CASH ONLY
a gender-bent, Muggle AU Dramione (because why tf not?)
. . .
"Excuse me?" a baritone politely asked from behind her.
Dracaena scowled instinctively as she turned around, lowering her limited edition Prada sunglasses to have a clear look at the man. She expected a greying old man with a beer belly, wearing a jumper from Tesco or some shit like that, but what she saw made her jaw drop delicately.
In front of her was a man with darker skin than hers, frizzy yet fashionable brown hair, and an impeccable white suit to match! This man was honestly delectable, and she felt like she knew this man from somewhere... Maybe from a sitcom? She couldn't quite figure out.
"Do I know you?" Dracaena raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips for effect.
Recognition flashed in the man's brown eyes, and a frown settled on his mouth. "Malfoy?"
Dracaena put her sunglasses back in place, clearing her throat as she realized exactly who she was currently talking to. She acted calm, though. In fact, she even forced a smile. "Granger."
She couldn't believe she just checked her old schoolmate out. Good God, she felt dishonoured.
"What are you doing here?" inquired Granger as though Dracaena's business was any of his business.
She rolled her eyes, raising a gloved hand to fan herself. She was sweating, and she didn't know why. "Waiting for my chauffeur."
Granger snorted, the absolute mannerless swine he was. "What, five years later and daddy still doesn't allow you to drive?"
Dracaena stiffened, clutching her shopping bags closer as though they would protect her from Granger's personal, verbal attacks. "My father doesn't control me."
"I find that hard to believe."
"And why is that?"
He looked her up-and-down, smirking. "Because you're still wearing his money."
"Actually Granger, I bought this whole get-up—even the Versace dress, the Hermes Birkin bag, the Audemars Piguet watch, the Cartier rings, the Chanel heels, and the Prada—"
Hermes Granger had the audacity to interrupt and laugh at her. "I get it, Malfoy, you're a walking luxury shopping mall."
Dracaena let out a small smile. "You better know it, Granger."
"You've ever been robbed before?"
A Narcissa-approved sneer was starting to form on her mouth, she was sure. "What? No!"
He laughed again, the sound sending a pleasurable chill down Dracaena's spine. "You're adorable, Malfoy."
"I prefer drop-dead gorgeous," she retorted, but she felt her cheeks warm up at his words. Was she embarrassed?
Granger grinned, putting a hand out of his pocket to glance at his watch. "Hey, if you have time, do you want to ditch the driver and have tea or something?"
She faked a gasp. "Are you asking me out, Mr Hermes Granger?"
"I am, actually. What are you going to do about it?"
His sudden drop in octave made Dracaena's heart quicken. Where was the swot that she used to tease back in boarding school?
"You're a poet, aren't you, Hermes?" she drawled his name slowly. She knew he loved it. "I'm a very high-maintenance woman. If you're not going to court me formally, I think I deserve at least a haiku."
Hermes's shoulders shook as he let out another pleasing chuckle. "Alright."
"I'm waiting."
Granger cleared his throat mockingly, the smile on his face never fading. He recited an on-the-spot haiku that flooded Dracaena's stomach with butterflies,
"Don't want to sound coy,
Can I have your heart, Malfoy?
This is not a ploy."
It was honestly terrible, but no one had ever made a haiku for her. He made her smile, and that was what was important for her.
"For ten million pounds, my heart is yours, Granger." Dracaena felt her phone buzzing inside her Hermes Birkin handbag. She definitely did not have the time, but a good-looking man just asked her out, and she wasn't going to let her driver mess up a date. "Cash only."