20 September 2001
Hogsmeade Village was quite magical in the early morning hours. Before customers arrived to shop and before the residents woke to start their days. When the slight fog was still hovering near the ground and the regular noises of the numerous comings and goings were quieted by inactivity. The Wizarding settlement was peaceful and quaint, absolutely unassuming in its simplicity.
A factor that Draco greatly appreciated when he arrived to the Hogsmeade station just after seven o'clock on that almost chilly Thursday morning.
There wasn't anyone lingering nearby to force him to talk when he was in no mood to chat. No one passed him on the short path into the village and paused to stare or noticeably point him out. It was just the birds chirping and the other business owners opening up for the day.
As the strengthening beams of sunlight broke through the clouds and illuminated the storefronts, Draco vaguely smiled at the smells of the early morning - the doughy freshness of bread, the crisp burn of meat recently put on the smoker, the sharpness of herbs newly picked, the natural scent of the forests and looming mountains. It was enough to make him hungrier than he already was and appreciative of his choice in business location. Luckily his destination came into view as he strode underneath the archway into the village, and his pace quickened as he almost tasted the food in his mouth already.
The Magically Delicious bakery had opened up almost across the street from the Three Broomsticks but their similar wares did not seem to detract business from either. Every witch and wizard in Britain knew the Three Broomsticks as a pub and bar - eating or drinking, you could stop in for as long as you liked. But the Magically Delicious bakery was more of a cafe that offered several long cases of fresh breads, cookies, muffins, and any baked good you could dream up. Sandwiches were available on a day to day basis as well, though they fell far behind the orders for cakes and pastries.
Striding forward and grabbing the golden handle, Draco pulled open the ornate glass paneled door and stepped fully into the sugary and warm scents. All of the little round tables were empty and the display cases were just as bare, several trays with treats and breads waiting on the back counter to go out. Steam was rising up from kettles on the stove and a plate of something or other lay half frosted.
There was a scuffle from the back of pots and pans hitting the floor loudly and a woman cursed just before a pair of voices asked if everything was alright. The first witch responded affirmatively as the objects, surely, were magically put back in place. He heard her mutter to herself until she came through the doorway and noticed him standing on the other side of the counter.
"Well good morning," the young witch said with more enthusiasm than Draco expected, but he gave her a slight returning smile, knowing she was often bubbly in the mornings.
"Morning Tessa," Draco greeted the owner of the bakery.
"I haven't seen you in here in ages, I hope you haven't been skipping out on breakfast again." Putting a hand on her hip and shaking a finger at him, Tessa took the moment to berate him before belatedly noticing the kettles.
Draco chuckled at her admonishing and watched as she waved her wand to extinguish the flames. Tessa was fairly short - though he was a tall bloke and that was hardly a way for him to judge other people's heights - with a sleek chestnut ponytail and nearly black, almond shaped eyes. She was born in the Western countryside but had attended school in America and was used to the ribbing about her adopted accent. He knew she was a few years older than him too but that was the limited personal information she had told him.
"If I ate your foods every day I'd be as big as a dragon's backside," Draco fired back goodnaturedly.
Tessa dismissed his statement, turning her back on him as a large mug flew into her waiting hand.
"There are spells and Charms for that these days. Besides -" she twirled a finger so that a spoon spun three times in the coffee that was now floating towards Draco. "You might as well enjoy it while you still have your taste buds."
Draco couldn't help the sharp bark of laughter.
"My taste buds? Where are they going?"
Tessa shrugged, a grin on her face to match her inane remark. "We all get old - it will catch up to you when you least expect it."
Draco shook his blonde head, brought his coffee to his lips, and hummed happily as he sipped.
"Perfect every time."
"It is my job to know my customer's preferences - especially my regulars," Tessa told him easily, moving to the waiting bread as a knife began slicing the loaves.
"And you are very good at your job," Draco commented, taking his mug with him as he sat down at the circular table nearest the register.
"Do you want your usual as well?" Tessa asked over her shoulder.
"Yes please," Draco answered. He spotted a copy of the Daily Prophet on top of the glass case and with a flick of his fingers, the paper was hovering across the shop to lay gently on his table.
"Want a side of bangers too?" Tessa questioned, a slight sizzling breaking the silence as she shut the sandwich press.
"Yes please," Draco repeated from behind the Prophet.
The pages crinkled as they turned themselves. Heavy aromas of heady sausage and melting cheese wafted over and he had to put the paper down as his mouth watered. Right on cue too, as the two small plates landed just in front of him, steam rising gently. On one plate was his usual - a thick sandwich of eggs, Applewood smoked bacon, and Gruyere cheese. On the other, three greasy sausage links sat on top of an American breakfast potato called hashbrowns.
"You do spoil me, Tessa," Draco said with an eager grin, picking up his fork and stabbing a sausage.
"When you're the only customer in here, you get special advantages," she responded, happy with his delight for her food, and turned back to the pastries.
Draco alternated between sipping his coffee, taking bites off the sandwich, and devouring bites of crispy hashbrowns or sausage. He had forgotten in his week-long absence from the Magically Delicious bakery just how much he enjoyed eating there. Granted, he had tried everything on the menu at least once and typically ordered the same thing, but the atmosphere and general feeling of warmth was enough to keep him coming back, even if just for a cup of coffee.
By the time both of his plates were empty, Tessa had filled one display case with cookies and brownies, glazed donuts and bright Cauldron cakes, macaroons of nearly every color, and puff pastries of any shape, flavor, and cheese variety. She was working on delicately placing a sliced loaf of garlic rosemary bread on a platter when her dark head snapped up at the sound of his chair scraping across the tiled floor.
"Done so soon?" She gave him a smirk. "You must have been famished."
Draco pushed his wooden chair back underneath the table and twirled a pair of long fingers to send his dirty plates and mug across the shop and into the soapy sink.
"I was," he agreed with the hint of a smile that grew wider as he glanced to the open doorway that lead into the back kitchen. "But moreso because I'd rather avoid seeing the twins if I can manage it."
Tessa too looked towards the back room and returned his grin. The twins, Lucy and Lana, were Tessa's cousins and her only two employees. Recent graduates from Ilvermorny, as was tradition for their family, the two young witches had taken an instant liking to Draco and the pair of them tended to distractedly fawn over him as only teenage girls could do. Flattering as it was, he tried to avoid their twittering and repeated compliments if he could help it.
"You better hurry up then - I had them preparing some more dough but even that cannot distract them for too long." Tessa wiped her flour dusted hands on a rag that was hanging off her belt and gestured to the pristine, stainless steel espresso machine. "Do you want another one to go?"
Not even needing to consider the question, Draco nodded his head and replied, "Yes please. Four shots with a splash of that sweet cream."
Tessa wordlessly shook her head that she understood him but turned to glance at the door as the golden bell tinkled the arrival of an elderly couple.
"Good morning," she brightly greeted the witch and wizard, and Draco stepped out of the way as the pair approached the counter, their wrinkled eyes focused on the menu board hanging on the back wall.
"Do you have any questions?" Tessa asked the husband and wife a moment later, her gaze on them as she approached Draco at the far end of the counter and handed him a tall cup of steaming espresso. The woman mumbled something to the man that had him raise his bushy eyebrows in consideration and Draco used the stilted moment to slide two shiny Galleons across the polished wood to where Tessa's hands were folded on top of each other.
"Thank you," he told her, motioning to the money and holding up his fresh cup of coffee. A grin bloomed when she opened her mouth to protest the over compensating payment for her food, but Draco was already hurrying towards the door and waving absently over his shoulder.
The morning air was fresh and crisp as he stepped outside. Draco inhaled deeply as one hand fidgeted in his coat pocket, searching until his fingers touched on the stiff corner of a small cardboard box. His eyes scanned the glossy, sunlit storefronts and he methodically opened the pack, retrieved a cigarette, and returned it to his pocket without looking at what he was doing. Placing the white, spongy filter between his lips, he held up one hand and snapped his fingers so that a small burst of flame lit the end of the cigarette. Draco inhaled deeply once more, and this time, he relished the taste of the minty smoke that he exhaled.
He continued smoking the Muggle cigarette as he ambled up High Street. At some point after picking up the habit, Draco had taught himself a neat little trick that nearly always startled the shocked witches and wizards who stared at him still. All it took was a slight rubbing of his fingers on the filter when he brought it to his mouth and magically the smoke he then exhaled would turn a mirage of colors. Or just one color if he chose so.
There had been one evening when he and Blaise were out at some piss pot bar, and an old drunk had accosted them for no apparent reason. The wizard was off his rocker and three sheets to the wind, and Draco had wanted an excuse to try out his new Charm. Blaise still lost it when he was reminded of how high the old drunk had flown out of his seat when Draco had turned around and blown flaming red smoke in his face. The entire bar had uproariously laughed at the trick and the subsequent reaction, and since then, Draco had been using it at parties and as a means of scandalizing the more nosy passers-by in the streets.
Unsurprisingly, his espresso was still steaming hot as he took a careful sip and turned onto the nearly empty East Street. Taking one last drag of his cigarette and snapping his fingers to disappear the butt completely, Draco switched his coffee to the other hand as EM Enterprises blurred into existence just ahead of him. The sight of the black building still brought a chest warming, exuberant grin to his pale face and that moment was no different, his eyes drinking in every detail as he approached the front door.
It opened without prompting so that he easily strode inside. The lights flickered to life at his appearance and Draco surveyed the storefront in the ensuing silence of the door shutting. Everything sat quietly in its respective places, the shadows creating a more sinister feeling than necessary. In the far back corner was a set of stairs that were almost imperceptible to the unknowing eye. They led to a second floor that was nearly empty save for a gigantic wardrobe that Draco used as a secondary closet for the occasions that his work became messy. He was also mindful to work on the more dangerous objects upstairs in a sort of bare containment room that he had created on the off chance that his shop assistant ventured curiously close.
Remembering that Astoria would not be in until nine o'clock, and that it was unlikely that a customer would come in before that, he thought about what he could tinker with and what needed his direct attention.
Draco removed his coat as he weaved around the various tables displaying odds and ends for sale. He smoothly rounded the long counter with the intent of going straight to his office but he caught sight of the appointment journal laying open and paused to make sure his meeting with a Mister Pelergin was still scheduled for the following morning. Nodding agreeably to himself as he saw the strangers name scrawled next to 10:00am for the next day, Draco had to look twice when he glanced a name written in small print for that very afternoon.
G. Weasley
Fuck.
He had almost completely forgotten that the female ginger was coming to see him in a few short hours. It had been all that he could think about after she had left last week - why he should take her appointment and what she could possibly need him for. But after the headache that was Sunday dinner at Malfoy Manor, Draco did all he could to focus on work while ignoring the echoes of Lucius's tauntings.
He seemed to have done too well on that front though because he had gone three full days without his compulsory ire for the Weasleys raising his blood pressure.
"Fuck," Draco said aloud this time. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Grunting loudly to the empty room, he glared at the calendar before flipping it shut and turning around to finally enter his office. There was no respite to be found in the cavernous room though as his focus was shifty at best. The minutes slowly ticked by as Draco did little more than watch the clock and pace. He had the thought that the four shots of espresso were only fueling the vast amounts of energy he had now but he could not fault the caffeine for the sharpness he also felt.
By the time Astoria Apparated in to work at exactly nine o'clock, Draco was fit to be tied. Clearly the coffee was doing its job as he launched into a rapid, one sided conversation about why she never should have encouraged Ginny Weasley to make an appointment. The younger witch merely smiled calmly and nodded appropriately during his tirade, her cloak floating in an opposite direction for the coat rack.
"Good morning to you too," Astoria finally replied when Draco had stopped talking long enough for her to assume she was allowed to speak.
Draco looked like a petulant child as his blonde head shook impatiently at his latest question. "What should I do about Weasley?"
"What's there to do?" Astoria asked, moving around the end of the counter and doing her best to appear casual as Draco followed her. "Should I make a welcome banner for her?" The sarcasm was unmistakable though her voice trembled slightly.
Draco rolled his eyes at her profile as Astoria diligently leafed through the business's journal and calendar.
"What if she brings Potter?" He waited a long pause to see if she would immediately assure him that the Chosen Asshole was not going to be walking through that door later. When she did not, he added in a most serious tone - "Are you prepared to help me dispose of one, possibly two, bodies because things became too confrontational with that idiot?"
The sincere question in his words drew her gaze from the handwritten pages. Astoria could barely contain her snort of laughter when she saw a glimpse of honest concern on Draco's handsome face. It was sweet though, seeing firsthand how much he valued his own business and the worry he had for possible threats to it.
"What could he do? We are doing nothing illegal here and he would have a hard time finding proof of anything similar. All he would end up doing is letting his temper and his childhood grudges make him the lesser wizard." Astoria looked at him pointedly, with an eyebrow arched, and Draco felt as if he was being berated by his mother. "Is that what you want, to stoop to his level, to not show him that you have grown up into a mature adult?"
"No," Draco said begrudgingly after a long moment wherein he opened and closed his mouth several times, almost rattling off a snippy response or a smart remark. "But -"
"But what?" Astoria rhetorically asked, anger seeming to leak into her words as she grew frustrated with his sudden insecurities. "Ginny Weasley is very unlikely to bring Potter with her. And if she does, you can promptly show him the door and make him wait outside."
"Yes but -"
"No buts - you have nothing to worry about. You are just working yourself up because you have yet to have direct contact with Potter or any of his lackies since the end of the War." Astoria was on a roll and Draco quickly wondered what had already happened that morning to have her in such a mood. That thought disappeared though as she pointed a finger at him and gave an expression reminiscent of McGonagall. "Whatever happened prior to four years ago has no bearing on the man you are today. Harry Potter has no idea of the wizard you are now and he certainly has no authority in any capacity to tell you whether you are or are not a good person. He is the one who should be worried about coming across your path - not the other way around."
Draco spluttered. Somewhere in her rant, his anger had risen to match hers. And though he knew she meant no ill intent with her bald speech, he took haughty offense to the way she said it.
"You think I'm afraid of Potter?" Draco said angrily. "Do you think that now that he's an Auror I should fear him?" He scoffed, the swelling of emotion gone from his chest though he kept on with his two Knuts. "I have never - not once in my life - have I ever felt any sort of fear for Harry Potter. He is a prat who is always in the right place at the right time. Nothing more than luck has made him into the celebrity that he is today."
Astoria met his glare with her own and they had a stare down for a long minute. Then she said, through gritted teeth -
"I only meant that you do not need to belittle yourself in thinking that you would have to impress upon him that you are not like your parents anymore."
"Of course not," Draco answered thickly, pride unable to let him apologize for taking his shock of nerves out on her. "It is a waste of time to expend the energy on him."
Astoria did not respond, but her flat expression conveyed her displeasure with his rudeness. Still, he could not back down. He would not say he was sorry - it was how he had felt in that moment and he would not apologize for his questioning of her.
"I'll be in my office if you need me," Draco told her without any prompting, nodding once, and turning around to walk into the back room, shutting the door as he went.
Still lying in the middle of his desk was a large envelope from Theodore Nott. He eyed the package and its contents as if they were the source of his sore mood. That was another puzzle in and of itself, something that he didn't think he would have the time for just yet. Not if a Weasley was voluntarily coming to his shop.
He had bigger things to ponder than the aspiring projects of old friends if he had that name on the docket for the day.
Draco paced up and down the length of the room for the better part of an hour. His hands would fold behind his back only to come free when he turned around to walk in the opposite direction, gesturing as if he were talking to someone other than himself. His arms would then angle themselves for his hands to clasp against the small of his back again, the routine starting over. It was not until he paused to have the water jug fill a glass for him that a moving picture for an article in the Daily Prophet about the Quidditch World Cup caught his eye.
The host country had been announced the previous night and the Wizard journalist who had written the article went to great lengths to enhance the beautiful locations of Australia instead of its scorching weather.
It was enough of a distraction that Draco took the Prophet and his glass of icy water to the plush couch and sat down. If he had been adverse to any country he had visited, it had been Australia. He had thoroughly enjoyed the sights and food and people, but the extreme wildlife was more than he could handle. He was all for magical creatures but finding a scorpion in his shoe the size of his fist was not an experience he wished to repeat.
As he read about the new Vice Chair for the Magical Committee for International Horticulture and Gardening and an upcoming gala for a some charity event or another, his mind drifted away from work and into the social and political scenes of the British Wizarding World. He took notice of the articles that Lucius would find intriguing and he smiled smally whenever he came across an advertisement or announcement that he thought Narcissa would enjoy. A small paragraph about two underage wizards being reprimanded for sneaking into a Muggle girl's birthday party caused him to chuckle and think of Blaise. Becoming engrossed in the newspaper was the exact diversion Draco needed to push those lingering thoughts of Ginny Weasley to the back of his mind.
It was not until Astoria knocked on his office door and gently opened it that Draco looked up at the clock. Half noon. He had been reading the Prophet from cover to cover for nearly two hours.
"Do you want lunch?" She asked lightly, for all intents and purposes seeming like she had moved past their spat from earlier.
"What are you getting?" Draco asked, folding the Prophet and putting it down on the couch next to him.
Astoria shrugged, one hand still on the door knob. "Something from the Three Broomsticks."
"Are you bringing it back here?"
"I can."
Draco considered her for a moment before reaching into his pocket and producing three shiny Galleons.
"Get me a roasted chicken, extra mashed. Please."
Astoria nodded and moved across the short space to take the money he was offering her.
"Anything else?" She asked once she had stowed the coins away.
Draco grinned unprompted, his mind jumping to the various pastries from Magically Delicious that he could request.
"That's all," he said easily and Astoria gave him a once over as if to visibly check that he was alright. His grin had turned maniacal, thoughts of sweets and cakes making him extraordinarily giddy. Maybe he would send an owl to Tessa and have her send something to his house for when he got home later.
"Alright," Astoria said, striding from the room and shutting the door behind her. Moments later he heard the front door open and close.
Getting to his feet with the ill remembrance of the meeting he was not looking forward to that afternoon, Draco wandered in circles around the three large tables in his office. Odds and ends, items and books caught his eye as he walked. Though nothing jumped out at him as an immediate job to complete, his fingers lightly traced the outline of a glass lidded box that was enchanted with fangs to bite anyone who wasn't the owner.
Picking it up, he pressed opposite corners of the box into the pads of his fingers and stared unseeing at his reflection in the glass.
He had heard mention of Weasley telling Astoria that she needed a house cleaned of Dark items. Could she mean the Burrow, the mismatched, teetering house her family lived in? A grimace contorted his face at the thought of entering a lion's den full of redheads. Surely the good and holy Weasleys would not have anything even remotely resembling a Dark artifact in their home.
But which house could she mean then?
As far as he knew, the flat that Weasley shared with Potter was almost brand new and highly unlikely to be a storage place for any Dark items that the glorified Auror was even less likely to have. There was a slight possibility that one of her brothers - he knew at least one of them worked in what was considered a dangerous profession - had unknowingly given her a gift of unmanageable proportions. But even that seemed unlikely given how thorough he assumed Potter was with any mysterious objects that came into his home.
There was one other place he knew he ought to consider…
Once more Astoria interrupted his silence, the sounds of the front door opening and closing giving him a moment to anticipate her coming into the office. Draco looked up expectantly as she appeared in the doorway, this time with a bulging bag floating before her.
"D'ou get everything alright?" He asked, not waiting for her answer as he stood up and walked towards his desk that now bore ample empty space for their food.
"Rosmerta was in a fit with the lunch crowd," Astoria began, waving her wand so that the contents of the bag removed themselves and hovered to the table. "She told me to send an owl ahead of time so she wouldn't be rushed to get the order together."
Draco made a noise that sounded like a sigh and a huff.
"Better you than me to go in there," he said vaguely. He still felt a twinge of shame at the memory of Imperiusing the barmaid during his sixth year.
"Yes I do so enjoy being ogled and hollered at by drunk wizards at noon," Astoria responded sharply and Draco felt the distinct impression that maybe she wasn't over their spat from that morning.
"We'll send an owl next time and have it delivered," he stated simply as if that should solve the entire dilemma.
"That would be much quicker," Astoria conceded after a pregnant moment where the only sounds were their utensils clinking against the wooden table as they appeared magically.
Lunch was a quiet affair. So much so that, without looking, Draco twitched his fingers at a wireless radio on a nearby shelf to set it to life with a steady stream of music. A newer hit from the Weird Sisters gave noise to the room and they continued to eat, not a word said between them. The plates disappeared as quickly as they had appeared and the trash wrapped itself into a ball that floated to the trashcan of its own accord. Astoria stood and her chair magicked away too.
"Your appointment with Ms. Weasley is in one hour - would you like me to prepare an information sheet for you?"
Her hands clasped behind her back and she looked, for all purposes, like a model employee waiting for instruction. But Draco saw the tension in the line of her shoulders and the stiffness in her normally relaxed stance.
"Yes, thank you," he responded just as formally. "No need to rush though."
"Certainly," Astoria agreed, and with a curt nod, she left the office.
Draco cocked his blonde head at the closed door, his fingers steepling before him as his thick but short ponytail brushed his collar. Maybe he should talk to Astoria before Weasley arrived. Her - odd - behavior was out of character. Maybe it was time he acted like a good employer and held a staff meeting.
He snorted at that thought and rose to his feet on legs that were stiffer than they ought to be. Joints creaked and cracked as he stretched his arms and twisted his head from side to side. Perhaps one day soon he would acquire some exercise equipment for one of the empty rooms upstairs. Merlin knew his body needed the work outs.
Mind racing for any thought that wasn't about Weasley competed with long, pale fingers that itched to do something. His mercurial eyes were moving just as fast as they sought out anything for him to do while he waited for his afternoon appointment. A random book lying on the edge of a shelf instead of neatly shoved in line drew his attention. Picking it up and wondering when he had picked out Trolls, Misgivings and Misconceptions last, Draco felt slightly irritated when he noticed that several other books were out of order.
Could nobody put anything back where they found it after they were done using it?
Frustrated but grateful for the distraction, Draco pulled several tomes from their mistaken places and stacked them in one arm. Though he was mindful to keep one eye on the clock, he was soon immersed in this new task and the slight giddiness he felt when organizing needed done.
D/G
Why did her blasted fingers have to choose now to be so bloody uncooperative?
Ginny's hands were shaking enough that she had tried and failed four times to slid the button of her trousers into its corresponding hole. Huffing loudly and feeling the bottomless need to just do something right, she gripped the knobby corners and slowly, methodically, pushed the button into place. After pulling a shirt on and sliding her arms into the sleeves of an inky black robe, Ginny scowled at nothing in particular and strode from the bedroom.
Of all days for her to have scheduled this bloody appointment with Draco bleeding Malfoy.
"Fucking! - Merlin -!" Ginny exclaimed loudly, kicking the offending table leg that she had hit her foot on in her anxious haste to check the doors before she left. A very frustrated scream escaped up her throat, though it came out only half as loud as she wished to express herself, and Ginny had to grip the rough edges of the kitchen table to control the anger that was ready to consume her.
The last thing that she wanted to do when the previous night's loss was still so fresh was to willingly go visit Malfoy. But she would rather cut off her thumbs than send an owl to cancel.
Pride was a silly thing.
After several long minutes of steady inhaling and exhaling, Ginny opened her tired eyes and squared her shoulders. One way or another, she was ready to do this damn thing. Glancing sideways, the clock told her it was already 2:23.
Time to get moving.
It was scarcely a minute later that her boots touched down on the sturdy platform at the Hogsmeade Station. Some heads turned to watched her walk off into the village, but most of the commuters didn't pay her any attention as they too bustled to or from the Apparation point.
The village was just as lively as ever and Ginny felt some of her anger slip away as she took in the familiar sights. The consistent swinging of the door into the Three Broomsticks, the curl of smoke coming off the chimney at Magically Delicious, the distant pink of Honeydukes, the faint glimmer of sunlight off the windows at Spintwitches Sporting Goods - it was all like a breath of fresh air and an equalizer for her mood.
Taking her time as she walked up High Street, Ginny paused to look in storefront windows and smiled at the passing witches and wizards who greeted her. It was all so familiar, and yet still like a Wizarding painting brought to life. Some things, she thought, never lost their sparkle.
Except the grin fell from her face as she came up to Zonko's. The once bright and vivacious store was locked up and a giant SOLD! sign was plastered to t he front door.
Change, it seemed, was the only constant.
Ginny kept her eyes on the former joke shop and a frown on her freckled face as she mechanically moved with the flow of the street. The intersection of East Street refocused her attention and with a fleeting jolt of nerves, she turned left onto the less crowded avenue and walked past Scrivenshaft's. As the black building next to it came into focus, Ginny felt a wave of determination that quickened her steps and squared her shoulders.
Glancing at her watch as her hand reached for the silver handle, she noticed that she was right on time. Perfectly punctual. Ginny pulled the door open and stepped inside EM Enterprises.
G/D
He heard the front door shut and something rolled over in his stomach. Was it 2:30 already? Draco laid the two books haphazardly back on the edge of a shelf and automatically began walking across his office.
Faintly he could hear Astoria greeting Ginny Weasley, though the latter's response was muffled. His hands twitched but Draco shook them at his sides, clenching them for good measure. The time for unease had gone. He just had to get through this appointment as quickly as possible and he could return to forgetting that the Weasleys even existed.
The door opened before him and like a showman making his grand entrance, Draco appeared behind the counter with the bright office light illuminating him.
"Well well," he drawled, and the smirk he wore combined with the sneering tone he used made him sound very much like his younger self. "If it isn't a Weasley visiting us once again."
"Good afternoon to you too, Malfoy," Ginny said with a too wide smile and a trace of sarcasm.
"Is it time for our appointment already?, Or did you come in looking for some shelter and clean water, or air maybe?"
His remark, if anything, turned her smile more genuine. Malfoy was nowhere near a friend but his upfront comment made her feel strangely at home. Ginny chalked it up to familiarity and pressed her palm to the edge of the counter, leaning forward as Astoria stared at the pair of them blankly.
"With all of the smugness surrounding you, I highly doubt there is any clean air in here."
"How could you smell it past the stench of not bathing that is coming off you?"
Ginny scoffed, appearing affronted as well as she could manage while a smirk threatened to break her indignant expression.
"That is the smell of sweat and hard work, Malfoy - something I'm not sure you would ever understand."
Draco crossed his arms across his chest so that the muscles in his forearms rippled as he clenched and unclenched his hands at the insides of his elbows. He was going for the snobbish persona that he thought she was expecting but in actuality, he was buzzing with excitement for the numerous possibilities to pester and annoy that the youngest Weasley presented.
"Well when you're as handsome as I am -" Draco unfurled his arms and his right hand gestured up and down to himself. "Sweating is hardly something to worry about. That's what good House elves are for. Though I'm sure Potter still has you do all of those chores for him."
Ginny arched an eyebrow, wondering when his insults could change and telling him as much.
"You know after all of these years, I would have thought you would have found something else to goad me about." She let a small tinkle of laughter bubble past her slightly parted lips. Her reaction did not irritate him as she anticipated but somehow his resulting smirk seemed to settle them fully into comfortable, antagonistic roles. "The bits about the poor, dirty Weasleys just don't hit so strongly anymore."
"Would you like me to go on then about how stupid your brother is and how he lucked into his job as an Auror because of Saint Potter?"
Draco raised a pale brow this time and he had the fleeting wonder for why he had ever thought this would go negatively. At the very least he was going to get some insults thrown at Weasley - at the very worst he had worried that she would be a know-it-all, but her tongue was sharper than he remembered.
Ginny seemed to seriously contemplate his offer but merely shrugged, letting her arm fall back to her side.
"I don't think we have the time for that." A grin played at the corners of her lips at the slight towards Ron, and she gave a moment's pause to let her dual implication set in before studiously adding, "Unless you would rather I reschedule our business appointment so that we can chat like old pals."
As the light caught the mischievous glimmer of challenge in her chocolate gaze, a realization hit Draco like a ton of bricks that wiped the smugness off his face.
They were flirting. Kind of.
Slight as it may be, without true malice and conviction behind their words just yet, he and Ginny Weasley were unconsciously flirting in its stead. It was a childish, 'I'll be mean to you because girls are icky', school yard flirting, but they were bantering nonetheless.
"I -" he began but the almost forgotten Astoria interjected, clearing her throat and taking a half step forward so that she was brushing the edge of the counter.
"You should begin your - meeting so that you're not late for your 3:30 appointment with the French diplomat."
Astoria did not look at him directly but kept her eyes focused on the edge of his collar, raising both eyebrows as if he should know what she was talking about. But Draco had not the faintest clue what other appointment she was referencing. Taking it in stride, he assumed that she was planting the idea that he had a schedule to maintain and not any extra time to waste on idle chat. He was grateful for her foresight and nodded agreeably, raising a hand as if to take something.
"Yes, mustn't have the Frenchman kept waiting. Do you have the parchment for Weasley here?"
Astoria extended her own hand and as if by magic, a creamy scroll appeared within her fingers so that she handed it off to Draco seamlessly.
"Thank you," he said automatically but the dark haired witch was already moving past him and around the end of the counter.
"I will be in the garden if you have need of me," Astoria told him breezily, only pausing to meet Ginny's gaze and nod once before she disappeared into the shadows. The clicking of an assumed back door was the only indication that she had indeed gone outside.
Draco coughed as if clearing his throat, the noise awkward in the stiff silence of their aloneness.
"We should get to it then," he said, not exactly enthusiastically. "If you'll just come into my office, we can have a sit down and discuss the reason for you darkening my doorstep today."
Ginny rolled her eyes but followed his instructions. The mood had shifted imperceptibly, enough that she noticed the sudden pep in Malfoy's stride that spoke of swagger and arrogance. She was suddenly irritated with him and this bloody meeting and her ignorance for thinking that this had been a good idea. No one would believe her if she told them this was where she had spent her afternoon, and it would certainly raise eyebrows if word caught wind and spread like Fiendfyre.
Draco was already sitting in a large, high backed leather chair that seemed to have wheels on it when she walked into the back room. He rotated to face Ginny and drank in the suppressed look of appreciation that flitted over her freckled face as she took in his office. He noticed her curious eyes stop on the odder objects visible from that far end of the room and squint as if to read the titles of the books along the walls.
"Sit down, Weasley," Draco told Ginny after he allowed her a long moment to admire his work space. "I don't have all afternoon to wait for you to tell me why you're here."
Ginny glanced sideways at him, half a glare narrowing her gaze and pursing her lips. A rounded leather chair moved itself out from underneath the nearest work table and nudged up against the back of her knees until Ginny acquiesced and sat down.
"I am in need for your services, Malfoy," she said as if she was talking to a child. "Why else would I be here?"
"Oh I don't know -" Draco started, sarcasm dripping from his words as he picked up a random quill and twirled it around. "Maybe you're looking for a reason to send your lovely fiancée out here to investigate me."
Ginny rolled her eyes so widely that she thought she might make herself dizzy. Why did it always come back to Harry with Malfoy?
Folding her arms across her middle and crossing one leg over the other, she pushed her shoulders back and stared flatly at the blonde wizard in front of her.
"Harry does not know I am here, nor does he know what I'm planning to do with your hired services."
A devious smirk blossomed across Draco's pale, handsome features and Ginny almost held her breath for the remark she had pretty much walked into.
"Woah there Weasley - you will have to buy me dinner before we talk about those services."
Ginny sighed as her lips quirked and her arms uncrossed so that she laid her forearms flat along the arms of the chair, her hands gripping the rounded ends and her knuckles turning white.
"I highly doubt that I am the first witch to tell you this, Malfoy, but I would not touch your naked body with a ten foot broom."
Draco smirked, mirroring her pursed lips and arched brow.
"Well that is a shame for you - I am quite the perfect specimen in my naked form."
He winked salaciously and nearly laughed at the disgusted expression that Ginny did not fail to hide this time.
"I think I'll leave that - endeavor to lesser witches."
"As you wish," Draco replied and he winked once more, just to see her squirm.
Rotating in his rolling chair so that he was sitting at his desk, he kept his body turned towards Ginny as he stared down at the blank information sheet. Draco absently spun the emerald quill between his fingers, his eyes dancing over the empty lines that would be filled in with the details of Weasley's desired services.
"Tell me what it is that you need then," he said bluntly, breaking the stilted silence that seemed to go on and on, and startling Ginny.
But she did not answer his demand. Instead Ginny pointedly glanced to the three wide tables that had collected Dark objects.
"Why did you open this place, Malfoy?" It was a question that she had been burning to ask. "Did you fancy yourself a bit like Borgin and Burkes, wanting to deal with substandard witches and wizards for the rest of your life? Did you want to make money off other people's things?"
The query did not rankle him as it might have previously. Draco did not think it a prying question and he was ready with the same response he had given his friends over a year ago. If he was to have a business relationship with any client, he expected the need to divulge his business's intentions at some point in the initial discussions.
"I am better than Borgin and Burkes. I employ discretion and privacy. I will take your Dark objects and remove the Curses so that they are usable items again. I can fix your broken objects and sell them for twice the value so that we both make a profit. Or I can take your Dark objects and make them -" Draco snapped his fingers, focusing her attention and concluding his speal. "Disappear. The options are yours to choose from."
"Can you remove objects that don't want to be removed?"
Draco crossed one leg with his ankle on his knee and leaned back with an elbow pressed into the arm of his large chair, looking the picture of comfort as he absently twirled his fingers in a noncommittal gesture.
"That would depend on the strength of the Charm in place but I have been known to work my magic on even the most stubborn items."
He smiled lazily but Ginny took on a thoughtful expression, considering what he was saying.
It might be worth the retainer fee he required just to see how long it would take to completely and totally rid Number Twelve of its Dark past. Coming from a pureblooded family and understanding the prominence that was involved with that simple fact, Ginny felt a twinge of guilt for wanting to get rid of the history that the Black family had instilled in Grimmauld Place. But she was also not going to permanently live there if Walburga Black was hanging across from the front door to scream at her every day.
"Would you do the work yourself or would you send someone else?" Ginny paused and at Draco's raised brows and silent question, she elaborated. "A colleague or an associate."
Draco shook his blonde head, his ponytail momentarily appearing as he grinned lazily.
"It is just I who does the dirty work around here."
Lines formed horizontally across her forehead and he had the feeling that she was trying not to appear impressed that he was a one-man operation. So to speak.
"And you're willing to travel?"
"It doesn't sound like this - thing is going to be coming to me, Weasley."
Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Obviously not - it's stuck to a wall."
"What is?" Draco asked, leaning forward and pressing an elbow into the knee that rested on top of the other.
"The portrait," Ginny answered vaguely, appearing nonplussed as she realized his attempt for information.
"A portrait of what?"
"A portrait of a very mean, very obnoxious witch that was left in the house that Harry inherited," she spit out, the words almost too fast for him to properly understand.
Draco gave a curious hmm and narrowed his silver eyes as the corners of his lips quirked up.
"Now we're getting somewhere, Weasley."
Unable to contain the energy that had her foot lightly tapping on the rug, Ginny got to her feet and began pacing. Draco turned in his chair to watch the movements of her back, feeling satisfied that he had her rankled. But she had given him the last clues that he had been looking for - she had confirmed what he had already guessed at.
"Are you speaking of the house in London that my dear cousin Sirius Black left to Scarhead?"
Ginny froze minutely and it was enough for Draco to silently congratulate himself. It wasn't like that was a fact that he couldn't have found out by simply paying off the right person at the Ministry. Even his mother probably could have told him about that. But having it confirmed by a Weasley felt like his enemy was giving up a secret to him.
Though she couldn't really be his enemy if they were working together. Or he for her. Whichever.
"Yes," Ginny answered stiffly, and she moved along the aisle towards the far end of the room.
"And are you interested in my services merely for the opportunity to pawn my distant relatives junk off on me?"
Ginny moved around the corner of the third, far table and when Draco saw her face again, she was near enough to smirking that he thought she was expecting this avenue to come up in conversation.
"Do you not think your mother would be more than willing to accept priceless Black family heirlooms?"
He contemplated that question. He would have to actually inspect the items to give a definitive yes but Draco was almost certain that Narcissa would in fact adopt any artifacts that were left from her once relatives. She and her sister Andromeda were two of the very few Blacks left and family possessions were hard to come by.
"Is that the only reason you sought out this appointment with me? Because you hoped I would do this job for a minimal fee and remove certain things for free?"
Ginny was at the opposite corner of the room, one hand trailing absently along the edge of the table as she stared at him. Surely even her distance could not mistake the disdain in his words.
"Partially, yes," she said with less scruples than he anticipated. "But I also heard that you were the best and I cannot imagine that I would be able to find a more discrete service as it pertains to what the Black family may have left behind."
Unease should have stirred in his stomach at the implication of his relative's Dark belongings being found by a more Ministry trusting fool, but again Draco was intrigued by the notion that this Weasley would give him the option to handle it himself. Even if there was still an unseen angle that she was working.
"I see," he said shortly and his fingers steepled together after his elbows rested on the ends of the chair's arms.
Ginny walked slowly, moving between the third and second tables and coming out in the aisle so that she was directly facing Draco. She kept her unreadable eyes on him until she turned between the second and first table, and paced down that narrower aisle.
"And exactly how many items do you specifically need my services for?"
"Precisely?" She threw over a shoulder cheekily as she moved towards a bookcase instead of walking around the first table.
"A roundabout number, Weasley," Draco said, patience running thin in his words.
"Well - there's the portrait, and a tapestry of the family tree - " He didn't have to see her expression to know that she was relishing in the long seconds it took for her to pretend to pause and consider what other objects would require his attention. But the second item she oh so casually mentioned was enough to seal the deal for him. A Black family tapestry would be an excellent Christmas present for Narcissa. "And several - sentimental items that were left behind."
Pale eyebrows arched. Ginny paced away from the shelves on the far wall and lazily approached the chair she had been sitting in minutes ago. She sat down and crossed one leg over the other, fixing Draco with a blank, waiting stare.
One minute passed.
Two minutes.
This felt like a test to Ginny. Break eye contact and his services would not be available to her.
Four minutes.
After a full six minutes of silence grudgingly elapsed, Draco turned to fully face his desk and returned the tip of the quill to the parchment. The scribbling of the writing instrument mixed with the faint sounds of their breathing as he took several more minutes to fill in the blank lines on the business agreement.
"Will you do it then?" Ginny asked when it seemed like the quiet would endlessly continue.
Without looking up or pausing the movement of the quill, Draco responded, sounding heavily like Severus Snape with his condescending tone.
"I would have thought that since I haven't tossed you out onto the street yet that you would have realized that I was willing to take on your case."
Ginny made no immediate retort, holding her tongue with her remark on how hot and cold his temperament ran. Following his lead had gotten her this far, if she wanted to cleanse Grimmauld Place she had to continue this strategy. Watching as he shuffled the parchment he was writing on underneath a leather bound notebook, she waited impatiently with her lips pursed tightly together.
"I can meet with you again in two weeks - on October 4th," Draco told her almost suddenly, glancing sideways with an expectant countenance as if he were eager to be done with this particular meeting.
"What time is available in your busy schedule, Malfoy?" Ginny said, acid leaking into her tone despite the small turn of a smile on her lips.
He glanced back down at what she realized was the business calendar, and looked back up with raised brows that tried and failed to look inquisitory.
"One in the afternoon?"
"That won't foul up any one of your numerous lunch dates?"
Draco barked a laugh. "Business before pleasure, Weasley."
Her immediate look of disgust and slight question brought a smirk to his handsome features. It vanished as quickly as it came and Ginny smoothed her expression into tolerable agreement.
"One o'clock will work just fine."
"Good," Draco crisply replied and returned his attention to the parchment. He scrawled a few more things, rotated, and handed the quill out to her as he gestured to the paper. "If you'll just sign at the bottom here - we can each go on with the rest of our days."
Ginny looked skeptical but took the quill he offered.
"Isn't this a bit - Muggle for you?" She asked, her eyes rapidly moving from his gaze to the parchment and back. At the slight tilt of his head in silent question, Ginny elaborated. "I would think that you would employ a binding Charm when you signed agreements with clients."
Draco smiled tightly, wondering when the shoe had switched to the other foot.
"That is an Enchanted quill," he nodded to the writing utensil in her hand but Ginny did not look away from him. "You will find it quite difficult to renege on payment or any other aspect of our contract once you have signed with it."
Now she did glance at the seemingly innocuous quill, twirling it between her fingers before gripping it more firmly.
"Give it here then, Malfoy," Ginny said and indicated the parchment still sitting in front of Draco on the desk. "I'm not signing anything without reading it first."
He half nodded at her as if to say touche and sent the yellowed paper floating through the air so that it stopped in front of her. Ginny's freckled face disappeared behind the parchment as she read every detail and Draco held back the heavy sigh that should have followed the rolling of his eyes.
"This is all well and good, Malfoy," Ginny said a moment later, her red hair swishing along her shoulders as she angled her head to see around the floating parchment. "But you have yet to ask me the physical address. Should that not be -"
"Keep reading, Weasley," Draco interrupted her, momentarily thinking about propping his feet up on the end of his desk. "There is a line for you to write it down."
Ginny vanished behind the parchment again and he heard the quill tip scratching across the paper. In all honesty, he had expected more attitude out of this Weasley, more of the fiery disposition that she displayed on the Quidditch pitch, but Draco also wasn't going to complain about a business meeting going smoothly. Especially this meeting.
"Here," Ginny told him, sending the parchment and quill floating back to him with a twist of her hand. Draco apprehended the feathered pen as the now signed paper landed on his desk, gently bounced once, then neatly rolled in on itself. "Your contract is signed and ready."
"That wasn't so hard, was it, Weasley?" Draco rhetorically said, placing the quill on top of the closed calendar, and brushing imaginary lint from his trousers as he stood up.
"So long as you don't count the time I had to spend alone with you," Ginny replied smartly, getting to her feet as well, and smiling sweetly.
"Unless I'm mistaken, and you intend to leave me to my work at your home - I very much think we will be spending several hours alone together in the near future." His right brow quirked and Draco shoved his hands into his pants pockets as he leaned backwards and seemed to sway in place.
"Don't remind me, Malfoy," Ginny told him with a slight eye roll.
He grinned. Working with Weasley was going to be quite interesting.
She turned to walk towards the door but Draco removed a hand and held it out to her. Ginny looked at it as if it were covered in slime before glancing up at him skeptically.
He wore a thin lipped smile that appeared a touch too friendly for their shared history.
Tentatively, she raised a freckled hand and slid it inside his, almost apprehensive at the firmness of his handshake.
"I look forward to our next meeting," Draco said, squeezing Ginny's fingers.
"That makes one of us," she told him and released his hand, making a show of wiping her palm along her robes as if it were now dirty.
"If that's all?..." Ginny leadingly asked, but she was already taking several steps towards the door and the rest of her afternoon.
"Until next time," Draco said mysteriously, and he gave her a casual wink as she exasperatedly sighed and slammed the door behind her on her way out of his office.
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A/N: Sorry for the wait! But I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Life has been somewhat crazy the last few weeks and some days my head just wasn't in the space to write. But I have persevered and finished it so that the bulk of the story can progress. Please leave me a review if you liked it, or don't be afraid to send me a message if reviews are not your style. I'm looking forward to the next chapter and I hope you are too!