A/N: Just a random one-shot I wrote about a month ago. Hope you like it. Please Review!
Draco slumped in his seat, an expensive dragon skin armchair. He knew his mother was angry, but how much, he didn't know. All his life she had fawned over him, spoiling him, giving him everything he had ever asked for. But ever since father's arrest she had gone off the deep end, muttering to herself and crying in her sleep. Draco knew he should feel sympathy for her, but he couldn't deny he wasn't at least slightly repulsed by her behavior. After all, it wasn't how a Malfoy—not to mention pureblood—should act, as his parents had so wisely taught him fifteen years prior.
The look on Narcissa Malfoy's face scared her son. She had put up with him year after year, his pompous behavior, and his tactless insults. She wanted to discipline him, but to no avail. He reminded her so much of her husband, and she couldn't get herself to punish him because of it. But the fight had been the last straw. Fighting with the Weasley boy like that! It was barbaric, fist fighting with him—Ronald?—like a common Muggle, not the dignified heir to the Malfoy estate that he truly was. And in a public place! What would people think of them? Their reputation had been going down the drain ever since Lucious was sent to Azkaban. Yes, this was the final straw. She just hoped it would make a difference.
"Your behavior was unacceptable." She reprimanded.
"Yes, mother." His response was so robotic, so toneless, that Narsissa knew he hadn't meant a word of it. She knew what she had to do, even if it did go against everything her family stood for.
"You are to get a job." She told him, dreading his reaction.
"WHAT?" He yelled. She winced; she hadn't expected him to be so loud.
"You are to get a job." She repeated with a sigh.
"But-but why?" He whined, hoping his tantrum would change his mother's mind.
"You need to mature, Draco." She explained. "You're fifteen, almost sixteen; I can't have you breaking rules and disrespecting authority simply because you want to everything to go your way."
"But I don't need a job for that!" He protested. "I'll stay away from Potter and Weasley, okay?"
She gave him a grim smile. "I'm afraid that won't have any lasting effects." She said to him. "No, you're going to need some responsibility. Just for the summer, though, I don't want it to interfere with your studies at Hogwarts."
"And where do you expect me to get this job?" He demanded, sadness turning to anger. "No one hires fifteen-year-olds in the Wizarding world!"
"Who said anything about it being in the Wizarding world?" Narcissa asked her son. "There are plenty of jobs out there in the Muggle world."
"You want me to work with filthy Muggles?" Draco asked incredulously. "I'd never do that!"
"But, I'm afraid, you don't have a say in the matter." Narsissa said, ending further discussion. It was true, willingly cooperating with Muggles was considered traitorous in her family. But with Lucious in Azkaban, he had no way of knowing Draco's summer activities.
"Tell me when you've found one." She told her son. "I expect you to be hired by the end of the week." She didn't know how long it took to find a job, but figured a week was more then enough time.
Draco fumed silently as he strolled—well, marched, really—down Rosewind Street. He had been wandering around aimlessly for the past hour, cursing her mother in his thoughts for making him do this. How was he supposed to find a job in the Muggle world? He knew nothing about being a Muggle! The strangle looks he was getting for his emerald robes further proved his point.
Rosewind Street was part of the town center of a Muggle village near his manor. Lined with plants, the busy street contained all the necessities of the growing village-market, bank, clothing store, and restaurant. Across from him, and old bookstore opened, the owner putting up a sign that read: NOW HIRING-Only two positions availible! Limited experience needed.
Perfect, Draco thought, crossing the busy street. The bookstore was built out of dark brown wood, broken and damaged in places. It had to be at least fifty years old, with its worn out Hugo's Book Emporium sign.
Draco entered the shop, wiping the dirt of his shoes as a bell rang from behind. There were isles and isles of bookshelves, all black wood, all in need of serious repair. The green carpet had faded to dull gray, and the wallpaper was peeling off. It was the kind of place Draco despised, rusty and ready to collapse, but he went to the cashier's desk anyway. Nowhere else he had gone had had hiring signs, and Draco wanted to get it over with as soon as he possibly could.
The man at the cashier was in his fifties, his hair graying and falling out. He dressed causally, a sweatshirt and jeans. Draco wondered if this was Hugo, or if the shop had been named after someone else, possibly the man's father. It was clear the man was the manager of the store, since there were no other employees in the building. In fact, he and Draco were the only ones to be found in the store.
"Excuse me…" Draco started, unsure how to begin.
"Looking for something, kid?" The man asked him.
"I saw the sign on the door." Draco stated. "I was wondering if you would give me a job?" He asked hopefully.
The man stared at Draco, at his wizard's robes. After a few minutes of silence, the man said, "I guess so. Not many people are offering, to be honest. But if you're willing to work diligently, from nine to four, then sure." He said. "Pay's given at the end of the week. Can't give you much, though. You can start tomorrow."
"Okay." Draco responded, turning to leave.
"Oh, and kid?" The manager asked as Draco pushed the front door open.
"Yes?"
"You might want to ditch the funny clothes."
Draco made his way home, hoping that his mother had calmed down enough to call this whole thing off. Unfortunately for him, that wasn't the case.
Hermoine set down her book, Standard Book of Spells, Year Five, on the coffee table beside her. She had finished all of her homework within the first week of summer vacation, and had been rereading her old textbooks so she wouldn't forget anything. She desperately wanted to go to Diagon Alley and buy the books for next year, but her parents were currently in Ireland, visiting some family members. They had left Hermione alone in the house for the next two weeks, and Hermione was determined to show them that they could trust her. She loved pleasing people, even if Ron and her classmates made fun of her for it.
Ron... She had crushed on him for years since they met, but those feelings had been dying ever since the Yule Ball. He had shown just how nasty he could be about jealousy that night, and it had completely disgusted Hermoine. She didn't like being around jealous guys, and Ron definitely fell under that category.
Hermione entered Hugo's Bookstore and looked around. She loved the bookstore ever since her mother had first taken her there when she was nine. Even though some turned up their nose at the shop's fraying appearance, Hermione still went frequently during the summer.
Hermoine glanced over at Mark, the current owner and manager of the place. His dad had founded the bookstore, and Mark had taken over when he passed away. There were no other employees at the shop; the business was so slow, it wasn't necessary. However, Hermione had noticed a hiring sign outside.
"Hello, Miss Granger." Mark greeted.
"Hello." Hermoine replied. "Are you still hiring people?"
"Yeah." Mark answered. "Looking for work?"
Hermoine nodded. "Just for the summer."
"That's fine." Mark told her. "Store probably won't last any longer."
"That's horrible!" Hermione said, shocked. She hadn't realized business was so bad. Mark just shrugged.
"I'm just thankful it lasted this long." He said. "Anyway, see you tomorrow morning."
Hermoine said her goodbyes, and then left the shop.
Hermoine entered the shop the next morning at nine o'clock. She went to the reference section, as Mark had instructed her, and began sorting them. It was easy but dull work, and after ten minutes she heard footsteps behind her. Assuming it was Mark, she asked, "Yes?"
But the person definitely wasn't Mark.
"Hello, Mudblood."