"Yo, boss!" I heard Davis yell. I stifled an exasperated sigh and smiled. "Yes?" I was heading toward my office—I had some important things to do today. Will Davis was an intern for Magical Industry; a magazine for the Wizarding world. And I was the Boss, lucky me. "I have some ideas for the next M.I. issue, would you take a look?" his brown eyes were eager, and yet so many other things were eager about him, too. "I'll have Finnigan bring them to my desk later." Davis faltered, his eagerness fading. "Ms. Granger?" he asked.
"Yes, Will?" I challenged, my brow arched. The poor boy gulped. I sighed, then. "I'm sorry, Davis. I have a lot of things to get done today. I will check them when I—wait a moment," a thought came to me. "Go to the 5th floor. Office number 544. Ms. Lovegood will look at them for you. She will return them to me when she is done. If your ideas, let's say…aren't flattering, she will discard them." He looked like he was about to cry. "But I am sure they're lovely." I continued. He walked away solemnly.
I finally sat at my desk. Stress pounding on my shoulders. A pop startled me. "Oh, didn't mean 'a frighten you." A glimmer of green flame distinguished out of the fireplace and out of it was a tall, slender, middle-aged man. "Oh, it's all right, Mr. Shunpike." I oozed sarcastically—he missed the sardonic tone in my voice. He genuinely grinned. "What is the meaning of you popping into my office all of a sudden?" I questioned him.
"There is a meeting—non-emergency—but I came to inform you that your presence is required." He said. "Where is the meeting?" "At Malfoy Enterprises." He answered quickly. I faltered. "What does this meeting consists of?" I inquired in my business-like voice. "Consists of, Ms.?" He seemed confused. "Why is this meeting be adjourned?" I corrected. Mr. Shunpike understood then. "Your magazine, Ms. Granger."
"Welcome, Ms. Granger." The secretary in the front desk greeted me; she wore big, plastic glasses and had wiry blonde hair, wearing a bright blue dress. I just gave her a nod and headed to the elevator. Malfoy's office was on the 11th floor, I noticed with agitation. When I reached office number 321 with the plaque Malfoy—underneath read: The Boss. I snorted a little, giving a slight knock. "Enter." came a slick voice.
I opened the door to a massive room; a big black, leather chair behind a cherry wood desk, paper strewn all over it. A painting of a rogue knight was hanging on the wall behind it; he was balancing the tip of sword on his finger, failing exceedingly. "Hello." said the same slick voice; I wanted to throw up. "Draco," I sneered. "Oh, excuse me. Mr. Malfoy." He was wearing a dark gray suit, his blonde hair was strewn—no longer slicked back (must say, it suited him).
I looked around—it was only us two. I was confused. "I thought this was a meeting?" He smirked. "It is. No one else is required. You look lovely, by the way." He added, chagrin. I rolled my eyes; of course I looked better than I did when I was at Hogwarts—that was six years ago.
My hair was straighter, yes. I was a little taller, yeah. And I may have grown into my own skin. But this was Draco Malfoy. The slimy ferret.
"Get to the point. I have an appointment to make." I snapped. His brows rose. "I'm sure they can wait." "I'm sure they can't." I remarked. He didn't falter—he could take some hits. "I want Magical Industry to collaborate with Malfoy Enterprises." He said finally.
I wasn't expecting that. "Explain more." I said shortly. He took a few steps toward me. I was standing in the middle of the room. His hands were dangling at his sides. "Let me correct myself: I want my business and your magazine to interconnect; it'll be good for my company, seeing that it is a model agency and you can put my models in your magazine." He explained.
"Excuse me?!" I was flabbergasted. There was no way I was going to work with this git. He grinned. "You heard right, Granger. Partners?" He stuck his hand out, waiting for me to shake it. I looked at it as if it was some kind of poisonous fungus. "Absolutely not." "Explain. Please." He said, no longer smiling.
"Why would I work with you?" I hissed. He shook his head in disbelief. "You've got to forget the past, Granger. That was then, this is now. Let it go." He almost screamed. I thought for a moment. "If the past is the past, then call me by my name, Malfoy." I challenged, my mouth in a tight smile. He laughed humorlessly. "You're ridiculous."
I humphed significantly. "That's what I thought." and I turned on my heel. "Wait!" he grabbed my shoulder before I was out the door. "What?" I shrieked, surprised at the sudden touch. "Please." He was going to beg? I saw the same eagerness in his eyes that I saw in Davis's.
"I'll think about it." I told him finally. "I'll take it. But don't make me wait too long, Granger." And he smiled that Malfoy smile.
It was a long day. I threw my wristlet down on the table in my kitchen of my apartment; white walls closing me in all around—I need to paint, so tired of the white-wash, it does nothing to relax me. My entire apartment was bland—apart from my brilliant blue sofa in the living area; everything else was black and white like a photo in a photography mag. It was nice, though, fancy, but it did nothing for me.
My cell started to ring—yes, us magical folk have upgraded a bit; I didn't care much for it, but I needed it for my job. "Granger speaking." I answered solemnly. "This is Mrs. Lestrange. Do not be frightened, I'm not Bellatrix." My heart sped a little. "Who are you?" I demanded. She laughed a little, it was surprisingly soft, but had an edge to it. "Roxanne Lestrange."
I was confused. "Who?" I asked again. "You wouldn't know me," She answered. "But I know you." My back stiffened. "And how is that?" I inquired.
I could hear a hint of happiness in her voice. "We're family!" she exclaimed. I was completely stunned, stock-still. I thought I was going to pass out. But I didn't; I laughed instead.
"Okay, joke's over. 'Bye now." I said. Her tone turned serious. "I'm not joking." "Yeah, okay," I replied sardonically. "I'm going to go now. Don't call back." "But—" I hung up the phone before she could call back.
Whew. That was strange.
The next few days were very busy; Magical Industries was in quite a riot-the news broke out that Malfoy Enterprises wanted to merge and the company was split in half; I was part of the percentage that disagreed. My company is running just fine. If the Slimy git wants to seduce his way into my magazine, he's going to have to try harder. My head is pounding with unneeded information, with all this squabbling about I could go for a Firewhiskey right about now.
Today is my off day, thank Merlin, and I am spending it with myself and a good book. I've no calls since that last one, my phone got smashed to bits when Davis ran into me the other day-which I don't mind, at all. I really don't quite understand why a Wizard would re-invent a Muggle object and progress it in the Wizarding world. We do just fine without those ridiculous devices.
As I'm halfway through Witches & Warlocks, a faint pop! is heard outside my door, not a moment later, a knock. I reluctantly go to the door. "Ginny!" I exclaim. "Wasn't expecting you till Saturday." I added, slightly confused yet glad to see my friend. "I know, I know, but it's been awhile since I've seen you. We need to catch up." she explained, walking inside; her red hair flowing behind her, which has gotten longer, I notice. I shut the door.
Ginny takes a seat on the sofa and I summon some tea with a flick of my wand, and sat down next to her. The blue-white tea tray lands softly on the black coffee table in front of us, carrying the warm goodness inside two mugs. Ginny immediately starts chattering. "Ron misses you-" I could feel my cheeks flush. "so does mum and everyone else. Of course, I'm not at home anymore, considering all that has happened, but they Owled me the other day and they are persistent that you come over for Dad's celebration of the becoming an Auror-" My jaw drops. "I know, I know," she shakes her head. "He's into all that Muggle nonsense but he has officially stepped up at the Ministry." she finished, I sip on my tea.
"When is the celebration?" I ask. "Tomorrow." Ginny answers. I visibly pout. "I've work tomorrow." She frowns, but her eyes show determination. "You're the boss, right? You could bail." she said with a smile. I sigh. I could bail, but there's so much to do. "I'll see what I can do." I finally tell her. She smiles triumphantly. "After all, it's been months since I've been to the Burrow." I add with a grin.
Ginny and I girl-talked for over an hour. My off day has been pretty laid back and I've enjoyed it very much. A tawny owl swoops in from an open window, silencing our conversation for a bit. The owl drops a letter in my lap. I look at it hesitantly.
"Who's it from?" Ginny asked curiously. My brows furrow. "Not sure," I answer honestly. "That particular owl has never brought me anything before." I tell her. I pick up the letter. "Oooh, it could be a Secret Admirer." she counters mysteriously. I laugh.
"Have you got Nargles in your brain, making you all fuzzy?" I question jokingly, but all the time serious; I know Nargles don't exist, but it was just a response that made sense to me: who would like me? Ginny snickered. "I bet loads of blokes do. Really." she replies, her tone serious. "I don't know, Gin'. Seems ominous." I say skeptically. Her brow creases.
"Is there something that you are not telling me?" she asks. I silently curse myself: Good one, Hermione. I sigh in defeat under her glare and start. "I got a rather weird call a few days ago." she nods, silently urging me to proceed. "From A LeStrange." Her eyes widened.
"No!" she gasps. I nod. "Bellatrix is dead, though." she counters. I nod, again, "It wasn't her. It was a was a woman called by Roxanne. She-she said, she told me that we're-we're family." I explain nervously. My friend shakes her head. "That can't be true." I nod, yet again. She gives me a look of sympathy.
"What're you going to do?" she inquires. I shrug. "Ignore her, I reckon." And Ginny silently agreed,
It took me awhile to open the letter. I was nervous. Afraid. What if it was from her? I shuddered.
There's no way that I can be related to them, not the family that belongs to whom carved Mudblood in my arm. There has to be an explanation, and there's obviously no facts leading me toward the Lestranges'. I sat on my sofa, there was a fire crackling in the fireplace and it was utterly quiet. I was alone. Utterly alone, staring down at the letter on the table.
Knock, knock.
The sound startled me. I half-ran toward the door. I opened it slowly, sticking my head out the door. My eyes widened with fear and my heart plummeted. Stood before me was an exact clone of Bellatrix Lestrange.
*Roxanne Lestrange is an OC (original character, whom belongs to me.) All Known characters belong to J.K. Rowling :)