Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I will not infringe on any of it's numerous copyrights. I make no money from this exercise (indeed I loose it for the loss of time, internet connection, and psychiatrist bills) and will inform you when any lyrics (doubtful, though), quotes or concepts are used.
Summary: Non-magic. Rich-boy Draco Malfoy is furious to find his cousin Orion's 12 billion pound company (the one he was all set to inherit) has gone to a nobody named 'Harry Potter'. Now he's stuck with a school dropout who likes chalk drawing on the pavement
Warnings: Slash - DMHP. Swearing. Unrealistic amounts of money being thrown around the place. (Bad writing…)
A/N: My first fic on so be sweet. I'm in the middle of my final year at school, so unless I get a lot of encouragement, I won't be updating. I just really liked the story-line – it just hit me (yes, I've been watching too much Meine Liebe and Ouran High School Host Club… I wanted to write a filthyrich!Draco in… so sue me!
Oh, also, I am looking for a Beta. If you are interested then please leave a note in your review!
Constellation Inc.
By H.K.Nadia
A Harry Potter fanfiction.
"You're making a mistake." Draco Malfoy said to his cousin as he tapped his fingers against the limo's window angrily. "This man – whoever he is – this man is a mistake." The rational part of Draco was ashamed to find his voice shaking slightly. In response his anger, his tapping became more violent.
Draco's pin-straight fine blonde hair had fallen into a curtain across his face as he leant against the window, his eyes flicking back and forth at the fast speed. One hand was clenched into a fist while the other continued to knock compulsively upon the bullet-proof glass. The nineteen year old was just under six feet tall when standing straight, as he always did, and his long legs were crossed elegantly before him. The all-black ensemble he wore, black suit, shirt and tie, gave him a sense of sophistication that left no doubt to anyone that he was a man of wealth.
Across from him, Sirius Black snorted and shook his head in agreement.
"You don't need to tell me that, Draco. But it's out of my hands. Old man Orion specifically wanted it this way. The bloody bank is only giving the rest of us our lot if this Harry Potter gets his." Sirius's scowl was enough to give even Draco pause. Sirius may just be as pissed off as he was, Draco realised.
Draco turned from his observation of the passing scenery to consider his cousin silently.
The man was going on thirty-nine, Draco remembered, secretly hoping that when he was thirty-nine he'd look at young and vibrant as his cousin did. Sirius's hair was so black it sometimes seemed blue. When Draco had turned thirteen he had cut his hair to imitate his favourite cousin's long style. He had kept the cut for three years; only changing to his own 'signature' look on his sixteenth birthday. It amused Draco to find himself constantly compared to Sirius – according to their family they had almost identical faces. This was excusing, of course, the fact that Sirius tanned like he was a natural Caribbean and Draco reacted to sun in a similar way to a snowball.
Sirius may have looked like an escaped model, but the man was the shrewdest person Draco knew. Lucius, Draco's own father, did not even compare to Sirius's pure genius when it came to tricking, deceiving and getting his own way. As the two of them worked closely at Constellation Incorporated, Draco knew exactly just how conniving Sirius could be, if he really set his mind to it.
But not even Sirius could find them a way out of Cousin Orion's mess. Remembering that Sirius had spoken, Draco grunted his acknowledgment of the sad facts and turned back to stare moodily out of the window. He watched the grass by the side of the road whiz by. It was about four in the afternoon and the sun was preparing to sink beyond the horizon. They had been driving for almost an hour, and Draco assumed that they would soon arrive.
The two cousins were on their way to a house in Little Winging, Surrey. Although to be honest, Draco would rather have been going to get his leg chopped off, or to test out Chinese water torture, or perhaps towards his own funeral.
Their quest was simple: they were going to tell 'Harry Potter' about Cousin Orion's Big Mistake. The Big Mistake being, of course, that in his will he had left this Harry Potter a company estimated at twelve billion pounds. Draco wrinkled his nose a little as he realised that it probably wouldn't seem like such a bad mistake to this Potter bloke, but he was sure once Cousin Orion realised what he'd done, he'd be doing revolutions in his grave.
Draco turned back to Sirius with a snarl, unable to stop his mind from returning back to the same word he had been thinking about since he'd first stepped out of the lawyer's office: 'Why?!' Sirius seemed to be having the same problem, because he shook his head and swore.
Neither of them had been given much of a chance to come to terms with the shocking news: they had come straight from the reading of the will and into the limo and on their way. Their lawyer had been sympathetic, but ultimately unconcerned. Cousin Orion had always had a fondness for his lawyer, a small and practical man who he claimed was; 'Jewish all the way down to the holes in his socks.' Draco assumed this meant he was trustworthy and dependable, because it was always said with a certain fondness.
He only wished he'd been allowed a few hours to compose himself. Or perhaps a few years. The shock of losing the company was equivalent to the shock of accidentally misplacing twelve billion pounds. That, Draco knew, was a lot of shock.
"Bloody and bleeding and fucking hell! If only Aunt Lucretia had have been an Uncle," Sirius hissed, "she only died when you were twelve, Draco, and she wouldn't have given the equivalent of twelve billion pounds to some snot-nosed little commoner from the country!" it seemed as though the poor man couldn't put enough emphasis on the sum of money he was not inheriting, as he banged his fist into the seat besides him. "For God's sake Draco! He was my bleeding father!!"
Neither of them spoke and the scenery rushed past outside.
Draco tried to imagine what Harry Potter would look like, but couldn't.
The bank had confirmed that Harry Potter was of age and could rightfully and legally inherit all that Orion (the bloody bastard) had left for him, but other than the fact that he was over eighteen, the two cousins knew nothing about him. Draco imagined he would be about thirty, probably married to some rather unimpressive woman, and beginning to go bald. Maybe he dyed his hair. Or had dentures. Or needed Viagra to get It up.
His grin at the thought was a little too vicious.
The only explanation the lawyer had given to the unexpected turn of events had been a tiny mention of an 'incident'. If Draco had read enough novels in his lifetime, it was for the sole purpose of realising that the 'incident' had most likely been some event where this Potter bloke saved Orion's life, and feeling indebted to the man, his second cousin twice removed had felt the need to give him several lifetime's worth of money.
Draco's teeth gritted once more: in the last will (the one they had all been expecting to be read), Orion had given Draco a lot more than he'd received today! A couple of billion more, in fact!
"I used to know a Potter once, you know." Sirius suddenly spoke from across him, looking out the window with a frown drawn across his forehead. Draco was unhappy to see that Sirius was moving onto the 'accepting' phase: his cousin was now looking thoughtful rather than furious.
"I don't care." Draco spat, unwilling to let go of his anger.
"We went to school together, way back when." Sirius continued, "Actually, we were pretty close. He got into the academy on a scholarship, of course, he wouldn't have been able to afford it otherwise. Popular with the ladies though, you would have liked him, Draco. Dark and mysterious and all that, although he was quite the charmer. Never found out what happened to him."
"Shut the hell up and let me wallow in self-pity."
Sirius finally looked away from the window and focused on Draco, who was still sulking. His face darkened once more. "It's not as if you need the money, Draco. Neither of us do." He seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as the angry blonde.
"Need the money?! Need the bloody money?!"Draco exploded, turning away from the window again to glower furiously at Sirius, "I didn't need it! No one ever needs money, for God's sake! But Sirius, I fucking well wanted it!!"
Draco had wanted it because, like any other person, he liked being rich. He liked the newspaper articles and the mansion he lived in and the clothes that he wore and the ability to get whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. Draco had been born into a society where money replaced water with French Champaign in crystal flutes and scandals could be covered up with the flashing of a credit card. And he was used to it.
The fact that the families largest source of income, other than interest, had been given away was more than a loss of billions: it was a personal affront. Who was this Harry Potter to be more worthy of his cousin's money than he?
Had it been Sirius who inherited the whole company for himself, leaving none to Draco, he still would not have been half so angry.
The fact that some complete unknown had gotten it rubbed Draco in all the wrong ways. It was bloody charity work.
Sirius had sighed at his outburst and was flicking through the radio channels. If they were lucky it would take a few days for the information about the company to leek to the press, but once it did there would be quite the controversy. Draco frowned. He didn't know what Cousin Orion had been thinking; but he doubted very much that his actions, asides from everything else, would be a good business move. Suddenly having a man they'd never heard of as CEO would not boost the confidence of their shareholders.
If he did decide to sell the company, then there would be hell to pay. Draco's anger, temporarily dissolved as he had been considering his cousins actions relatively rationally, returned full force. He slammed a fist against the bullet-proof glass window.
"I'm going to go to that place where all the black magic is – Transylvania – and I'm going to learn how to bring people back to life with all that voodoo stuff. And then do you know what I'm going to do, Sirius?"
"Bring Father back to life?" Sirius drawled, his eyes hooded as he watched Draco spit his words out angrily.
"I'm going to bring Cousin Orion back to life." Draco continued as if Sirius hadn't spoken. "And then I'm going to cut off a finger at a time until he sees the error of his ways and splits the company between us two and orders Harry-bloody-Potter out of the UK."
Draco sat, glowering at some object behind Sirius's head, panting. Sirius brought a hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, as though he had suddenly formed a splitting headache. Draco didn't care if he was getting sick of his complaining – Draco had a right to complain – he'd just lost twelve billion dollars for God's sake!!
"We are united in our loathing of my Father, yes Draco, but there is nothing that we can do about it now. Other than suck the hell up to this Harry Potter character, that is." Sirius paused and gave Draco a snide look, "Especially easy for you, and your… deviant tastes."
If Draco hadn't looked ready to commit homicide before, he did now.
"I wouldn't have a relationship with Harry Potter even if he swore to just give me the bloody company!"
Sirius snorted. "I would." He laughed bitterly, "and I'm not even gay!"
Draco sniffed angrily, although his temper seemed to have diminished slightly at Sirius's joking tone. He shook his head, seriously considering it. "Don't get me wrong, cousin, I know how much that company is worth! But if I slept with him just to get the money I'd be just like some common whore off the street."
Sirius leant forward and held up his index finger, as though proving a point, smiling winningly.
"You'd be an awfully expensive whore, Draco!"
Draco slapped him, but smiled. "He probably doesn't swing my way anyhow. And twelve billion pounds or not, I'm never going to sleep with a man who's more than twenty years my senior. Oh God, twelve billion pounds. I'd be mad not to sleep with him, if he offered it."
Sirius laughed, sounding honestly amused for the first time since they'd received the news.
"Oh but Draco, you're young yet, and unlike many in the business world… you have morals!" he patted Draco on the knee in a fatherly fashion, just as the limo pulled to a stop. The dark-haired man brightened and turned to look out the window. "Ahh! It appears we have arrived! Now… Now we get to meet the infamous Mister Potter!"
Draco could barely suppress his groan.
Sirius tapped on the glass partition. "Swidhelm, we're here?" he asked. The glass rolled down to expose the wrinkled face of the chauffer, who nodded at the question. "Very well." Sirius muttered under his breath.
Draco found himself sneaking glances out the window, wondering which of the houses along the street the mysterious Mr. Potter owned. They all looked so very small. The side of the street he was sitting on had the odd numbers, which meant the house they were looking for must be on the other side.
The door opened and Sirius stepped out smartly. Draco sniffed arrogantly, released his clenched fists, and followed.
The street he emerged on was very strange indeed. The houses along both ends all looked identical, rather like they had been mass-produced. Their only variations were the cars parked in their respective drive-ways. Draco's experienced eye noticed that there wasn't an interesting motor vehicle amongst them. Nothing like his newest car; the Lamborghini Murcielago Roadster, Draco thought with a smirk.
The house that Sirius was approaching looked exactly like its fellows, and any hope Draco had held was extinguished. The type of man who would pay money for a house like the one before him, was not the type of man Draco enjoyed dealing with. This Harry Potter looked more and more like he was going to cause bigger and bigger problems.
With a curt nod to Swidhelm, who closed the door behind him, Draco followed his cousin to the doorstep.
As he neared the house, his face blanched at the sound of arguing from within. Sirius was waiting for him on the doorstep, ready to ring the buzzer. Draco mounted the brick steps with a sneer firmly in place: no matter how much money this man was about to inherit, he didn't have the history. He would never truly be an elite – he could only be a lower class 'bourgeoisie' gentleman. Draco knew in his heart of hearts that he would always be superior to Harry Potter, even if the man had more money than him (which would only be possible if he looked after the company very well indeed, Draco was the sole heir to the Malfoy fortune, after all.)
Under the veranda eave Draco grabbed Sirius's arm before he could ring the buzzer and cocked his head towards the house, raising an eyebrow sardonically at the loud shouting coming from inside. The sound of something shattering made the both of them wince. The voices from inside were loud enough to be heard, and Draco indicated that they should do a little eavesdropping.
"…can't expect us to pay for you forever, boy! You're eighteen, and you're lucky that you've stayed here for this long!" a deep voice was spluttering furiously, accompanied by the sound of thumping, as though a large man was chasing something.
Another voice, clearly belonging to a younger male, replied just as angrily. "That's only because the fucking police bring me back every time I run away!" Sirius was looking about ready to commit suicide at the possibility that a man from such a dysfunctional family was going to own his fathers company, but Draco had a sudden blossoming of hope.
He tapped his cousin on the arm and leant in to whisper to him.
"If Potter's been abusing his son then he can't legally inherit!"
Sirius nodded, but he was looking unhappy all the same. There was another crash and the sound of the younger voice swearing loudly. Sirius winced again and moved to ring the buzzer. Draco grabbed his arm again and motioned for him to stop: the elder of the two was speaking again. Sirius obliged with a scowl.
"Petunia and I wish they bloody well wouldn't, as you know! But now you're eighteen you're an adult, you brat, so don't think that you can stay here for a second longer than you have to! You're going to be packing your things and leaving, right this second!" Following this came the sound of flesh slapping flesh and a louder crash, as though a table had been knocked over. Sirius's eyes widened and he threw off Draco's arm, reaching up to ring the bell.
The footsteps were quickly coming closer.
"Screw you! I don't have anything to pack you fat moron! I'm leaving right…" the door was suddenly thrown open and a teenager, one hand pressed against a wound oozing blood on the right side of his face, stood framed in the doorway. What he had been saying trailed off into nothingness as he stared at the two men, his eyes wide with the realization they had heard the fight.
Draco felt an instant spark of pity as he saw, behind the teenager, an enormous man lumbering down the hallway. Although the blonde had never been in a situation where actual bodily harm was imminent, he could imagine the hell of having to live with a man like the one hulking towards him. It didn't seem the fat man had noticed the two guests at the door, because he had continued shouting.
"DON'T YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT, BOY!! LEAVE!! AND DON'T EVER COME BACK!!"
At the sound of the huge man's voice the teenager, who Draco noticed had the greenest eyes he'd ever seen, snapped out of his shock. He moved forward suddenly, clearly intent on moving past the two cousins. Seeing an opportunity, Draco moved in front of him, pleased to find himself several inches taller than the dark-haired boy.
Sirius seemed to get the message as well, because he reached out and grabbed the teenagers arm when it looked like he was about to sock Draco in the eye.
"Could you stay for just a moment, sir?" Draco asked politely, seeing that the teenager looked very ready to protest at Sirius' manhandling on him. A quick glance over his shoulder let Draco know that Swidhelm was already out of the limo and moving towards them very fast. For an old man, Draco mused, Swidhelm could move astonishingly fast.
It seemed that the fat man had finally noticed their presence, and the sudden paling of his chubby face gave Draco an unhealthy amount of glee. It was probably that gleam of sadism in his eyes that convinced the teenager to nod his aqueisance.
"Good afternoon." Draco greeted the large man, whom he presumed to be Harry Potter, silkily. He shared a quick look with Sirius as Potter stammered over his own greeting, fat face shining with sweat, apparently intimidated by their wealth. If Draco had anything to do with it, this poor excuse for a human would not be inheriting a cent. He felt curling of smug satisfaction as he looked down on the flustered man: if they could get his son to testify against him then there was a high likelihood that Orion's Will could be revoked.
"Who are you, then?" Potter seemed to finally manage, as colour slowly drained back into his face.
Draco was about to inform the unlucky man of exactly who he was, when a voice from within the house stopped him. A woman had poked her face out from one of the rooms and was looking down the hallway fearfully.
"Vernon?" she called.
Sirius, whose hand was still resting lightly on the teenagers arm, gave her a warm smile and motioned towards the dark-haired boy, assuming he was the one she was asking after. "He's fine, ma'am. Right here."
The teenager made a clearly disgusted face that Draco didn't understand and took a slight step behind Sirius, out of sight. The woman was looking confused. "It's fine, dear." The obese Potter blustered down the hallway, and with one final sniff, the woman ducked back to where she had come from. Draco had a slight sense of foreboding at the exchange.
Draco looked at the enormous man in front of him and wondered if he really had managed to produce the delicate looking teenager who was looking nervously defiant from behind Sirius. Draco worried his lip at the clear distress in 'Vernon's' eyes, but decided that he really did need the sons testament. Anyway, if the cut was deep enough then Draco and Sirius could get the boy attention much faster than the public system, which could take hours.
Sirius turned to Swidhelm, who had come up behind them at the sight of potential violence. "Could you go and fetch the first aid kit, Swidhelm, then tell me if you think it's serious enough for him go to the hospital." The chauffer nodded and turned to trot back to the limo.
Potter's piggy eyes followed him, and widened incredibly at the sight of the stretch limo.
"Uh, c-can I help you?"
Draco smiled charmingly.
"We have come to speak to a Mister Harry Potter; I presume that you are he?" Draco was very used to charming his business associates with his handsome manner, as well as his private pursuit of beautiful men, and he was perfectly aware of what his smile could accomplish.
Despite this, Potter's face managed to fade into an ashen grey, flick into a furious purple and settle on a very uncomfortable red.
From beside him there was a sudden movement. Draco and Sirius turned simultaneously to look at the defensive face of the teenager who was suddenly locked into a glaring competition with the Fat Man. Draco could feel the waves of hate coming off the teenager, and he shivered at the loathing in his eyes. He wasn't surprised, however, to see it returned by the Fat Man.
"I'm not Harry Potter!" he snarled.
Draco felt the smile slip off his face.
The teenager turned to look at Draco directly, defiance shining in his green eyes.
"I am."
Harry's anthem: This Boy is Exhausted, The Wrens
A/N: As I mentioned before, I will need momentous amounts of reviews to continue this story, because in two days (count them) I return to school for my final six months. So basically, I have the burden of my entire future resting upon my shoulders for the next little while. So unless I suddenly look and have fifty reviews lol, I'm not gonna have the motivation to abandon my schoolwork in favour of fanfic (which would be required Dx). But nonetheless, I may come back to this fic in the distant future and continue. I'd like to continue, but unless I have the motivation, the guilt would overwhelm me. So if you want more, review! (If you're confused about the time period, don't be – I live in the southern hemisphere, so this is kind of a 'new' school year for me)
xox
Nadia