Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling while the plot belongs to me. This is rated PG-13 for some foul language besides the fact that slash should not be for children, which brings me to the point. This is a Harry/Draco fic, do not read if you're against the idea. I do not profit in the making of this story, everything is as fictional as the non-existent tree in my backyard, and if you plan on suing me all I can say is that I haven't got any money. Flame me if you want to, I'd like that thank you. Bless you for the thought too by the way!

[Misfits & Mishaps in a Mini-mart]

by: Sleepless Soul

"My car… My car… My car…" Draco had his face buried in his hands as he dragged his feet along the pavement, earning strange looks from some passersby.

"My car!" The last statement was a tearless sob that choked terribly in his throat. Truth is he would never want to be seen like this, not with a sulky, desperate expression that was probably snugly fitting in his face right then.

But the irony of his brand new car's recent accident sent reality dawning and biting at him. It was new for Pete's sake! New cars don't just have accidents occurring early! New cars are supposed to be there for a long span of time, well, atleast until you get tired of bragging them to your friends, anyway!

Blaise Zabini gritted his teeth in annoyance as the other boy continued his incoherent mumbling and exaggerated sobbing.

Atlast when he could take no more of this 'My Car!' rubbish that a vein had actually threatened to pop then and there, he halted in his tracks and pulled for stop at the other boy's wrists, which made him shoot back a nasty look.

"What?!" Draco asked annoyed, putting down his arms on his sides to glare at the other boy.

"Can't you see I'm busy?!"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Busy attracting attention from other people and busy complaining out loud!? I can't see why such crap seems so important to you! You know if your fucking car is down there in the dump site, you shouldn't be acting so immaturely and feel bad right now, it's all your fault anyway, if you hadn't driven that car when you were dead drunk, you would be enjoying a luxurious drive around town! Bloody hell, you should already be finding ways to retrieve your damn car, if you want it that bad!"

Draco raised his brow in a rather arrogant arch. He crossed his arms across his chest and glared at the man who stared at him as we walked by before fixing his bitter gaze at Blaise.

"Don't you think I'm not aware of that?!" he spat. "Though it may seem a surprise to you, I have been finding ways! I am not stupid, Zabini, you think Draco Malfoy would waste his precious time in nothing?! I asked father if he would pay for the car's repair but he refused to just like my mother and grandfather did! Now tell me isn't that reason enough to sulk?"

Blaise poked him in the chest, which only, much to his discomfort made the other boy step closer in a defiant way. "That's not the answer, Draco Malfoy." He retorted.

They were used to addressing each other, whole names and all which may seem rather formal, but in truth they only did that when they fought and bickered which was almost every time. Blaise shook his head as he continued walking.

Draco jogged after him in that summer afternoon. The temperature was warm and the sun had hit the pavement casting a play of shadows after the boys as they walked. Draco stared at his own shadow, his lips down in a pout, brows furrowed thoughtfully. He remained silent for a minute and then turned to the other slytherin.

"What do you suggest I do then, oh wise one?" Blaise ignored the last comment as his lips curled into smile one that quickly changed into a grin. "Get a job."

Draco rolled his eyes and laughed mostly to himself. "You're kidding right?" Blaise was staring at him strangely, that mischievous look still plastered on his face. Draco's laughs faltered, his heartedly look dissolving into seriousness that would've disturbed anyone that could see him now.

"A job?!" Draco shrieked, pulling Blaise's arm. "I cannot get a job! You know how my delicate hands are not allowed to do such heavy labour, how my complexion cannot stand under heat for too long because of irritation! And now you want me to get a job!? You must be out of your mind!"

Blaise shrugged casually, which made Draco's grip on him slide easily away. He licked his dry lips and felt himself getting hot all over which might've probably been caused by the fact that they were standing under the sun. Blaise pulled him under the shade of a restaurant.

"Relax," he said, leaning against the hard brick wall and feeling the hot summer breeze tickle his face. "It was just a suggestion. And besides, if you don't want your car back that badly then forget it. Do your potions homework or something."

Draco sighed and actually thought about the whole idea… It didn't sound so bad, unless the work he had to do required carrying heavy boxes or a construction site. Maybe an executive job would be fine. Besides, he needed to show off something before school starts and that something must be a car , the presently most sought out item in a 16 year old's life. Might as well give Blaise a heart attack now. He thought to himself as he readied what he had to say.

"Okay, I'll do it." Blaise's eyes bulged from their sockets. He rapidly blinked several times and raised his arms in front of him.

"Whoah, whoah, wait…" He shut his eyes once more and opened them again, only to find Draco grinning from ear to ear. "Sorry, did I hear that correctly?" He tried dismissing the thought that his friend actually agreed to his suggestion, for as far as he knew, Draco Malfoy was never like that. He always did what he thought was right and didn't give a shit of what others had to say, didn't give half an ear to listen to them either. "You agreed to do it with me tonight?" Draco's eyes narrowed into slits as he slapped the mislead boy on the arm. "You had to be such a pervert, didn't you?"

He sighed and shook his head in mock disbelief. "I meant that I, Draco Malfoy, would go and look for a part time job to pay for my broken car's expenses. And would never, in my dreams or in reality, agree to do it with you."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I was just kidding," he said. "You should probably be looking through the yellow pages right now. Something like: Wanted a boy toy with an attitude that stinks. Try starting there and calling up people, I'll help you if you want me to." Draco snorted softly. "Can you find something more subtle and classy?" He raked a hand through his soft blonde hair and pouted fetchingly.

"You're only 16, Drac, you're not allowed to work in an office," The other slytherin reasoned desperately. "Unless you count being a janitor then maybe that can happen." Draco frowned as he dropped into an exasperated squatting position, his arms dangling from resting on his knees, back on the wall.

"This is sick," he mumbled under his breath. "Me, trying to get a job! I hope no one overhears our conversation though. My life sucks, big time!"

Blaise affectionately tucked a lock of gold behind the other slytherin's ear. "Tough luck, chum!" he laughed. Draco looked up with a look that could kill, raised his middle finger instead of throwing curses at the other boy and walked away, leaving a very disgruntled Blaise Zabini shouting behind him now fully understanding the phrase: actions speak louder than words.

It was hot. So hot in fact that Draco was sweating when he sought shade under the roof of a mini-mart.

Home was a long walk home and he wasn't even half-way there. He frowned, realizing how badly he needed his car. Transportation was scarce in his side of town and he didn't like the idea of sharing anything, publicly. You can say that he was pretty much a private person.

He didn't take nor did he like the subway, taking the bus or a getting a cab—which was close to almost having his own car, except that there's this annoying man glancing behind you and sharing stories you didn't want to hear for the sake of being scarred forever.

Draco fanned himself. It was getting hotter. He stared into the glass window of the mini-mart, hands cupping around his eyes to shield the light outside.

The temperature seemed moderate enough and he couldn't help but see a sign inside the said: Help Wanted. Inquire Now. Maybe he could get the job, he thought nonchalantly, walking towards the doors, bracing himself before actually stepping inside the store.

The store was cooler than outside and Draco felt relief washing over him like a thirst quencher, dripping out the heat and replacing it with calmness.

He walked towards the counter, figuring he might look like a dope, standing there in the doorway, savouring the cool temperature as if it was the first time he did so.

The clerk had his back on him—he was fixing candy boxes on a shelf—and Draco could not fight the urge to marvel over that fine ass that he had actually reached out to pinch it.

When the owner turned around however, shock, dismay and regret saturated his usually, calm composure, soaking him with an inevitable wave of emotion.

"Potter?"

"What the hell did you just do, Malfoy?"

Oh, boy…

TBC

Note: Hmm… Maybe I'm craving attention? I don't know. But as far as I can see I'm bored and one of my so-called friends was traumatized by the fact that my first fic was a non-slash, Hermione/Draco to top that. This may be the shortest first chapter I have ever written compared to the other fic but to be honest, I like this one much better. Well, I'm off, to torture my dog, play my stupid, cheap guitar and mostly do the things I do. If you want more to come, review then. That's all I ask, then if I'm pleased on how many reviews I'd get then… I'll see if continuing this would be worth it or not. Like other authors say: Please Review! I'd kiss you for the thought, be flattered enough!