Sorry About That
Chapter One: I Love My Job
Draco stepped out of his shower and scowled at his reflection after he'd used a quick flick of his wand to remove all of the steam from the room. It was Saturday, and he'd originally wanted to drown away his troubles with some firewhiskey at the local pub, but this particular day he had to work. He'd come a long way from the boy who got out of Azkaban by an eyelash length bit of luck, and had worked his way from passing out coffees and sorting mail at the Ministry to now being the Senior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, Dorian Craigston. He'd now been working solely for Craigston for three years, hoping that one day he'd finally be able to clear his last name and get on in with the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, where he longed to work.
Draco didn't mind where he worked now, if he wanted to be honest with himself. Craigston was mostly fair, sometimes a bit too all-knowing, and never refrained from speaking what was on his mind. He appreciated honesty, even if it was ruthless, which had actually been how Draco had landed the job in the first place. Draco could still recall the day he'd barged into the Minister's office on the pretenses of quitting. He'd told the Minister everything he could think of that he'd found wrong with the Ministry and how it was run, he'd gone to toss his employee badge right into Craigston's face, and instead the older man had merely smiled, and offered him a new position.
If he had known three years ago that accepting that job offer had meant that he would wind up eventually sacrificing all of his Saturdays for the months of November and December to attend meetings with Craigston and Harry bloody Potter, he'd have chucked the badge like he'd intended and never come back.
This was to be their first meeting with Potter, and Draco had tried everything he could think of to weasel his way out of it. He hadn't seen Potter since he'd gone to his hearing and Potter had cleared Draco and his family of all charges. He knew he ran the Auror department and so he'd made it a point to avoid going around there at all times, despite the fact that Daphne Sways' office was just across the hall and she had a bosom so big that Draco felt his head might actually be smaller. He'd instead taken to flirting with her in the lifts and in the break room over coffee.
He'd started to complain of a stomach ache on Monday, progressively making it seem worse and worse, so that come Friday he'd hoped that Craigston would have just a pinch of heart and tell Draco to take off - but he hadn't. Draco had figured out early morning Wednesday that his plan wasn't going to work when he'd eyed his overflowing inbox after shrugging out of his coat. He'd gone through every department he could think of, spoken to any of the connections he'd made, even threatened a few people to let him join in some of their various projects or tasks that were taking place that weekend. Unfortunately, it seemed everyone had known about him coming in advance, and either weren't in their office or simply shot him down when he questioned. Draco had that morning decided he just would disappear for the day and apologize on Monday, but he'd been rudely awakened by four separate owls throughout his morning, each carrying him notes reminding him that he needed to meet Craigston at precisely one pm in London, or else.
Thinking about how badly his life would be affected if he simply quit, he sighed, gripped the edges of his sink, and gave in. There was no way out of it. He made exceedingly good money as a Senior Assistant, and he enjoyed his work. His flat was one of the nicest ones in Aging Stones, (right outside of Aberdeen, Scotland) his Gringotts account was large enough that he could almost always afford whatever he wanted, and his parents were proud of him. He would just have to suffer through the next month of Saturday meetings and be on his best behavior. After it was over he would speak to Craigston again about getting on with MLES, and how could he refuse after something like this? He assumed Draco was too hot tempered to join MLES, but Draco would be sure to show that he could handle situations he didn't really want to be in. He told himself over and over that he needed to be on his best behavior, no matter what, prove himself to Craigston, and get his life back on the track he wanted it on.
He cast a drying spell on himself and threw on the robes he'd set out for today. They were freshly pressed, brand new, and made especially for him. He was at least going to go to Potter's house in style.
When he exited the bathroom he nearly jumped when a figure on his bed shifted. He'd forgotten that he'd invited Astoria over the previous night. Probably because he hadn't invited her, she just had a way of showing up and letting herself in that irked him, and she wasn't exactly a person he found particularly memorable.
There wasn't anything wrong with her, really. She had a very pretty face, piercing blue-green eyes that really stood out against her chestnut hair, and a very, very (very) slim frame. She wrote gossip articles for Witch Weekly and modeled on the side; she was someone a lot of people would be very happy to have interested in them. But, he thought bitterly to himself, they didn't have to listen to her go on and on about her feelings and their future and children. His parents had arranged for them to start seeing each other not too long after the War ended, out of hopes of bringing their name out of the garbage. In the beginning Draco had been enthusiastic about it, simply because she was a rather good-looking female, but after nearly six years of putting up with her he was simply over it all. It seemed like he couldn't get rid of her. She didn't want to leave.
"Good morning," she said, yawning and sitting up, covering her naked body with his sheets.
He sat at the edge of the bed to put on his shoes, and cringed when she moved behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso and rested her head on his shoulder blades. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" He questioned, shrugging her off of him so he could continue his task of getting dressed.
"Not until two," she said, unfazed by his tone and his actions. "But it's just a late lunch with Skeeter, anyway, to talk about a rumor she heard about Ollivander. I'll be back a little after you get home, I'm sure."
He rolled his eyes and mocked her, though she couldn't see his face, and took a deep breath to steady his tone. "Or, why don't you just go back to your place?" He tried to suggest it like it was a great idea, like it sounded entertaining, even.
He could actually feel her narrow her eyes. "I haven't seen you in two weeks, Draco, why would I want to go home?"
"Well, it is where you live, after all. And I figure since I'm the one paying your rent-"
"Only because you weren't ready to live together-"
"-that my money shouldn't be wasted with you staying here all the time."
"Or you could give up the fact that you just want to shag your way through the Ministry and just let me move in with you," she spat, and Draco turned to face her at those words.
He had to admit, he did like her when she was angry. Her eyes were always the first thing anybody noticed about her, but when her cheeks were red her eyes stood out even more than usual, and drew him in. Something about her flushed appearance always made him a bit randy, and he wondered if there was enough time to… No. One glance at the clock told him he only had a few more minutes before he had to meet Craigston and it would take him ten of those to make it the apparition point. "We'll talk about this later." He stated, before grabbing his coat and turning to walk out of his room.
"Later…like tonight? After my lunch with Rita?"
He rolled his eyes. "Whenever, love," he said, and ignored her I love you, heading out of flat and into the busy street.
He'd chosen this exact location for two reasons: one, because the flat was large, modern, and located in a very distinguished magical community. The flat itself was on the seventh floor, so he got a great view of the city when he glanced outside, but it was charmed so that whenever he opened the front door he was always flat on the ground. There were no lifts to sit in, no stairs to climb. And two, because it was far away from anybody he really wanted to bump into (Astoria included). He'd tried living briefly in London to be close to work, but it seemed everyone there knew everything about him and always wanted to stop and stare, or chat. He kept out of the papers now that he lived so far away, and he enjoyed his privacy. In fact, except for the random women he would bring home, only Astoria had ever come around to visit. Not to mention the closest apparition point was nearly a mile away, and that meant that Astoria didn't come over as often as she had when he'd lived in London.
Once he'd reached the outskirts of Aging Stone, he apparated, and used the old telephone booth to make his way into the Ministry, grumbling under his breath. Luckily, Craigston was only waiting in the Atrium, so he didn't have to go all the way to his office to pick him up. Though Draco wore an expression of exasperation and annoyance, Craigston smiled brightly when he saw him and patted him on the back. "Draco, right on time, as always. You certainly look better, I assume your stomach bug has gone?"
Draco gritted his teeth, "Seems to of done," he said, careful of his tone. "Shall we?"
The Minister grinned knowingly, pulled a small bit of parchment out of his pocket, and handed it over to Draco. 1298 Woodfire Lane, it read. Draco knew this had to be Potter's address, and read it once more to make sure he had it memorized. He extended his arm for Craigston to take hold of, and turned on the spot.
Draco felt nauseous once they'd arrived at their meeting place. He doubled over briefly to catch his breath, focusing on the ground beneath him at the time, and not noticing the house before him. He hated apparating so closely together, but Craigston never wanted to travel by floo or portkey. "All right, Draco?" Craigston asked, and Draco took a deep breath and straightened himself out, nodding.
The house actually startled him a bit. It was much larger than Draco had expected, at least almost as big as Malfoy Manor. He'd known Potter was, for lack of a better phrase, filthy stinking rich, but he hadn't expected him to live in such a way as though to flaunt it. Draco figured he'd had gone and spent half his fortune on charities and orphans and freeing house elves, or whatever it was the lot of bloody Gryffindors did when they were given things they didn't deserve.
Draco locked his jaw in an attempt to mask the contemptuous look he knew had stolen across his face from Craigston, who was looking at him as though expecting exactly that reaction from him. "Nice house," Draco said dismissively, and they fell into step together silently.
Once they'd reached the front door Draco hesitated again, and turned to face Craigston. "Are you sure that I have to attend these meetings?" He questioned. He knew he was acting exactly how he'd been expected to act, but he was having a harder time of pretending not to care than he originally assumed he would. "I know that a lot of this has to do with the Donovan case and you told me earlier on that I wasn't allowed to join in with that particular assignment-"
"Draco," he sighed, heavily, "If you behave the next few months I'll allow you to join in any assignment that you so wish."
Draco's mood lifted some, and with a new-found confidence he knocked on the door, waiting for Potter to open it.
He was surprised to find a woman answer, instead. It was the She-Weasel – or She-Potter, perhaps, as he noticed she now spotted a ring on her finger. He couldn't recall her name off the top of his head but he remembered that firey red hair and seeing her and Potter's pictures in the Prophet quite a bit.
The past six years had been very kind to her, and that was saying it as nicely as Draco dared. She'd filled out proportionally, but still remained slender, though she had curves in all the right places. She was bigger than most of the girls he'd ever found himself with; his type was built like a wand, almost sickly looking, and the Weasley was shaped like a time-turner. Her skin had tanned some, perhaps from Quidditch, as Draco recalled she had previously played professionally, and it made her freckles almost seem to blend. He realized with a start that he had been checking her out, and actually approving of what he saw, before he shook his head slightly to clear that away. Of course Potter would wind up in a large home, with lots of money, and a gorgeous wife. The bastard got everything.
"Hello, Ginny, how are you?" Craigston questioned, reaching out for her hand, which he kissed when she extended it.
Ginny smiled warmly at him, and forced a small one in Draco's direction. "I've been well, come in," she moved aside to let them enter. "Harry's out back testing out his new Skyblue 500, but I'll let him know that you're here."
Draco bit his tongue at the mention of the broom. It wasn't even released to come out for another 3 months and Draco's name was on a long waiting list just on the pre-order side. But of course Potter would be given special privileges and be able to obtain a broom the moment it was thought into existence.
If he'd thought that he couldn't be any more miserable, he was mistaken once he saw the interior of the house. It seemed even larger from inside, and had so many windows that it almost felt like they were still in the garden. The walls were beige and with deep red trim, the furniture looked expensive but exceedingly comfortable, and once Draco noticed Potter's broom collection on display across the room he felt like he needed to punch someone. It seemed that every time he looked at something else his jealousy grew, and finally he felt so nauseous from it that he chose to focus on Craigston. The latter was still watching him carefully.
"I know this is difficult for you-" he began.
"Do you?" Draco spat in response, and instantly regretted it. "It's nothing. I think it's just my stomach bug acting up. I don't think I'm completely well yet."
Craigston made himself comfortable on the large sofa, and Draco joined him, pulling out his notepad and a quill, ready to take notes. "You may put that away for now," Craigston directed. "Today's meeting is more of a catch-up, we'll get down to the real business next weekend."
It was on the tip of Draco's tongue to whine about why he needed to be there for just a catching up session, but again he caught himself and stopped. Some days he wasn't even sure why Craigston kept him, he knew he acted like a spoiled child at the best of times, but for some reason the old man had taken a liking to him. That, or deep down he was very cruel and simply wanted to make Draco miserable, which, Draco was beginning to believe was what was truly the case.
The couple finally made their way back inside, Potter looking flushed in the face from the cool air, and his hair, which had always been untamable, now looked simply wild. Draco hated to admit it, but time had been kind to him as well. He'd filled out nicely, he was no longer the scrawny little git he'd known in school. He'd done his best the last six years to avoid being around Potter, and he'd done a good job so far. Draco could honestly say he'd only caught a few glimpses of the guy since the hearing. The only other times he'd seen him was when he was splattered across the Prophet, but Draco hadn't really given it much attention.
Potter and him exchanged glances, but other than that didn't speak. Him and Ginny took the sofa opposite the one Draco sat on, and summoned refreshments. Draco watched how they interacted together as he helped himself to a cup of tea, for something to busy himself with.
He noticed they didn't exactly sit too closely, and though they could sometimes finish each others sentences, it didn't really seem like they were the Couple of the Year that Witch Weekly had pronounced them on a few separate occasions. He was surprised, to say the least, that though they did have pictures of themselves, family, and friends hanging up around the house that there were no pictures or proof of any children. He'd heard rumor, now that he thought about it, from Astoria last year when Ginny had quit playing that they were talking about starting a family. He'd forgotten the information not too long after hearing it, as he usually did with anything Astoria happened to bring up. He'd have to question her about them when he got home, it seemed that sometimes her working a gossip column and being Rita Skeeter's best friend might have come in handy.
"What about you, Draco?" He heard, which snapped him back to the conversation at hand. Everyone was looking at him expectantly, and Ginny had the faint trace of annoyance on her face, at the fact that it seemed he'd been ignoring her.
"Sorry?"
"Do you think Puddlemere United have a chance at winning the Cup this season?" She repeated.
Ah, Quidditch talk. This made things a bit easier. "No," he responded, which clearly seemed to shock everyone in the room. "Honestly, with the Gorodok Goblins now sporting Devon Van-Fleet as Seeker and getting rid of their God-awful Keeper, I think Puddlemere is easily going to score second."
Potter frowned, "They lost by 100 points to the Bats-"
"Yes but you can't deny that the Bats are going to lose against the Tornados with Winston being out. I mean, it might be a close game because their Keeper is rather good, but he was their only Chaser who was really worth a damn."
"No way," Ginny interjected. "Moonfield is a great Chaser; he's only improved since just last season. I think without Winston taking all of the fame that he'll really stand out in the game."
"Yes, but well enough to be the Tornados?" Draco cried, almost laughing at the sheer absurdity of her statement.
She turned a bit red. "Well… Maybe not."
"Why don't we bet on it?" Potter questioned, a smirk on his face. "50 galleons on the Bats beating the Tornados."
Draco pondered it for a moment. "50 galleons it is." It's not as thought that were quite a lot of money to him, but if he were honest, he didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to going against Potter. He'd spoken so surely of himself earlier, but Potter had called his bluff, and now he was sweating on it a bit.
He shook it off, however. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was Quidditch. Even if he were to lose to it, it was basically just a bet based on chance. It could go in anyone's favor, so what harm would it do to lose a bet like that?
He was sure he saw a hint of a smile pass on Craigston's face, so he scowled back, and tried to pay more attention to the conversation at hand.
It was nearly an hour of story-telling, some of which had Draco close to smiling, but the majority of it he remained sullen and quiet. Though Craigston had said they weren't going to discuss the Donovan case that day, his name did come up, which put Draco at instant alert, though he tried to appear as though he were day-dreaming and staring out the window. He knew if Craigston thought he was paying any attention that he'd be ushered out of the room, but as though Craigston read his mind, Draco and Ginny were asked to excuse the two of them for a few minutes.
Draco wondered what would happen if he simply refused to go, but the thought of being left alone with Ginny was what made him stand. He followed her back into a sitting room and again sat across from her, not speaking. In the end, she broke the silence. "So, Malfoy…how's life?" Her voice was strained, as thought she'd rather be doing anything else in the world than sitting near him and trying to entertain him.
"Wonderful," he replied, with an even tone. "This is a nice home. Certainly not what I expected from you two."
"And just what did you expect?" He could hear the traces of a temper beginning in her voice, so he decided to try a different approach. It wouldn't be good to piss off Potter's wife.
"Something a bit more humble…Smaller. I assumed it would be a nice sized place, just didn't expect it to be so…big." He thought about his words after he'd spoken them, wondering if he'd said it in a way that wouldn't offend her.
"Well, this isn't my home, it's Harry's," she said. "I thought the same thing about it when he bought it. It's large for a large family, but a bit too big, I think."
He refrained from making a comment about her pathetic excuse for a home she'd grown up in clouding her vision of what proper housing sizes were, though it was on the tip of his tongue to spit it out. "I assumed you were married," he said, motioning at her ring.
"Engaged," she corrected. She didn't elaborate, and Draco didn't want to ask, so he fell quiet again. "What about you?" She asked as an afterthought, as though remembering it was polite at the last minute. "I've heard you and Astoria are still together."
He glowered. "And just how did you hear that?"
"I just got on with the Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeter is your biggest fan. Or stalker, rather. Whichever. She loves to talk about you."
"Is that so?" He drawled, slowly. "And what does she have to say?" He often wondered if Astoria vented to that pathetic excuse of a witch whenever they argued. They'd gotten into numerous fights about it when she and Skeeter had first begun their lunch sessions together, because there had been a long article about him that had angered him. It hadn't actually been a bad one, but it was the fact that he'd tried so hard to keep his name out of the papers only to find a picture of him on page 3 – it had been outrageous.
Ginny grinned, wickedly, he thought. "Worried, are you?"
"Wouldn't you be?"
"I think anything she decides to say about you would just be payback enough for the times you slandered Harry to her."
He sniffed. He had no real argument to that. "Yes, well, we were just kids back then. I have a career to worry about now."
She looked as though she would love to comment on his career, but said nothing.
They continued to make some small talk, up until they heard the roaring laughter of Potter and Craigston seep into the hallway. Draco sighed with relief, more than ready to leave, and rose to his feet. He said polite goodbyes to the couple, and he and Craigston exited their home. Draco felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and he took a deep breath, actually smiling at his sudden sense of freedom. "How did I do?" He questioned.
Craigston merely shook his head with amusement.
A/N: This is an idea that randomly popped into my head the other day. I decided to try a Draco/Ginny after reading Ginny Weasley and the Cure of the Firstborn (check it out!). I'm hoping for this story to have a lot of humor and irony in it - I'm having a lot of fun with Astoria's character. Anyway, thanks for reading if you have, and if you like it, let me know! :)