I Love(d) You (Once)
Chapter One: Arty Artie's Number Problem
It began like this.
It was like cannibalism, until the prey fought back. That was what Hermione Granger said to Draco Malfoy twenty minutes after the incident in the comfort of their office, but right now the two of them could only stare at the scene in horror.
A hideous woman sitting in front of Draco in a ridiculous purple suit, being the same width and height, drew the most unflattering resemblance to a giant grape. She was dying—as were the rest of the human race— but she was accelerating towards death at a phenomenal speed and all she could do was flail her arms in the air as she choked on one tiny grape. Her huge forearms swept across the table and everything, the glass of water, the bowl of grapes and her large bag (and all its contents) spilt onto the carpet floor.
"Director Mar!" Hermione's chair clattered to the floor when she shot out of her chair.
Director Mar flounced on the floor. She crept up onto her all-fours and heaved like a cat trying to cough up a stubborn fur-ball caught in its throat.
"What do we do?" asked Mr. Bughes, his eyes wide with panic.
"Call for an ambulance," suggested Artie, flipping open his phone. The brown-haired man dialed for the emergency services and pressed his phone to his ear. "The medics can Apparate and take her away—"
"Does anyone know how to perform the Heimlich maneuver?" asked Draco, looking around the crowded hotel restaurant. Everyone had stood up and peered at the spectacle.
"HERAGH!" Director Mar coughed and the grape lodged in her throat flew out of her mouth and rolled a couple feet.
"Oh, thank goodness you're all right," Hermione said, placing her hand against her heart.
"Uh, sorry, she's all right now. We won't be needing assistance anymore. Thank you!"
"Is the contract safe...?" Mr. Bughes made his way back to his seat and picked up his pen.
"The contract?" Director Mar bent down and picked up the slim black file.
"We're lucky no water spilt onto it," said Draco, giving her a pen to sign immediately, just in case she decided to collapse from the shock or something.
Director Mar picked her chair up and it creaked when she placed her entire weight on it. "Done," she said as she scrawled her complicated signature across the bottom of one page. She handed it to Mr. Bughes.
He accepted the pen and scrawled his name across it too. He stood up, relief in his face and smiled as he shook the lady's hand. "Pleasure doing business with you."
"Artie, as our intern would you like to do the honours? Say the words that close the deal?" Hermione placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder and he grinned at her.
"On behalf of Prewett and Pucey, we have witnessed and authorized a transaction between the Mar and Bughes Companies."
Nosy people in the restaurant broke out into applause at the sign of a happy ending. After all, the woman hadn't died, the intern was given the credit and the business deal completed without delay. That was what it seemed like, and what Draco and Hermione thought occurred.
They didn't realize until three hours later.
Muggle Technology and Its Impacts on Our Society: A Contemporary Introduction
By N.E Colt
Stormwell Publishers Ltd, 2005
INTRODUCTION:
Following the findings of Dr. Hwang's teams in 2000, we are within the third wave of the Muggle Revolution. While the growth of Muggle things and science have become commonplace in our everyday lives, the full impacts of the imported technology has not yet been realized. Have we lost our identity as a magical community? What kind of gifts did you receive last Christmas? Do you prefer to use a cell phone or Fire Conference when talking with your mates?
(22 December; Arty Artie's Problem with Numbers)
Five years since they met at the International Terminal, flew across the Atlantic Ocean on a flying boat, and spent three years together in the same cohort, Draco and Hermione became close classmates. Though they lost contact in the year after returning from America, due to new jobs and separate social circles, they became colleagues when Pucey and Prewett – the two largest Hired-help and Civil Consultancy firms decided to join hands. Sharing a large office with someone for six months did certain things.
Hermione had once said the long hours they spent together could only make them closer or drive them to poison each other's lunches.
"Granger…" Draco said as he looked inside a black file he was about to hand to his boss, Maurice Pucey. "What's this?"
Hermione took the file out of his hands, inspected the contents and her expression morphed from faint confusion to express horror, all intentions to eat out for lunch forgotten. Merlin! "Where's Artie?" she managed to squeak out.
Da dum… da dum… da dum—dadumda—
A phone vibrated three floors below vibrated and its display lit up; it made a loud buzzing noise as the phone against a wooden surface.
"Hate to break you love birds up, but that's your phone." A woman with curly brown hair and hazel skin picked it off the countertop and threw it at the couple.
Artie who was sitting on the lunchroom couch beside his girlfriend caught the phone. "Thanks, Martha."
"Who's Shark?" she asked. Leave it up to Artie to set the Jaw's theme song especially for the caller. He was the type to pay exhausting detail to trivial things and tended to overlook important matters. "Draco Malfoy? I guess it fits his image."
"Sh!" said the girlfriend, Ellen. Cute and petite, with lush, long black hair, she had eyes that turned into thin lines whenever she smiled. She was an angel… at least that was what Artie told Martha the first time he introduced her, but in Martha's opinion as a professional third-wheel, it remained to be seen.
Martha stuck her tongue at Ellen and she glared back at her. "Hermione? Why's she the shark?" she asked Artie again.
"Something Draco called her yesterday…" Ellen said for him but never managed to finish the answer as Artie shot out of his seat, his face painted in varied shades of gray.
"Uh… I have to go." He rushed for the door, flung it open and rushed out.
Ellen and Martha heard him clamber up the fire escape.
"Well, bye." Martha shook her head and headed back into the staff kitchen to make her coffee. "And this was the first time I got to see him this week. I swear, the two of them overwork him."
"They just finished up the Mar-Bughes deal," Ellen sighed and got out of her chair. "Hope he's not in trouble. You know how he is when he's stressed."
"I swear it's because he's with you," Martha called out over the whistle of the kettle.
"Or maybe it's because of your face!"
"Real classy."
Artie wasn't in trouble, but he felt like he was about to have vultures eat his entrails. The last three weeks he'd spent tailing Hermione had been what Ellen called three 'ex's. Extraordinary, exhausting and excruciating. Draco Malfoy had called her a shark because like one, she had to keep moving or she would die. Everything was sink or swim.
The elevator door slid open—Pucey got rid of the rattling ones after the first wave of Muggle technology hit the wizarding community after the war—and he ran his fingers through his brown hair and straightened his navy suit before he rapped twice on a door with two name plaques hanging on its front.
Hermione Granger
Draco Malfoy
Junior Partners
He opened the door and gulped when he saw his two superiors. Draco sat behind his desk like a man with an offer you couldn't refuse and Hermione stood beside him. Their gazes zeroed onto him as he stepped through the threshold.
Hermione handed him the black file they had taken from the hotel. "Read it."
Artie leafed through the content. The Mar-Bughes deal.
"Read the contract," clarified Draco in a voice which suggested murder would be on his hands in the imminent future.
Artie's bottom lip wobbled. He felt weak in the knees and not because he was oh so besotted by Draco's charming exterior, but because he was afraid of Draco's murderous interior. Artie scrambled to the back of the file and his eyes grew wide when he saw it—
"How many zeroes are in a million?" asked Hermione in a kind teacher's voice. It was often said Draco Malfoy, his bosses' partner, was an arsehole. But compared to Hermione Granger's temper, Draco was nicest arsehole you'd ever meet.
"Six."
"Correct. Now how many zeroes are there in the contract?"
Hermione Granger was like a shark, aggressive, with a tendency to rip your head off if she felt irritated or peckish (or at least that's what Draco meant yesterday).
"Holy shit…" Artie's windpipe constricted and he heard a roar in his ears. "I…" started Artie. He had a horrible, bad-flip-floppy feeling in his stomach now.
Six. What an interesting number. The third positive even number. People sometimes had six fingers and toes. Six came after five. Haha.
"The answer's four," said Draco. "Obviously, you don't know how to count."
"W-What do I do?" He looked like a possum caught scavenging in your neighbour's rubbish bin.
"Can you explain to me why you said there were six zeros yesterday and today there are four," she said, "After the client signed the contract?"
The numbers Four and Six danced around Artie's head, taunting him. He always hated numbers. He didn't become a Liberal Art's major in Salem Institute and seek a job at Prewett's consultant firm because he liked numbers.
Hermione looked down at her scrunched hands and blinked away the tears threatening to spill. "We can fix this."
"No you can't," said Draco. "The intern here,"—he glared at Artie as he said this—"screwed up royally. We need to tell Pucey and Prewett and see what we can do."
"No," she said again, her voice even more strangled this time. "We can find a way. They won't even have to know. I'll schedule an appointment with Director Mar, I'll try convince her to sign a contract."
"Would you in your right mind, sign a contract which makes you pay 4,950,000 galleons more?"
Hermione looked down at her shoes before she rushed past Artie. "Excuse me," she said in an unhinged voice. She covered her hands with her face; she didn't want to cry in front of them.
"And this is why I find the immunity rule ridiculous," spat Draco, looking as though he wanted to set Artie on fire. "Why does the mentor get all the blame when the intern screws up? A P&P internship should have stuck with the usual clause: 'The intern agrees to indemnify any claims against Pucey and Prewett which arise from the wilful misconduct or negligence of his or her part.' But nooo, sole responsibility rests on the mentor."
The younger man failed to make an excuse.
"…shouldn't have trusted you…" grumbled Draco, "I should not have listened to Granger when she told me to treat you like an actual employee in the company."
"I…"
"Congratulations, you've just ruined the career of the Brightest Witch of Our Generation."
Hermione made it to the toilets and managed to lock herself into a cubicle before she burst into tears. Five million galleons! Her fingers tried to tease the toilet paper out of the dispenser but she couldn't pull it out… tiny bits of tissue fell onto the floor and she stomped on them with venomous spite. Hot tears dripped onto her black pencil skirt.
The bathroom door slammed open. A pair of shoes squeaked against the tiled floors and Hermione should've realized heels always clacked on hard surfaces—and there was a knock on her cubicle door which she ignored.
She needed to talk to Director Mar immediately. See if she'd change back to the original contract.
The person rapped on the door again.
"It's taken!" she snapped. There were two more stalls and they had been empty when she came in.
"I know."
"This is the girl's toilet you know." It wasn't like he was in any particular trouble, she thought. Pucey might yell at him but Artie's my intern so I'm the one getting sacked.
"Yes, I can read," he said wryly.
If only Artie had the same skill! She scrunched up the ends of her skirt with her fists as she thought this. "Just give me a minute. I swear, if you leave me alone for a minute I will come out."
"I'll be waiting in our office."
She sat on the toilet seat and finally managed to yank a section of the toilet roll out of the dispenser. She dried her eyes, blew her nose and collected herself before swinging the door open. As much as she loved making plans, she was horrible at it, and from experience her plans were doomed to fail.
But an idea was hatching in her mind. Their bosses' end-of-year leave began tomorrow and were on a break until the 5th of January. That gave her time. She could ask the Director to re-sign the contract and her boss would be none the wiser. She could retrieve the five million galleons before their bosses found out.
Martha snorted as she buzzed Artie and Ellen into the company. Ellen had just told her about Artie's mistake so she would be careful around him and cheer him up—as his best friend of course. "Are you an idiot or something?" she asked him.
"Martha!" Ellen said, offended.
"Martha!" The other girl mimicked her. She turned to Artie and shook him by the shoulders. "Honestly, you believe you could be that careless?"
Artie hung his head in shame. "I screwed up."
Martha climbed onto the receptionist's desk and swung herself around so she could stand on the other side. "Excuse me for I am a mere uneducated receptionist, but exactly how many times did you have to write five million?"
He wrinkled his brow. "Many times?"
"And you did this over a period of?"
"Four days."
"You did know a million had five zeroes, right?"
"There's six."
"Good," Martha said, nodding her head. "So you're telling me you made a mistake of writing four zeroes every single time over four days?"
"That is unlikely," Ellen conceded. "You wrote up the draft contract and once Hermione made the proper corrections you copied it word for word, right? She would have noticed something like that."
He nodded.
"Forgive me for being a cynic here, but I smell foul play." She hopped over to her desk, pressed a series of buttons and held the receiver to her ear. "Yes, is this Hermione? It's Martha here. You're needed down at the reception. Is Draco in the office too? Good. Tell him to come down as well. It's an emergency."
"Wouldn't it make sense if we went up to their office?" asked Ellen.
Martha shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. "Ellen," she said her voice full of cloying honey. "It would not."
"Pray tell why?"
"Because I'm the receptionist. And I'm under contract to stay at my desk unless I'm on break but I refuse to miss out on yelling at Hermione and Draco. That's got to be a once in a lifetime thing. Take a seat," she said, putting on a customer-service smile and pointed to the leather couch beside her desk.
Artie leaned onto the desk. "Thanks, mate. You might've saved me. When Hermione said I screwed up, I just accepted it. She's usually right."
"Usually is not always," grumbled Martha. "When you're not star struck like me, you see things clearly. What I can't believe is that Ellen believed it too. It's not like she's a stranger to the rich and famous people prancing around her."
"Martha…"
"But I guess that's why you're lucky to have a girlfriend and a best mate," she said to him with a cuttingly bland smile. "One accepts you for whoever you turn out to be while the other doesn't take any bullshit."
If anyone bothered to come in on the pre-Christmas Eve Day (ceremoniously known as the official 'Skip Work, it's Almost Christmas' Day), they could have seen a curious sight of Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Artie Sommers, Ellen Kim huddled around the receptionist, Martha Capra's, desk.
"So in short, who benefits from this if it's a fraud?" Hermione asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Draco drummed his fingers on Martha's desk. "Director Mar, obviously. She gets all the supplies for a cheap price."
"Let's not forget P&P would have to shoulder the cost for Bughes. They'll be paying little for all those benefits," said Ellen, flicking through the pages of the contract. "Bughes is also one of the companies against Pucey merging with Prewett. He said in a press conference three months back a lack of competition between two big firms would take up all the jobs. He's also against us getting Ministry-approved. Thinks P&P should stick only to civil cases and leave their fingers out of the criminal ones."
"Hate to break up your little talk, but look at this," he said, pointing to a sentence in the middle of a page, "I thought you changed it back, but I remember changing this sentence in the final draft. I think this is the second-to-last version we sent to Mar and Bughes."
"So the culprit is Director Mar then," said Artie. "Her choking on the grape. They must've been staged it."
"The contract fell on the floor and she picked it up," Hermione said. "She must've prepared a separate contract and switched it then."
"Mr. Bughes' shock looked real enough to me," said Draco, the mastermind of deceit and insincere expressions.
"But we can't be sure. You shouldn't go accusing people of things like that without proper proof," said Martha to Hermione and Draco. Hermione turned to Artie and took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry I assumed you were the one who screwed up, I should have had more faith in you."
"Don't worry about it, even I didn't have enough faith in myself."
Everybody turned to look at Draco shuffling in his shoes. "What?" he said, turning away. "He's not my intern. Why do I have to apologise?" Hermione shot him a glare and punched him on the shoulder. "Fine, fine! Artie, I'm sorry for doubting you. Not that I had any reason for doing so." The three girls shot another glare at him but he shrugged it off, that was the closest thing he was going to give to Artie.
"You should you tell Mr. Prewett and Mr. Pucey about this. I think they would be the best people to handle this sort of thing," said Ellen, looking uncertain.
"Or we could just ask for a re-sign," suggested Martha. She picked up the receiver and listened to the shrill ring. "I'll ask the Mar Company receptionist to schedule you in for a quick appointment today. The receptionist community is close."
Ellen rolled her eyes as Martha crossed the fingers on her free hand together, to show just how tight-knit the community was and she shook her head.
"Hello, Jenny. This is Martha. Merry Christmas to you, too! I was wondering if you could do me a small favour…"
"Come in," Jenny said when Hermione had announced her arrival at the Mar Company. "You may see the Director now."
"Miss Granger," Director Mar said to her. She sat on a couch next to her desk, and sipped on cup of coffee. "Why did you ask to meet me? We've already signed the deal. Everything's confirmed and ready to go." The way she smiled made Hermione realize she knew exactly what she was here for. It is her! She's the one who's doing this.
"I believe we made a little mistake," Hermione began, taking the seat offered to her. She gritted her teeth and fought to stay calm. Honesty was the best path to take. She would admit their mistake and see what to do from there.
"Really?" said Director Mar with a condescending grin on her face. It was the same expression Hermione wore after she devoured a whole jar of cookies on a Friday night. And in the same way she felt sick after finishing all the chocolate goodness, Hermione could only hope Director Mar would feel sick and defeated by the time she walked out of this room.
Come on, she was the heroine of the story; fate had to be working with her. "The contract is different to what we've discussed. We have to re-sign it." She gave a folder for the Director to read over.
"So it is. Lucky for me the latter contract works out in my favour. The contract's not going to change… again."
"Director Mar!" She wanted to strangle the woman, but being bound under the social contract, she restrained herself, choosing to go through the Potions Solubility flow-chart in her head. It calmed her a little. "Did you replace the contract?"
"What do you mean?" she asked with an air of innocence. "That's a serious accusation. Do you have any evidence of this?"
"No," admitted Hermione.
"Didn't think so. If you've got any evidence come and charge me. Otherwise, tell your boss how you made a mistake. He's not the type to believe in conjectures."
A noise thrummed in her head and she turned green at the thought of having to shoulder the responsibility of the mess. Artie might get some of the blame, P&P would never consider him as an employee after this mess but she would… she could lose her job over this. Though she was the company's rising star, a cute 'whoopsie daisy' or 'te-he! I made a mistake' couldn't cover losing 4,950,000 galleons. She was going to get the Hogwarts equivalent of expulsion.
Fired.
Hermione Granger, who had graduated top of her year from Salem, was going to be fired. She would lose her dream job, where her boss allowed her to choose from the broad range of cases, she would never again feel the satisfaction of completing an assignment, knowing that she had helped someone and contributed to the good of society...
"I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do."
"Nothing you would do," she retorted.
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione snatched the folder away from the director and stormed out of the reception. She grabbed a handful of powder and yelled "Pucey & Prewett Firm". As much as she hated herself right now, she would not cry in front of Director Mar. She climbed out of the fireplace and ran to seek refuge in the office she shared with Draco.
Her tears resided when she saw the lone man sitting in their office, finishing up on the accounts and her heart leapt at the sight of him. Here was someone she could rely on. Draco Malfoy was incredible at connoting schemes. With his help she could succeed.
"Malfoy?" she called out to him and she fidgeted, pulling out random books from the self-reference shelf by the door.
"Hm?" He didn't look up from his cup of disgusting sweet coffee brewed with exactly sixty coffee beans. During college, he had an insane obsession of adopting rituals of great men in hopes of becoming one. He didn't know if it pulled him onto such a path but it got him through college. That itself was a miracle.
"Director Mar did it and..."
He saw her expression and his heart plummeted. "You couldn't get her to re-sign the contract. She's not the type to leave evidence hanging round either. I bet she burned the real contract first thing."
"Draco Malfoy, you know how much I love you?" said Hermione.
When she asked him that Draco should have taken it as a signal to grab his tailored coat and run for the door. The bushy-haired woman in front of him was bad news and she was about to drag him into her personal tragedy.
"Tell me something I don't know," said Draco as he rolled his eyes. "How long have we been having the affair for? Three years?"
"Try five," said Hermione smiling.
"Wow, time sure flies."
"Seriously, Malfoy. You don't know what a delight you are." Hermione sniffed and tried to brush the tears away from her eyes before Draco could notice. But he did.
"So what are you going to do about it?" asked Draco, crossing his arms.
"What do you mean 'you'?" she asked, taking a deep breath. "You mean 'us', right?"
"Oh hell, no. Granger. I am not getting involved in this," said Draco. "We're going to tell P&P exactly what happened."
"Without evidence they can't believe us. You know how they work."
"Um-hum."
Hermione pursed her lips, indignant. "We're a team. We are only as strong as our weakest link!" she said. "I need help."
Draco stared out of the window for a bit, he drummed his fingers on the table, an inane bad habit which had driven him mad when he first saw her do it. Then he started hearing phantom taps so he picked up her little quirk whenever he thought, having decided real taps sounded more sane and preferable.
"Please," she said, her voice wobbled and she sounded like she would burst into tears if he said no. "Give me a way out, a plan. Anything."
Tap. Tap. Tap. The seconds to Hermione amounted to infinity as he made his choice. "I have a plan. But it might not work," he said.
Her smile blossomed and his heart zoomed around his ribcage. Despite the resolution he made countless times throughout the last five years, he didn't like seeing Hermione upset. Who wouldn't jump at the chance to prove himself as the Prince Charming and rescue the damsel in distress? Even though the princess was pretty much betrothed with another prince. Not that the Weasel was a prince!
"Anything is better than nothing. What's the plan?"
A large part of it started like this.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Merry Christmas and a happy new year!