Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would take a nap in a four poster bed with silk sheets and satin pillows. Every day. For the rest of my life.
DCod: Thanks. I'm glad you like Draco, I'm trying to make him as real as possible, and that means he definitely has a prat side
Zippy Zany: I'm glad you like the future stuff, it's a little harder to write, but fun to see where the characters have gotten
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"Shells, where the hell is that update from MagicTec?" Draco yelled out the door of his office for the fiftieth time.
"It hasn't come in yet!" Shelia shouted from her desk. "How many times do I have to tell you that? Was your coffee decaf today?"
"Well, I wouldn't know, now would I?" Draco snapped back, his angry voice carrying across the entire third floor. "You're the one who bloody made it!"
"You can shut your friggin' trap because it's not my fault that the update isn't here yet!"
"Get on the damn phone and get it then!"
"I have! I've been on the phone for the past hour and they keep telling me they haven't finalized the list of employees yet! I can't make them go any faster."
"Tell them they're all fired if it takes another nano-second. They promised me that list an hour and a half ago!"
"It takes time to pull together an entire company from scratch!"
"That's why I hired them. They said they could do it!"
"You know what Malfoy? Take a chill pill and shut the hell up!"
Draco dropped the papers he was going over for the AllChemist employee list and stalked over to the door.
"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice going icy cold. Immediately the floor went quiet and heads popped out of offices and above cubicle walls to watch the impending death of a certain American hippy.
Shelia gave him a look, walked over to him, and shoved him back in his office. She shut the door behind them, closed the blinds, and cast a silencing charm.
"I said to shut the hell up and take a chill pill. These things sometimes run over and there is nothing you can do about it. I love you like a little brother Malfoy, just stop being so anal for Merlin's sake. Here," she stalked over to his desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. He caught the squishy stress ball she threw at him. "Take your anger out on that instead of us."
He watched her stalk out of the office and slam the door behind her. He hurled the foam sphere at the wall and slumped into his desk chair tugging at his hair. It was Tuesday, the week after his press conference and everything was happening at once. New Foundations was officially up and running, AllChemists had their employee list finalized and would start up tomorrow and MagicTec was running insanely behind schedule. Bere had been officially transferred into his possession and somehow the press had gotten word that he was designing the museum the Ministry had abandoned. Now rumors were spreading that he was trying to create a monopoly of the entire wizarding business in England. And it appeared that he should have come back a week sooner, because suddenly smaller, privately owned businesses were failing across the country. Knowing that if he had invested in them straight out the rumors of his economic domination would only be strengthened; he had anonymously invested large amounts in several different sole proprietorships under the name Maddox, but even after that things did not look good. He groaned in frustration, spinning himself around violently in the chair.
There was a knock on the door and he stopped his spinning and glared. The door opened without his permission.
"We need to talk," said Ginny.
Draco was seriously tempted to bang his head repeatedly on his desk and call it a day, go home, and drown himself in a bottle of Firewhiskey. Instead he waved her in and tried to affix a pleasant, welcoming expression on his face. He gave it up as a waste of effort, but did tame his expression from irate to mild annoyance.
"What about?" he asked.
Ginny plopped a stack of papers on his desk. "This company is headed for financial ruin," she said.
"What company?" asked Draco.
"This company," said Ginny, gesturing around at the four walls. "I've worked over the projections a hundred times. You can't just start up a bunch of companies and start manufacturing products when there isn't any market for the products. Look, this AllChemist line. You're making a full line of beauty and health care products, when people are scraping by to just go to the medi-witches! MagicTec is completely too expensive for any other business to afford, and you are the only person that will be needing any new buildings to be built. You can't sustain your entire businesses with more businesses."
Draco smirked. "I'm a Malfoy, Ginevra. I know all of this, which is why the challenge is to get people to buy the products."
"And how do you propose that?"
Draco couldn't help the smug look that crossed his face; he really was a financial genius. He leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers behind his head. "Depressions begin due to inflation. Usually it follows a period of economic prosperity where jobs are good, the pay is good, and society is on a high note. People don't really mind paying more and companies looking to increase their profits jack up the prices. Then prices increase again and again, and because people are still buying things, the prices continue rising unchecked. That's when the problems start. People stop buying things after realizing that they don't have that much money to spend, and then companies get this whole back load of unsold merchandise and end up taking a major loss of profits. The companies don't realize that this is a permanent condition and so they fire a few people and continue making more of their product. Since people still can't buy anything, companies cut more employees. Now these people go looking for more jobs, but most companies are in trouble and firing people, and when people are out of a job, there is no one to buy products from the failing companies. Pretty soon, entire businesses have collapsed leaving even more people without a source of income and that is how depression begins.
"The biggest problem with depression is that people become too afraid to spend any unnecessary money, with good reason of course, because so many people lost their jobs and they were forced to save every penny. However, this makes it difficult for the economy to recover because the economy needs money in circulation, so the idea is to force the people to get used to spending money again. Along with paying my employees, they are also receiving special employee pricing on products manufactured by my businesses. The first month they have 75 off anything, the second month is 50, the next 25. They will start out buying just what they need, but that will help the economy pick up again, and when things are being bought, then my companies flourish so I can give them slight pay raises. Nothing big or else the whole inflation thing will happen again, but enough so that they associate spending with good things."
Ginny stared at him. "You do realize how much money you are going to be losing, don't you?"
Draco shrugged; it was a small price to pay for the country his father had helped destroy. He figured he owed it to England and her people; besides, if this worked he would gain it all back again.
"Why are you doing this?" Ginny asked suddenly, suspicion in her voice. "This isn't completely altruistic, is it?"
Draco scowled, his good mood suddenly gone. "No," he said bitingly, practically spitting the words out. "I'm doing it because I have an inferiority complex and I can't help but compare myself to Potter, and because he saved the wizarding world, I have to save the economy so that he doesn't get all of the fame, fortune and glory. And this way when the economy does pick up, I'll be the most powerful man there is. There, is that Slytherin enough for you?"
"I didn't mean," Ginny started, blushing slightly.
"Of course you did," said Draco. "Now get back to work before I fire you."
Ginny stared at him, her expression going from apologetic, to surprise, to outrage, to anger, while his face remained in its cold mask.
"Very well then, Mr. Malfoy," she said, her eyes flashing. She whirled around and strode towards the door. "Oh," she said turning, "Hermione wanted to invite you to dinner tonight at the Burrow for a family get together, but I un-invite you!" She left, slamming the door behind her.
Draco slumped onto his desk and banged his head repeatedly on the polished wood surface. He was a grade-A idiot, not to mention a complete jerk. He sighed and then pulled himself together; he still had work to do.
He didn't see Ginny for the rest of the day, though he did make up with Shelia who came in two hours later with the employee list for MagicTec. He spent the rest of the day checking the list over and adding families to the list of houses to be built. New Foundations had already started building the first houses. They were nothing special, and they were all completely identical and in a little neighborhood that was entirely too pleasant, but he figured families living for so long in one room apartments in the inner city that was covered in filth and smelled of disease would love the change. Maybe he should hire out landscapers to put little gardens in the front. That was an idea. He could have the families write in saying what flowers they liked and he could have the landscapers put it in, that way the houses would be more personalized and he would be making business for other companies. He called Shells in and had her start calling up garden shops.
Ginny's words then came into mind, something about people scraping by just to go to the medi-witches. He wondered if there was an insurance policy he could put together for his employees. He played around with the idea for a while before discarding it. He would set up a system of loans for emergencies, but he would let people choose and pay for their own doctors. He didn't want to favor any one physician, and this way he couldn't be accused of taking over the medical business as well. He spent the rest of the day drawing up plans for loans and then made more plans for a charity ball he would be hosting in a few days. He didn't leave until eight o'clock when he was sure Ginny was gone. He didn't think he could take apologizing to her along with the rest of the stress of that day.
He Flooed home hoping Blaise would be available for a chat over a glass of Firewhiskey, maybe even over an entire bottle. It was suspiciously silent when he stepped out of the fireplace in the hall though. He found a solitary plate of dinner being kept warm for him at the table in the dining room and Rolly was immediately by his side.
"Where's Mr. and Mrs. Zabini, Rolly?" Draco asked, giving his things to the house elf.
"They are going to a party of family, sir. At a place called the Burrow, sir."
Oh, yes. He had forgotten that they were 'family' with the Weasleys. He sighed and sat down at his place at the head of the table.
He was used to being alone in the mansion. When he was younger Lucius had always been away on business or with the Dark Lord or in Azkaban and Narcissa had always been at social events or locked in her rooms because she was 'tired'. He had been lonely at first, but then he realized that being alone was much preferable to having them with him. Narcissa would ignore him and Lucius was constantly grilling him on spells and demanding to know why his pureblood son couldn't beat Granger at studies or Potter at Quidditch.
Draco remembered once when he was fourteen saying that if a mudblood kept beating him in grades, then maybe purebloods weren't better. The punishment had been swift and severe and then Draco was locked in his room for the next month until school started so he could study and prove that he wasn't a worthless piece of shit.
Because Draco had learned not to mind the quiet since when he was eight, he was surprised to find that he felt strangely empty inside sitting at the large table all alone, and the thought of his friends at a party where everyone was family and were no doubt laughing and celebrating together, made his gut give a twist of jealousy, and was that loneliness? He pushed the thought from his mind and turned to his dinner but after a few minutes of rearranging the food on his plate he decided he wasn't hungry.
"Rolly," he commanded.
"Yes, sir?" asked the elf appearing with a sharp crack by his side.
"Get my things, I will be going back to the office."
"Master is not hungry?" asked the elf with wide eyes.
"No, and tell Mr. and Mrs. Zabini not to wait up for me when they get back, alright?"
"Yes, Master." The elf disappeared, then reappeared with Draco's briefcase and coat.
"Thank you, Rolly. You can go now."
The elf disappeared again and Draco Flooed back to his office. He put his entire attention to settling more finances and balancing the budget again. He forced himself to stay awake until he had finished, and then he didn't bother going home, but pillowed his head on his arms and let exhaustion claim him.
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"For Merlin's sake, Draco," came the exasperated voice of Shelia. "You've been here a week and you're already falling back to your old habits. Come on, wake up."
Draco groaned and tried to bury his head under his arms to shut out the light.
"Old habits?" asked a new voice. Draco lazily tried to place the voice as his brain sluggishly woke up.
"Back in the States I'd find him sleeping in his office at least six times a month," said Shelia. "Usually one right after the other. Here, Malfoy, coffee."
A mug clunked down on his desk and the smell drifted tantalizingly over him. Without opening his eyes he reached for it, but Shelia pulled it away.
"Oh, no you don't. Pick your head up and open your eyes."
"I hate you," Draco muttered, voice muffled by his arms.
"What time did you fall asleep?"
"Three," said Draco, opening his eyes and blinking against the light.
"Three what?" asked Shelia, not fooled at all.
"Three fifty," said Draco, now picking his head up and staring around the room blearily, noticing Ginny, and then Shelia, and then the mug in his secretaries grasp. "Coffee," he said reaching out his hand.
"Come over here and get it," said Shelia.
"You're fired."
"You're no fun," said Shelia, handing him the mug.
Draco drained half of the cup, not minding that it scalded his mouth. He rubbed a hand over his face and caught sight of Ginny watching him. She blushed and looked away; Draco turned to Shelia.
"What do we have today?"
"I don't know. Ginny hasn't given me the list yet."
Draco turned to Ginny. "Well?"
"Press conference at two, inspection of Allchemists at three, phone conference with the Law Offices at four, phone conference overseas at five, and a dinner meeting with the President of Winstin and Co at seven. They're the company that relocated to Italy. Oh, and you need to finalize the charity ball plans by this afternoon so I can send out invitations."
Draco nodded, stifled a yawn, and took a gulp of coffee.
"You should probably go home and shower first," said Shelia.
"Probably," Draco agreed. "After I finish my coffee."
"You had better be back here at nine at the latest," said Shelia.
"Who's the boss here?" asked Draco.
Shelia only smiled and walked out of the office, Ginny went to follow her.
"Wait, Ginevra," called Draco awkwardly.
She stopped and turned. "Yes?"
"I'm-I'm sorry for snapping at you the other day. I know you didn't mean anything by it, and I over reacted," said Draco. He really should be used to apologizing by now, but the words were still hard to say.
"I'm sorry, too," said Ginny. "I shouldn't have asked why you were doing this. So what do you say we attribute it to a stressful day and not fret about it?"
"Sounds good," said Draco.
"Good," said Ginny. "I'll let you go home now, your hair is all sticking up like-,"
"Like a porcupine," said Draco, his lips twitching. "Yes, I remember."
Ginny looked surprised that he did, but she smiled and left. Draco finished his coffee and Flooed back to his house. He could hear voices in the dining room and could smell waffles, eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, and fruit. His stomach clenched, reminding him that he hadn't eaten dinner the other day and he decided to eat breakfast first, then shower.
Blaise looked up when he came in. "Merlin, Drake, you look like hell."
"Ooooo," said Lida. "Daddy swore!"
Pansy gave Blaise a reproachful look and Blaise grinned bashfully.
"When did you come home last night?" asked Pansy as Draco slid into a chair and helped himself to eggs and toast. She was holding Amandine and giving her a bottle while Dragon was in a booster seat finger painting his waffle with cream and strawberries.
"Came home around eight for dinner, then realized there was stuff I forgot to do at the office, so I went back and fell asleep there." Draco glanced up from his food to see Blaise and Pansy exchange a look. "What?" he asked, almost forgetting his manners and shoving food in his mouth despite the fact that he was talking. He was really hungry.
"Did you even eat dinner last night?" asked Blaise, catching the almost slip.
"Yes, mother," said Draco, scowling.
"So if I asked Rolly, he would say that you ate dinner?" Blaise continued undaunted.
Draco opened his mouth to retort in the affirmative, but then he realized Blaise would call Rolly in and he hadn't eaten dinner last night, so he contented himself with a glare.
"You need a wife," said Pansy, shaking her head at him.
"I have two," said Draco, looking at his friends accusingly. They didn't even have the grace to blush, but both grinned cheekily at him.
"So I here you got in a row with Ginny," said Pansy.
"We did not get in a row," said Draco. "We had a disagreement."
"A disagreement, was it?" asked Pansy smiling at him in a way that said she didn't believe him for one second.
Draco was about to respond when Blaise interrupted him. "Let him eat, Pans. Poor man's starving."
Draco shot Blaise a grateful look and continued his meal listening to Lida's pleasant chatter and Blaise and Pansy's responses. Dragon did not say a word, but Draco had a feeling that he understood everything that was going on.
"He doesn't talk, does he?" he asked Pansy.
"He hasn't said a word," Pansy admitted, though her voice was tinged with worry as she turned her focus on her only son. "The medi-witches say that nothing is wrong with his intelligence and that he'll speak when he is ready, but that was three months ago, and they thought he would be talking by now."
Dragon looked up at his mother and smiled, then shoved a cream smeared strawberry into his mouth with clumsy toddler fingers.
"I say he's fine," said Blaise. "I didn't talk until I was one and a half."
"Yes, but at least you made noises," said Pansy. "Lida was talking at ten months, saying 'momma' and 'dada' and 'no'."
"I could have a speech therapist sent over if you like," said Draco.
"Already tried," said Pansy, looking defeated. Dragon returned to playing paint with his food, mashing the waffle now and then, but completely silent. He then picked up the plate and sat it on his head upside down so that waffle, cream, and strawberries smushed in his hair. He smiled winningly at the three adults who couldn't help but laugh at his antics.
After breakfast Draco took a quick shower and changed into fresh dress robes then went back to work. Finalizing the plans for the charity ball took no time at all; he knew what he wanted and who he was inviting. And it was a good thing he had it finished before the press conference because that was all they seemed to want to talk about.
"Who exactly are you inviting to the ball, Mr. Malfoy?" asked one.
"My guests will be mostly those wizards who moved out of England to protect their family fortunes, but I will also be inviting those who have stayed and still managed to keep their companies in business."
"Where are the benefits of this event going?"
"The benefits will go straight to the Children's Home, Lovegood's Boarding House for the Homeless, and Neighbor to Neighbor Soup Kitchens."
"What do you have to say in response to those who claim you are trying to create a monopoly of wizarding businesses?"
"That is not my intention. My goal is to provide the average wizarding family with a steady job, with a good home environment, and enough money to treat the kids to ice cream."
His words were plastered all over the Daily Prophet on the five o'clock edition. It seems the press had just figured out that he was there to stay, and there to make a difference and were now taking supreme interest in him. He read the paper after his phone calls. 'Is Malfoy's goal really as innocent as ice cream?' one head line read. The other was 'How the Malfoy Heir will Save England and What that Means for You'.
His name also appeared in magazines from Quidditch World to the Quibbler. Draco couldn't help but laugh at the article in Witch Weekly Linda had sent up for him to read. It featured a picture of Harry Potter on the left in front of a white background and his picture on the right in front of a black background. The magazine read 'Harry or Draco: Which Hero Are You Most Compatible With, the Light, Courageous and Fun-Loving Potter, or the Dark, Mysterious, Genius Malfoy?'
He skimmed the article and decided to leave for the dinner meeting when a round of laughter from the break room caught his attention and he headed over to see what was going on. Shelia, Linda, and Ginny were sitting at the table with mugs of tea and what looked like a magazine in front of them; Ginny was covering her face in her hands while Shelia drank her tea and Linda added a set of numbers. Draco frowned as he lounged in the doorway unnoticed. Was that-?
"Okay," said Linda. "I am a Potter girl, Shelia is a Potter girl, and Ginny, let's just say that I am shocked."
Ginny pulled her hands away from her face as her cheeks turned even redder. "What is it?" she asked bracing herself.
"A score of twenty-eight, which makes you very much a…drum roll please." Shelia drummed on the table with her hands, building in intensity until Linda shouted "Malfoy girl!"
"What?" Ginny yelled, lunging for the magazine and tearing it from Linda's hand. Draco could practically see her adding up the numbers in her head. "Malfoy?" she asked, incredulously.
"Yes?" asked Draco from the door.
The three witches whipped around and blushed when they saw him in the doorway. That is to say, Linda and Shelia blushed, Ginny turned bright scarlet and dropped the magazine.
"How long have you been standing there?" demanded Shelia.
"Just now," said Draco, lying easily. He frowned. "Should I have been here sooner?"
"No!" Linda burst out. "I mean, no, just girl talk," she tried to cover.
Draco narrowed his eyes in fake suspicion. "Then what's that?" he asked, taking a step towards the magazine.
Linda grabbed it and held it to her chest.
"Girl stuff, Malfoy," said Shelia firmly. "Don't you have a meeting to attend?" She got up and pushed him out of the room.
"Alright, alright, I'm going," said Draco. "Oh, and Ginny?"
The witch with the red cheeks looked up at him. "Yes?"
He smirked. "There's nothing wrong with being a Malfoy girl. It means you've got class." He turned his back on her mortified expression and let the grin slide across his face as he left the building. He was an evil bastard, he knew it. But it was so much fun.
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Well, like it? Hate it? Let me know. I promise that I will write a family dinner chapter, but not for a while yet. So til then, review!