However You Wish
Chapter 7
The shops on Diagon Alley were beginning to close their shutters as Lucius idly browsed through the shelves of Flourish and Blotts. It was now just him and the shopkeeper, the last customer having just left the store. Scanning the store to check they were alone, he took a few books to the counter.
"I've been asked to pick up another book for my son. But I can't remember the name." Lucius slid two photographs across the counter, one of a blond young man scowling and the other, a fashionable woman with cropped black hair. "Do you remember seeing my son and his fiancé a few weeks ago?"
The owner looked at Lucius and the picture carefully before saying what he did next.
"I can't be certain," he said with caution.
Lucius withdrew a small purse and placed a few galleons on the counter. "Go on," he encouraged.
The shopkeeper hesitated, his brows furrowed as he thought of his answer.
"I remember seeing a man with that hair colour, your hair colour, at this book signing a few weeks ago. It was easy to spot a man when the place had been swarming with witches all day."
Lucius could barely contain his smirk. "And what book signing was this?"
The man pointed at a tower of books in pinks, lavender and opals. Lucius picked up the book from the top between his thumb and index finger, as if it were something of disgust.
"This… thing?"
"Yes, Rose de Bois. Romance novelist. Very popular with the witches. Especially the older ones. I had a peek in them myself, lots of shirtless men and a whole lot of filth, if you catch my drift." The owner winked at Lucius knowingly.
"What do you know about this… person?" Lucius couldn't bear to call her an author. Not when she wrote degenerate material as such.
"Nothing much really. I mostly spoke with her publishers. She was very polite on the day of the signing, quite modest and much preferred to talk about others. Attractive too."
"Did she mention anything else?" Lucius questioned and threw the book on the counter. "Or talk to any other people that day?"
"She arrived with a friend. A red-headed young woman. I think I recognise her from the sports section of the Daily Prophet. Can't remember her name though," replied the shopkeeper.
Lucius nodded in understanding.
"Thank you. I'll take these now," he finalised.
The man wrapped up the books, accepted the money and Lucius left Diagon Alley. He was determined to find his disobedient son one way or another.
Draco was walking back to the Burrow after a sweaty and exertive flying workout when he came across Potter at the front door. They nodded to each other in a polite greeting as they both entered the house.
"Hello Molly," Harry shouted down the corridor. "Malfoy's with me too."
Molly peered at them from the kitchen door.
"You're both just in time for lunch. Wash your hands and set the table," she said.
Draco took the stairs two at time to the bathroom and washed his grimy face, slicked back his blond hair with water and washed his hands before heading back down to the dining room. When he walked in, Potter was laying out the cutlery and blinked a few times as he stared back at him.
"What's the matter with you, Potter?" Draco asked.
"Nothing," replied Harry. "You look a bit more like your younger self."
Draco sat down at the table and poured water into the three glasses on the table. Molly strolled in with a large tray of lunch.
"I've made a beef stew since you mentioned it yesterday Draco," Molly said, placing the steaming dish in the middle of the table. "Harry dear, if I had known you were coming, I would have made a treacle tart. But I made a crumble, since Draco's so fond of apples."
Draco could feel his face heat up as Potter gave him a mischievous grin.
"Crumble is everyone's favourite," he defended before helping himself to some food.
"I'm sure a young man like yourself would rather be gallivanting around the country," said Molly. "Least I can do is feed you some of your favourites."
Draco avoided eye contact with his former nemesis as they began to eat. Molly was the first to say anything at the table.
"How are the renovations coming along?" she asked.
Draco listened quietly as Potter described the dull progress of home renovations.
"So which room do you want your first born to have?"
Draco raised an eyebrow at the Auror who shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
"Actually we aren't going to have children," he murmured.
Draco was intrigued with the drama that was unfolding as Molly looked flustered.
"Sorry I get carried away. It's still a while in the future, at least until you and Ginny are married."
"We're not getting married either," Harry announced.
Draco couldn't focus on eating when Molly looked aghast at the Boy Wonder.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes wide in shock.
"Yes, Potter. Please explain why you don't want to marry or have little sprogs with the only daughter Molly has?" he interjected.
Harry cleared his throat, before saying, "Ginny and I made the decision that marriage and children don't define our love for each other. We are happy as we are."
"But that's not my daughter," the mother denied. "She has always wanted to get married and have children. When she was a little girl, she would stuff cushions up her dress and wear pillowcases on her head."
He could barely contain himself as Potter continued to argue with the protective mother. If Draco was his friend, which he wasn't, he would have warned him to not argue with your future mother-in-law. Especially about children or marriage.
Eventually the conversation became so heated, Harry stood up abruptly.
"Excuse me, I am being called back to work." he said before carrying his unfinished plate to the kitchen.
An awkward silence hung in the dining room. Draco tried to eat his lunch quietly while Molly blew her nose in a large handkerchief.
"Draco, let me give you some advice," she said to him in a quiet voice. "If you ever meet a nice girl who really loves you, you should do everything you can to make her happy. Otherwise she will leave you one day."
His heart panged with sadness, for Molly who wanted to protect her daughter and how disappointed she must be with Potter. Even he could tell, she treated him like her favourite son and to have him tell her that he would never be an official part of her family must have been devastating. It was at this moment, Draco wished his parents took his side as defensively as Molly stands up for her children. He wondered whether his mother would defend his choices to a partner.
The thought of a woman with bright caramel eyes and brown curls came to mind. Draco pushed it aside and nodded at Molly.
"If you don't mind, may I have some dessert?" he asked.
The mother nodded and went to the kitchen to fetch dessert. While she was in the kitchen, Potter came back into the room, a large purple paper bag tucked under his arm.
"A few days ago, Ron and I went to Malfoy Manor to search the place," Harry said. "We were able to 'confiscate' some of your stuff."
He placed the bag down and Draco hoped there were some of his own clothes in there.
"We're gathering evidence against your father to prove that he had intentions to use an Unforgivable curse on you."
"Great. When am I safe enough to leave this dump?" he asked sarcastically.
Potter glared back at him. "You're such a dick, Malfoy."
"Well you're an idiot."
Green eyes threw daggers at him. "You're more of a dick than I am an idiot."
"Seriously Potter," Draco started. "You don't know what a good thing you got here. Just give the women what they want before you lose it all."
"This isn't your business, Malfoy. Keep out of it." Harry warned before he stormed out of the house.
As the front door slammed, Draco wondered what had gotten into him to give sage advice to his former nemesis and why he even cared whether Potter and Weaslette could stay together. The only conclusion he could come to was that Molly was slowly drugging him with an empathy potion in his food.
Diagon Alley was busy as Ron made his way to the joke shop. Even after a few years, Ron felt that George wasn't the same after Fred's death. To be honest, Ron wasn't sure he was the same either. There were days when George walked through the door and Ron was waiting for Fred to walk in behind him. Or when George cracked a joke and he would wait a second for a double punch. But it never came.
At first, Ron couldn't bear the idea of visiting the shop, now he tries to visit often. The moment he opened the door, he was assaulted by the shrilling delight of children and moving hoard of customers. Puffs of rainbow hues burst and evaporated, while fireless fireworks whizzed around.
"Thank Merlin," George said, his gangly arm pulled Ron through the crowd towards the tills. "Hold down the fort here, just dial in the price into the till, press total and put the money in the till drawer. Do not give people the wrong change! Give them a bag for their stuff."
George rushed off to the other side of the shop, leaving Ron standing behind the counter completely baffled. An exhausted witch with her three children threw items on the counter for him.
Fumbling for a bright purple paper bag, Ron began slowly putting the items through the till and into the bag, while the witch argued with her children on the limitations of money and how many toys a child can have.
A small line had formed at the till and Ron soon relaxed into serving the customers. He placed Pygmy Puffs on children's shoulders once he rang them through the tills, eliciting giggles and joy.
George eventually returned to the tills.
"Thanks for helping out," he said whilst putting a voucher on the counter. "You can have a discount on your next purchase."
Ron glared at his brother, who gave him the cheeky wink.
"That's it? You're not even going to have a conversation with me?" he said feeling indignant.
"Aww poor Ronnykins. How was your day?" George asked sarcastically.
"A bit dull," he confessed. "Work is more meticulous than I imagined. But the new ears you've provided have helped with the job."
"Are you talking about your job or Percy's job? Don't Aurors have exciting work, like arresting old Death Eaters?" George asked.
Ron didn't want to tell George about how he felt when he and Harry went to Malfoy Manor and how he cried in the shower that evening. He reasoned that Aurors just got on with the job.
"It's not like that all the time. These days, it's getting quieter. Like sitting in a box room all day listening to stuffy people talk about their boring lives," he confessed.
"Well it's pretty much busy in here all the time," George reflected, his smile dropped and looked seriously at him. "I was actually thinking it's about time to get a new business partner."
Ron was amazed. His first thought was Fred. What would Fred say?
"Why?" he asked.
"It's time to grow the business. Make it as big as we had dreamt of it being," George said wistfully. "He would have wanted me to make that happen."
Ron's stomach twisted in an uncomfortable knot, knowing that George had thought over what his brother Fred would have wanted in a future without him.
"I get that, but you would be giving away part of the business to some stranger," he reasoned. He would hate the idea of the twins brightest achievement being taken over by someone who didn't know Fred.
"Nonsense," George replied. "I was going to keep it in the family."
"How?" Ron asked.
"Well, you can join the joke shop."
Ron looked around him and ran his fingers along the edges of the counter for invisible extendable ears. Surely his brother was pulling his leg again.
"Stop picking on me. You messed about in a joke shop for so long, you forgot how to be serious."
"I'm serious," George defended. "You said it yourself, your job is dull."
"But I'm an Auror."
"So what? You can have fun here every day," George added.
"My job pays well," Ron argued.
"With my business brains, you'll be loaded working here."
Ron opened and closed his mouth, not knowing how else to argue against his brother.
"I can't leave Harry at the Ministry. I'm his partner."
"Harry's not going to hex you for leaving the job. He hangs out with us all the time anyway!"
Ron truly didn't have any other reason to give George. His brother gave him a large pat on the shoulder.
"Have a think about it and get back to me later. But don't take too long." George said as he led Ron towards the door.
Before he left, George looked at Ron seriously saying, "I probably never told you this but you are our little brother and I know he would have wanted you involved."
A stone lodged in Ron's throat, he wished there were two of the same faces staring at him right now.
"Lemme think about it," Ron replied.
George's smile returned as he patted his younger brother's shoulder.
"You have until Sunday lunch to tell me." Ron nodded and stepped out of the shop."Maybe next week, you can show Malfoy why you were the Gryffindor keeper." George added.
With a grim smile, Ron returned to work with a lot to think about. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts on George's offer to notice a former classmate with a slick black bob who overheard the end of the conversation.
It was the middle of the night and Draco was sure Molly and Arthur had gone to sleep. He cast a silencing charm over the stairs as he crept into the kitchen. He opened the window where the old Weasley owl sat on its perch.
Carefully Draco tied a note to the owl's leg and whispered to it. "I need you to get this note to Blaise Zabini. Make sure he gets it and don't bother waiting for a reply. Just fly back home as normal."
The owl hooted and flew off into the darkness. As silently as he could, Draco went back to his bedroom and tucked in for the night, satisfied his plan had been put into action.