This is my first Dramione/Harry Potter fanfiction so I'm sorry if it isn't exactly brilliant or if I've made a mess of the characters, just feel free to point out any of your opinions ^.^
Draco took in the smell of the fresh spring air around him and thought about how much had changed in the past few years. This garden, although bustling with the students from a university nearby, was the only place where being Draco Malfoy would not be to his disadvantage. The muggles weren't so bad; their ignorance worked in his favour, not to mention their clothes were quite comfortable too, he thought looking down at his jeans. Draco's new ''muggle friendly'' behaviour had worried Narcissa and Lucius especially when they had decided to surprise him by visiting his new flat in London and discovered a television and a microwave. After much persuasion that this was merely a method to ensure that living alone was a lot less bothersome, Draco's parents reluctantly came around to the gadgets.
The Malfoy's was not longer a name he could flaunt around any longer to help him gain favours in the Ministry ever since the Great Wizarding War had made his family look like scum. In fact, scum was probably one of the better things Draco had been called in his last attempt to get a job at the ministry. No one wanted to be associated with those who had helped the Dark Lord and it did not help that Lucius had managed to wrangle his way out of an Askaban sentence of 20 years by serving a year and then paying generous amounts of money to important figures. Still, Draco could tell from the desperate look in his father's eyes that things had not been easy since then. Lucius Malfoy had lost two of his most valuable assets; his reputation and his pride. Draco would often see his father retire to his study with a bottle of firewhisky when he came home for the weekend and emerge with a fragile lopsided smile on his face.
Getting a job as a reporter, despite its pittance of a wage was nothing short of a miracle in Draco's eyes. It got his father hoping that once again the Malfoy's would no longer be social outcasts in a world that they had been so used to getting the best of. However as soon as Draco got the job, his boss Eldred Worple had requested for Draco to have a pseudonym.
''Just for security reasons,'' Mr. Worple said wrangling his hands nervously, ''you know how it is Draco my boy.''
''Mr Worple, I appreciate you offering me a job-''
''Well the sample pieces you sent me about the use of wormwood in potionary were excellent and I would very much like to put it through in our next edition Draco, if you will agree to the terms I ask of you.''
Draco bitterly thought about when the name Malfoy could guarantee him a job with the Minister of Magic himself and resisted to urge to curse this old man. Who did he think he was to treat Draco Malfoy like this? But once again Draco reminded himself that this was his last chance at securing a career. Maybe having a new identity would work to his advantage.
''You could be in this industry, you have just what it needs, a sharp eye and notice what others don't,'' Worple continued, ''and don't take what I ask of you personally Draco, many of our finest writers have pen names. Take Kennilworthy Whisp, he started off being Jacques Saunders! You have no idea the amount of recognition good authors get, in fact-''
''I'll take the job,'' Draco said with a trace of desperation in his voice. Anything to stop Worple blabbering on.
Draco pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked at his watch.
''Damn it,'' he cursed.
Mr. Worple wouldn't be very amused if he was late again for the third time this week, he might just suspend Draco's lunch break this time like he hinted he would. Draco rushed out of the small garden and wound through streets attempting to find a deserted place to disapparate while at the same time as pulling his arms into his robes. He cursed yet again; this undignified behavior was hardly what a respectable Malfoy would do. Yet again a wave of bitterness shot through his mind as Draco remembered that the Malfoy's were indeed not very respected these days.
''Just in time Draco,'' Mr. Worple announced gleefully, ''the Daily Prophet's weekly fan letters have come in today!''
Draco gathered around the cramped publishing room that was whirring with activity from next Thursday's edition of the Daily Prophet. Worple was sitting on a table with dozens of papers pushed aside and the reporters were crowded around him. The whole room smelt faintly of fresh parchment and today's lunch for the press workers: bacon and tomato sandwiches. Draco craned his head to look at the small, stout man with his reading spectacles resting on top of his greying hair.
No wonder he looked so happy today. Finally, an excuse to get rid of me, Draco thought resentfully, or to tell me I've been demoted to office staff. As much as he hated to admit it, Draco had enjoyed his first official week of working at the Daily Prophet after months of training. It didn't matter that his co-workers hated him because he had his own, admittedly tiny, office. He enjoyed not being Draco Malfoy…the man with the traitorous family and the cowardly father. He was now Cygnus Mordaunt. Draco didn't have to keep on pretending he was proud of being who he was, he could just be another nobody who had done no harm. Not Draco Malfoy.
''As usual they are in your in-trays so off you go!''
''After three years you would have thought that the excitement wears away,'' someone muttered behind Draco, ''but no, every week Eldred has to make a big show of it.''
Draco walked back to his office feeling more nervous by the second. He tried to keep his hopes down of getting a single letter to Cygnus Mordaunt and more importantly praying that Mr. Worple wasn't following him but heading towards the ink supply closet.
Draco reached for the door that was simply titled 'General News Office 6'. There were originally three reporters including Draco, however Joan and Edwin applied for a change in office a couple of weeks after Draco started training due to ''family reasons''. Draco didn't even know what kind of family reasons could allow an office change.
''Ah Draco,'' Mr. Worple called and grabbed Draco's shoulder, ''let's have a word in your office.''
''Of course Mr. Worple,'' Draco said stiffly as Worple closed the door behind them.
Draco's office contained a large desk in one corner, his office owl Kasper near the windowsill and an Asphodel plant near the door. It wasn't as fancy as Draco had hoped it would be but it was all his.
''You have to stop calling me Mr. Worple, I prefer Eldred. Now Draco, I must have you know I'm very impressed with your work so far,'' Worple said much to Draco's surprise, ''don't be so shocked boy! It was a risky move of me to hire you, very risky indeed but I knew you had it.''
''Well thank you...Eldred,'' Draco said a little faintly ''I have very much enjoyed working with you. After all, most of my articles were based on your ideas.''
''I really wasn't expecting this much public support either,'' Eldred carried on disregarding Draco's comment, ''wait 'till you see the amount of post for you boy, of course I can't guarantee it'll all be good but still, thirty odd letters isn't bad for a first time reporter...not bad indeed.''
Thirty letters? People sent Draco thirty letters? Draco went to sit down on his chair, still shocked as Worple continued talking. Draco ran a hand through his blonde hair, sweeping it back from his forehead and barely noticed Worple walk out of his office. He remembered the frustration he felt when he couldn't think of anything to write for his article last Tuesday. Four hours away from his deadline, Draco sent an owl to Eldred in a moment of desperation.
''What's the matter?'' Was the greeting Draco had answered the door to.
''I just can't think of anything to write,'' Draco answered looking pale and clammy with ink stained hands.
''Come on boy, it's just a general oddballs options article, it could be about anything at all!'' Eldred said while walking through his flat and examining items he encountered.
''I can't think of a single thing Mr. Worple. Nothing at all comes to mind,'' he ran his hands through his hair in a frustrated manner.
''It's just a panic attack you're going through Draco, nothing uncommon. But here's an idea, why don't you do a piece on muggle technology? It's something everyone's curious about but many of our reporters have no idea how it works.''
''What would I know about it?'' Draco snapped.
''Look around you, there's a micro-wave machine and a telly-vision. You understand these muggle tools so why not write something about them?'' Worple raised his brows.
This created a spark of inspiration and immediately Draco began working on an article called ''Muggle advancement - how muggle technology has made it easier to live day to day life.'' In a rush of adrenalin and exhaustion he ran up an article describing muggle gadgets, such as dishwashers and microwaves, which enabled muggles to live more efficient lifestyles. The next morning after he'd send off the final draft to Mr. Worple, Draco groaned in regret. What kind of a Malfoy was he? He was praising muggles! A hot flush of embarrassment ran through his face as he walked into work the next day but no one remarked on anything strange. Of course, it wasn't like Draco expected his co-workers to tell him there was anything wrong, like the time he had owl excretion on the back of his robes. Nevertheless there wasn't any giggling and pointing and it was then that he realised that none of his co-workers knew who Cygnus Mordaunt was. Draco grasped what a dangerous game he was playing by doing this but he couldn't help but think that all the things that remained unspoken at his years at Hogwarts and at home could finally come out in writing. Becoming Cygnus Mordaunt was a way of writing whatever he wanted to and not having to deal with the consequences, at least not with his parents.
Barely containing his excitement, Draco lifted the large pile of letters from his in-tray.
''Dear Cygnus, your article ''Muggle Advancement'' was indeed praiseworthy, it shows the ignorance of us wizards by not exploring more into the muggle world… – Yours, Witch-in-green''
''Mr Mordaunt, very thoughtful view taken upon muggle technology, looking forward to more of your work – Buckley Cooper ''
''To Cygnus Mordaunt, I do not necessarily agree with your view points on having to try muggle technology to understand the way muggles live however I understand where you are coming from. The summary of your article was especially enlightening when you considered how we wizards need to advance to keep up with muggles. - Mrs. Hobday P.S. Is there any chance of you putting in a photo of yourself in the next article?''
The rest of the letters were very similar, giving their opinion on ''Muggle Advancement'' article and a few thanking him for the tips in his other article about the use of wormwood in potions. It was a complicated feeling that Draco encountered after reading those letters. He felt something that he'd forgotten existed for a long time. Draco felt wanted. He didn't get disregarded or sneered upon but instead there were people praising him on his article. A hesitant smile spread on his face, yet another unfamiliar feeling, as he picked up the last letter.
''Cygnus Mordaunt, it is about time that someone from the prophet wrote about muggle technology. I thoroughly enjoyed your work and the accuracy that was in it. It is wonderful that you have explored a topic that most wizards would be hesitant to explore and it is in fact very brave. You are a brilliant writer and seem like a wonderful character, it would be brilliant to meet up with you to gain a deeper understanding of your insight of the contrast between the muggle and wizard world. I will be looking out for any later articles of yours. - From Hermione Granger.''
Thank you so much for reading it, I hope you've enjoyed it and all reviews/subscriptions/favourites would be much appreciated.