A/N: Grats for the new follows and feedback. Although the story is framed out to the conclusion, lemme know what you think. There's still wiggle room and I take comments to heart for future stories... Thanks for reading.
And Wake Me With The Morning Light
12. It's a Dirty Job
The days since Hermione's accident had turned into weeks. Draco was getting better at recognizing the mood swings his wife was in and what they meant. Most could be attributed to her being a bit unfamiliar in her new surroundings. (new, because she couldn't remember the old ones) Gradually the issues of his wife's memory loss began to take a back seat to newer and more immediate problems.
He had to find work. But that little bit of business had turned out to be devilishly hard – he had searched all over Diagon Alley and turned up nothing. He had tried the same shops and businesses so often they went running for the back as soon as he hit the front door. His family had made a bad name for themselves during the war, and now he was caught out in the cold. Hippocrates had tried to help but was probably restricted from doing so by the hospital's board of directors.
It might be a matter of months, (perhaps years) but his mother would eventually have to soften her stand. She couldn't keep him locked out of the family fortune forever. But by the time she would be forced to relent, a valuable slice of life might be long gone. And Hermione with it. No – he had to find something now and going outside Diagon Alley would be the way to do it.
Looking through the London Times, and several minor newspapers, he had been working the most favorable areas of town. His search showed the new department store nearest their flat was in need of new employees. Fantasies flowed through his head of selling mens suits or perhaps ladies footwear. He backed up mentally and erased that part about ladies footwear. The entrance to Ellis and Burkes was coming up just around the corner.
Pulling open the huge butter smooth glass doors, he paused to take in the bustling activity as he peered into the madness. There were shoppers everywhere. A nearby sign explained it: Everything in the Store, 30 Percent Off.
Ambling around aimlessly, he finally bounced into a concierge booth in the middle of the store. He stood there for a few moments hoping to get the attention of the attendant.
"Good morning sir," she said in a falsetto voice. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, I hope. You see – I'm looking for a job," he said in a frailly.
The attendant's expression changed from the mindless smile she wore for customers and changed into something more professional. Digging into a drawer of papers and brochures, she produced a colorfully printed map of the store. Circling his target with a felt pen, she pointed to the location and handed Draco the map.
"Human Resources is right here," she said, pointing now at the map. "You shouldn't have any trouble at all sir."
"Thank you," he said. "Thank you very much."
The attendant smiled the same silly smile she smiled for customers and went back to work – whatever that was. Draco nodded and went straight away in the direction highlighted on the map. Carefully navigating with the map through the crowded store he found a small office and the end of a hidden corridor. 'Human Resources' was stenciled with paint over a translucent pane of glass in the door. Testing the door, it was not locked and Draco entered the office and looked around to see a small wooden desk in the corner. For all it's lavish decoration and use of color on the sales floor, the Human Resources department was dull and shabby.
The desk's occupant was absent and there were no chairs for guests to sit. He paced the floors loudly and within a few minutes a smallish woman with a bun of steel grey hair entered the room, nursing a white coffee cup that was nearly yellow from years of use. She looked as though she'd been expecting him and handed him an employment application fastened to a clipboard and a pencil hanging onto the board by a string.
"You'll want to fill this out first," she said, authoritatively.
"Huh?"
"You're here for a job right!"
"For sure, but..."
"Well, fill out the form," she ordered and laughed. "There's a desk in the next room."
Following the woman's advice he stepped into an adjoining room and took a seat onto what appeared to be a small school desk. The application was composed entirely of troubling questions like: work experience, level of school completed, university and the like. He answered with private tutoring for all the school questions and clandestinely used Hippocrates and his public service work at St. Mungo's for work experience.
Looking over the application, he felt his spirits sag and his hopes in finding a job fade. He strongly considered dropping the application in the trash on his way out but a vision of losing the flat increased his resolve. He gave it to the H.R. worker who was still nursing her coffee in the nearly yellow cup.
"This doesn't look like much work experience?" she muttered, absentmindedly while continuing to read
"No, not a lot."
"Private tutoring... we don't see much of that. I'd say it was codswallop if you weren't from Wiltshire," she said, and fixed a stern eye on Draco. "You are from Wiltshire?"
"Most assuredly," he replied, laconically.
"It's not much," she said and dropped the application on the desk.
Draco, following her comment, nodded briefly and started toward the door.
"But..." she injected and Draco froze in his tracks. "With the Holiday season just around the corner, we might have something for you."
Draco looked at the woman incredulously. She was scribbling something down on company stationary, which she fastened to his application. When finished, she gave it a quick look-over and handed it to Draco.
"Follow those directions to Mister Jenks."
"Jenks?" asked Draco.
"Yes, he'll be the man you'll want to see," she added and went off to refill the yellowed coffee cup.
Draco said thanks to the woman and scurried off in the direction the map showed Mister Jenks to be. Following the map through the mens shop, his spirits began to lift. Maybe there was a job in menswear after all. But then the map proved him wrong. No, he was to cross over the mens department and continue on to Children's Fashions. He found the children's department and looked around for the man the H.R. lady had referred to as Jenks. There were a few sales-people about, but all were helping customers. In one corner of the shop there a small staging area. The area was adorned with balloons and tinsel and a clown in a bright striped suit and long floppy shoes was passing out sweets. Draco waited until all the kids had received sweets and then made his way up to the clown.
"You're a little old for sweets," the clown quipped before Draco could speak.
"I'm looking for someone," Draco corrected the clown.
"Fair enough – and if I can't help you I'll give you some sweets."
Draco sneered as the man's attempt at humor.
"I'm looking for Blaine Jenks," Draco said, looking at the note.
"Let me see that," ordered the clown, and Draco handed the note over. The clown removed his oversized glasses and read out loud. "Blaine, speak to this man about a job – Clarice," he read and immediately looked up at Draco.
"So do you know Blaine Jenks or do I get my sweets?" quipped Draco.
"I sure do – right this way."
Draco nodded and followed the clown through a narrow passageway and into a small office behind a stockroom. He took off his comically constructed sky blue top hat and tossed it on the desk. His white makeup line disappeared above the hatband.
"I'm Blaine Jenks," he said at length.
"You!"
"I sure am. And who are you sir?" he demanded.
"Draco Malfoy."
"Okay mister Malfoy – it says here you're looking for a job... and that you have experience with children."
"That's right."
"Well, do you think you're cut out for this kind of work?"
"And what kind of work is that sir?"
"Just what you see here," he said and pointed to himself. "Entertainment – we're in the entertainment business. When children come into our shop we show em something different – we make em happy. When the kids are happy they want to buy our clothes - our toys and costumes. Yep, that what we do here," he added and swelled up with pride.
"So I'm to dress as a clown then?"
"Didn't say that. Didn't say that at all – oh you might – if the job calls for it. But no, I had you pegged for a cowboy. You know, a cowboy from the American west? We also have a commando action man costume and a Captain Britain kit. Have you ever fancied any of those characters?"
Draco paused and pretended to take the question seriously.
"No. Can't say that I have."
"Well, there's a first time for everything. We have a cowboy outfit that's just about your size," he said, eying Draco's physique. "Jeans, red flannel shirt, boots and hat with chaps and a leather vest. Oh and guns of course. No cowboy would be complete without guns. Your somewhat tall and a little thin – Slim, yeah Texas Slim would be a good name for you."
Draco sat there stunned – not completely sure of what he was hearing. The clown reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a cassette tape.
"You'd have to work out a voice," he added and showed Draco the tape.
"A voice..."
"Yeah, things like 'Howdy partner' and 'Thems the best boots this side of the Rio Grande'. Yeah, things like that. There's plenty of examples on this tape," he went on and smiled.
Draco wasn't completely sure he could believe what he was hearing. Had life really come down to this? He, Draco Lucius Malfoy was to put on a clown outfit – correct that – a cowboy outfit to amuse children? What if I'm was spotted, was the first thing that entered his mind. But this shop was far away from Diagon Alley, he wasn't likely to be seen. But if he was – if Pansy or Blaise, or worse the Weasel – he'd never live it down.
The clown thumped on the desk loudly three times.
"Mister Malfoy – you still there? If the cowboy thing doesn't work you can try something else on for size."
"What does the job pay?" he asked, somberly.
"It starts at minimum wage, just like all positions at Ellis and Burkes. If you do a good job, you could see more. Now that the Holiday season is coming up, we'll need need all the help we can get and you'll be busy - after that - not so much. But if you do a good job, who knows, we may be able to find something else for you."
A week ago he wouldn't have blinked twice at this offer. But now – with the wolves at their door, Draco had to find a way to help. If he turned this job down then he might not find another before they were forced to move out. And if they did move out, it was a lead pipe cinch Hermione wouldn't be taking him with her. He tried to think of Hermione as he weighed the options. He tried to remember her as she felt in his arms Saturday night – and the morning after.
"Okay, I'll take it."
‡‡‡‡‡
"It's not anything to write home about, but I've got a job," Draco announced over dinner.
Hermione almost choked on her pumpkin juice. "You what?"
"I have a job," he repeated, flatly.
"Well Draco – that's great. Whad you find – and where?" she asked, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.
"Really - it's not much Hermione. But it's with Ellis and Burkes. You know – that new department store?"
"Yeah, of course I know Ellis and Burkes. So you gave up on Diagon Alley and the likes?"
"Had to," he said and leaned back. "The Malfoy name, you know, it's not the best in the magical world right now."
"Maybe not but still..." She stopped to smile. "Well, that's great, when do you get paid?"
"I'm not sure," he replied and Hermione's smile fell into a look of concern.
"You didn't ask?"
Draco shook his head.
"Well, no matter," she went on. "It's probably a two week wait. Maybe three. Draco this could help us keep the flat!"
"Look, it's seasonal work and it's just minimum wage. So don't get so excited."
"That's okay Draco. Hey, it's a start," she kept on with a smile. "So what do you do? You selling mens wear? I could come see you during lunch!"
"No – I wish you wouldn't do that."
"Really?" she asked with a new look of concern. After a few moments had passed, curiosity got the better of her. "Why not?"
"I told you it's not much – okay? I just took it until we get over this hump."
"Well sure Draco – no problem. Hey, that's kinda cool – you finding a Muggle job, and it can't be that bad. Really it can't... Are you cleaning up or something?"
Draco, finally annoyed, looked at her like she'd never shut up.
"No."
Hermione squinted tightly, trying desperately to deduce anything from the reply.
"Well, Draco really – it can't be that bad."
"It's not good."
There was another long pause.
"What!" she demanded.
"Entertainment – it's entertainment you see. In the kids – I mean the children's department," he struggled and Hermione looked totally clueless.
She threw her palms up and shook her head in bewilderment. She obviously wanted to ask more but refrained.
"We entertain the kids – with outfits, clowns – cowboys – superheros – that kind of stuff. It makes them want to buy the clothes, and toys and costumes and such," he said, and waved his hand dismissively.
Hermione looked frozen as if uncertain on how to react. After a number of moments had passed Draco finally broke the silence.
"I told you it wasn't much."
‡‡‡‡‡
Conversation over breakfast the next morning had been scant. Hermione wished Draco good luck on his first day at work and then breezed out. Now in the peace and solitude of her office, she reflected on their talk, the night before. What she didn't tell Draco was their financial situation was a little more dire than she had first described. If Draco didn't receive his first check in less than three weeks then his new job might not matter. What they needed was a loan to get back on track. There were several options here. One might be Gringotts. But it was unlikely Gringotts would help her. After all, the Goblins hated her, Harry, and Ron for making a total mess of the place and losing their Dragon. Two: her mum and dad might be willing to help. Problem here was, her parents were just getting back into the business after moving back from Australia. They'd had to cut back and were just skimping by themselves.
Pausing to entertain thoughts of her husband dressed as a clown, she picked up the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. The front headlines read: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley bring fugitive to justice.
The Ministries newest Aurors braved the hostile environment of Romania to bring the criminal life of Sorin Razvan to a bitter end over the weekend. The Romanian wizard and crime lord had been sought in the connection to trafficking of magical artifacts for some years. After chasing the wizard through the treacherous mountains of Romania, the team finally caught up with him in the Argillian pass where...
Dreaming of the Carpathians, Hermione tossed the paper down into a small pile beside her desk. Ron and Harry had been gone for a whole week and she'd been none the wiser. One of them could have been killed while she was twiddling her thumbs at home and wondering where she could come up with rent money. She remembered a story Ginny had told her of how Ron often let his cheques from work pile up in his bureau drawer in his room. Living at home, he had no real expenses to manage and no real need for the generous salary the Ministry paid him.
Perhaps feeling a little sorry for herself, she pondered on all this for a while and drifted off into a mood of melancholy.
‡‡‡‡‡
The cowboy boots were a size too small, but the rest of the cowboy costume fit fairly well. At least the children didn't complain. Blaine had mentioned something about an action man or superhero costume for next week. It really didn't matter which, because right now all he could think about was getting his feet out of the damned boots.
With his thoughts tied to his aching feet he almost didn't see them. Stuffing extra sweets into one kid's hands he quickly turned to escape. Ducking into a long corridor beside the children's coats, he faded into the shadows and watched.
He was powerless to imagine why, but Astoria and Pansy were browsing though the children's department and standing beside the kid he's just given the sweets to. The kid reacted most oddly to Draco's exiting the scene and was peering into the corridor in which he'd just escaped. Now Pansy had noticed the kid acting weird and Astoria had noticed Pansy.
Backed up as far as he could and with his heart in his throat it seemed time stood still. Pansy was still looking in the direction the kid was staring at. A moment later, one of the kid's friends called his name and he ran off, diffusing the situation as quickly as it arose. Draco stayed hidden in the dark corridor until Astoria and Pansy could be seen to disappear and and the sound of Astoria's heels faded away.
Taking a deep breath, he carefully eased out of the corridor and stopped to look around. There was no sign of Astoria and Pansy, but taking no chances that they might double back he took his break a little early. Astoria was looking pretty good these days. Her airy and elegant self was looking quite fit, he thought as he exited the sales floor without looking back.
Pausing in front of a long dressing mirror, he looked over the ridiculous outfit and wondered how life had gotten into the mess it had. He had left a beautiful woman and the cozy confines of Malfoy Manor to sleep on the couch in a small flat, married to a witch who no longer remembered the few good moments between them.
He was feeling sorry for himself he thought – and no Malfoy should ever sink to such. Hardening his constitution, he turned away from the mirror and gave the subject no more thought.