotlocked to HP pups, and Security as likely required, saysorry. He's just too breaky for new people now. Happy to slowtime as necessary for muns' schedules.)

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Tom is just passing by, no doubt on his way to or from the wedding. He sees the young man, who looks vaguely familiar. He met a young man much like this one his first night at Milliways. He thinks he might have been from the Wizarding world.

He doesn't entirely remember, though, so he simply nods to the lad in passing.

Draco stared at the wizard, not sure to be relieved or worried. Dress robes for some reason, but that wasn't his concern.

"Sir, wait, where am I? This isn't the Three Broomsticks?" His eyes continued taking in the sights of the bar. There were a lot of people and beings here. His wand was still out, and pointing at random.

Tom's wand is in his hand, just in case. The boy seems a bit stressed.

"You're in a safe place. It's called Milliways. You can put your wand down, really. Not away, mind, but just down."

He tries to give him a reassuring smile. At least he hasn't tried to hex him yet - that's always a plus when meeting someone from the Wizarding world.

"Milli-what?" Draco spun around, still not lowering his wand. "Doesn't seem safe to me. Where are the others?"

He angrily demanded, "Tell me!" He pointed his wand at the man, even though it shook badly in his hand.

"Why don't you start by telling me your where and when?"

He speaks calmly and doesn't raise his wand, but his face hardens. He wouldn't really need to at this distance to deflect whatever the boy might cast.

"Milliways is a most unique place - the restaurant and bar at the end of the universe. Your- friends? - might not be here, but you needn't be concerned."

Yet.

Draco stared at him like he was very stupid, and no, he hasn't lowered his wand. It was looking less and less likely that he would cast anything though.

"Are you completely thick? It's June 7, 1996 of course. And I was at Hogwarts of course."

He then asked, even more shocked, "Bar at the end of what? That's impossible! Where am I really?"

"Ah."

Another one from his future. And from the look of things, not one of the Weasleys, at least. Which might be a bad thing, come to think of it, as Tom notices the Slytherin crest on the boy's uniform.

"Come here."

He beckons Draco over to the observation window, where the universe is ending in a glorious display of chaos and then begins the ending all over again.

"The bar at the end of the universe, as you can plainly see. It can come as a shock, finding oneself here, but you get used to it after a while. What are you called?"

Draco followed, eyeing the man distrustfully. Probably some do-gooder type, like Dumbledore, Potty, the Weaseleys, and that know-it-all Mudblood. But thos thoughts fled as he took in the sight of the window. It had to be an illusion, that can't be real. He stared in shock, and his legs almost gave out from under him.

In a very faint, and terrified voice, "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He was too frightened to say anymore, starting to realize how very far away from his world he was.

Tom almost laughs out loud. A Malfoy? Of course. That would explain much of the boy's arrogant demeanor.

However, Tom Riddle has been at Milliways nearly a year-and-a-half now, and he wouldn't laugh in the face of someone as upset as Draco is. Even if he is a Malfoy.

"Ah yes, I know some of your family. Look, Malfoy, you'll be alright here. You'll also likely be able to get back to where you were when you walked in."

He claps him on the shoulder. The boy does look absolutely terrified. Tom doesn't blame him.

"If not, you can stay here - there are rooms upstairs. You might find the change of scenery to be refreshing."

He steps back from Draco and the observation window. This one might need help, but Tom is out of time.

"Look, I must be off, but..." Tom hesitates a moment and then continues. "If you need anything, send an owl to Lord Ostium of the House of Arch. The bar owls know where I live."

With that he turns and makes his way over to the House of Arch painting, through which he disappears.

Draco turned to look at him, wondering why he was wanting to help him. Oh yes, knew of his family. Likely his father.

He barely had time to get the information before the other wizard vanished, "Wait, who are you?" The Lord Ostium didn't ring any bells with him, but obviously a powerful and wealthy wizard by the sound of it. At least, it was reassuring there were some purebloods of class here.

He glanced at the door, where he thought he came in, only to find a wall. Another trick? He snarled in frustation, and went to see about demanding a room. At least he could afford one easily.

Harry had been in the process of leading Ron to the Bar for a celebratory mug of butterbeer when he happens to glance over towards the door...

...and stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide as saucers.

He has his wand out in an instant, and with his free hand is dragging Ron out of sight.

Draco immediately noticed him, and his wand was pointing right at him. He hadn't noticed Ron just yet. He was totally focused on his rival, his enemy.

"Potter," he snarled, making the last name sound as much as a epithet as possible.

"Found the little surprise we left for you?" There was a superior smirk on his face.

"Expelliarmus!"

It depended on how quick Malfoy was, but it was likely he wasn't quick enough to deflect the disarming spell.

Bumbling though he may be, it still wasn't wise to completely ignore the sidekick.

He wasn't quick at all, between focusing on Harry, and the long term strain he had been suffering under for months. And that sprinting race from the school was taking more out of him than he thought.

So the wand flying out of his hand, and clattering to the floor somewhere took him completely by surprise.

It also made him notice Ron.

"Weasley. Of course, protecting your precious Potty as usual." His face was twisted into a sneer now. "Can't always save everyone you know."

Ron's eyes stayed narrowed and he had a much harder look on his face than Draco had probably ever seen there before.

"You'd be surprised...what I can do, Malfoy," he said, and his voice was just a little bit too calm. The usual scowl was on his face, but his cheeks weren't red and he wasn't shouting, he was just calm, wand up, waiting for Harry's lead.

"Accio wand!" Harry commands. He grabs Draco's wand out of the air and hands it to Ron.

"Welcome to Milliways, Malfoy," he says venomously. "Rule one is no violence. If you have a problem with that, the cells are very nice, and they'll be happy to let you think it over in there as long as you want. Rule two is no business. So sorry, you can't take out a contract on me, either. Rule three is no sex in the public areas." And now he smirks. "That one at least you'll have no trouble following."

Draco snarled, but didn't take a step forward, and his eyes kept flickering toward their wands, "You think that's going to stop me, Potter? Can't hide behind Dumbledore's robes anymore. So stuff your rules. And all it means there's no Ministry to stop me either if I'm here. I'm stuck here with you. Think about that when you try to sleep tonight. Your bleeding scar will be the least of your problems then."

"You'll be wishing for the days when the Ministry was most you had to worry about, Malfoy," Ron said in a low and steady voice. "If you think you can get away with anything in this place, we've got some really powerful friends who'll be glad to tell you otherwise."

Harry crosses his arms, breaking from his battle stance. He looks almost casual. "We've got powerful enemies who'll tell you otherwise, just for the sake of keeping the peace in this place." Not that he could name any, but it was theoretically true, based on the lengths to which people would go to protect the one place in all worlds that shouldn't have to be a battlefield. "You'll find things aren't black and white here, Malfoy." Gee, now who did that sound like? "If you think you can come in here and pretend it's as simple as you and me, you're wrong, and you'll find yourself very lost, very quickly. And if you think, after what I've seen, that I'll believe it..."

Harry fixes Draco with a gaze smoldering not with unfiltered hatred, but with a kind of broad compassion.

"...You don't realize all I've seen," he finishes. "Give him his wand back, Ron."

Draco snorted at both of them, "Think I'm scared? I don't see any of these powerful blokes anywhere. They hiding behind the bar then?" He looked around, rather tense, and yes, scared as though he did in fact expect them to jump out from somewhere.

"And I'm not pretending anything! We're at war, remember? You had your chance to pick the winning side, and you didn't." He yelled.

Though something in the back of his mind pointed out that the war and the Dark Lord were now far away. If his Death Eaters or him couldn't find their way here... they couldn't come after him. But what about Mother? Father? He was too lost in his thoughts, and more broken than he ever seemed to the pair for a moment. In fact, he did indeed already look very lost.

Ron looked hesitant, but he inhaled deeply through his nose, and tossed Draco his wand.

"They're here," Ron said, with some authority. It was probably strange for Draco to hear that sort of surety in the redhead's voice. "If you try to cause trouble, they will take you down." A pause, and then he even said, a little more helpfully than he really thought Draco deserved, "Some would do worse than that, Malfoy."

"There's no winning side to any war, Malfoy. No one wins. They only survive. You picked your side, perhaps, but you're expendable. You're bait for the big fishes. They'll stab you in the back without a second thought."

Harry has lowered his wand but he doesn't put it away.

He's not a complete idiot.

"We'll see about that." Draco icily declared, lowering his wand, but not putting it away either.

"We'll see who's expendable." His grey eyes swung toward Ron's before returning eye contact with Harry again.

Ron still held his wand pointed at Malfoy.

He couldn't deny to himself that there was a little shiver of fear that ran through him as the ferrety little git said that.

But he'd promised. He'd promised him: "We're with you, whatever happens," near Dumbledore's grave, and he would keep that promise to Harry no matter what, even if it meant that he, Ron, would wind up in a grave himself.

So when Malfoy's gaze flashed over to his eyes, Ron stared back, thinking, willing Malfoy to understand one Very Important thing:

Yes, he was expendable.

...That meant that if someone tried to take out Harry, Ron would be willing to kill himself to take down whoever it was with him.

In the darkest, sickest, most twisted part of Ron's heart, he hoped that if that happened, that it would be Malfoy.

Ah, but that was the difference between Harry and the Dark Lord:

Ron wasn't expendable in his eyes. No one was. And that included Draco Malfoy. Harry wouldn't admit it aloud. He could barely formulate the idea into words in the silence of his own mind. But when the time came, if ever it did, Harry would lose his life to save Draco as willingly as he would for Ron and Hermione.

That's what made him who he was -- that's what would make him a hero, if time and fate delivered him into such circumstances as decide which men are heroes: he valued life. All life. All lives, be they the treasured joy of his best friends, or the unremorseful cruelty of his aunt and uncle and cousin, or the dim sheep-like loyalty of Draco's school cronies, or the fierce and hopeless determination to survive that belonged to so many who fought at the very edges of the darkness. The ones who failed and fell were no less precious than the ones who found victory.

"Yeah," Harry says to Draco. "We will see." He takes a step closer to Ron. "I wonder, Malfoy, what do you think would happen if you were caught? Who do you think would come to your aid? And if you dragged them down with you, do you think they'd stand by your side and go to Azkaban with you happily? Or do you think they'd tear your throat out at the first opportunity?"

And here's the difference between the Dark Lord and Draco.
He was all talk, no action. Sure he'd threatened, and say as such. But when it came down to it? He was a coward, and a really scared, angry little boy.

And his sickly demeanor, and a quavering wand hand only added to the image. He didn't want Harry's words to get to him, but they were. And he was afraid that his rival was right. And that made him hate him all the more.

"I have allies, and I'll find more. You'll see." He angrily stated, his voice wavering in its vocal tones.

Ron only snorted at him, lowering his wand and shaking his head, rather like he pitied him.

He was different than Harry in that he felt no actual pity (unless he was really, really honest with himself) and only did it to try to make Malfoy feel pathetic.

Having the capacity to pity his enemies and actually allowing himself to be conscious of it are two different things entirely. Harry doesn't give names to what he feels or why he acts the way he does. He doesn't want to face what all those words all put together would define. He doesn't want to be the hero. He couldn't do it if he let himself try -- if his actions were dictated by the need to conform to a standard of nobility. He'd trip over every decision, second-guess himself to do what a hero was supposed to do.

Harry isn't a hero. Harry's just Harry. And that's why, with a glance towards Ron, he sighs and puts his wand away.

"You look like hell, Draco," he says. "Go over to the bar and get a mug of butterbeer or a sandwich or something, okay? No one can fight you as long as you're here, including us, no matter how much we want to. And it's bloody stupid to stand here having an argument neither of us can win."

He turns to Ron. "Come on. We'd better go find Hermione and tell her about the bar's new guest."

Draco finally lowered his wand, and studied Harry questioningly. Concern? From his enemy? Strange.

"I'm fine," he muttered and went to see about getting a key to a room, and maybe a fry-up while he was there as well.

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