"Absolutely not!" Draco exclaimed, pacing the room.
"Well you have to do something," Amaro Vasquez claimed seriously.
Demitria sat opposite to Vasquez and said nothing but nodded in agreement.
"This is absolutely absurd! I cannot afford to spend a month lounging in a rehabilitation center. That is basically like admitting guilt!" He didn't stop pacing. In fact, it seemed he was intent on wearing his tracks into the carpet.
"Hmmm," Demitria hummed to herself, brainstorming again. They'd outlined several ideas on the board, trying to help Draco extricate himself from the mess he'd made. They'd been in this room so many times and sat in the same chairs in the same orientation that the seats were beginning to indent to the shape of her bum. She tapped her lower lip with her wand, pondering how to get this petty man-child out of yet another situation he'd gotten himself into. When she'd signed on to this job as a veteran PR specialist at just 29, she'd assumed she wouldn't be used much but merely be kept on hold in case of minor PR incidents. She had always known that 'PR' was just a nice way of saying that she'd have to do anything within her power to keep her boss's image squeaky clean, whether it be greasing some palms or finding other more imaginative solutions. She hadn't expected however to have sat in the same room almost every other month resolving one PR nightmare after another all because the BBB (Big Blond Baby as Vasquez and her had taken to calling Draco) couldn't bloody well keep it together.
She wondered if he had ever been anything more than a man-child - if he had once actually been the man she had admired and aspired to work for or if he had merely had an excellent PR rep who managed to keep his image squeaky clean. No wonder the previous guy had quit. No amount of money in the world could save one from the endless nightmare that was Draco Malfoy. For the last three years all of Draco's indiscretions and mistakes had been kept under wraps thanks to the diligent work of the dynamic duo seated in that very room.
"I agree with Draco," Demitria said. Amaro's head shot up at that and he eyed his partner with a look of betrayal. She was seriously taking the BBB's side instead of his?
"I don't think that dumping a ton of money into a charity is going to fix this one. And I don't think that entering a racial-rehabilitation program will look any better on your image than if you had outright insisted that Mudblood is the correct term to use," she clarified, "In fact, this is quite serious. Because of the...incident-" Incident was quite the euphemism for this debacle but mean words would only make the BBB less inclined to listen to their reasoning, "-we need to take a more...hardlined measure of the situation".
Incident indeed. The only reason that an angry mob wasn't out for the BBB's blood was because of some seedy manipulation of digital media on her and Amaro's part. What an absolute disaster, being caught using that nasty word on a live feed being played by millions of people millions of times.
They'd doctored several versions of that tape and had thrown in some rumors about polyjuice and alcohol to dilute the flow of information but that had merely prevented a mob situation spiraling out of control. It didn't mean that people would continue to buy products from companies owned or collaborating with Malfoy industries.
In fact, the Together United, Divided Defeated and the Magical Equality movements were throwing a huge fit about blood inequalities in the Wizarding world and they had just decided to make Draco the brand ambassador to embody the imagery of their enemies. Now look at this evil, rich, handsome pureblooded devil. Isn't he just so easy to hate? Integrated social technology and mad mobs had exacerbated what would have otherwise been a contained event. It was so much harder to grease palms quietly and deal with this old-school when modern technology was involved. Dimitria once again cursed the creators of MagicNet as the common folk called it. It felt so bizzare -this new world. Not too long ago Wizarding schools like Durmstrang, Hogwarts and Aadhivaasi didn't permit muggle technology on their premise. Now wizarding youths all had cell phones and social media accounts, although there were still very strict prohibitions on interacting and revealing wizarding information to muggles.
Draco's blunder had been absolutely colossal. The language he, well...they, typically reserved for home had slipped out in public and he had accidentally said 'Mudblood' instead of 'Muggleborn'. Such a shame too considering his exact statement was 'I believe Mudbloods should be treated with as much dignity and consideration as any wizard, pureblood or otherwise'. Man that had not gone over as it should have, given the racist terminology.
When she was studying at Beauxbatons, they had used that word with reckless abandon. Sometimes as a curse word, sometimes as a word to refer to their closest comrades. Now it was socially objectionable. Oh how the world had changed in just a few years.
"Such as..?" Amaro raised an eyebrow at her.
She cleared her throat. Draco was never going to agree to this suggestion.
She fiddled with her pinkie ring before addressing both men.
"I think you need to date or marry a muggleborn. That way you will-"
"No no no no no!" Draco was back to pacing again. "Your response to me using the wrong word by accident is to punish me for the rest of my life?" Demitria wondered if she imagined that his voice cracked at the end.
"Marrying a muggleborn is not a punishment," Demitria insisted, trying not to roll her eyes. Why was this man-child...no...man-baby so dense? "You would be married for a short term and then part amicably," just as she had done with her girlfriend a few months back she thought bitterly. Her heart gave a lurch as she thought momentarily of that that heavy straight hair caressing her breasts then her belly as her girlfriend drew a hot trail of kisses dow-
-"Let me get this straight. In order to rehabilitate my image, you want me to find and marry a muggleborn? First of all, how do we know that this comment has actually affected Malfoy Industries or any subsidiaries? Secondly, do you really think people would believe this insane stunt and why can't we just date instead of get married? And third, I will absolutely not be marrying her!" Well, him arguing back was a good sign because it meant he hadn't outright dismissed the idea however distasteful.
"Who is this her?" Vasquez interrupted as the brunnette breathed in to counter.
Draco looked just as surprised as either of them and then cleared his throat, clearly unwilling to answer.
"So here's the dose of reality that you hired me for." Demitria clasped her hands and leaned in. If you had been anyone, anywhere else, anytime else, you would not need to go to such extraordinary lengths to save your image but you are in fact who you are. You're the son of a former death eater - reformed but former nonetheless," she quickly corrected herself as he turned to interrupt her. For Merlin's sake, she had been the one to insist he use the term 'reformed' rather than 'former'. "You are rich and pureblooded and male in a time when it is best to be poor or muggleblooded or both. Additionally you've made several comments and have had several incidences in the past few years. And your well known enmity with Harry Potter, the savior of the universe, has put you at odds with...well, everyone. People are just waiting for you to give them a reason to hate you"
Before either Amaro or Demitria could respond or counter, Draco stopped.
"No, this isn't going to work. Figure out something else." And he was out of the room.
Demitria looked at Amaro and they both let out a deep sigh. She put her head in her hands, growling in deep seated frustration.
"And to think you thought this job would be dull huh Di?," Amaro laughed.
"Well, at least I'm kept entertained and on my feet," She smiled tightly.
Amaro smiled dashingly at Hansen Spielberg, the sixty something year old bat who headed Draco Malfoy's board of directors. She looked something like a cross between a bird and a shark. She had a nose that looked a bit like a beak and he supposed he imagined her to be some form of shark because of the way she took bites out of you during almost any and every conversation you had with her.
But he hadn't been bequeathed the name Sooravali for nothing. His Tamil mother probably knew he'd one day be the harbinger of deception and destruction. Draco was just lucky to have employed him before anyone from the board did. Sooravali may have been exceptionally devious but he was also fiercely loyal. Probably a trait he'd inherited from his sweet Argentinian father.
" ," Amaro inclined his head. "Vasquez," Hansen responded snappishly. Man, for a Hufflepuff, she sure behaved like a bloody snake. Or maybe that was because Hansen had been bitten one too many times by the vipers and had learned the hard way to wear her armor.
For the next two hours, the board discussed business, trajectories, future plans...etc. Amaro tuned most of it out as he usually did but he watched every person in the room like a fucking hawk. Mostly he paid attention to people's faces and their postures. This room always had special bug cameras dispersed around it, recording their meetings. This was all done with Draco's approval of course. The purpose of these bugs was to help Amaro determine the unspoken desires and intentions of the board. Amaro could feel the tension rising in the room. No doubt it was about the incident.
"And for a final matter of business," Isabelle Blanc stood up. A pureblooded majestic creature she was, tall, blond and almost the mirror image of what Amaro imagined a Nordic goddess might look like. When she stood next to Draco, she looked like she could be either his sister or his perfect other half. Amaro had wanted to take her to bed but Isabelle held herself to another level. Even Draco was unable to bed her. Perhaps that was what was so desirable about her. She couldn't be flushed out of one's system because she wouldn't enter that system.
"I call of a vote to terminate Draco Malfoy as the CEO of Malfoy Enterprises," Although she attempted to look serious, Isabelle only managed to look smug. Amaro and Draco both started.
"What's the basis of this," Draco managed to keep his temper under control but Amaro could feel the tension in his aura rising. It made him deeply uncomfortable. He often wondered if this is why people feared the Malfoys. It felt like the air was...crackling. There was something innately dangerous in the atmosphere as if if someone were to light a match for a cigarette, the air would spontaneously combust. Everyone in the room had known this was coming except Amaro and Draco so this sudden change in magic and temperature had to be almost entirely Draco's.
Amaro glanced at Hansen who seemed to be studiously ignoring him. The fucking bitch. They all knew and were going to vote against him.
"I thought it was fairly obvious," Isabella intoned, her American accent becoming slightly nasally with the effort not to snort or roll her eyes.
"That incident was an accident," Draco hissed, his voice almost quivering with unleashed fury.
"We know all about your accidents Draco," Now Hansen spoke up. Amaro's eyes narrowed. So did Draco's as he whirled to face her.
"Oh come now, you didn't think we wouldn't find out did you? I suggest that next time you're a bit more careful with who you let into your circle."
Draco's eyes twitched towards Amaro for half a second.
"Oh don't worry. He didn't let your secrets out. Amaro is as useful as a pencil in place of a screwdriver but he's painfully loyal just like a dog. It's your spending budget. You've paid off so many lose mouths with company money which was kept for emergencies like this but you can't imagine that we wouldn't know or notice"
Now it was Amaro's time to fume silently. If he had been in any other room, he'd have probably been strangling Hansen right about now. He indulged in that fantasy for a few moments.
"This debacle is not going away. In fact, you and your little PR team may have even made it worse and more noticeable with your little tampering."
"Why you little fucking cun-"
"I'd think twice before finishing that statement Draco," Hansen warned him. This crone who had probably been old during the age of the dinosaurs had watched Draco grow up. Amaro couldn't understand how she could do this to him.
"I think you have a lot of issues to sort through. And this position will be here when you're done figuring things out with yourself."
"I don't need to figure things out. What I need is support from the fucking company that I own, that my ancestors my FATHER BUILT. THAT I FUCKING BUILT"
"And it will be here and we will be here to support you after you've cleaned up your image. Think of this as an extended vacation"
"So who's going to run things when I'm gone huh? Is it going to be you Hansen? Or you Robert? Maybe you'll take over Isabella? You've always wanted to fuck me. I've only now realized in what way"
Isabella didn't didn't bother hiding the grin.
"For Merlin's sake Draco! Watch your tongue," Goddfrei was 72 and not used to the language the board typically used. Even Hansen was younger than him and Hansen was as old as the bloody sun.
"We're not pushing you out Draco. We see that you're enormously stressed. You haven't taken a vacation in years. You've been working so much, your skin is turning even more pale. Soon you're going to be freaking translucent!"
"So what's the vote huh?" Draco hissed at them generally.
Unanimous that's what it was.
Draco was angry-walking down the corridor. Amaro practically had to jog to keep up with him. He was sure this was the end. Draco was going to fire him for not paying attention to the board when he was supposed to. He really hadn't had a clue. Maybe the mistake was in having him be present for the meetings where everyone knew what purpose he was there for. They probably knowingly concealed themselves. He'd saved Draco on more than one occasion but it only took one bad situation to be fired.
"Alright," Draco said on their elevator ride down. Amaro opened his mouth, thinking he had been talking to him.
"Where are you going?".
"To get a fucking drink! What do you think?"
Amaro, against his screaming intuition, followed.
*1*
Draco and Amaro apparated to knockturn alley which was nowadays filled with hippies and with the liberal genepool. Some parts of knockturn alley were still almost completely inaccessible by the general public and you had to be someone to get in but Draco wasn't interested in buying some extravagantly priced dangerous garbage. He walked into the closest pub and taking a seat at the bar.
"Wingshot, neat" Draco called to the bartender. In Draco's silent fury, he'd failed to notice the sudden deadly silence that hit the bar like a blast of cold air.
"Here, it's on me. You can drink this but then you have to leave," the bartender looked at Draco intently. The young man's bushy moustache was twitching slightly. Draco looked up from the drink he had been handed.
"Why the fuck should I leave. My money's as good as anybody's" He snapped and proceeded to take an exaggeratedly slow drag of his drink.
"Your money not as good as anybody elses you stupid Squig," Someone called out.
Draco whipped around. Fury blinding him. Squig was about as close to a mudblood equivalent for a pureblooded as one could get. It went back to the days where Squib children were mutilated to try to try to enhance them into becoming magical.
"Draco," Amaro warned, grabbing hold of Draco. He could envision the headlines now. Draco Malfoy curses teens at bar following a heated discussion.
"Get off me," Draco shoved his hand out of the way and Amaro put himself in between Draco and the jeering crowd. Everyone at the bar was either jeering or quietly watching the spectacle now.
"Get out of here Death Eating scum. Go fuck yourself of Voldemort's cock," Some dirty faced witch yelled, protected by the mob of friends she had surrounding her.
'Deatheating scum' became the term of the day as several people began yelling it at intervals.
"I am not a fucking Death Eater!" Draco yelled into the crowd.
"My mum was killed by a fucking Death Eater you fucking Squig," some tall boy, barely out of his teens had decided to distinguish himself from the crowd.
"Get out of this bar or I'm gonna bash your head in with my bare hands," This time it was a massive hulk of a wizard. The guy was built like a fucking machine which was uncommon for wizards considering they typically didn't need to lift a finger to do any amount of work. Draco wondered if he was possibly a squib.
"I'll stay here as long as bloody well please! You can't discriminate against me. I've done nothing wrong!"
"It's people like you who are trying to destroy our world!" The level of animosity and hatred emanating from this hulk was enough to make anyone think twice about staying at the bar.
"If I could, I'd twist your body on a pole and impale you ass to mouth you motherfucking piece of shit."
"I was never tried for any crimes. What? Are you going to dispense mob justice in place of the Wizengamot court? Are you goi-"
"I heard your mother likes it up the ass and mouth at the same time. Isn't that how you Malfoys like to do it? The question is, does your mum like you in the front or the rear?"
The man darted forward and grabbed Draco by the neck, slamming him against the bar and repeatedly punching Draco in the face.
The man was screaming nonsense into Draco's face. Amaro's wand was out and the words were on their way out of his throat when-.
Draco had been in the Great War. He'd been on both sides of it and had fought in the front lines, his life on the line. He'd survived on more than dumb luck and favors from strangers. He was a beast when it came to quick successive war spells which was why as the hulk attempted to punch a hole through his head, Draco disarmed his wand and paralyzed him where he stood. Suddenly the big man who was at least a food and a half taller than him couldn't move though it was obvious by his frantic eyeball action that he was conscious through it all.
Draco climbed daintily on the bar top, stooping to pick up his drink.
"Cheers," He called, downing the burning concoction in one go. Spells were now flailing left and right, people aiming in his general vicinity. Most of them missed but some of them hit him and Amaro didn't know if he was imagining it or not but he seemed to enjoy being hurt. What the fuck was on with Draco. He'd been a bit mad to begin with but this was on another level entirely.
Amaro projected a quick defensive shield that had to be recast every few feet that Draco went. Amaro wasn't a defence specialist. Most of his magical work specialized around digitalization of magic so he was quite shit when it came to spells of any other nature. A particularly nasty cutting spell found its way onto Draco's cheek and the blood from his cheek was now blending in with the caked mess on his nose.
Draco casually strolled up and down the bar, his face streaming blood, grinning like a mad man.
And once he was satisfied with this strut up and down the bar, he jumped down, patted the hulk on the back and released the spell. The man fell on his bottom with a thud.
Draco leaned in to whisper something in his ear and the strongman looked up at him, shock and fear revealing itself. Draco grinned and patted his head before walking out, the perfect impersonation of someone quite insane and untamable.
"List of candidates by tomorrow!" Draco called, his demeanor no longer depicting the happy insane man he had been moments ago.
Amaro guessed that was a thin facade to hide against a greater truth perhaps. He'd had more than enough of Draco Malfoy for the day so he happily complied. He made a mental note to let Di know about the insanity that had transpired at the shady pub. Something was deeply wrong with Draco in a way that neither of them had expected or guessed. And no amount of PR control could change a subject who insisted on enduring both physical and non-physical forms of destruction.
A/N
Pls review if you liked (or disliked) it guys! I'm really excited to be writing again esp since I've been plotting this fic for FOREVVEERRR!