Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
AN - Based on the movie, Devil Wears Prada.
Word count Without AN - 1397
Errand Boy
This wasn't the job that Harry wanted. He sat at the desk he'd been assigned, awaiting instruction as to what he was actually supposed to be doing.
A fashion magazine. He looked down at his distressed jeans (distressed by hard word rather than a designer) and simple t-shirt. What on earth was he doing at a fashion magazine.
The senior assistant, Draco, who'd instructed Harry to call him Malfoy after a rather disgusted sneer, was more the kind you would expect to find in a fashion office. He certainly agreed with Harry's thoughts, since he rolled his eyes every time he looked at Harry.
"Draco! Come here!"
"He means you," Malfoy said, nodding his head at the door. "Tom doesn't bother to learn the newbies names. They never last long enough for him to put the effort in."
Harry sighed but walked to the office, knocking before he entered.
"Why wasn't my coffee here when I arrived?"
Harry blinked. "Is that the start of a joke?"
The editor looked up, glaring at Harry. "Who are you?"
"Harry Potter, sir. The new assistant."
"If you are my new assistant, then it's your job to make sure my coffee is here when I arrive. Go fetch it now."
Harry nodded, barely repressing a glower. "Yes, sir."
He was almost at the door when the editor spoke again. "What on earth are you wearing?"
A month.
Harry had been slaving for the Editor of Fashion Inc Magazine for a month. During that time, he'd been turned into Tom Riddle's personal slave, responsible for coffee runs, dry cleaning runs, and all other manner of errands that had nothing to do with real journalism.
He wanted nothing more than to give up, but so many people told him that it was the chance of a lifetime, the opportunity to get a good character review from one of the hardest men in Magazines was worth doing strange errands for a year.
That's how long he had to stick it out. A year.
"Draco!"
Sighing to himself, Harry rose from his desk, knocking once on the door before he entered Tom's office. When he looked up, Tom frowned.
"I called for Draco. You don't look like Draco."
"You've been calling me Draco for a month, Sir," Harry replied blandly, keeping the exasperation he felt from him tone.
"Tell Draco I want him. And get me a coffee."
Harry nodded, passing along the message as he grabbed his coat and left the office. On his way to the coffee shop that Tom favoured, he checked the messages on his phone.
Five messages from Ginny reminding him that Hermione's birthday party was that evening, and two from Ron reminding him of the same.
Harry sighed. His friends and his girlfriend weren't happy with the current situation either. Harry, the one person they'd all relied on being there since… well, since forever, was currently being hoarded by a devil boss and he'd barely seen any of them.
He knew that Ginny in particular wasn't happy with it. She'd told him often enough.
Getting the coffee for Tom, and one for himself, he returned to the office without replying. With any luck, he'd be at the party on time, and they'd get off his back.
"Draco!"
Harry put his coat on, raising his eyebrow at Malfoy. "Apparently he knows my name now, so he's probably calling for you. You saw what happened this morning."
Malfoy got up and approached the office. "Go and get me a coffee," Harry heard Tom say. "And then I need you to take a cab over to Louis Vuitton and pick up the delivery."
Harry was about to leave when he heard, "Hang on, what are you doing here. I didn't ask for you. Where's… the other one. Dark hair?"
"Potter," Draco hissed. "Get in here."
With a sinking feeling in his chest, Harry entered the office. "Coffee," Tom demanded. "And a pick up at Louis Vuitton. Go."
"I'm finished for the day," Harry argued, despite knowing it wouldn't do any good. Tom looked up from the paper he was reading and snorted.
"Go," he whispered, waving his hand at the door.
"Harry, come in here."
Harry blinked at hearing his own name, but entered the office. Tom gestured him into a seat and Harry sat nervously.
"It's been brought to my attention that you're only planning to stay here for a year in order to gain a recommendation from me at the end of it to enter into a writing job. Is that true?"
Harry nodded cautiously. He wondered who'd told Tom that was his plan.
"You should know, Harry… I appreciate the work you do for me. You're the most competent assistant I've found in years, better than Draco certainly."
"Uh… thank you?"
"You should also be aware, Harry, that I don't particularly relish the idea of losing you. I've rather decided that I'm going to keep you in fact. I always get what I want."
"Sorry, sir," Harry began, but he was cut off.
"Go and see Theodore in the clothing department. I cannot have my assistant seen in what you wear. It sends the wrong impression."
Frowning at the change in subject, Harry took the dismissal and left the office. Had he just been threatened?
"You need to quit, Harry! He's taking over your life!"
"You're never around anymore!"
"You're worth more than being an errand boy!"
Harry rubbed his temple. On the first night he'd had off for three months, the last thing he needed was his girlfriend and friends giving him grief.
"It's just a year," he replied quietly. "And then, I'll get the recommendation I need, and I'll be able to leave. Can we just… have a nice evening, without bringing up Tom Riddle."
They agreed sourly, but the evening was already ruined, and when Harry's phone rang an hour later, and he ran out with half hearted apologies, he knew that they were done.
Sure enough, when he eventually got home, Ginny was still awake, staring into a glass of red wine like it held all the answers. She had a poetry book open on her lap, and he recognised it immediately of one he had gifted her with not long after they'd first got together.
"When you gave me this, you told me that I was your priority. I… I'm not anymore, am I?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Ginny -"
"No. I. Harry, it's not even really about that. It's that I barely see you. How do I have a relationship with someone I don't see? And it's not even just me. Ron and Hermione are your best friends, and you missed Hermione's birthday, you missed Ron's graduation from the police academy, you missed… You've missed three months of everything."
"Ginny -"
"I wouldn't be doing either of us a kindness by waiting it out Harry. I already resent you, and you say that it's going to be like this for another six months. Harry, I can't wait another six months for you to get this done. I'm sorry."
Harry sat by the fountain across from the office, toying with his phone. It had been ringing non-stop since seven am, and he'd yet to answer it two and a half hours later. His year as Tom Riddle's assistant was up.
It had cost him his girlfriend. His friends. His dream job.
He had nothing left.
A black car pulled up beside him, the engine still running as the rear door opened. Tom Riddle stood, leaning against the door.
"I didn't get my coffee this morning," he commented lightly. "Care to explain."
Harry shrugged. "I didn't get the recommendation I needed either."
Tom nodded. "How can I recommend you to somebody else when I need you myself? It seems rather counter-productive on my part."
"I want to write," Harry snarled. "I don't want to be an errand boy for the rest of my life."
Tom snorted. "You have nothing left, Harry. Only me. Only I want you. Get in the car, we've got a meeting to get to."
Harry shook his head. "I won't be an errand boy."
Tom leant down to take Harry's hand, yanking him to his feet. "No. You're not an errand boy…" he leant down to whisper in Harry's ear, "you're so much more than that. Get in the car, Harry."