Please read and review. If I owned any of these characters or ideas, I would be out spending my piles of gold and subsequently too busy to write what follows here:
Raking his blonde hair distractedly, Draco Malfoy didn't bother looking up when he heard his office door open. "Morning Blaize," he grunted, eyes still on the paper in front of him. "Closer to afternoon, but I suppose for you, this is a bit early" responded a cool, female voice. His head jerked up with a start, eyes immediately narrowing as he registered the exotic and currently cross features of Parvati Patil. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you," he began before Parvati cut across "Clearly. Look – I'm obviously not here paying you a social call so I figure I'll get straight to the point. I'm also applying… Right. Well. Have a good day." Without so much as closing his door, she breezed out of his office leaving his head reeling as he listened to her high-heels click down the hall.
Shaking his head as if to clear it, Draco marched to the fireplace and hurled a fist of Floo Powder into the fire. Impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the flames to turn green signaling that he could place his call, he wondered whether it was too early for a stiff drink. "Stepping out already, mate?" Draco whirled around as, for the second time that morning, someone entered his office without him noticing. "Where have you been?" Draco huffed, "I was just getting ready to Floo you." Zabini gave Malfoy a significant look, closing the door as he maneuvered himself into his usual seat across from Malfoy's desk. "Actually, I was doing a bit of recon for you. I heard a rumor at work that a certain Parvati Patil-"
"is also applying to be Editor? Yeah. She just strutted in here and told me herself. Bit of a nasty shock. I was expecting you." Blaise let out a low whistle murmuring something that sounded distinctly like "Bloody Gryffindors."
It hadn't been easy readjusting to life after the War. All the wealth and prestige that had come to define Slytherin House suddenly meant nothing. If anything, it made it even more difficult to secure gainful employment as Slytherins now faced widespread discrimination. Draco had been one of the few lucky ones. The Parkinson family had been patrons of Witch Weekly for generations. Both he and Pansy received entry-level jobs upon taking their leave of Hogwarts. However, even four years later, there were those, like Parvati, who still treated Draco with deep mistrust.
Heaving a sigh, Draco vented exasperatedly, "On the one hand, I get it. I truly do. I treated the lot of them awfully and I was a right little git. And yet, it's been four years since my mother made headlines aiding in the rescue of Potter and another two since my article."
Zabini rolled his eyes. "What?" Draco demanded. "It was heralded in the Prophet as a 'daring expose.' I received an award from the Muggle-born Rights Council. It won 7 Wizarding Journalism awards." "Draco, you went undercover as a student at a Muggle boarding school for four months. Big deal. If I remember correctly, you spent a good deal of that time partying, shagging Muggle girls, and making shit grades."
Malfoy fired back, "Four months, mate. Four months. No magic. And you'd make shit grades too if they made you study some Shakespeare bloke and learn real math. You know what? No. We're not arguing about this again. We have more important things to discuss."
"Patil, you mean?" Blaise asked.
"Exactly. How is it that you manage the Witch Weekly Owlery and are just now discovering this?"
After his article's big debut, Draco received tenure as a staff writer and the influence that accompanies writing the most widely-read article in Witch Weekly history. Taking everyone by surprise, he requested nothing, not even a larger office, save an entry-level job for his friend Zabini. The owlery was an obvious pick for his friend. The heart of Witch Weekly, all memos and gossip passed through Zabini's capable hands. This allowed Blaise to pass valuable information on to Malfoy in his quest to become the first male Editor of Witch Weekly upon Rita Skeeter's retirement. He had carefully calculated his rise for the past two years, systematically eliminating opponents over time.
"This Patil factor is a curve ball. I need to be the only applicant. Skeeter will look for any excuse not to choose me. 'Never hire a man to do a Witch's job I always say.' What bollocks."
Zabini nodded his head, scratching under his nose as he thought. "There's nothing for it Drake. You're just going to have to compete for this one fair and square."
"What am I, a Hufflepuff now?" Draco spluttered at his friend's proposal.
Blaise continued, "The interview is tomorrow. As you constantly remind us, you've more than earned it. You're the best staff writer on paper."
Draco considered this turn of events. "All right. Fine. But if I don't get it, I'm outta here. I refuse to write another bloody 'Male Perspective on Love Potions' or 'Why Your Man Should De-Gnome Your Garden' piece. It's humiliating. The great Draco Malfoy reduced to this."