My Mafia Man
Notes: Draco is extremely controlling and manipulative, Hermione is very naïve. There is no Voldemort however, there is still death eaters, but they are just a mafia circle.
Chapter 1
Seventeen years old and fresh out of Hogwarts, Hermione got ready for her job interview with Mr Malfoy. She had heard rumours and seen pictures and articles about Draco Malfoy from the Daily Prophet, and was an extremely attractive man as well as being one of wealthiest wizards in the wizarding world. He became the CEO of his family's business at just 19 and now at 30 years old was one of the most successful businessmen alive. Mr Malfoy was known to be cold and calculating, giving away nothing about what his true personality when not around others was like. For this reason, Hermione had been hesitant to apply for the job as his personal assistant, scared to work for a man no one knew much about. However, she needed the money, and this was a high paying job considering how much the company was worth.
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Wearing a navy-blue blazer, a white cotton blouse that showed a hint of cleavage, a matching blue skirt reaching her mid-thigh and black high heel shoes, Hermione wandered into Malfoy Holdings, feeling a little more than scared about the impending interview. Marching up to the front desk she gingerly asked the receptionist where to find Mr Malfoy's office, the receptionist let him know she was there. Following the directions given to her Hermione walked through the black marble walls to the lift at the very end of the corridor. Nervously, she pressed the button to go to the top floor, wishing she'd just stayed at home instead of going to the job interview, which she probably wouldn't have gone to if it weren't for her best friend Ginny's encouragement to go.
The doors to the lift pinged and opened to show a short corridor leading to a door with a name plate 'Draco Malfoy'. I quickly realised that Mr Malfoy was probably a very private person, not even having a secretary. My heart started to beat uncontrollably as I neared the door, I quickly knocked, waiting to be invited in. A simple "come in" was said by a deep, sultry voice through the door, I opened it to be faced by a tall, muscular man with white-blond hair standing near the wall wide window overlooking the high society side of London. He turned around, giving me a better view of his aristocratic features, he had a strong sharp jaw line and a pointed nose, his cold grey eyes finally landing on me, made me feel instantly nervous again.
"Come in", he repeats in a neutral tone, urging me to sit. I quickly sit on one of the expensive black leather chairs in front of his desk, while discretely looking around his office curiously. The room is mainly black with only the hint of grey from the cushions on the sofa to the right of what looks like a bar and liquor cabinet, there is personal touch or sentimental value in the room whatsoever. The sudden shuffle of moving paper brings my attention back to Mr Malfoy, who had already sat down in the time I took to look around his office, pulled out of his draw what looked like my CV. Briefly looking at the paper, Mr Malfoy looked back up at me, taking me in, before a slow smirk befell his face.
"I must say Miss Granger, I am highly impressed, not only did you come out top of your class but you also got straight O's for your N.E.W.T's and O.W.L's", a tinge of admiration touching his voice as he recited the rest of the CV.
"Thank you, sir," I struggled to say evenly, though deep down my pride swelled at the compliment.
"So, my question is, why would someone with such high grades and recommendations as you want to work as a personal assistant when you are clearly overqualified?" He questions suspiciously.
"Well, you see sir, I'm a muggleborn." I declared timidly, worried how he might react, after hearing how much his own father hated muggleborns.
He only looked at me with sad eyes and said "Hm, yes, I suppose that would be a problem, with all these older purebloods running everything in the ministry and St Mungo's. It doesn't leave much opportunity for those who are not born into magic."
I blanched at him for a moment, before regaining focus about what was happening. "I suppose that means you won't be hiring me then," I guessed, starting to get up out the chair, ready to be told to leave.
"On the contrary Miss Granger, I believe you will do exceptionally here, if you would like." With a warmish smile.
I blinked a few times, trying to remember if this was real, was Draco Malfoy, pureblood, really giving me, a muggleborn, the chance to work for him. I quickly said yes, before being dismissed for the rest of the day until tomorrow.
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As soon as I got home I flooed to the borrow, where my best friends Harry, Ron and Ginny lived with the rest of the Weasley's.
"Hello?"
"Hermione? Oh, come in dear." Called Mrs Weasley from the kitchen.
The smell of roast dinner filled my senses as I walked into the kitchen to help with dinner. Soon everyone in the house started to sit at the table chatting and joking, waiting for dinner to be served.
"So, how was the interview, Hermione." Asked Ginny curiously, "is Draco Malfoy really as hot as his pictures."
"Ginny!" I gasped scandalised at the sixteen-year-old girl.
"what, oh come on 'Mione even you must have heard the rumours about him. He's famous for always going out with a new girl every event and never being exclusive. Not to mention a sex god." Ginny sighed dreamily.
"He's not even that good looking Gin." Ron huffed, jealous of Malfoy's way with women. "And anyway, we all know Hermione doesn't care about guys, or looking good to impress them." Not realising what he said was hurtful, Ron went back to stuffing his face with chicken.
Face, red with anger and embarrassment I stood up ready to leave, "Thank you for dinner Mrs Weasley, but I just remembered I have some work to do before tomorrow." Stalking out the room, I could vaguely hear Ginny shout at Ron for being such a jerk before I made it to the floo.
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Meanwhile as Hermione left the Borrow Ginny was hexing Ron into the next century, backed up by her boyfriend harry, who refuse to side with Ron.
"How could you say such a thing Ron. Why can't you keep your mouth shut for one minute?" Raged Ginny as she hexed him with every curse she could think of.
"What did I say?" asked Ron obliviously.
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Lying in bed, I allowed the threatening tears to spill over. Stupid Ron always knows how to make me feel ugly and small. I slowly got up off the bed and stumbled to the mirror. Looking at my red blotchy, tear stained face, I began to criticise my plain brown eyes and tangled, unruly hair. Silently wishing I were as pretty as Ginny and other girls; I began to sob uncontrollably again. Wandering back to bed I eventually fell into a coma like sleep.
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I brought the golden liquid of the scotch to my lips, savouring the spicy taste on my tongue, while running it along my bottom lip as I thought about today. I thought about Miss Granger, the girl applying for the job as my personal assistant. How timid and innocent she looked walking into my office, big brown eyes, full of fear and nervousness. It had made me want to hold her and protect her; reassure her it was ok. But of course, that would not have been proper and wrong, being so much older than her and her being only but a child. Still, something about her drew me to her. The soft brown curls cascading down her back, innocent doe eyes staring at me with fear of rejection, or perhaps her supple body: wide hips and tiny waist, emphasising her pert breasts and arse or maybe her pouty, red, full lips. Everything about her screamed pure and innocence, needing protecting from every evil in this world. Including himself.
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Notes: If you have decided to read this far, I would be grateful for comments and feedback if you could please.
But for now, until next time…