Draco missed books.
Correction- he missed the feeling books gave him, which was the appropriate reaction unlike actually missing books which he could not afford to do. He remembered being curled up by the flickering fire as a child with a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders and flipping through one of James Harvey's murder mysteries, unable to put the book down even after Mother said it was bedtime and put out the fire. He would sneak back downstairs to retrieve his book, bolt back upstairs and read in bed into the late hours of the night.
He'd been eleven when the raids had begun, when Minister Riddle had passed The Law. Books caused restlessness. Unease. Disturbed the peace. Disturbed the mind. Books caused wars. They were the tank of gas that was left carelessly on the edge of a table next to a dying flame. And like how it was inevitable for someone's elbow to eventually knock over that gas, thereby turning the flame into a billowing fire, it was inevitable for books to leave their dangerous imprint on the mind.
Draco had hidden some of his favourites in the attic, but the Peace Preservers had examined every nook and cranny of their manor. They left without a single book unaccounted for. Draco remembered that day like it was yesterday, flashing and pulsing in the forefront of his mind. He'd cried and cried and cried, shaking like a leaf and fisting his sheets. He hadn't come out of bed for days, until Father had given him a stern talking-to.
"This behavior is very unbecoming of a Malfoy, Draco."
Draco hadn't cared what was becoming of a Malfoy because his books were gone. But his parents had close-knit ties with the government, after all, so he'd needed to behave. His family was on personal standing with Minister Riddle. Riddle had even come to his manor for tea often when Draco was a child, before his hands became full with the riots.
Since Riddle had full control over what websites people were allowed to view, that meant book review websites went down in flames, similar to their cream-paged counterparts. Any website that had anything to do with books, or research, or anything intellectually stimulating, was swiftly eradicated. Trials for authors began a mere six months after The Law was passed. Any authors that wrote before The Law were exempt, but anyone found to be attempting to write a book, whether publicly or in secret, was subject to arrest and subsequent lethal injection.
Draco used to want to be an author.
He glanced at his phone, reading over his text from Pansy Parkinson, his coworker and close friend. Ham and cheese panini with a cappuccino and fresh fruit cup. Once a week, Draco ventured on his lunch break to their favourite cafe and got them lunch. It was a rather quaint, nostalgic place, unlike much of the modern real estate that had taken over Diagon Alley.
He pulled open the wooden door, listening in delight as he heard the familiar chirp of the bell. He'd barely taken three steps toward the ordering counter before he bumped into something hard that impaled his chest, and scalding hot liquid was spilling down his front, scorching him. He hissed as white hot pain exploded across his sternum. He staggered back as he bit his tongue to keep from crying out. But he couldn't help the whimper that escaped.
"Oh, Christ, I'm sorry. Are you alright? I'm so sorry. Here, let me get a- I'm so sorry." A worried voice cut into his eardrums, and Draco finally had the sense to look up from his dripping, ruined cashmere sweater.
A man stood before him, and he was without a shred of doubt the most handsome man Draco had ever laid eyes on.
Draco had known for years he wasn't straight, a fumbled, awkward encounter with his former classmate Astoria Greengrass had told him all as much, but if he had any doubt before this man completely erased all that away.
He was tall, at least as tall as Draco, with a broad set of tanned shoulders and muscled biceps with a mop of curly black hair. What struck Draco, though, was his eyes. Emerald green, behind a pair of square spectacles, they seemed to sparkle where the light hit them and brighten up the entire peripheral of Draco's vision. Stunned, he stood there with his mouth gaping open, unsure of how to respond to this gorgeous stranger who had just ruined his outfit. All the snarky words that had been on the tip of his tongue promptly escaped, and he was left balking frozen like a statue.
"Sir . . .?" the man asked tentatively, taking a cautious step closer to Draco. Draco tensed up, backing away in spite of the things that his husky voice was doing to him. Physical contact always made him nervous, and he wasn't sure if this man was intent on touching him but he didn't want to take any chances.
That was when Draco realized, with the man addressing him so formally. He worked here. Draco's wits finally returned, and he put on his best sneer at the man to hide his shock.
"Sir? That's all you have to say to me, after ruining my sweater? Honestly, you'd think in a place like this, which I come to often, by the way, so I'm curious why I've never seen you, that they'd give you better training?"
The man's green eyes widened, as though he weren't used to being talked to in such a way. Good. Draco needed to keep the upper hand at all costs, even if it meant casting this gorgeous stranger away.
"I'm, erm, new," he stammered, a rosy tint rising to his cheeks. Draco's heart squeezed, then he immediately reprimanded himself. Stop it.
"Oh," he said stupidly.
An awkward moment of silence passed between them, where the stranger almost seemed to be studying Draco, before he said, "Here, I should really get you something for that chest. A cool cloth should do. You're all red and dripping."
No shit, you absolute wanker, Draco didn't say.
The stranger hurried away and Draco felt himself redden under the gaze of several curious customers.
Not soon enough, the stranger returned to put Draco out of his misery with a cool cloth as promised. He handed it to Draco, with a soft "Here" for emphasis. Draco glared daggers at him as he rubbed his chest none too gently and scrubbed as much of the liquid off as he possibly could, which wasn't much.
Sighing, he passed the cloth back to the beautiful stranger.
"Again, I'm so sorry about this," he said, and he truly sounded it. Draco almost took pity on him.
"I can offer you something on the house for the trouble."
Draco raised his eyebrows. He hadn't been expecting that.
"Really, you don't have to do that," he said, for some reason not wanting to put the brunette into any more misery. Besides, if he comped an item for Draco, his boss would find out.
"My boss is going to find out, anyway," said the man, as though he'd read Draco's mind. "Might as well let you leave with a smile instead of a frown."
Draco knew he was trying to lighten the mood, and he appreciated his efforts, but he highly doubted that.
But nonetheless he sighed and plastered on a tight smile, taking a step closer to the stranger. "Alright, fine."
The man's eyes seemed to sparkle. "Brilliant. Neville here will take your order. Maybe you know him, as you said you're a regular?"
Turns out Draco did recognize the man he referred to as Neville, though he had never known him by name. The man smiled warmly at him, then spoke quietly to Neville, who was behind the register. Draco couldn't make out what was said, but soon enough their conversation was over and the handsome man turned to face Draco again.
"I talked to him, you're all set. Anything you want today, it's on us."
"Actually, today I'm ordering for two, so you probably don't want to pay for both-"
"Nonsense. Consider it done." The man smiled again, and Draco felt something he couldn't quite identify bubble in his chest. Why was he being so nice to him? He obviously had an ulterior motive. No one was just this nice to be nice.
"A-Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
"I wouldn't argue with Harry on this one, lad," said Neville, grinning. "Once he's made his mind up there's no changing it."
Draco turned toward the man named Harry, who was now blushing profusely.
"I'm Harry," he said. "It's nice to meet you, and I'm sorry it had to be under such unfortunate circumstances."
"That's alright," Draco found himself saying, and what? Where was his sarcasm, his sneers, his cold demeanor? He needed them to survive. He was breaking Rule Number One. Do not be nice to strangers.
"I'm Draco."
And just like that, he broke Rule Number Two.
Harry smiled. "That's unique. I like it."
Christ, what did he want with him? Draco couldn't afford to be charmed by his antics- he had to stay vigilant.
"T-Thanks," he stammered, feeling his heart rate pick up. Neville glanced between the two of them, before returning to the register and asking Draco what his order was. Shaken from his trance, Draco directed his attention away from the gorgeous Harry to Neville, a much safer person to lay his eyes on.
"Two ham and cheese paninis, a fresh fruit cup, and two cappuccinos, please."
Neville smiled at him as he punched in the order. "Coming right up."
Once Draco stepped aside to allow Neville to help the next person in line, he chanced a glance at Harry again, who still hadn't left.
"Right, erm, I should be getting back to work now," he said, scratching his head awkwardly. Draco found it adorable, but immediately chastised himself for having such thoughts.
"That's probably best," Draco said, although he found that he did not want this beautiful man to leave his side.
Harry nodded. "Well, again, it was nice meeting you, Draco. And I'm sorry about . . . your sweater."
Before Draco could respond, Harry whisked around and walked to the back of the cafe and into the Employees Only area. Draco found himself gaping. He couldn't believe he'd just met this gorgeous stranger who he'd probably never see again.
He works here, and you come here often, maybe you will, a voice inside his head suggested.
No, Draco told the voice. Strangers are dangerous. He remembered the last time he'd gotten entangled with a stranger. It had not ended well, to say the least.
But something told him, a nagging feeling, that Harry didn't pose any sort of danger at all.
"Look at you. You're a hot spanking mess!" exclaimed Pansy once Draco walked back into the Peace Preserver headquarters. "I think you might have some shirt on your coffee."
"I can keep this second sandwich for myself, if you're going to keep this up."
Pansy shook her head fondly. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. So spill. Not literally, of course, as that's already happened to you."
"Shut up!"
"What happened?"
"This . . . man . . . spilled coffee on me. He was new at the cafe, you could tell just by looking at him." Draco was bluffing. He absolutely hadn't been able to tell, because the man had all but oozed sexiness and confidence to the brim. But he wasn't about to tell Pansy that. She'd never let him hear the end of it.
"And was this man attractive?" Pansy asked, twirling a strand of her short, jet black hair.
Draco felt colour rise in his cheeks. Pansy gasped.
"He was, wasn't he? Draco, this is brilliant! You have to go back and see him again."
"Are you mad? Don't you remember anything from the last time I got involved with a stranger?"
Pansy's smile fell. "You don't need to remind me," she said softly. "I know it still affects you."
Draco gripped the drink holder and bag a little bit tighter as they made their way to the lounge.
"That's one way of putting it," he said darkly.
"Hey," said Pansy, as she pulled open the door and held it open for Draco, "I don't want one bad experience to ruin dating for the rest of your life. I don't want to see you holding yourself back because you're afraid."
"I'm not afraid," Draco argued, instantly willing his tone to become stronger than it actually was. "I'm just cautious. As I should be. The last thing I need is to get involved with another stranger."
"So you admit it. He was attractive."
Draco pursed his lips to refrain from smiling.
"Draco!" she squealed. "You like him."
"I don't even know him."
"That can change."
"How? If I keep showing up to the cafe just to see him, he'll think I'm stalking him."
They sat down at a table and Draco pulled out one of the hot, wrapped paninis and handed it to his coworker.
"Nonsense," scoffed Pansy. "If anything, he'll think it's downright adorable. Oh, this is so perfect, Draco. Please tell me you'll see him again. Was he nice? Did he get super embarrassed?"
"He was rather nice, and he was mortified. At least he looked it. Poor bloke."
"See? You have nothing to worry about."
"Looks can be deceiving," said Draco, as he pulled out his own sandwich and unwrapped it. Its faint aroma rose in the air between them, and Draco's mouth watered. He was starving. "You know why I'm careful. After Mark, I just . . . I can't. Anymore."
Pansy frowned. "It doesn't have to be that way. Have you ever . . . . I dunno, considered talking to someone? About it?" She phrased the question delicately, but Draco still flinched.
"No," he said coldly. "I don't need therapy, Pansy."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," she said gently.
"It is absolutely something to be ashamed of," insisted Draco, feeling his insides flare up. "People who need therapy are weak- they can't work out their problems for themselves like adults."
"Therapy doesn't make you weak, Draco. Being open and allowing yourself to be vulnerable makes you strong."
"Like I'd want to burden another human being with my personal problems? Please. They'd laugh at how ridiculous it would all sound." Because the truth was, it was ridiculous. He'd broken up with Mark three years ago and still every time he thought of the other man it felt like a knife in his side. What therapist would sympathize with him for still being so affected by everything three whole years later? It was pathetic.
"I'm pretty sure they're legally not allowed to do that," said Pansy as she bit into her sandwich. Draco removed the cups of coffee from the drink carrier and handed one to the black-haired woman. Pansy accepted it graciously, and once she was finished chewing she took a hearty sip. Draco, in turn, took a sip of his own beverage, and they had cooled down perfectly to where they were still hot but not uncomfortably so.
"Maybe not aloud," Draco mused.
"Draco. These are trained, licensed professionals who literally get paid to deal with people's problems. They're experts. I'm sure they've heard way worse, no offense."
"None taken," Draco said bitterly.
Pansy sighed. "I didn't mean it like that."
"No. I get it. My problems really aren't that big of a deal. I just need to get over them, like everybody else."
"Draco-"
"It's been three years, for fuck's sake. I'm over it. I'm fine."
"I shouldn't have said that knowing how you diminish your own pain, I'm sorry-"
"Pansy, please. Just drop it."
Pansy dropped her gaze, popping open the lid to her fruit cup and toying with a piece of diced pineapple.
"Alright. I'll drop it," she said softly, sounding sadder than Draco would have liked her to.
It was Draco's turn to sigh. "Pansy," he began, taking another sip of his cappuccino. "I know you're only trying to help. You're a great friend. Really. But this is a . . . delicate issue, and I'm not ready to confront everything that happened."
Pansy looked back up at him. "You're going to have to some time, Draco."
Draco worried his bottom lip, appetite suddenly waning. "I know."
A stifling silence hung in the air between them like a dirty towel.
Draco returned his attention to his food, and nothing else was spoken between the pair of them as they ate. Finally, once they were nearing the end of their meal, Pansy cleared her throat. Draco looked up at her.
"I forgot to tell you, Severus is going to have a meeting with us after we all eat. Something about numbers in schools."
Draco felt a chill run up his spine. Whenever their boss called these meetings, he was usually channeling the content directly through Minister Riddle. Minister Riddle had total and complete control over the Peace Preserver Corporation, as expected, which meant that Severus had virtually no say in his position as company executive. Everything he directed toward Draco and the other employees was from Tom Riddle himself.
"Oh."
"Apparently Riddle's going mad with how many schools he's had to flip upside down for books."
In terms of books, there were exceptions to The Law. Certain books for educational purposes were necessary in schools, so long as they were approved and administered by Riddle himself. Draco, having worked very closely under Riddle's wing, had seen some of those books for himself, and the content churned his insides. They were filled with brainwashing, pro-Peace Preserver propaganda, and contained methods of how to find positions in the ever-expanding official government office buildings.
The issue with Riddle was that he wasn't exclusive- on the contrary, he welcomed anyone with open arms whom he thought genuinely wanted to contribute to the Peace Preserver cause. Of course, everyone who attained an official government position had to swear under oath that they were emotionally, intellectually, and morally against any and all books that existed outside of Riddle's direct sphere of influence, and any government employee found in possession of a book was subject to arrest and subsequent lethal injection.
Draco hadn't touched a book in years, since his parents had gotten him an internship under Severus Snape and he'd worked his way up to a full-time position working with a team of other members to thwart book possessions in schools. Mark's family also had connections, and while Mark hadn't worked directly for the government he still supported the cause. He found books to be drab and boring, and a waste of time because "they all sounded the same." Draco couldn't have disagreed more.
"Doesn't surprise me," he said.
"We should probably head back, I've got some paperwork to file before the meeting starts," said Pansy.
Draco and Pansy disposed of their drinks and trash, and made their way back into the offices. Draco, similarly, had paperwork to file as well as a case report so he tended to that while he waited for the meeting to start.
Once Severus called them all to the board room, Draco and Pansy filed in alongside their other coworkers Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
Severus appeared exasperated before he even began speaking, if his pacing around the front of the room and curled lip was anything to go by. Draco wrung his hands together anxiously. He may not have been directly referred to, but he still felt affected by his boss's emotions, as they had a direct impact on his work.
"Do you know why I've called you all here today?" he asked, sounding thoroughly annoyed.
Silence.
"It appears that Minister Riddle isn't satisfied by last quarter's numbers."
The silence thickened.
"If I assume correctly, you all have a job to do. And that job is fairly simple in terms of execution. You are in charge of dissembling schools that have violated the terms and conditions of Riddle's laws."
Somebody coughed.
"I won't keep you long, as I know you are busy. But as a way to incentivize you to do your jobs more effectively, I have devised a commission system with Minister Riddle's explicit approval. Surely you don't need me to explain to you what a commission system is, do you?"
A collective shake of heads, and then,
"Good. This commission system will go into place effective immediately. Do you have any questions?"
Greg raised his hand.
"Yes, Gregory?"
"Erm, will this affect our salaries?"
Draco silently applauded him for asking the question everybody else was
undoubtedly too afraid to ask.
Severus's lip curled up in a sneer. "Why do you ask, Gregory? Are you afraid that you will be incompetent?"
Gregory, flabbergasted, stammered his way through a response. "N-No, sir. Not at all. I was only-"
"Your salaries will be affected by this, yes," said Severus, putting the man out of his misery. "I hope that incentivizes you to see to your jobs and ensure that things are done efficiently and effectively."
Draco felt a swell of panic surge in his chest. Surely Severus couldn't be serious? A commission system that would inhibit their salaries? Rent was getting more expensive every six months.
"Any other questions?" Severus asked. Silence followed.
"Very well, then. That is all I have for you today. You may let yourselves out."
Sounds of shuffling and sliding chairs filled the room as the startled employees filed out one by one. Draco and Pansy exchanged a nervous glance, knowing that the peaceful atmosphere in the office was about to be gutted like a machete.