Draco 2 August 2017
I got up before she woke up. That bloody phone of hers keeps going off. She has three separate alarms, I guess so she doesn't oversleep. With her hangover today, that must be murder on her head, it's needed to move her to wake up.
I slipped off her ring before she woke. Better to break it to her slowly. I just slide it on my pinky finger so it doesn't get lost anywhere. I look at mine that is on the finger next to it. They are a matching set, mine without the large emerald though - just smaller ones for the snake's eyes. They are all part of one emerald that was has been in our family for hundreds of years. Only I can take off hers, and only she can take off mine. They are one of the family's most prized and despised heirlooms. Most of the family doesn't want them because of their enchantments. I cannot cheat on her as long as it is on my finger, like I would ever cheat on Hermione. Our family hasn't married for love in eons, so they usually cheat on their spouse, sometimes with multiple partners. I didn't cheat on my ex, but yeah I didn't love her either. So I could not consider giving her these. Ever. The only one I ever thought was worthy of these rings is Hermione. Yeah we were a little reckless last night, but 'to have and to hold her from this day forward' - it was worth it.
She's running around the kitchen in just her robe over my t shirt she wore to bed last night. She isn't even seeing my feet stick out off the sofa's edge. Making coffee - darling that one thing is going to be a life saver for us both - and feeding her dog.
The dorky, yoda like looking furry beast is lying right next to me. She's a good dog all things considered. She likes getting scratched behind her ears. I think this dog has made me into a dog person-ish. I was never, nor probably will be ever considered an animal person of any type, but this mutt - yeah I like her. Even when I came in last night, carrying Hermione, she never barked, just tried to do mid-air somersaults or have her butt fly from her tail wagging so violently. And violent that tail is. Don't be on the wrong side of her when she wags it. It is like being hit with a small plastic beater's bat over and over and over.
"Padfoot! Where are you, you mangy mutt? Breakfast!"
Tears are coming to my eyes, trying to restrain myself from laughing. I bite the insides of my lips together so nothing comes out.
She named the bloody mutt after my cousin!
"Where are you fuzz butt? Fur face?"
When Hermione races back into the bedroom I lean down to whisper to her, "good girl. Momma doesn't need to know I'm here right now. I'll get you a treat later, promise. How's a t-bone sound?"
I hear the shower turn on. I resist the urge to go in there and surprise her. I just lean back on the baby blue with golden painted (maybe?) wood trimmed, velvet tufted couch (whose idea was that? I am calling the interior designer and we're reworking the palate for this hotel starting today), closing my eyes. The couch itself is comfortable, but I don't recall ever approving something this gawd awful. The rest of the living room is simple: fireplace with a flat screen tv over it, two massive bookshelves full of Muggle classics (no wonder she was put in this room), cherry hardwood floors and matching beams that contrast against the white in the ceiling. There are also two baby blue cotton oversized stuffed chairs (the decorator will hear about this!) that flank the fireplace, each with their own gold and glass end table. Three large ceiling fans try and circulate the constant air conditioning. An overly plush - borderline furry - rug sits under a mismatched mid century vintage style coffee table. Next to this atrocious room, is a small kitchenette with a hot plate, small fridge, coffee maker (upgrade that to a coffee station when I call the designer), and sink. A few shelves hold basic cups and plates for use while here.
I feel my phone vibrate under me, it's Blaise Zabini, my complete right hand man at work and in life. Since I am the figurehead of Malfoy Industries International (he came up with the nickname MII or MEEEEEEEE as he calls it) - namesake, President and CEO; Blaise is my number two in all respects: he runs the day to day operations while I am the big picture person. Everything from covering up my mistakes - which are few - to reminding me of dates with my now ex wife, he keeps me on track. I text him back 'Bad time, call you later, need to call the office anyways so we'll talk then, but there is other news too.' Send
In no time he responds, 'so what do I tell the board? Where on Earth is Draco Malfoy again?'
'Brazil. Rio. Tell them I am checking out one of our hotel holdings that apparently needs to be redone from what I'm seeing. It isn't a lie either.' Send
The phone vibrates again. 'Draco! Rio? Why Rio? Fine I'll handle the board today. Enjoy your vacation.'
I can't help it, he has me laughing slightly. Can't disturb the Missus in the next room over, since the shower is now off. My mind wanders into there.
Back to reality, Blaise well he knows me too well from being kids together, school, the war, and right afterwards when I took over the family businesses I picked him. He just knows where all my skeletons are and how to keep them hidden. 'Not so much a vacation per se. I'll tell you more later mate. But I'm going to start with sorry.' Send
With a buzz I get: 'what now? I probably don't want to know, knowing you. I'll put the PR team on standby. Talk soon.'
Still smiling from this little banter, I see her rush in again. She looks slightly frantic, running around. She's even stunning now in this frantic stage. A light khaki brown cropped jacket over a navy blouse and khaki pants and her hair done up (not my preference, but more professional). Damn those shoes. Oh my! I crane my neck around to get a better look at them and how they make the ensemble, damn near giving me away by falling on my face. The leopard print Christian Louboutin d'Orsay heels knock it out of the park. They make her legs look a mile long and drop dead sexy. Don't think for a minute I'm gay or anything. After dealing with Astoria and her shopping habits for years, I've learned how to recognize the real thing from the cheap knock-offs. And these are die hard real.
I watch her unnaturally pour a cup of coffee. That has to be the weirdest way I've seen ever. Then I see why, she doesn't want to spill. No wonder she's doing it at almost full arms length. She adds a couple of ice cubes, really she is a bright one, to cool down the hot coffee. And takes a long drink with her eyes closed.
I want to be that cup right now. So. Bloody. Bad.
She's grabbing her portfolio and taking another drink of coffee, she leaves.
I remain silently in place for a couple more minutes, making sure she doesn't return.
My mind drifts to last night, eyes closed and smiling again. A few more minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt.
When my eyes open again, it's almost 9 am. I still am in shock over the circumstances of last night. But it is about time that I call to the office and face my punishment from Blaise.
"Malfoy Industries Intern."
"Hi Trini." I cut off our chief administration manager. She is our personal goddess in my opinion. I keep debating on changing her title to that. Let it be known that you never, ever piss off Trini. It will be the last thing you ever do. *Speaking from experience.*
"DRACO MALFOY! Where the hell are you? Why the hell is Blaise bitching about Rio? And what did you do now? He is beside himself today."
"Yes Trini, I am in Rio for a few days. Need you to take a few things down: I am staying at O hotel transcendental internacional de Malfoy in the Presidential Suite. Also I need Mrs Hermione Weasley's suite comp'd - don't ask, just do it. I'll tell them downstairs but someone should probably warn them, especially since I'm not checked in here. And I need a decent interior designer here ASAP. I'm thinking the one we used for the hotel in Morocco. Oh and make a call to Apple Headquarters. I need a bloody iPhone8 here tomorrow."
"You really are in freaking Rio? Oh this is going to make my head hurt." Trini lamented. "What else Draco?"
"Is Blaise back yet?"
"Trust me YOU DON'T WANT TO TALK TO BLAISE, DRACO!" She yelled obviously so that Blaise would hear her from his office across our executive suite.
"Not yet, there are a couple more things I want to go over with you first." I laughed, knowing what was coming next.
"TRINI, YOU HAD BETTER TRANSFER THAT RAT'S ARSE TO ME NOW!" I can mentally picture Blaise, bright red with a vein sticking out of his neck ready to rupture, screaming this from the door jam to his office.
Only Trini is allowed to call Blaise and I by our first names. Honestly, if it weren't for Blaise and her, I would not be where I am now.
"Yes Mr Zabini, I will transfer Mr Malfoy to your desk now." She speaks fluent snark, which is another reason why she fits so well in the executive suite. Also she has a rubber band gun loaded at all times for when either of us need it. Which is actually quite a few times a month.
I hear the phone click over and Blaise picks up, "Don't tell me, you met a girl."
"Nope. I knew her already."
"Draco, start talking. How much public relations spinning do we need?"
"I'm married again." I hear his sigh on the other end. "To Granger."
Dead silence greets me. I hear him get up and slam his office door. Not quite a minute later I hear him, "Repeat. That."
"I'm married, to Granger."
"Hermione Granger Weasley? A third of the Golden Trio? The perfect princess of Gryffindor house? The one who is going to be the next Minister of Magic? That Hermione Granger Weasley?" He kept stressing that other last name of hers. Ugh I can't stand it. She'll always be Granger to me. Well, not anymore. Now she's Malfoy, but the two of us will need to talk it over before Blaise starts the wheels of our spin doctors going.
"Yeah. That one. Sorry." I smirked and chuckled.
"For what else, now?" I can tell that Blaise is already drinking something much stronger than coffee, but still getting a headache from this conversation.
"You're not here. Sorry mate."
"You know as soon as this gets out, Potter and the Weasel will kill you. Especially since she's MARRIED to the WEASEL!"
"I need you to get ahold of Potter. Give him my cell number. I need to talk to him as soon as possible Blaise. She may not be married." The tone in my voice was obviously serious. I knew that my best friend would understand.
There was a long pause, where I heard him gulp his drink, "Explain that last sentence."
"The weasel is missing. Over six months. He's presumed dead by the Ministry."
In the resigned tone I am very used to, "What else do you need? What about Narcissa?"
"I'll tell mother. Don't worry about that. Right now the big thing is Potter."
"One more thing, how serious is this?"
"Blaise, we're married, but I took off her wedding band this morning so we can sit down and talk about it."
"What about your wedding band?"
"I can't."
A silence loomed over the conversation. "Damn Draco. Congratulations. How is it going to feel to be the spouse of the next Minister?"
"I just hope she can be, as a Malfoy I mean. Blaise, I don't want to ruin her life, again."
