You take your love interest on a more casual date this time, and finally musters the courage to be a bit more open with your feelings. He tells you a secret.

6. A Magical Date

You were high on endorphins for days after the amazing ball. Again and again you played it over in your mind, reliving every single moment of the – until then – best evening of your life. The green and silver bracelet Drake had given you became your most dear possession and you even wore it when you slept.

The first time you met again after the ball, you hoped Drake would wear his too and that your classmates would notice, but unfortunately you couldn't see if he did; he wore long sleeves as usual.

You felt a bit shy around him. Had he forgotten about the date he promised you? Perhaps changed his mind? It felt awkward to bring it up, especially since you hadn't found a suitable movie yet. Once you had an actual date to suggest it would be easier.

It needed to be a romantic movie, you figured, or else a scary one. Something that would make you able to sit very close, just like in the opera that time. Also, it had to be a long one; a ninety minute Hollywood romcom wouldn't be enough.

A week later you had your chance. You saw that the student theater was showing Titanic the next weekend, which was perfect for your needs in every way. Long, romantic, and sad. You had seen it before, in the late nineties when it premiered, and didn't mind a rewatch.

You waited until the lectures were over before you approached Drake, making sure nobody else was around to hear. Unsurprisingly your body reacted like always on such occasions and gave you a rapid pulse and trembling fingers, but you put your hands in your pockets and hoped your voice didn't betray your nervousness.

Drake accepted without ado. The time and date suited him and he looked forward to seeing his first ever movie.

"Should I bring or wear anything special?" he asked. "I don't know the etiquette for this kind of evening out."

His question made you smile inwardly; you had asked yourself the same thing when he took you to the opera.

"No, you don't bring anything; we'll buy popcorn at the theater. But perhaps you could wear something a bit more comfortable and informal?"

"Hm, I'm not good at Swedish fashion. This is considered formal?" He indicated his suit. Today he wore a white one; since it became spring he had favored light colors, but it still looked both too warm and very impractical.

You chose your words carefully when you replied; he had worn suits all year and you didn't want him to think he had dressed oddly (though he had).

"Suits are fine, but a t-shirt and jeans will do nicely for a movie night. Perhaps with a casual jacket if you get cold in the evening."

"Okay, casual it is. I'll see what I can find."

The following days went by very slowly. Now that you had decided on a day, Saturday took forever to arrive. You used the waiting time to think of a present to give Drake, just like he had given you the amazing bracelet. But what did he like? You had already given him CDs, and jewelry was beyond your budget.

Then you got an idea. You headed to a toy store and soon found precisely what you were looking for. Spot on!

Drake and you had arranged to meet up outside a fast food restaurant of your choice. Just in case, you went there half an hour early, but when you arrived it felt awkward to stand and wait for him like an impatient kid. You didn't want to seem too eager. Instead you hid in a doorway at the opposite side of the street.

When Drake arrived you discreetly stepped out of your hiding place, joining him like you had just come too.

To your delight, you saw he had done as you asked and chosen casual clothes; black jeans and a long-sleeved, dark green t-shirt which suited him exceedingly. You were so struck with how good he looked you could hardly get a word out.

"Hi," you said, overcome by shyness. Then you gave him the small gift you had prepared.

"What's this? It's not my birthday yet."

"You gave me a present the last time." You shook your arm so the bracelet rattled. "I like it so much, and I wanted to give you something too."

A wide smile broke out on his lips when he unwrapped the toy. "It's a mini dragon! How cute." He pulled you into a quick hug. "I love it."

You looked at your feet, trying to hide how flustered the hug made you. "It's nothing compared to what you gave me, but I figured since 'drake' means dragon in Swedish it would suit you."

"That's so thoughtful." He put it in his jeans pocket. "I shall keep him with me; I'm sure he'll bring me luck."

You all but bounced into the restaurant. He liked your gift!

Drake had never been to a fast food restaurant before, so you ordered a burger meal for each of you.

"No knife or fork?" he asked incredulously when it arrived.

You showed him how to hold the burger with the paper and tried to explain this was how it was done, but he didn't seem convinced.

One bite of the burger later thankfully won him over completely. "This is divine," he said, voice muffled by the food. "I feel like a barbarian eating like this but by gods, it's good. Order another for me, will you? I'll pay."

"No I'll pay," you insisted, and went over to the counter before he could stop you. This date was your idea and he had already given you so much.

Two burger meals, one pie and coffee, and an ice cream later, he decided he was done.

"You won't have room for popcorn now," you scolded him.

"There is always room for more."

"I wonder where it all goes?" You indicated his slim waist.

He shrugged. "I don't eat much at home. It's boring to eat alone."

"Then you should eat in company more often." You wanted to add that he could do it with you, as often as he liked, but felt that would be a bit too forward. Maybe after the watching the movie together you would be braver.

The theater you went to was small and very old, and run by a student movie club. You bought a large popcorn to share, and made sure to buy tickets for the back row which had couples' seats with no armrests between.

When you found your seats, you pretended you hadn't known that. "Oh, sorry, these are tight," you said apologetically.

"It's alright."

You sat, feeling Drake's arm press against yours. An excited thrill went through you. This had been such a good idea!

When the movie began, you could tell he was soon completely captivated by it. His hand lingered unmoving over the popcorn bowl.

You, on the other hand, found his closeness very distracting. His scent filled the air around you and you felt the warmth of his arm acutely. Seeing the contours of his fit body through the thin cotton of his t-shirt was no help either.

"Do you like the movie?" you whispered to get an excuse to move a bit closer. Now your legs were touching as well.

"A lot. I had no idea you people could make pictures move like this," he mumbled without taking his eyes from the screen. "It's like... magic."

You didn't quite understand what he meant, but didn't pay much attention anyway. You were sitting as close to him as you dared, reveling in the moment and wishing the movie would never end.

When the dramatic part began, you gathered every ounce of your courage. "It's scary." You sneaked your hand into his.

He tensed, becoming very still.

You immediately regretted what you had done, feeling your face burn hotly.

You tried to draw back your hand, but he held it. "No, it's alright." He made a pause, and then sighed. "You startled me, that's all."

Despite his words, you weren't quite sure it was true. Why had he reacted like he did then? And you thought there was something off about his reply. He had sounded... sad, almost?

But when he kept holding your hand, you tried to forget your worry.

Now the movie was becoming tragic, showing the unfairness of the poor people's fate, locked down in Third Class, unable to escape the sinking death trap the ship had become.

Just like when you first saw it, you felt tears sting your eyes.

You edged closer to Drake again and this time he didn't move away. Instead he released your hand so he could put his arm around you.

Heart thrumming, you leaned your head against his firm shoulder and slipped your arm around his waist. This close, he overwhelmed all your senses with his warmth and irresistible scent.

He rested his face against the top of your head and inhaled softly. As if he was drawing in your scent too.

Was this really happening? It felt surreal.

You couldn't say how long the moment lasted, only that it was much too short. The movie ended and you had to leave the snug seat.

But your disappointment quickly turned into exhilaration when Drake took your hand as you left the theater. "I loved it," he told you, squeezing it. "I like your kind of night out more and more."

He still sounded a bit down, however, and his eyes were red like he had cried. But then, Titanic was a sad movie...

"Where to next?" he asked.

"The park, for the drink-sharing I mentioned. I have cider."

You walked slowly along the street. The evenings were very light this time of the year, but despite it being May there was a chill in the air. You hardly noticed it; you felt feverish walking hand in hand with Drake.

You chose a central park by the canal and sat down near the water. You opened two cider cans and gave Drake one.

At first, you sipped your drinks in silence. Despite the bustling city not far away, the place felt secluded and private. Huge trees towered around you, their leaves small and freshly green, and near the water a few lilac bushes sent a mild fragrance your way. The dark water rippled in the evening breeze.

The air felt warmer now, you reflected, despite the late hour, and though there were others in the park they kept far away.

You sat close enough that you felt Drake's leg brush against yours. You hoped he would put his arm around you, but this time you waited for him to make the next move. You didn't want to startle him again like in the theater.

Thinking about the movie, it struck you how strange it was that a young man of twenty or so had never seen one before, nor owned a TV, or a CD-player. Even if his parents were as old-fashioned as he said, why had he not tried those things after he moved out? He clearly could afford it.

"What was your childhood like?"

He sounded reluctant when he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I just find it odd you have never seen a movie... were you in some sort of sect? Like, Amish or something?"

"No. I told you, my parents were just very conservative about the old ways." He had a closed expression and didn't look at you as he took a deep draught of cider.

Again he had talked about them in past tense. "Why do you say 'were'? Are they... Did they pass away?"

"My father did." There was a deep bitterness in his voice.

"Oh no... What happened? If you want to talk about it."

"He died in prison."

You stared at him. "Your father was a criminal?"

"Yes. A war criminal."

"War? Now you said it again... what war? Where are you from?"

"It's complicated."

You snuck your arms around him, hugging him. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't pry."

He returned the hug for a short while, but then he gently eased your arms off and drew back. "Look... I like you. I really do. But this, that you are trying to... I have been thinking, and no matter how much I want to, I can't. We are from too different worlds."

His words made your throat grow tight and you struggled not to cry. He was breaking up with you before anything had even started. But why? You didn't understand.

And what did he mean by different worlds? Was he talking about social class?

You had to know. He owed that much to you, at least.

"Is it like in the movie? You are from a fine family like Rose and I'm simple and poor like Jack..."

"No." He shook his head for emphasis. "Of course not. It's something else entirely. But you wouldn't understand even if I was allowed to explain it to you."

"Explain what?" You couldn't hold back your frustration. "Are you a celebrity? Royalty? The grandson of the British queen?"

He leaned his face against his knees, wrapping his arms around them. As if hiding from you. "I'm British, but not royalty," he mumbled. "I've actually never been to America. I lied about that. I've lied a lot to you. That's one of the reasons this won't work; I'm not a good person."

Now he sounded sad again, like he too was on the verge of tears, and all you wanted to do was hug him and comfort him. But despite being so close, he felt far away.

"I forgive you; I'm sure you had a good reason. But please try to explain. I can't... I can't just pretend nothing ever happened unless I know why I must forget about you."

He was silent for several minutes. Then he sighed deeply. "Alright, then. I will try." He pulled out a smooth, thin stick from under his sleeve. "This is a wand."

You blinked. "Uh, okay?"

He pointed it at the closest bush. "Accio lilac flower." Something snapped and a twig with a few leaves and a flower came flying toward him. "Wingardium Leviosa." It stopped right in front of you, suspended in mid-air.

You thought it was a trick first, but then you touched it. It felt real. You gave it a push and it bounced back in position.

"I'm a wizard," said Drake calmly.

You stared so hard at the floating flower your eyeballs were on the verge of popping out of your head. Suddenly petrified with terror, your heart began to beat frantically. This couldn't be happening. It must be a practical joke. An illusion.

The lilac hovered before you; so ordinary, yet so disturbing in its defiance of gravity.

"Calm down."

Instead of soothing you, his voice frightened you even further. Liquid ice began to trickle down your spine and you couldn't get enough air.

When he tried to put his hand on your arm you shied away.

He had done something to that flower and now he scared you too. You wanted to run away but your body wouldn't obey.

You began to tremble violently.

Warmth enveloped you; the air temperature was rising. "This is a warming charm," said Drake. "And another charm makes sure nobody else pays attention to us. They can't hear us either. There are many useful spells."

His calm voice in combination with the warmth gradually made you breathe a little easier.

"I'm a wizard," he said again. "You live in what we call the muggle world."

"C-can you p-please take it down?" you whispered through chattering teeth.

"Finite Incantatem." The flower fell to the grass.

You took it, but your hand shook so much you nearly dropped it.

Drake enclosed your hand with both of his, holding it still. "Do you see now why this can't be? We're too different. I frighten you."

You met his gaze. His eyes were dejected and his expression glum.

You looked at the flower instead, putting it to your nose. It smelled sweet. It was a completely normal lilac.

In a way, this all made sense. Drake had acted strange from the first moment you met him. He did seem otherworldly. And he had done impossible things several times, such as when he scared away the muggers, or when he miraculously cured your hangover.

But how was it possible? A wizard? It sounded like a fairy-tale, yet Drake was real, and the flower was real, and you knew you hadn't imagined what you saw.

"That medicine you gave me once, was that a spell too?"

"No, that was a potion."

You recalled the strange room with the cauldrons and bottles. "Your lab is real?"

"It's real, yes. We make a lot of potions in my world. For healing, for sleep, for changing one's appearance, for curing poisons... and many more."

"No wonder you like chemistry then," you mumbled tonelessly. The acute panic had become replaced with a strange numbness.

"It's a bit similar, yes. We don't have chemistry in my world, or electricity, or movies. We do things our way, and we're not allowed to show any of it to your kind."

"Then this will get you in trouble?"

His features became even more gloomy. "No, you will forget all of it."

"Of course I won't." Was he stupid? This evening would probably haunt you forever.

Shoulders drooping, he twirled the wand between his fingers. "I'm sorry, but yes, you will."

You didn't understand, and your head was too full. You couldn't think clearly. All you knew was that you couldn't be afraid of him when he looked so vulnerable and melancholy. You still liked him – perhaps even more now that he had told you his secret – and you didn't want him to hurt.

"It's alright," you mumbled, stroking his shoulder. "We'll figure this out. Somehow, we'll figure this out."

A/N:

Since this is an alternate version of the Harry Potter books without the Epilogue, I've changed Draco's parents' fate. In my version, Lucius was sent to Azkaban and died there shortly afterwards, and Narcissa inherited the estate, but Draco has no contact with her at the moment.

Thanks for comments and votes! *smooches*