A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! So glad you guys are enjoying this story and the little world I've built up. This one has the long awaited shopping trip, haha! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter seven and be on the lookout for chapter eight soon!
"Saint Louis No. 2. Dominique You. Sunset." The cryptic note was left on Harry's desk when he returned to the office, and he recognized the handwriting immediately. Cursing the man, Harry wondered just how brazen Tom Riddle must be to waltz into the police department himself and leave a note for a detective such as himself. Harry was taking bribes, yes, but he didn't really want it shouted from the rooftops.
Still, it wasn't difficult for him to decipher the note. After he completed his work for the day, Harry left the office and made his way to the Saint Louis Number Two cemetery, and cursed the man once again for choosing a cemetery to meet in. It wasn't the most idyllic location to meet during the day, and Harry really didn't want to go in at night, when the fog would roll in off of the lake and the creatures would come out. Harry was an extremely superstitious man, and something about entering a place of the dead during the night just made his skin crawl.
It also didn't take a genius to figure out that Riddle wanted him to meet at the grave of Dominique You. Harry snorted audibly at that, knowing that of course Riddle would want to meet at the grave of such a notorious pirate, knowing that Riddle was a smuggler himself. It made sense that the man would look up to You.
The cemetery was eerie, and empty, and alive. All the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and in the dim light, the only evidence of any other humans were the twin embers of light cigarettes next to a tall monument. Harry didn't have to guess to know that it was Tom. He just wondered which one of his associates he had brought with this time. He hoped it wasn't Fenrir Greyback, seeing as the man made him nervous every time they interacted. Harry wasn't naive - he knew exactly what all of these men were capable of.
To his relief, when he finally made his way over to the two men, he was glad to see that Abraxas Malfoy had accompanied Riddle. It was obvious that Malfoy's main job was financials - helping to bank roll their little operation, and launder money clean when they needed it. Harry was well aware that Malfoy didn't exactly like to get his hands dirty.
"Well, what do you want?" Harry asked, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, hating the way that he was being called to speak with Riddle as though he was a lapdog.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought that you were enjoying our little relationship, Detective Potter." Riddle sneered at him. "I heard that you just bought a house, and rumor has it that you are going to ask for the Weasley girl's hand in marriage."
Malfoy snorted next to his friend. "Really Potter, couldn't you do better than a Weasley? They are so poor." Only someone with as much money as Malfoy could be so disparaging about another person's wealth, as though that's all they were worth.
"Yes, well, I suppose that he'd only be scraping by if it weren't for me." Riddle flicked his cigarette on the ground, near Harry's feet, looking at the Detective dispassionately. "And I can bring this new life he's settled into crashing down around him. Listen Potter, I don't pay you to get lip from you when I ask you to meet me somewhere, understand?"
Harry swallowed thickly, hating the way that he was so easily cowed by the man. He wished he could stand up for himself once, but he knew that there was some other enterprising detective waiting in the wings to take his place, should Tom Riddle ever get fed up. Riddle was more likely to shoot him than to try and work something out. "Of course Riddle. Just, could you pick somewhere else next time? You know I hate cemeteries."
Riddle raised one dark eyebrow in question. Of course, Harry knew that it was probably a location chosen for that percise reason, as Riddle liked keeping people on tilt. "You are aware of the casino in Audubon?"
Harry nodded. How could he not know about it? It had the reputation as a bit of an opium den, but it's primary use was as a casino for the wealthy lay abouts from the nearby University. It was said that the house made quite a lot of money, based on their wealthy clientele, and it was the same reason that the police had generally kept away from it. "Sure, what about it?"
"Well, let's just say, it's going to be under new ownership soon." Tom said, a smile on his face, that looked out of place even on his handsome visage. Harry knew that it was likely to be the location of a very violent take over.
"So, what do you want me to do about it?" He asked, a bit dumbly. If Riddle wanted protection, he wasn't going to be able to provide it.
"All you have to do, is keep the cops as far away from Audubon as possible on Saturday night. We don't want any kind of interference, understand?" Tom reached into his vest and pulled out an off-white envelope, handing it to Harry.
Harry took the envelope eagerly, and opened it, only to be surprised with the number of bills that had been stuffed inside. He looked up at the other man, amazed that he would have this kind of money to throw around.
"Well?" Tom asked, pointedly. "Do you think that will be enough to keep all your brothers in blue away from our little excursion this weekend? I will not be stopped." He crossed his hands over his chest, waiting for Harry's answer.
"Consider it done." Harry promised, knowing that this was going to be quite a payday for himself once he'd payed the rest of the cops off. It felt wrong to accept, but at the same time, it was a lot of money, much more than he could turn down. This meant he would finally be able to purchase the engagement ring he'd been eyeing for Ginny. He just hoped that years down the line, he still thought the bribe was worth it.
As promised, the Malfoys arrived at her flat at eight a.m. sharp on Saturday morning. Hermione had put on the dress that she liked the most, blast what Abraxas thought about it, and had pulled out half of the money that she'd earned from Tom Riddle. The other half was safely tucked away in a vase that had belonged to her mother, one of the few possessions that she still had from her parents, hidden up high on a shelf.
While she had expected them to arrive, she did not expect them to actually come into her flat. She was shocked to hear a firm pounding on the door, and she practically cursed seeing Abraxas's white blonde hair gleaming through the peep hole. Sliding the chain back from the door, she cursed under her breath and opened the door a peek, hoping they wouldn't see the absolute disaster that was inside.
For having such good manners, Abraxas was surprisingly cavalier about being invited inside. Well, Hermione mused, at least she knew that he wasn't a vampire; one could never be too sure now that she knew Riddle kept the company of someone who purported to be a rougaroux. "Christ, Granger! And here I was worried about the state of your wardrobe. How on Earth can you live in this hovel? Just wait until I tell Tom."
Hermione winced, looking around her tiny apartment. It was just a studio, with books stacked and piled high, and no real furniture except for her unmade bed in one corner half hidden by a screen, and the tiny table in her kitchen. "I wasn't expecting guests." Hermione said tersely.
A cleared throat brought her attention to the woman in the hallway. Juniper Malfoy was without a doubt one of the most effortlessly beautiful women that Hermione had ever seen. Her hair was a rather rich, almost reddish brown, pulled halfway up, the rest of it spilling down her back in perfect curls. "Mrs. Malfoy, please come in." Hermione said, sweeping her hand inside, waiting for the woman to enter her domain so that she could shut the door behind her. The last thing that she wanted to do was expose her neighbors to this debacle. "I'm Hermione Granger."
"So you are my husband's city mistress?" She asked, her blue eyes filled with mirth, her lips quirked while she looked Hermione up and down. It was clear that the woman wasn't worried for an instant that Hermione might actually steal her husband away.
"As you can see, I would never touch her with a ten foot pole." Abraxas commented from her kitchen, where he was looking at the pile of unwashed dishes with disgust.
Hermione ignored his words, before returning her attention to the other woman standing in her apartment. "Could I offer you some tea, Mrs. Malfoy?"
"Please, call me Juniper." She replied, gloved hands clutching a purse daintily. "I just wanted a chance to review your wardrobe before we went out to the shops, but I see now that we should have rang ahead." Hermione smiled, but did not comment on her lack of a telephone.
"Well, in that case, I will show you what I have." Hermione urged Juniper to follow her, showing her the clothing that she kept on a little rolling rack. It wasn't very much, but Hermione thought that she was very good about mixing and matching styles to ensure that she had a lot of options. Of course, none of it was the newest fashion from France, but personally, Hermione thought it was all quite nice.
Juniper hmmed and hawed at the clothing that Hermione had, pulling out one or two pieces that she thought were lovely. "You have a good start here, Miss Granger." Juniper said with a smile. "But there is still much room for improvement. You were right to bring me here, Braxy." Hermione wanted to giggle at the term of endearment that she was certain she would never let Abraxas live down, but before she could think on it too long, Juniper was linking her arm through Hermione's. "Come on, then. We have a lot to do today."
It was a short car ride later that they were in the shop of Juniper's favorite tailor. Abraxas had kissed his wife on the cheek, before telling her that he would be just next door to enjoy a coffee, before leaving the two women alone to their devices. Juniper sat primly on a pink couch, staring up at Hermione while the tailor took her measurements, while she looked through a sample book.
Once she was done, Hermione joined Juniper on the couch, and looked through the book, pointing out styles that she liked. "What about this one?" Hermione queried, thinking that the skirt and blouse combination looked rather modern.
Juniper made a small noise of agreement. "The skirt would be lovely on you, Hermione." Before flipping a few pages back. "But I think that this style of blouse would be much better suited to your bone structure."
After they had gone through the lookbooks, Hermione let Juniper handle the actual ordering of all of her clothes. She tried not to show how shocked she was by the price. It was true that she could afford the new clothing thanks to the hefty payment from Tom, but it didn't mean that it wasn't the most that she'd ever spent in her entire life. "Thank you for all your help, Juniper. Maybe now Abraxas will finally let up on telling me that I look like a destitute orphan who got dressed in the dark."
Juniper laughed at Hermione's assessment of her husband's behavior. "Hermione, you do have a sense of style." She told the younger girl reassuringly, before linking arms with her again. "But, you just need to learn what works best for your shape and coloring. And you must forgive my husband. I can't imagine why he would think that he was the leading authority on women's fashion, but you should have seen how he dressed before I met him."
Hermione couldn't hide her giggle at that, thinking that it was rather funny to imagine Abraxas in some old fashioned bloomers or some out of date French fashion. She couldn't wait for the day that she might call him out on some clothing, and she was determined to keep up to date with the fashion of the day, so that she would know when that time came. "Well, that's good to hear."
"Come now. Shall we go gather my idiot husband and head over to look at some makeup? I think he owes me some new perfume for dragging me away from my baby, don't you?" Juniper teased. Hermione murmured in agreement, thinking that maybe it wouldn't be completely terrible for her to get some advice from the more experienced woman. "You know, Hermione, I like you." Juniper pronounced, sweetly. "You simply must come for dinner sometime."
Hermione could barely contain her surprise, wondering what a dinner with Abraxas and Juniper might be like. Still, it was wonderful to be making some new...well, friends she supposed, so she enthusiastically agreed.
Tom stared at Antonin and Abraxas while they checked that their guns were working properly ahead of their plan to take over the Audubon casino. He'd checked his multiple times throughout the day and he was certain that if he was going to need it, it would be a sure shot.
Not that he wanted to resort to violence if he didn't have to. The Audubon was a perfectly good casino, and he was positive that it was netting a lot of money. It was just that, well, he ran New Orleans, and no one gambled in the city unless it was approved by him. And the Audubon was currently not approved, as he found his pockets tragically empty of his cut. He sneered, thinking of how those rich pricks thought that they could do something in the city without him knowing.
But, if he had to show them the barrel of a gun to get them to comply, he had absolutely no problems with killing someone to get the rest in line. It wouldn't be the first time.
"Are you sure you want me to come with?" Abraxas whined. "You know that I've never been your muscle, Tommy. And, well, Lucius is just a baby. I can't go to jail."
Tom rolled his eyes at his blond friend. Of course he knew that Abraxas as nearly worthless as muscle. The only reason he was really going with was for his name. Otherwise, he was certain that they wouldn't be able to get into the Audubon without injuring someone. But, the Malfoy name was synonymous with money, and that would ensure their unimpeded entry. "Don't worry, you won't go to jail, Abraxas. You heard Potter."
"Yes, well, Potter doesn't run the whole police force does he?" Abraxas snapped, before realizing just who he was arguing with. He took a steadying breath. "I just think that someone else might be better suited. You know that Rabastan has been itching to fight ever since he got out of prison."
"Christ, you aren't going to go to jail." Antonin finally snapped, all of his patience for the blond man quickly draining. Tom felt reassured to have Antonin on his side, knowing that the Russian man was more than capable of handling himself. When they met each other for the very short summer that Antonin was in the orphanage before he ran away, Tom know that they had similar spirits. Yes, Antonin was a bit rougher around the edges - he didn't quite have the innate charm that Tom knew he possessed - but he was loyal, and Tom was positive that he would have his back if things got hot.
"Yes, Abraxas, Antonin and I will handle all of the talking and all of the shooting, if it comes down to it. Just try and hold the gun and look competent. Try not to look like it's your first time holding one." Tom instructed, taking a bit of a softer tone. He knew that he needed to give Abraxas some slack because it was true that he was a new father. That meant he was bound to be a bit more nervous than usual.
"I have used a gun before." Abraxas scoffed.
"Really? Then prove it!" Antonin taunted, more used to needling his friend than Tom was.
Once he was positive that they had everything sorted, Tom lead the other two out to the car. It was a short drive from their warehouse to the Audubon casino, which was doing little to disguise its true purpose. It made Tom a little bit angry to know that these young, University men didn't need to hide what they were doing all because they had the right connections, while he was forced to skulk around underground.
Tom walked next to Abraxas, and just as expected the doorman was falling over himself to let Abraxas in. "Oh, Mister Malfoy. We weren't expecting you tonight." He said, as though Abraxas had ever stepped through the doors before. "Come inside, please, we will have our best table prepared for you immediately. You can see everything that's going on - and you'll have the best view of the dancing girls." He teased.
Perhaps he would later think of this as a bad decision, but Tom was so fed up of being treated differently than some of these bluebloods and he lost his temper. As soon as the doorman let them cross the threshold, he turned on the larger man, grabbing his poorly fitting tuxedo by the collar, and shoved his gun under the doorman's fat throat. "We want to speak with whoever is in charge around here, immediately." Tom said with a sneer. "The Audubon is under new management now."
The doorman swallowed thickly, but he nodded quickly, happy to comply if he could keep his life.
