Friday, May 30th, 2003.
Part one: Unpleasant encounters.
Draco read again the proposition. Twenty percent of the company. Nothing that would enable them to take over. Twenty percent of the profits. In exchange for financing the reopening of the shops, the staff, and leaving him with seventy five percent on them. It was a fair deal actually.
A deal he couldn't sign.
He took his own contract out of a drawer, again. He read it, again.
The heir shall not sell shares of the company. Only a Malfoy could own a share. It was written there, black on cream.
His next move was childish, and only proof that Blaise was always right, temper tantrums indeed. The contract remained unscathed. The desk under it showed burnt stains in a deep coal colour. It stained the fingers.
How mad was he now? Shooting incendios in his office. Blaise was right. He was fucking right.
Hermione followed Astoria a few paces behind. How was it that she'd ended up accompanying her to buy a new set of robes? Ah, right. The pretty witch had taken her by the sleeve after work and dragged her all the way to the Leaky Cauldron. She'd also only told her where she was going once they'd been in Diagon Alley.
They approached an isolated black wooden door, that only seemed to be someone's fancy front door. It wasn't. Hermione felt strongly out of place as she entered the shop. She knew, even on the threshold, that even with her reasonably high salary, she probably couldn't afford to dress there.
First, there was no clothing in sight, second the tapestry, third there was too much to look at. A petite woman, with pearls and a lifted chin, welcomed them:
"Ah, miss Greengrass, I'll have your order ready in a moment. Oh. Miss Granger! Welcome to Witchety clothing! What can I do for you?" Of course, even pearled women recognised her. The saleswoman's frozen smile and expectant gaze were definitely commercial though.
"Err …"
"Maybe you could surprise her? She hasn't planned on buying anything but I'm sure you'll manage to change her mind."Astoria's own polite smile persuaded Hermione that she didn't like the witch.
"Of course. Please take a seat." The last nodded and strode away, passed a small door next to the luxurious seating area, and disappeared out of sight, her heels rattling all the way after her.
Hermione sat next to Astoria, on a plush green velvety armchair, as another witch with similar pearls, not a hair out of place and a strange square jaw, came and offered them a glass of sparkling water.
"I forgot you were loaded." Mumbled Hermione in her glass, once they were left alone again. Astoria chuckled and then shrugged:
"They've got the best robes. You can even ask for permanent charms on them and they never get stained, never unpick."
"I'm certain I can't afford that."
"I swear it's not that expensive. I'm not the kind of woman to spend my father's money on the useless. I've got a sister for that." Right, Daphne. Hermione grimaced as Astoria continued: "I just need a set of new robes for a charity my mother's hosting soon. Those," She said, showing the black robes she always wore to work. "I've had for years." Eyeing the robes from close for the first time, Hermione realised that they were made of the finest material. She lifted a hand to touch them on Astoria's arm and the witch smiled as Hermione's mouth fell agape. They were so soft!
"Everything is ready. If you wish to follow me." The first witch had reappeared and led them to another room. A fitting room apparently. Astoria visibly didn't need instructions, as she went to hide behind what seemed to be her usual curtain.
"This way miss Granger. Come out once you're done so I can have them fitted. We don't have your measurements yet." She was smiling, but when Hermione went to go behind the set of curtains she was showing with a hand, she caught the little grimace the witch gave at her hair. Bitch.
She found herself in a rather large fitting room, with another plush armchair, a very large mirror that had the nasty benefit of giving her a full picture of herself, and in a corner, were a few sets of robes waiting for her on hangers.
The red caught her eyes right away. There were three set of robes. The first one was black, light as silk, but warm, probably a charm, and was to be worn with the matching black blouse and skirt. The blouse was … well, almost transparent, but Hermione was sure that nothing inappropriate would be seen, and the skirt was just the right length.
The second, which had caught her eye, was a bright ruby red. Light too, and cut so her cleavage would show, again nothing inappropriate, just some skin. Under it was a magnificent red dress. Ankle length, with a very low cut at the back. Damn, she'd never wear that.
The third and last set of robes was in a deep forest green colour, so dark that she'd first thought it was black. The material felt like silk in her hands, it tried to escape her grip as water would. It was … mesmerising. The dress under it was nothing but appropriate, if ever so beautiful. Hermione couldn't describe it. It was neither long, nor short. It wasn't showing too much, or not enough.
"Hermione?" She jumped, and Astoria joined her inside.
"I could have been naked." She scowled. Astoria snorted:
"So? Are you trying anything? Oh! I've got a similar one at home! I love this collection." She grinned, showing the green set.
"It's beautiful."
"Try it on."
"No thank you."
"Oh come on! Try one. Please." Astoria pleaded. "You don't have to buy it!" Well, she couldn't anyway.
"Err …"
"Come on it's fun!" Astoria looked … too enthusiastic. Hermione started to feel uneasy.
"Err …"
"Please? Just for fun Hermione!" Just when Hermione started thinking that Astoria had a very similar penchant for shopping than Ginny, and that she didn't like it a bit, the witch laughed:
"I'm just messing with you." She smirked. "Now, leave them your measurements just in case, we'll come back sometime if you'd like. The boys are going to wait for us." Relief must have shown on her face for Astoria laughed the more. It didn't last long though.
Pansy Parkinson was having a dark purple fluffy atrocity fitted when they got out. The pug-faced woman spotted them instantly and rudely pushed away the witch working her magic on the dress, to come to them. Astoria rolled her eyes.
"Hi there! Finally decided to do something with your tasteless wardrobe Granger?" Hermione sighed, not answering. As if taking it for a challenge, Parkinson kept going: "Or is it such a lost cause you settled on following Greengrass like a dog in the hopes that she gives you a treat? Maybe a second hand skirt or something …" She sneered, wrinkling her nose at their ministry robes.
"That's a lot of nasty words for such a small mouth." Astoria spat, before adding mischievously: "Goes well with your nose though."
"Oh I'm hurt." Parkinson flattened a hand on her chest for a more dramatic effect. Hermione wanted to hit her already. "Someone could see you with that you know Greengrass. Wouldn't do to …"
Blaise was supposed to join both women in Diagon Alley, they'd go to the restaurant together. Astoria had said to meet them at Witchety and Blaise started in the large street, confident that for once, he was on time.
Of course, not for long.
As he passed the Weasley shop, the still smoking polite git was there, as well as his truculent sister.
Of course, she saw him, and of course, she glared fiercely, her nose screwing as if she'd smelt something rotten. Better put the bitch at her place then.
"What? Never seen a good looking man? Tired of your goggled prat Weaslette?" He smirked. She started angrily but Blaise frowned at her brother. Had he just chuckled?
"Fuck off Zabini!" She barked.
"You've got as much retort as your brother, it's saddening." There the wanker frowned, he even cut his sister to answer himself.
"Maybe if you didn't pick arguments with my family you wouldn't be so sad Zabini." He said, cocking his head to a side as if to inspect his reaction.
"Not my fault they always glare."
"Well maybe if you …" The bitch started.
"Ginny please, that's enough." The twin cut again. Oh she didn't look pleased with him now.
"Don't take his side! That idiot pissed off Harry and Ron!" She was reddening by the second. Just like her stupid brother. Not the twin, but the last third of the broken trio.
"I know. Come inside now, James is waiting for you." Weasley's warning tone seemed to be something the sister didn't argue with. He showed her the door, and she reluctantly went inside, not without giving one last nasty glare to Blaise though. The twin stayed outside and eyed him a moment. Just when Blaise was about to snap something cutting, he said:
"Tell Hermione I'm still waiting for her visit." And he opened the door to his shop, leaving Blaise slightly confused. Wasn't he a Weasley too? Did Granger still saw the guy? He didn't seem as bad as the others though, maybe she did. Blaise shook his head and the thoughts away, too much red tribe thinking couldn't be healthy anyway, and took a glance at his watch.
Great, now he was late. He practically ran to Witchety but Granger and Astoria were nowhere in sight. Patience was not his thing. He went in and asked for Astoria. A small woman led him to the fitting rooms as he prepared himself for a nice nonchalant entrance behind Astoria's curtain.
He should have stayed outside. Pansy.
Might as well save the damsels in distress then. He'd see Astoria naked later anyway.
Hermione jumped as someone passed an arm around her shoulder. Zabini was there, smirking his face off. He winked at her before turning a bored gaze to Pansy Parkinson.
"Hello there Pans' didn't know you could still afford to dress here. Have you finally found a new fiancé to milk?"
"Sod off Blaise."
"Great retort. I see you're as clever as ever. We should go ladies." Astoria stifled a laugh as he turned a false enamoured smile to Hermione. "Let's hurry Hermione love, we'll be late. Astoria, dear, come along." He nodded to his girlfriend, under Parkinson's shocked face.
"You … you …"
"Stuttering is ugly Parkinson." Was Astoria's answer as they strode away to the other room. Zabini didn't let go of her shoulder until they'd left the shop.
"Remind me to buy witch weekly tomorrow. Should be interesting." He said and Astoria chuckled before saying dramatically:
"Head of law enforcement, recently divorced, fooling around with mysterious bachelor."
"Great." Muttered Hermione.
"I'll kiss Malfoy publicly to make it up to you." Astoria winked and Zabini didn't seem to appreciate:
"Hey!"
"That's going to confuse the hell out of everyone if they see you two together next." Hermione commented.
"I can't wait! Blaise Zabini cheating on our favourite war heroine!" Continued Astoria.
"Imagine Weasley's face Granger." Zabini smirked. Hermione felt instantly guilty as she chuckled. And then she swallowed it back. He'd told her to go enjoy her pathetic life with ex-death-eaters himself, hadn't he? Fuck him.
"I'm back to Granger then? But … I thought you liked me …" She pouted.
"Getting cocky Hermione? Oh, I like that … Ouch."
"Enough." Astoria still winked at her when Zabini started before them, rubbing his ribs.
Draco hadn't joined Blaise for lunch that day. He hadn't felt like talking and knew the lad could see his moods right away. Even if he'd avoided the subject with brio since their argument, Draco had decided against taking the risk of having that conversation.
Instead, he'd skipped lunch, and went for a long walk after work. He should have joined Blaise and endured the possible questioning. How come someone could be this luckless? Self-pity. Right, but maybe if he'd kept his head out of his arse he could have avoided that and apparated directly to the Leaky Cauldron. Now he was face to face with Pansy just outside of it.
"Draco." She said, stopping before him, and somehow blocking his way past her.
"Pansy." He tried to put as much venom in his voice as possible, but as usual, she didn't seem affected.
"How are you?" She asked.
"Now that I see you, not that good."
"I see." Something glittered in her eyes and she cocked her head to a side: "I take it you'd refuse any drink I'd offer then?"
"I'd rather hang myself." He tried for a disgusted face that only made her sigh. When had his glares become so ineffective?
"You know someday you'll realise you were wrong."
"About what, pray tell?"
"I was the one for you Draco. It's a shame you won't realise it until it's too late."
"Poor me. Where's your new fiancé anyway?"
"I don't have one, yet."
"Right. Because no one wants you Pans." She laughed, her fake hypocritical high-pitched laugh. He was getting at her.
"But the thing is Draco, no one wants you either. You shouldn't have left me."
"I'm better off without you." And if no one wanted him, so be it, at least he wouldn't be with her.
"Right, alone with your pathetic company. That's how you'll end you know? Old alcoholic man, head of a company. A happy life ahead of you." Petty, she was getting irate.
"At least I'll have the money you're after. And you won't have a sickle." He bragged.
"Don't worry about me Draco. I'll always find a way to money. Parkinsons always do." She smiled, somehow self-confident again.
"Don't put your hopes on Nott though, he's going to work with me soon."
"I don't think so." She smirked blissfully. She was enjoying this much more than permitted, something was wrong.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing that important. But you know, you shouldn't tell every girl you put in your bed that you're under oath Draco. Some people could use it against you." That bitch! How dare she!
"No one plays me. You hear?" Suddenly her smirk didn't show that much self-confidence. Had she spoken too much? Draco continued, trying to prove his theory: "I won't be under oath for long anyway." She snorted but looked uneasy still.
"How are you going to manage that? Even the Weasley girl is already married. There's not a lot of pure-blood woman still single Draco."
"I won't need to marry anyone." She laughed and he decided to shut the bitch up: "I've got a really smart Ministry official on hand ready to find a way to break the oath."
"Liar. No one will help you there." She spat.
"Mm. See, someone will. Ever heard of Granger?"
"Granger? You're joking, right?" Now she was fuming. Good.
"No. I'm not. Contrary to you I grew out of my prejudices. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."
"You're delusional. Granger will never help you, she hates you!" Did she? "She's just a crazy mudblood." She spat and Draco boiled inside.
"Do. Not. Use. That. Word." He growled.
"Why? Because Blaise's shagging her? She's just a whore." What? That was bullshit. That woman was bullshit. She was petty and vile and monstrously prejudiced and he so couldn't stand her.
"How could I ever think you'd be good for me?" He snarled. "You disgust me. And you're lucky I don't hit women because I would have gone the muggle way with you." She snorted, and his next words surprised him as much as it did her. "You know what? Granger's a hundred times the woman you'll ever be." He spat, and roughly shoved her off his way.
"Granger's just crazy mudblood bitch! She's filth! I'll always be better than her!" She shrieked at his back.
Draco lost it. Her face, her disdainful and rotten face, stirred in a dreadful sneer that made her the ugliest woman on earth, inside and out, broke something in him. He took a step back to her, grabbed her by the collar and hissed:
"What did you say?"
"You heard! Now let me go! Let me go or they'll drop the negotiations! You'll get nothing!" He could have laughed. As if he cared about the negotiations. They knew he was under oath, thanks to that bitch, and if they hadn't told anyone yet, they would once he'd dropped the negotiations. There was no way he'd make any deal with those scumbags now that he knew they were associated to her. He didn't say anything, a slow bitter smirk replacing his anger. He didn't let go of her either.
"Let me go you bastard! Go back to that mudblood!" He tightened his hold of her robes.
"Don't use that word."
The warning in his eyes was enough apparently. She knew he wasn't joking around any more. He'd kill her. She stopped fighting his grip, fear in her eyes.
"You think you're so much better than everyone else, don't you? Well, let me tell you something Pans. You're the filth and your blood has nothing to do with that. You're rotten inside out, and I hope you die, alone, bathing in your own worthless bitch blood. You know nothing about Granger and if I ever hear you call her mudblood again, or even speak her name, I'll kill you. Now, go tell your little friends that no one plays me. No one. I don't want to hear from neither of you ever again."
He let go of her, practically throwing her to the building at her back, and strode away.