Still-frame

When Draco Malfoy loses his inheritance to a nasty divorce he's desperate for money. Desperate enough to hire a Weasley as a lawyer, to let Harry Potter buy him martinis, and become a porn star.

Chapter 1: Onions in Custody

"It's where it'll hurt the most isn't it?" said Ginny snidely. Ron looked taken back by his sister's offhand remark.

"But-," he stuttered. "You just got 12 million galleons." His sister was now rich, richer than he would ever be, all the while somehow more jaded. Her dark eyes glared at him.

"That's not what I'm after," she said coolly, "and you know it."

Money. Shouldn't it have been about the money? Isn't that what everything came down to these days? Goddamn galleons?

"Since we have not reached an agreement on joint custody, a hearing at a further date will be announced-" echoed the deep voice of the Court of Justice Minister.

Ron watched his little sister, her head held proud, her eyes lined with dark eyeliner, and a scintillating gaze. She smirked, and Ron wondered at the monster his innocent sister had become.

The ministry hearing room for domestic affairs was unusually crowded with machinist observers watching the trial as if it were out of a muggle movie.

"This court is adjourned," announced the ministry chairman with a tired voice. Ron watched as she left. He swallowed hard, ignoring the many congratulations he was receiving. He had just won his case hadn't he?

He had just won his sister 12 million galleons, hadn't he?

He had just accomplished his childhood dream of beating Draco Malfoy, hadn't he?

Then why did he feel so disgusted?

Ron watched his sister taking the toddlers. One whining loudly, the other crying, lost in the confusion of the courtroom.

It was the father who ran up to the little boy, whispering something in his ear, and giving him a hug. Ginny scowled at this, before grabbing the small boy's hand and shoving him away.

"They're not yours," she snapped.

The father stood up to his full height, watching her. His eyes betrayed nothing and everything at the same time. He didn't say a word. He just watched Ginny take their children away, bustling through the busy courtroom. Ron didn't follow to help Ginny. She was going to his mother's anyway, and would have all the help she needed until those 12 million galleons arrived.

Ron began stuffing papers into a folder, determinedly not looking at the defendant. He hated this sick feeling that was welling up inside of him, this mockery about justice, about knowing that the one time Ron had won, it was all so fake. Fuck and it had to be the one time everything really mattered.

"You got what you wanted, didn't you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't have to look up to see that Draco Malfoy had approached him. His face was pale and perfect, and his features were so hardened that Ron thought he might start crying at any moment.

"You fucking won it all," he snapped. "I hope you're happy."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "I'm just doing my job-"

"Whatever lets you sleep at night-"

Ron resisted the urge to lunge at Draco Malfoy. He had always had the urge to lunge at him. Back at Hogwarts when they were schoolmates and he was Harry's arch rival. It got worse when Ginny eloped with him, and it had reached a breaking point when it was discovered that he had been cheating on her. If he could just strangle Draco Malfoy his mission in life would be accomplished.

"Fuck it, Weasley, what the hell is wrong with her?"

Ron shook his head, continuing to swallow back the urge, as he made his way out of the courtroom, but Draco followed, persistent. So Ron gave him an answer.

"I don't know, she's become this because of you. You destroyed her."

And that's what Malfoy had done, wasn't it? Turned his sweet sister into a jaded misanthrope? Hadn't he?

"You made her into this, so you deserve what you're getting," said Ron, wondering why he didn't quite believe his own words. Draco Malfoy deserved getting punished. He ruined Ginny's life. Hell- he had made his own life a living hell.

"Why is she doing this to me?"

Ron raised an eyebrow, wondering if Draco needed a reminder of the specific circumstances that had directly led to Ginny suing Draco.

"It can't be just that! If she's gonna drag the kids in it too-"

"Maybe they're entirely the point," said Ron sadly. "She wants to hit you where it hurts the most. And I guess I had always thought-"

"That it would just be my wallet?"

Ron didn't appreciate Draco's sarcasm. In fact he didn't appreciate his presence either. They had stepped outside, among the streets of London, and Ron was walking hurriedly, hoping Malfoy would get the point that he didn't want to be followed.

But Malfoys had a history of being deaf when it came to subtle hints.

"Weasley, you can't let her, don't let her do this!"

"And why the hell not? You can't say that you don't deserve it, because you do. Anyways I can't stop her."

"You're her goddamn lawyer."

"Look, Malfoy-"

"Don't take them away from me! They're all I have left!"

"What about Harry?"

"Shit, Weasley, don't you even talk to your friends?"

"Not since-"

"Weasley- please, don't do this."

And that's when Ron realized Draco was actually begging. And that's when Ron realized that Draco was very desperate. And that's when Ron realized there was so much mounting pity and sympathy that it was going to explode inside of him.

"Is Ginny really the victim here?"

Ron wished he knew. He wanted to believe his sister was the victim. That Malfoy had manipulated, wronged her. That Draco deserved to have his inheritance taken away.

That Draco deserved to have his children taken away. That Draco didn't have a heart, and didn't have any human left in him.

But after everything that had happened, Ron wasn't sure if he could believe in anything anymore. "I'm not in a position to judge that."

"Yes, you are! You can help me!"

And Ron wanted to laugh, at what Draco was suggesting. His sides ached for a good laugh. But he couldn't because he knew if Draco had resorted to asking Ron Weasley for help it could only mean one thing…

"How much do you love them?"

Draco lifted his proud chin. It reminded Ron of Hogwarts days, of his challenging smirk, and horribly lame insults. The days that Ron yearned for, when sitting alone and idle thoughts of the future frightened him. He wished more than anything he could just crawl back into the safety of quidditch, NEWTS, and surviving Potions class.

When Draco spoke, his voice was horribly soft as if he were telling a tragic story: "Sawyer hates onions. Ginny doesn't know about that. You know whenever I give her anything with onions in them, she picks them out one by one, very carefully. She won't eat a bite until every onion is out of that tuna fish."

Draco didn't answer the question, and Ron felt like an idiot for even asking. Enough. He loved them more than enough.

Ron shook his head, the busy polluted streets of London fogging up his mind and train of thought.

"Malfoy, I can't- "

"That's not the answer I want to hear."

"Sometimes, you don't get a choice."

"I know, Weasley, I know."

Ron walked away and this time Draco didn't follow. He stood there, watching, with a blank expression.

As Ron walked, he thought about onions and onion layers. And tunafish and how children could be so ridiculously picky. And Ron wondered if he was a fussy child and had picked out all his onions. He somehow doubted it, but he could just imagine a four-year-old Draco Malfoy picking out every single sliver of onion out of a tunafish sandwich like it's the most important task in the world.

Ron was across the street and down the block before he looked back and called: "I'll send an owl."

Draco visibly jumped at the sound of the door slamming behind him.

"Goddamn," he muttered under his breath, straightening his collar hurriedly and looking around to make sure no one had seen his temporary lapse of smoothness.

A girl behind the desk was smirking at him.

Draco feigned what he believed to be a heart-swooning smile. The girl just put her on glasses and went back to her computer as if it was somehow more interesting that a handsome, mysterious blonde.

Brunettes- go figure. Draco approached her, wondering where his confidence had gone. Probably with his WonderWizard.

Aw, fuck it all.

He cleared his throat. She took a bite of Chinese food out of a white carton on her desk. And slurped the lo mein.

"How may I help you?"

The brunette secretary did not even look up from the screen.

'By giving me your number. By letting me apparate into your bedroom tonight. By letting me kiss your hand and fall to my knees because I think I've met a goddess-'

That's what he wanted to say. Something slick. Something Malfoy.

No. This is what got him into this situation in the first place.

"I've got an appointment, actually."

The girl smiled, tilting her chin as she surveyed him. "Your name?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

And that's when she started choking. Apparently whatever witty comeback she had- the words were too hard to swallow-

"Is there something funny about my name? Cause I don't think it's funny- miss-" Draco scowled as the woman continued to cough.

Draco scowled. He had had it. The busdriver had put him in a bad mood with his hideous addiction to 'soul music.' Now an uptight secretary was not going to get the better of HIM-

"Nothing about this is the least bit funny. You stand behind your little desk and you mock whatever chumps walk through the door, but look, I don't care, you can't just do that to Draco Malfoy. Don't you know who I am?"

Draco pointed to himself, in case she had missed his platinum hair, or his chiseled cheekbones- she couldn't see his abs, but well you need to have a little faith, don't you?

The girl was just flailing her arms around like a lunatic.

"I know I'm not in the position to be in any sort of authority, but let me tell you I'm not getting a kick out of your little power trip- and-"

"Jesus Christ!"

A man had walked through the door- and reached his arms around the girl and pushed- hard- against her stomach.

A piece of KungFu Chicken flew across the room and landed squarely on Draco's cheek.

The girl coughed, and the man offered her some water, all the while glaring at Draco who was still recovering from the onslaught of Chinese take out on his features.

He folded his arms. "Ok, choking, delusional outbursts- how am I supposed to know the difference?"

The man scowled. "Who is this fucker anyway?"

"Draco Malfoy, sir."

The man lifted an eyebrow and then straightened his back. Draco was disappointed. The man seemed very unimpressed with the information.

"Thanks, love."

He motioned to Draco. "I believe you have an appointment."

"Yes with the head of your operations."

"Yes and that would in fact be me."

Draco was very unimpressed with the information. The man was definitely not tall enough, and while he did have long eyelashes and wavy brown hair he lacked a certain feminine quality that Draco had expected for an artist. He also needed to put on another 20 lbs at least.

"Well, I'm pleased to meet your acquaintance."

"Shall we-"

The man looked like a vein on his neck was going to burst.

He motioned towards a door.

The office was over decorated, covered with papers, and filled with obscene pictures. It was a lot closer to what Draco had expected.

"So, you're interested in working for my company."

"Yes."

"What makes you think I'll hire you?"

"Because I'm pretty."

The man laughed and Draco pouted. He was pretty. Pretty had gotten him a lot of thing is life. His mother's praise, the admiration of many a ladies, and quite a few shags-

"Pretty? Mr. Malfoy, London is full of pretty men. I could pluck anyone off the street and make him pretty if he wasn't very. Beauty, my dear, is not what sells. Beauty on the surface does, but dearie, that's easy, that's makeup- I don't need another prettyboy. I'm sick of you douches anyway."

"But I'd sell-"

"And how do you figure that?"

"My name-"

"Your name?"

"I know that's why you really want me. You agreed to this appointment. My name got me here. People- Hogwarts students- "

"Our clientle is not limited to post Hogwarts graduates-"

"-and others- the Malfoy name sells, that's how we became so powerful-"

The man smirked and leaned back against his chair. "Powerful? Then what brought you here? Your name has failed you, finally."

"I need this job-"

"I thought you'd be a bit taller- or at least bigger-"

"I've got size where it counts if that's what you're worried about-"

"CREEVEY! WHAT THE HELL IS DRACO MALFOY DOING HERE?"

And Draco jumped at the sound of a familiar voice. "Finnegan? Finnegan works here? You'd hire a Gryffndor, but not ME?" But there was something else very wrong with all this-

Creevey. Oh fuck it all. Colin Creevey. A horribly familiar name. A horribly familiar set of hazel eyes. And fuck it was that stupid Gryffndor with the stupid camera who was always snapping pictures of everyone and everything- especially stupid Harry Potter.

"Seamus, I'm busy at the moment. Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?"

The door was shut again. Loudly and reluctantly.

"You. Who would've thought?"

"Not exactly what you expected?"

"Hardly, Creevey. I mean who knew all that camera shit would get you- here."

Colin laughed. "Just found out a way to make a lot of money out of a hobby-"

"But porn-?"

"It's a living. Someone's gotta do it."

"I don't think anyone in Hogwarts thought you'd take your photography skills and use it in pornography-"

"And I don't think anyone in Hogwarts thought you'd be broke enough to come begging for a job to be in a porn magazine-"

Colin folded his arms in satisfaction.

"Hey, I resent that. I bet at least half the Hogwarts students thought I'd be an excellent porn star."

"Oh, please. You are too skinny and pale."

"I'm a sex GOD, have you no respect for celestial beings!"

"And you are this far down? I mean how many inheritances do really have to loose?"

Draco scowled. "Fuck you."

Colin stood and began to pace around the room. He seemed out of place now, surrounded by obscene pictures.

"So, your ex-wife who was the one doing most of the sleeping around- manages to weasel her way with your fortune. You are a push-over, Malfoy-"

"Let's not bring her into this-"

"Why not? It's the story that sells- that and your name."

"Ha! So you do agree with me!"

"Oh, Malfoy."

Colin shook his head. And Draco wondered how Colin Creevey, the midget boy who couldn't defend himself had become so successful in life. Had built this empire that had put Playwizard out of business-

And himself? He couldn't even afford a martini anymore, and by god that was his favorite drink.

What was the world coming to?

It was dark out. And they were wearing sunglasses.

That's what stood out in Ron's mind.

If they were trying not to bring attention to themselves, they were failing miserably. Ron took a last swig of Firewhiskey. He continued to stare at the men. There were five of them seated around the table. He assumed they were wizards, but they were dressed more like Muggles. And the strangest thing about what they were wearing, were the dark aviator sunglasses.

"Awww! The lead guitarist of the Galleon Brothers died," stated Seamus.

Hermione glanced at him oddly. "Seamus, that paper's like a year old!"

"Does that mean Zonko's sale is over!"

Ron had come to the bar to talk to the twins about Ginny. They had been highly unhelpful. They had been later joined by Hermione and Seamus. And Ron of course had failed to mention anything about Draco. The twins had congratulated him, bought him a few rounds, and then had made their merry way back to their shop.

The twins had never realized that there were always messes to clean up.

And Ron found that he was stuck yet again with the after-math of everything.

Of Ginny's rash decisions.

Of his mother's stubbornness.

Of Malfoy's arrogance.

And of- Harry's- god knows what- stupidity?

Oh, fuck it all. Why could sorrows swim so damn well?

"Oh, bugger! I can't believe I forget to tell you this- Wealsey, you are seriously going to die-" Seamus ranted.

"Yes?" said Ron, uninterested. Malfoy's eyes were haunting him. The eyes of desperation. Something he never thought he could associate with Draco Malfoy. Had he really been actually considering helping the prat?

"Malfoy came to the office today and begged Colin to give him a job!"

The sound of glass shattering startled Ron.

He hadn't realized he had dropped his glass until it was lying in pieces on the floor.

"What?"

"He's broke now. And he's desperate for money apparently. I can't believe Colin's even considering hiring him."

"Draco should learn how to live without any spare change. It'll be good for him." Hermione had been the only person to ever start calling him Draco. And the name still sounded foreign every time it rolled off her tongue.

"Right, cause Draco can deal with anything less that designer robes and a personal chef."

"He'll learn that there's more to life than money. Y'know develop some character."

"Yes, because the best things in the world are free --- and worth every penny of it," stated Seamus sarcastically.

Hermione shook her head. "You are ridiculous." She stood up, straightening out her skirt. She gave Ron a quick hug and peck on the cheek. "Congratulations, on the case. I'm going to get Seamus home before he drinks anymore of the firewhiskey-"

"I am NOT drunk."

"And you're not Irish too. We're leaving. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Ron."

They were at the door, when Hermione turned back with one last thought. "You should talk to Harry."

Harry. And everything slid into a halt. Ron felt his throat grow dry. And something, some indiscernible feeling of disgust, of hatred, of betrayal swelled inside him.

Ron didn't look at Hermione. He didn't look at Seamus. He just couldn't.

Ron shook his head. "Sure, sure, I've just been busy-"

"Ron-"

"We don't have much to say to each other-"

"Please-"

"Forget it-"

"Ron-"

"I said forget it!"

And with one last glare Hermione left with Seamus. And Ron was left in the near empty bar that wreaked of cheap perfume and old cigars.

Ron shifted his gaze suddenly because one of the men that were wearing sunglasses had stood up and was approaching him. He was tall, and his skin was olive colored. He was wearing a polo shirt that was bright pink with the collar flipped up in a ridiculous manner.

He sat down at the stool next to Ron. He didn't look at him. And ordered some coke and rum.

Ron watched him warily. He could see his reflection in the sunglasses.

The minutes slipped by. Ron sat sipping his firewhiksey feverously. Wondering why he was so intimidated by this stranger. The man drank the coke and rum nonchalantly. But the silence persisted, and his wariness turned into boredom.

Ron had just paid his bill and was standing up to leave when the man finally spoke.

"You are Ronald Weasley, aren't you?"

"Yes," he answered hesitantly. He turned towards the table where the other men had been. Them and their sunglasses were gone.

"You are quite the attorney. I must say I was very impressed with your performance in the courtroom earlier."

The man drummed his fingers lightly on the bar. The candles flickered solemnly. And Ron was suddenly aware that they were the only two people left in the bar. He kept his right hand clutch around his wand as he nodded.

"Thank you."

"I know you could be of service to someone else."

"You want to hire me?"

The man chuckled. It was deep. "Actually, I'm here to request that you do not work for someone."

Ron blinked dumbly. "I-"

"I will pay you to not work for them. Much more than the party could afford to even pay you."

"Who? Why? I mean who are you anyway-?"

"I'm a friend of Draco Malfoy's. And I am looking out what is best for him. I know he wants to hire you as his lawyer. And I know you are going to refuse. Because you do not like him. You hated him in Hogwarts."

The man spoke like he was Ron's conscience: clear and rational. Well maybe just rationale on the surface.

The man continued. "You hated him when he ran off with your little sister. He corrupted and destroyed her innocence. Draco Malfoy doesn't deserve the money. Least of all any type of custody over his children."

"I thought you said you are a friend of Malfoy's. Wouldn't you want him to have those things?"

The man smiled, and Ron saw why he wore the sunglasses. He could not tell if the smile had reached his eyes.

"People don't know what's best for them. And Draco needs to let go of your niece and nephew. They are not his anymore. Who knows if they ever were."

The man tilted his chin up as he killed the last of his coke and rum. "Draco Malfoy will proposition you if he hasn't already. And I expect that you will refuse his offer."

The bartender had returned finally. The man paid his bill, stood up and grabbed Ron's hand firmly.

It would have been a typical handshake except it felt like claws were digging into his skin.

His voice dropped to a whisper: "You will refuse his offer, ff not for all the reasons I already described, then for the offer I am going to make to you. An offer you can't refuse."

He stepped away. And made his way to the door leaving Ron not quite sure what to make of the whole encounter.

The man paused as he had reached the door just as Hermione had done. And brought up the same subject as she had.

"And he slept with your best friend. I can't believe I forgot to mention that."

And then the man who wore his sunglasses at night was gone.

"Interesting clientele you get here, huh?" Ron said jokingly to the bartender. The bartender who looked like he hadn't shaved in weeks just stared at him oddly and continued cleaning the counter.

La Fin

This story is something I started a while ago. I've got loads of idea of where it should go, but I'd love to hear from you.