Painfully Obvious
A/N: Hey! This is my first Fanfiction so any type of review is fine with me – even criticism! Although, I'd prefer if it was constructive, because otherwise it's just mean! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this fic. I'll try my hardest to update whenever possible though I can't make promises; coursework and revision alone manage to take up a hell of a lot of time! But I'm not going to abandon this because it's one of the few things that help me unwind (believe it or not)!
So Please Read and Review and let me know what you think!
Summary: Draco Malfoy: businessman, friend, son, father and…Hermione Granger's romance advisor? How in the name of Merlin did that happen?
Chapter One: A Chance Meeting at an 'Exceptional' Establishment
Those who knew anything about Draco Malfoy knew how stubborn he was. Once he'd set his mind on something then that was it. There was no going back until he got what he wanted; no expense spared and Merlin help anyone who got in his way. Being told that he couldn't do something, or wasn't allowed to do something, didn't sit well with him. Usually when faced with a problem, the young Mr Malfoy would simply chuck as many galleons as needed towards it, before the fire eventually doused out.
But this time, no amount of galleons in the world would help. Draco Malfoy may have been a stubborn man, but if he was stubborn then the council were downright obstinate.
"What the bloody hell do you mean, 'my proposal has been rejected'?" he yelled angrily at his architect who looked as though he'd rather be in the Forbidden Forest alone with no source of protection then here with the intimidating blond man.
"I'm sorry Mr Malfoy, but the council simply won't allow you to build another extension!"
"Why the hell not? It's not like a few more acres is going to hurt anybody!"
"Well, they feel that you would be destroying a considerable amount of the woodland by building on top of it, more than what is prohibited…"
"A considerable amount? I won't even be touching a third of it!" Draco exclaimed, his hand slamming down hard on his heavy oak desk, the sound causing the already on-edge architect to jump a foot in the air. "LISA!"
A moment later and Draco's ditzy secretary appeared at the door looking… frazzled to say the least. Her short auburn hair had been pulled into some sort of bun at the top of her head, but there were strands falling out all over the place. Her sensible skirt and blouse were slightly wrinkled, she had ink stains on her fingers and her thick-rimmed glasses were lopsided on her small face.
"Y-yes, Mr Malfoy?" She squeaked.
"I want you to owl the council immediately and set up a meeting with Mr Nolan. Do not take no for an answer! I will not allow that pathetic excuse for a man to dictate what I can and cannot do! And fix yourself up while you're at it; I will not have my hotel represented by you when you look like you've just rolled out of bed! This is not what I'm paying you for!" He barked angrily.
Liz nodded vigorously before disappearing behind the door. Draco turned to his architect, whose name was Lawrence, and found that he had already stood up.
"And just where do you think you're going?"
"Unfortunately," Lawrence started with a look that clearly contradicted what he'd said. "I have a prior engagement. Let me know how everything goes with the council, and we'll plan accordingly."
Draco glared at the lanky man but nodded and let him show himself out. He wasn't in the mood to pay attention to pleasantries.
He stood up and walked over to the large window in his office that overlooked the front grounds of his hotel; The Emerald Serpent. He'd worked non-stop every day since he'd left Hogwarts to make it into the finest hotel chain in England, devoting every fibre of his being into making it a success.
After the war he'd been determined to stand on his own two feet and not rely on his Father's money. The Malfoy name was no longer feared, but it still held a degree of respect. Respect for being one of the oldest pureblood lines in Wizarding History. Respect for maintaining its traditional principles in modern times. But that hadn't been enough for Draco. He knew that, if he didn't do something, he'd always be associated with negative connotations of the war, regardless of the fact that it was his Father's mistake.
So whilst completing his final year at Hogwarts; an easier task since the threat of impending death had evaporated, Draco began to plan his future. He'd overheard some third year Hufflepuff talking about how his father's hotel business seemed to be making a hell of a lot of money, and the cogs in his head started to turn.
Now with 20 branches all over the country, each complete with over two thousand rooms, a Michelin star restaurant and over three hundred acres of woodland encircling the buildings, The Emerald Serpent hotel was a name known all over, and he was finally recognised as a clever business man rather than a waste of space.
He'd made it this far without a hitch and he'd be damned if there would be one now. He always got his way, and this was no exception. The council could complain as much as they wanted, but there was no way that he was going to change his plans to accommodate them.
"DADDY!"
The sound of his five year old son's high-pitched squeal pulled him out of his thoughts and back to the present. He turned towards the now open door, and bent to lift the younger human being into his arms.
"Dylan! What are you doing here? Uncle Blaise was supposed to drop you off at five?" he exclaimed with a frown as he glanced at the large clock on the wall directly opposite his desk.
"Well," Dylan started before brushing a strand of his blond hair out of his face. "We were at the park and I was on the swings and then Uncle Blaise started talking to a nice lady who was also at the swings and then she walked away and Uncle Blaise told me that we had to come and see you because he had to get ready for a date. What's a date Daddy?"
Draco inwardly cursed at his friend's lack of tact, though wasn't really surprised. This was just like the time when he'd said that Millicent Bulstroad had a nice "arse" when Theo was two. It had taken precisely five large ice-cream sundaes and Merlin only knew how many chocolate frogs before the young Malfoy had finally dropped the subject.
"Um, a date is a boring thing that grown-ups have to go to sometimes." Draco answered with the most sincere look he could muster.
"Why do grown-ups have to go if it's boring?"
Damn it!
"Well, you know how you and I have to go food shopping every week in Diagon Alley?"
Dylan nodded in understanding, his dirty blond hair flopping about on his head.
"Well, we have to go otherwise we won't have any food to eat, but it's still really boring…"
"So, Uncle Blaise has to go on his date or else he'll starve?"
"No…yes! Yes, that's what I'm saying!" Draco said whilst shifting Dylan in his arms. He'd find out the truth in a few years time and by then he wouldn't even remember this conversation. Genius.
"Nice explanation Draco! I'm very impressed!"
Draco turned his attention to his friend standing by his office door and glared icily at him. Blaise just grinned in response.
"Whoever she is I hope she's worth it," Draco said whilst plopping Theo down into his big leather chair. He smiled affectionately as his son struggled to shift into a comfortable kneeling position in order to see over the top of the desk. For five years old, he was quite a small child.
"Oh, I think she is! Honestly, Draco, believe me when I say that she is beyond gorgeous and…"
"Save it Zabini! I've lost track of the amount of women you've called gorgeous and none of them have lasted longer than two weeks before their beauty faded!"
Blaise grinned in response.
"Whatever Malfoy. Sorry to drop you in it though."
"Don't worry about it. Not much is going on anyway, bloody accountants. I'l just take the rest of the day off."
"Good idea! I'll floo you tomorrow and let you know how everything goes," Blaise said whilst waving goodbye to Dylan.
"If you must," Draco replied in a tired voice before Blaise apparated. There was a time when he was like Blaise; careless and responsibility-free. Part of him missed the simplicity of it all, but a greater part of him appreciated the life he had now.
He turned his attention back to his son and smiled to himself. Out of all his achievements (and he had quite a few) Dylan was definitely the one he was most proud of.
Four years ago, at the ripe old age of twenty one, Draco had married his pregnant girlfriend Astoria Greengrass. It was a forced marriage based, not on love, but on what was morally right and acceptable. They'd stayed together for the full nine months, but unfortunately after Dylan's birth, Astoria developed post-natal depression. The best doctors were called in and she was given the best treatment and help, but in the end it had all been too much for her. She committed suicide leaving Draco to raise Dylan single-handed.
During these troubling times, Draco had gotten closer to his father again. There had been a period, after the end of the war, when they'd kept a firm distance from each other. Draco knew, to an extent, the guilt that his father felt, but didn't want to get sucked back into a world of empty promises. He'd blocked it out and concentrated firmly on his work, though still kept in touch with his mother. If this bothered Lucius he certainly didn't show it. And in some ways, that had really bothered Draco. He'd always wanted his father's love, but was never exposed to it openly because of his stupid pride. And apparently not even the threat of losing his son forever could squash it.
But when Astoria had gotten pregnant, Lucius had helped out a lot. He'd counselled and advised, but never taken over. He'd explained to Draco that marriage was an option, but not a necessity, and Draco had appreciated it a lot. He'd also helped immensely before and after Astoria's death, and took his role of a grandfather very seriously. Their relationship hadn't healed completely, but whatever antidote that was being used certainly helped.
"Come on mate, time to go home!" Draco exclaimed whilst lifting Dylan out of his chair and setting him down gently on the ground.
"Have you finished working now Daddy?" Dylan asked whilst fiddling with the laces on his shoes.
"Yes I have, and luckily for you I have the rest of the day off. What do you want to do?"
"Uuuum…can we go play Quidditch?" Dylan asked, dropping his laces instantly and smiling up at his father with a hopeful smile.
Draco grinned in response.
"Sure buddy, and then we'll go down to the Leaky Cauldron and I'll buy you a fire-whiskey on the rocks!"
Dylan pouted but didn't press the matter any further. He knew that Quidditch was one topic that his prized puppy-dog expression was worthless on.
They walked hand in hand from Draco's office through to the reception area; Dylan chattering at break-neck speed and Draco trying not to let his mind wander off onto other topics as it usually did when he 'conversed' with his son. As they walked down a flight of stairs and along a corridor Draco took mental notes of any little imperfections along the way; traces of dust, misplaced items etcetera. He treated his staff well and paid them more than what was required, only expecting satisfactory results in return he. He ran a tight ship and had no time for slackers.
As they approached the reception he felt Dylan's tiny hand leave his. He watched as his son ran towards the front desk and on to the lap of Nancy Gardener; The Emerald Serpent's main senior receptionist. At fifty-four years of age, Nancy was Draco's most loyal and trusted member of staff. She prided herself in not looking a day over forty with her shoulder-length brown hair, soft, clear skin with hardly any wrinkles, and a tall, slim body. She'd been with Draco since the start of the business and was a friend, mother, grandmother and employer rolled into one. As Draco had no actual relationship with his own grandparents he cherished her greatly.
"Hello aunty Nancy!" Dylan greeted as he settled down onto her lap. Nancy stopped writing and smiled lovingly at him.
"Hello cupcake! And how is the young Master Malfoy this afternoon?"
"I'm ok!" Dylan chirped, happy at the attention he received from her. "Daddy said that we can go wherever I want today, but I don't know where I want to go!"
Nancy looked up and saw Draco walking towards them, his eyes darting around the reception area. She smiled. The fact that the hotel had already won so many awards and critical acclaim for being the cleanest, friendliest, comfiest and most sophisticated establishment in all of England did little to stop him from making sure that everything ran smoothly at all times.
"Why don't you ask him to take you to Honeydukes? I hear they have some amazing new chocolates on sale. Or, how about that new toyshop in Diagon Alley; you could get yourself a new broom?" Nancy continued while playing with his hair. The young Malfoy had gorgeous hair; it came up to his shoulder, was a rare shade of dirty blond and was so soft that you could barely feel it. It framed his little face perfectly and added to his cuteness.
"Don't encourage him," Draco said playfully as he leaned against the glass counter, a small frown on his face.
"Pleeeeeeeeease can we go Daddy? I'll be ever so good! Please, please, please?"
Draco rolled his eyes and looked pointedly at Nancy who gave him a look of pure innocence as a response.
"Now look what you've done!"
"Draco, the boy is five years old! You're going to have to think of activities to stimulate him. Those toy brooms are completely safe and have been tested many times! Would I ever suggest something that could harm my favourite boy in the whole wide world?" Draco fought the urge to smirk as Dylan beamed at the last comment, knowing that she was referring to him.
"Fine, I'll take him. But if anything goes wrong I'm blaming you!"
Nancy ignored him and gave Dylan a chocolate from the bowl she kept behind the counter. Draco smiled and turned to the entrance where he saw a girl shaking hands with a rather tall man in smart dress robes. She was wearing a black pencil skirt that stopped just under her knees, a tight white blouse that showed a bit of cleavage and three-inch stiletto heels. Her whiskey coloured hair was tied up in a neat knot framing her heart shaped face; not a strand out of place. He didn't know why, but there was something about her that seemed…familiar? He squinted his eyes a little in an attempt to try and make sense of it.
"That's Hermione Granger; a lovely young lady actually. She just finished a business meeting with the head of St Mungos about some sort of funding. The poor lamb was so nervous when she came in – reapplied her make up three times! Still, it seems to have gone well!"
Draco turned to face Nancy who was giving him a knowing smile, before processing what she'd just said.
"Wait, did you just say, Hermione Granger?"
Nancy nodded a curious look on her face. She watched as Draco turned back towards the entrance and ran out the door. What on earth had gotten into him?
Draco opened the heavy glass door and stopped abruptly as he saw Hermione wave the smartly dressed man off as he apparated. Once he'd disappeared he smirked as she undid her hair and ran a hand through the soft curls that were cascading down her back - a far c ry from the bushy nest that he could remember. She then proceeded to take her shoes off, and he got a rather nice view of her arse as she bent down. She slipped a little and fell over on to the gravel.
"Alright there Granger?"
Upon hearing the familiar drawl of the man she despised with every ounce of her being, Hermione bolted straight up into an awkward standing position considering one half of her was three inches higher than the other.
"Bugger, I was praying you wouldn't be here!" She said more to herself than to him.
"Well I can see why you would think that, you know, seeing as I own this place and all."
Hermione rolled her eyes and let her eyes familiarise themselves with his face. The famous blond hair and striking grey eyes were still there, though his face had…matured. He didn't look old, more grown-up with a hint of boyish charm that twinkled in his eyes. The fact that he was dressed in tailored black dress robes that seemed to fit him perfectly was dually noted, and she fought hard to stop a blush from creeping onto her skin when she felt his eyes on her.
"Believe me, had I been in charge of organising the meeting I was just in, this would not be my choice of venue!"
Draco frowned at her; so much for thinking that her personality had left along with the mop of uncontrollable tresses she used to harbour.
"And why not? Surely you aren't the type of person to stay away from an establishment simply because of your own personal feelings towards the owner?"
Hermione glared at him.
"Normally no, but I make a special exception for you Malfoy."
Draco glared back at her, though couldn't find it in himself to say something cutting. She was still know-it-all Granger to him, but something had changed. He no longer thought of her as a Mudblood, but she still annoyed him to no end. The fact that she was a muggle-born hadn't been the only reason as to why he detested her, but it had made a damn good excuse. Why was he finding it so hard to think of something hurtful to say?
"Well as…pleasant as this has been," she said snapping him out of his thoughts. "I have to get going."
Draco stared at her.
"And why is that Granger? Wait, let me guess, umm, you have to go and get ready for a hot date?"
Hermione suddenly found her skirt very interesting and began to smooth out any invisible wrinkles. Draco quirked an eyebrow at her in surprise.
"Wait, am I right? Does Gryffindor's prized bookworm have a date?"
Hermione raised her head and flicked her hair back.
"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I do."
Draco smirked at her offence at his remark. It was nice to know that he could still rile her up after all these years.
"Well in that case you'd better hurry. It's going to take a hell of a long time to make you remotely attractive to any one!"
Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but thought better of it at the last minute. Instead she decided on pulling her wand out of her pocket and apparating away, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.
