NEED THE SUN TO BREAK

OUTFIT | @bones

Breakfast wasn't something that he ate all of the time, which was too bad, really. Usually he was up and on site so quickly that he didn't think much about making himself something for breakfast. That just seemed like a hell of a lot of work, that he usually couldn't be bothered with. If he remembered, then he got coffee or something, and there was usually someone that had brought along something to eat. But sometimes, he just didn't eat until lunch when he was at work. This was just a rare Friday off. He had decided to work most of the weekend, and in anticipation of that, Draco had decided that he could take today off. He would be back in Morocco first thing the next morning, but for today… he had no plans. He was just going to see where the day took him. It had been quite some time since he'd had a day like that one. Usually, he either needed hours of sleep on his days off, or he had meetings at Gringotts. It was a rare occasion to have a whole day, and nothing to do with it. Draco didn't quite know what he'd end up doing, but when he had woken up this morning, he'd wanted breakfast.

He couldn't quite remember the last time he'd gone out to breakfast-to the point that he wasn't sure where to even go at first. He wasn't going to cook himself breakfast, obviously. He wasn't going to con his mother into it or go over to Kate's or Vesper's to try to talk either of them into it. Maybe if he'd been there last night and had spent the night, that would have been achievable. But he hadn't. So he couldn't count on them for breakfast. He knew that he needed to find some restaurant that served breakfast. The Leaky did, but he didn't want to venture all the way into Diagon Alley. There were plenty of options if he went down that way, but he didn't quite feel like it. In London, he wasn't sure if there was a place, at least not one that didn't serve Muggles too. That was an unfortunate by-product of living around here to begin with-the best places to eat often served Muggles as well, but he knew how to school his expression when the situation called for it. And this situation, where he was craving a full English breakfast, certainly called for it.

So this was just… where he ended up. Clearwater Joint. As far as he knew, Muggles even ran the place, but he wasn't positive about that. He didn't know who the owners were-for all he knew, they were magical and just happened to serve Muggles too. He didn't have a damn clue. He just knew that this place was pretty popular among witches and wizards too, or else he never would have heard of it to begin with. It was still rather early in the morning, so he was surprised to find how busy it was when he pulled open the door and stepped inside. He supposed that proved that this breakfast was worth his time to begin with, and now that he was here, Draco certainly wasn't going anywhere else. As far as he could tell, all of the tables were taken. But there did look to be a bar, of some sorts. He didn't think he'd ever heard of a bar in a diner, but people were eating there so he figured that it would be far easier to grab a seat there as one person, than wait for a table. And as luck would have it, he was right.

It hadn't been more than a couple of minutes before someone had gotten up, and a small area at the counter had cleared up. The server cleaned away the previous customer's plates and what not, as Draco approached the stool. Pulling his sunglasses off, he dropped down onto the chair and nodded in greeting to the server. "I'll have a coffee, black. And a full breakfast--with fried eggs." The man nodded in response and went to go get his coffee. Draco thought that he'd need several cups of it to get through this morning. He'd been on site until late the night before, and had crashed in his tent there as opposed to going home. He'd known he had the day off today, so when he'd woken up and wanted breakfast, he'd made the decision to stop home first. He'd probably only gotten a handful of hours of sleep, but since he'd been craving breakfast from the second he'd woken up, he'd seen no reason to try to go back to sleep.

Break it all

She'd gotten up to piss, and shortly after she'd stepped out of the bathroom, she'd had to fucking go again. With a muttered swear, she'd headed back in, and when she left the loo, she was sure this fucking time she'd be good for another fifteen minutes. Maybe. Fuck.

She could and did hide her pregnancy under spelled wrapped, but there was little she could do about her pissing habits. Because she could-- what? wear a fucking diaper that Vanished it? Fuck no. She wasn't that fuckdamn desperate and down in life. That was only after giving birth, fuck you very much.

Oh, her seat was still saved, at least. Eating at the bar was still--
someone sat down and she let out a string of swearwords her mother would have tried to wash her mouth out for, even now. Intent on getting back her seat, she pushed through the people, opened her mouth to start ripping into the person when she realized the seat next to them had been her own, and was still open.

Well, whoever her previous neighbor had been, she doubted she'd miss them. What was the point in fucking conversation with people you'd see at eating places, like you'd fucking see them again? Cemeteries, yeah, those were sacred. Respect, in most fucking forms, where silence was expected and encouraged, and conversation either disrespectful or needed. That, Susan understood, understood well. Her first memories were in the cemetery, after all.

She swung into her seat, spiked braid falling over one side, and half-blocking her view. She wasn't going to duel this very instant, but it would be easy enough to shirt to that. What had she ordered? Or when? Her stomach growled. Had she? She glanced down at the menu, trying to remember. A fry-up, wasn't it? Yes, she'd ordered, she remembered that now. Potato cakes. She let out a slow, steady sigh through her nose. Good, good, she had a head half-fucking together.

She sat up straighter so she could watch for her approaching meal, her braid sliding away from her peripheral vision. Hang on, next to her, that was-- she'd brushed it off, because it had been years, and she'd been looking at the back, but fuck her up and sideways, the shitting pissflap--

This, well-- this was surely conversation."Didn't think you'd lower yourself to a place like this, Malfoy." Her face was Wizengamont-still, she was pretty sure that other than a slight tense there had been little. She could control her face to be professional somewhat, but she couldn't keep her fingers from drumming while she'd been in court. She could duel and attack with perhaps only minuscule tells, teeth bared and a laugh on her lips, and she wasn't going to be duelling today. There was no need to reach for her wand unless he did his, and even then it would be a careful mix of attack him or defend others, which was--

An Auror would defend. Susan would attack and direct, it needed. If he did first.

If there was any problem with being on site, it was the severe lack of good food. If he was craving something, there was an excellent chance that he wasn’t going to get it until the next time he was in England. Last night, he had been far too exhausted to head home even if he knew that he was off today. He had just decided that he’d have to head back in the morning, and he’d had no idea that he would be carving breakfast food until he had woken up. There were some options as far as breakfast spots went, but in the end he had chosen Clearwater Joint. Sure, it was a Muggle place, but he would just shower afterwards. They might be Muggles, but when he wanted a full breakfast and didn’t feel like dealing with the Leaky Cauldron, this was a pretty good bet. The Leaky likely would have been busy and would have taken ages. He was also far less likely to have to deal with anyone that he knew here.

As long as he got coffee and breakfast he thought that he’d be good for the rest of the day. He still felt like he could sleep another eight hours or so, but he’d live. Draco couldn’t complain mess with his sleep schedule when he needed to be back on site tomorrow. He would likely be able to sleep for a solid day next week and fix it then. That was just how it tended to work for him. He could be on site for long stretches at a time getting about four hours of sleep and then need a whole day to catch up on it. Draco had honestly been tempted to just go back to sleep when he had woken up, and not get anything to eat at all until he woke up next time. But he thought that he’d end up regretting that since he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. It was better to drag himself out of bed and get something eat and not risk falling back asleep for another ten hours and waking up at eleven at night or something. It was just easier this way.

The server brought over his coffee and he nodded in thanks before picking up the mug to take a sip. He thought that he would at least be able to be slightly productive after coffee and some food. It had been a good idea to come out this far. Dealing with Muggles was always unfortunate but if he got a good breakfast out of it, then he’d suffer for an hour or so before heading home and decontaminating. At least, he thought that he’d be able to deal with it until he heard another voice… a woman that he hadn’t noticed had sat back down. “Bones? Just when I thought this place couldn’t get any worse.” His words were quiet enough that only she could hear them, but then he raised his voice to get the attention of the waiter. “Oi, make my order to go, would you please?” He would absolutely not be able to suffer through Muggles and Susan Bones. There was only so much he could subject himself to, and that was just enough to make him need two showers.

need the sun to break

break it all

Susan had never liked people who thought they could separate being a supremacist and being a murderer. The line was fantastically easy to cross, as one of her grandmothers had found out. The other had left the supremacist views somewhat, and then died for it. Killed by Riddle, though she'd not had to outlive Edgar and his children, at least. Leta knew then, that what was thought to be a betrayal was deadly.

Carina had trusted her husband, and had been killed for it. Susan had met him the once, thirteen years old, awkward in her own body. Brutus, his name had been-- a hard name for a hard man. Her mother rarely talked about him, the man who'd fathered and orphaned her. She'd said precious little: that Brutus Flint had been disdainful of the radicals advocating violence, that he'd thought the Muggle-hunting bill gauche, and a handful of smaller, more sentimental things that supposedly humanized the man. To Susan, they only painted him with deeper colors of monstrosity. A common type of monster, to be sure, but his blood ran in her veins all the same.

People like him spurred her to be tougher on Death Eaters, on the unmarked, on the supporters, on those who claimed they'd 'only given gold'. They thought themselves so fucking logical, so above it all, and it was shitpiles like them that allowed this fuckery to happen, who opened gates and ushered them on in, or who played nice.

Susan was never good at playing nice. She'd grown up in a mostly-dead family, accepted her own death before she even knew what death truly meant. She played tough, legal, deadly. She'd gotten harder when she hated herself, because . . it had felt good, what she'd done. Felt good to hurt and be hurt, to hate and be hated, some sick sort of satisfied pleasure, and it went against everything she'd known, and so when she knew things that could hurt more, if she could see to it that those who needed to be punished were overlooked, and she knew how to give the consequence, why shouldn't she?

She was a Bones, and it was the Bones way to make war and enforce justice, to remember the dead for those who could and would not. Susan had never wanted anything else, never thought she could be anything, never considered doing something else, even at her lowest points. A legacy rested on her shoulders, and she was the only one who could carry it on before it crumbled to dust.

And this weaselheaded blonde bit of inbreeding was the pinnacle of everything. He'd escaped, and once the tide had turned, swam to the front-- perhaps the only thing that he'd done for himself. "Takes all kinds of people," she responded in the same whisper, biting back the sneer, glancing perfunctory at him. Fucking hell, the one fuckrotting day. . .

"I confess surprise it accepts even the likes of you, though."

☆507 words, Draco Malfoy☆

❤fai

I'm halfway gone,
sleepless I'm battle-worn

❧

After being on site for a long while, he usually wanted one of three things--food, a shower, or a good shag. That wasn’t in order of importance, by any means, but he definitely came home for one of the three. The food on site was fine. He had gotten used to it, and he grew to know the cultures of the place he was working enough to appreciate a meal in the village if it came down to it. He had certainly tried some food that he never would have thought he’d eat in his lifetime. But when he got home, he usually wanted a full breakfast or a burger and chips. Since it was breakfast, it was obvious which one of those two he was after. Clearwater Joint, however Muggle, had a decent breakfast and it worked for him location-wise. He figured he could stop in, have a good breakfast, and then shower when he got home so he could get the stench off of him. Being around Muggles was even worse than coming back from Morocco covered in dirt and sand, in his opinion.

The momentarily interaction would just barely be worth the breakfast that he got. Or so he had thought, anyway. The second that he realized that Susan Bones was there was the moment he realized that this breakfast would likely not be worth it in the slightest. It didn’t matter how good it was, he now had to deal with Muggles and Bones in the same trip. She was, in some ways, even worse than the Muggles. They were awful in so many ways, but since they didn’t know about magic, they barely even realized their inferiority. Susan Bones was a worse kind of annoyance. First of all, she was nothing great to look at. If she was at least attractive, maybe he could just ignore every word that came out of her mouth and just focus on that. But she wasn’t. So, she was bad to look at and worse to listen to, and frankly that combination just meant that she was an absolute waste of his time.

Salazar, if he could shoot a quick silencing spell or even a tongue-tying jinx at her, he would be in a much better mood. Really, he thought that he could vanish her off of the face of the earth and nobody would miss her. He hoped that she realized that. That the world would go right on spinning if she disappeared and they would all be much better off for it. Merlin knew that he would be having a much better day if she didn’t exist. Now he had to get his breakfast to go and he’d have to slip into an alleyway to put a warming spell on the food or else he knew it would be cold by the time he got home. What an inconvenience for him, all because Susan Bones had decided that this was where she wanted to be today.

Her insult, in his opinion, was lacking to the point that he was unsure if she’d even heard him correctly. She’d just insulted herself in the process of trying to insult him. It did take all kinds, if it took her. This place had been bad enough, but now that Draco knew that Bones came here, he knew he’d have to find a far better breakfast establishment than this next time. “Please. If they knew who I was, they’d be kissing the ground I walked on.” Maybe one day, they would be. If the magical world ever came out of the shadows, surely Muggles would come to realize how much superior pure magical beings were to the likes of them.

@ bones

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