January 28th, 2018
Author's Notes: The epilogue will be posted in the next couple of weeks!
Malfoy's Patented Daydream Scheme
Chapter Eight: Adaptations
Another Hogsmeade weekend meant another busy day for Ginny and her employees. After the insanity of their combined opening and first Hogsmeade weekend, she had gone ahead and hired two more employees, giving Ginny a little free time to flit around the shop helping customers personally instead of getting stuck behind a register all day long.
George had showed up to observe, but he, too, got drowned in the crowds, demonstrating products to excited third years, suggesting certain WonderWitch items to a group of giggling sixth years, and joking with the sevenths.
Around the lunch hour, they received a reprieve as students wandered off to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer and a bite. Jules took this opportunity to fetch their lunches from the Hog's Head, and Ginny and George retreated to the office for a moment to talk while the new hires manned the shop front.
Ginny plopped into her desk chair and George collapsed onto a crate. "It's only been a week since your last visit, George. Don't you trust me to take care of things?"
"I promise I wasn't intentionally checking up on you. I've actually got a meeting with Malfoy at one, and I stopped by to see if you wanted to come along. Of course, I came a little early so I could see how the shop was doing, too." He winked at Ginny, and she would have rolled her eyes if her entire body hadn't frozen at Malfoy's name.
"A meeting with Malfoy? About what?"
"Not really sure. Some idea he's been developing."
She hadn't told George that she and Malfoy had had a falling out or about the potion she'd found in Malfoy's office. She'd thrown herself into her work after the argument, and, honestly, she just hadn't been able to admit her humiliation to her brother. Malfoy had used her in an attempt to obtain WWW secrets, and it was mortifying how quickly she had jumped into his bed once he'd admitted to an attraction.
She should have known better than to believe his Witch Weekly interview. No doubt the interviewer had written her article to frame Malfoy in a more sympathetic light. Rita Skeeter's name hadn't been on the byline, but that didn't mean Ginny could trust the publication not to be biased in Malfoy's favor, especially if any money had exchanged hands.
"I'll tell you what he's up to," Ginny said. She shifted through the contents of her desk drawer until she found the crumpled parchment she'd accidentally taken from Malfoy's office. In her anger, she'd forgotten to leave it behind.
She passed the parchment to George, who read over it once and then again, brow creasing the longer he read.
"What is this?"
"I found it in Malfoy's office. He's developing a daydream potion similar to our Patented Daydream Charms. I confronted him about it, but it looks like he's persisting with his thievery."
"Thievery? This is brilliant!"
Ginny paused, wondering if she'd heard correctly or if her brother had. "What?"
George perched on the edge of the crate and ran his free hand through his hair, still scanning Malfoy's notes but now muttering to himself as well.
"Starting with a Sleeping Draught as a base makes so much sense. Maybe Dreamless Sleep specifically? Hmm, we'd have to isolate the ingredient that suppresses dreams and figure out how to effectively add the Mugwart. Why didn't Fred and I think of Mugwart before?"
"Before?" Ginny repeated.
George looked up. "Oh, sorry, Gin. Got lost in thought there. Yeah, so originally the WonderWitch products were just a line of love potions, and the daydream charm was going to be a potion in that line, too. But we couldn't get the recipe right. Our test gnomes either never slept or they hallucinated while they were awake."
Ginny closed her eyes in dismay. "You tested on the garden gnomes," she said, deadpan.
"Well, we tested on ourselves first. When our concoctions weren't effective on us, we figured out we'd actually brewed them too weak, so we tried them out on smaller bodies to see what would happen. After a gnome chased us around the Burrow with a butcher knife, we decided to limit our test subjects to the two of us until we were reasonably certain of success."
Ginny didn't even want to know the full story behind that anecdote, so she ignored it and moved on. "So the daydream potion?"
"After twenty-two failed attempts over the course of two years, we gave up on that idea and developed the charm. I think we could have used a complete NEWT-level knowledge of Potions." He shrugged. "Too bad we dropped out of school and became successful businessmen instead."
The outrage that had overcome Ginny when she'd first seen Malfoy's notes slowly drained out of her (along with all the blood in Ginny's face), replaced by a shame that had nothing to do with Malfoy's intentions toward her and everything to do with her intentions toward him. If these notes didn't faze George, what right did Ginny have to be upset? Still, she clung to a hope that there was something here to be outraged about and asked, "Doesn't it bother you that Malfoy wants to copy your idea?"
Finally, George lowered the parchment and looked at his sister, turning his full concentration on her with the same intensity he might have given an alchemical problem he couldn't figure out.
"This isn't a copy, Ginny. It's an adaptation. Clearly Malfoy was inspired by our ingenious work—who wouldn't be?—but just because we have similar ideas doesn't mean he's copying us. Honestly, what bothers me most is that Fred and I hadn't managed to make it work ourselves. Then I wouldn't have to go into the messy business of trying to buy the formula off of someone else. Do you know how much money I'd have to offer a bazillionaire like Malfoy to convince him to give me the rights to his recipe?"
Ginny recognized that last question as a rhetorical one, so she didn't answer.
"Anyway," George continued, oblivious of Ginny's burgeoning dismay, "do you want to go to this meeting with me?"
She didn't. There were so many other things she would rather do than face Malfoy after accusing him of misdeeds he hadn't committed, but she needed to apologize. Her head fell into her hands as she groaned. She'd claimed he had seduced her, but Malfoy had been right—Ginny was the one who had made the first move, who had climbed into his lap and snogged him senseless. Of course he'd invited her over again after the heated exchange she had initiated!
"What's wrong with you?" George asked, his voice rising in alarm.
She rubbed her face and sat up with a troubled shake of her head. "I'm an idiot, is all. And I may have ruined your chances at a business partnership with Malfoy."
George crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation with an arched ginger eyebrow.
"I might have accused him of seducing me to steal secrets about WWW products."
"What a foolish thing to accuse him of."
"I know, and I'm sorry! I—"
George sniffed, interrupting her. "It would make more sense for Malfoy to seduce me to steal WWW secrets, don't you think?"
Ginny choked, her anxious apology getting stuck in her throat along with surprised laughter.
George grinned and winked. "Never fear, sister dear. All's not lost yet."
Draco had been anticipating the knock that sounded on his office door.
He had not anticipated Ginny Weasley having the gall to accompany her brother to this meeting. He did a mental check trying to remember if he had addressed his letter incorrectly. He hadn't, which meant Ginny was an unwanted and unappreciated interloper. He frowned at her as she slunk into the office, looking just about as uncomfortable as Draco.
"You," he said, his lip curling.
"Me," she said sheepishly.
George offered his hand for a handshake. "George! As you know. And you're acquainted with my sister Ginny, of course. I hear you've had sex."
It was a good thing Draco hadn't poured himself a glass of firewhisky to nurture through this meeting—as he'd first considered doing—but he and Ginny both spluttered sans liquid all the same.
"George!"
He looked at his sister with a perplexed expression. "What? Just thought we needed to get that out of the way before we begin. You two are adults; you shouldn't tip-toe around it."
"It was a mistake, I assure you," Draco said with a sneer, his arms automatically crossing over his chest in a defensive gesture.
Something about Ginny's expression fell. She winced, and at once Draco was appeased and curiously guilty.
"Hmm, yeah, you probably shouldn't admit sleeping with a woman was a mistake to her brother." George drifted to the workbench, eyeing the potions simmering in their cauldrons there. "I don't care what's gone on between you. You better treat her with respect."
Ginny winced again. "It's okay. I deserve it."
George waved generally in her direction, his attention fully on Draco's research, though Draco wasn't sure what kind of conclusions he'd be able to gather about it without the rest of Draco's notes, which he had made sure to lock inside a desk drawer prior to this meeting. It was clear that George was trying to give his sister and Draco a moment together, though Draco didn't doubt he was listening intently.
Ginny turned her broomhandle-colored eyes on Draco, but he refused to be affected by them or her. He'd already been played by her once.
"Come to steal some more of my research?" he asked.
Ginny winced for the third time, and this time Draco didn't feel badly about it. She reached into the pocket of those hideous orange robes (George was wearing the same, and Draco was certain to have a headache for the rest of the day from the onslaught) and withdrew the piece of parchment that had gone missing from the workbench a few days prior.
She handed it to him. "I'm sorry. I was angry and didn't realize I'd taken it until I'd arrived home."
He accepted the page from her, and glanced over it to see if she'd altered his notes in any way, but nothing had been scratched out or added. "You admit it, then."
"Yes."
He looked up in surprise, never expecting a Weasley to take responsibility for their actions.
Her eyes blazed with resolve as she said again, "Yes. It was an accident, but I stole your notes. And I came here today to tell you how wrong I was and how sorry I am."
Draco's brow furrowed at her unnecessarily ardent apology. "It's just a piece of parchment. You've returned it now."
Ginny took a step closer, closing the distance between them, and reached for his hand. "Not just about that. I accused you of seducing me, using me, stealing from me and my brother. I was wrong about that. I was wrong about you. I rushed to an incorrect conclusion, and you can't know how deeply ashamed I am about how I must have made you feel."
Draco shrugged away from her. "You don't have to worry about me. My feelings are intact."
Her lips twitched, and he was glad when she managed to suppress her ever-present amused smile to maintain her contrite expression.
"Of course. I'm sure you haven't thought about the things I said once since the last time I was here."
The sarcasm was so thick in her voice, Draco's own lips twitched, which he found irritating. Not wanting to encourage her, he turned away, stalking up to his potions to check on them even though they needn't be attended to for another hour at the earliest.
George retreated from the workbench, keeping his distance and looking as nonchalant as possible, even though Draco could practically see his ears swivelling in his and Ginny's direction.
Ginny came up beside Draco, her gaze intent on the side of his face. The warmth of her was palpable next to him, her scrutiny a weight, but he tried not to think about how good she'd felt in his arms or the memory of her legs wrapped around his waist. He tried to banish thoughts of her smile and her laugh, failing in the endeavor as badly as Neville in Snape's classroom. He would never forget the look on her face when she examined the remnant of his Dark Mark and told him it didn't matter to her, that it changed nothing. Now he questioned what she'd ever meant by that statement. Maybe he had misunderstood.
Her voice pierced the quiet of the office, but it was low enough to be masked by the bubbling of the potions.
"I reread Witch Weekly's Bachelor of the Year feature everyday for weeks trying to reconcile the boy I'd known at Hogwarts with the man described in that article. I wasn't sure if I'd believed a word you'd been quoted to say, but I was intrigued enough to find out. And then, given the opportunity to get to know you, I jumped to horrible conclusions with the same impulsiveness I'd displayed in my youth. I don't expect you to forgive me, Malfoy. Maybe you'll never want to talk to me again. But I hope you do forgive me, because I do want to get to know you. Every prickly inch of you. I'm sorry."
Draco stared into the cauldron in front of him, where a chamomile Sleeping Draught simmered in wait for ground Mugwart to be added. He pretended he hadn't heard a word, but he was allowing her apology to percolate in his mind before he replied.
Could he forgive her for what she'd said? Could he trust her in the future not to think the worst of him? Did he even have a right to be upset considering their history and the things Draco had done in the past?
She could have kept his notes and delivered them to her brother to manufacture a daydream potion before Draco could, preventing Draco from cashing in on their idea. Instead, she'd returned his notes and both Weasleys had come to Hogwarts to meet with him. They still didn't know why Draco had called this meeting, but they were willing to hear him out. Ginny was willing to hear him out.
Before he could reach any sort of conclusion, Ginny stepped away, taking her warmth with her. She leaned against the wall and nodded to George, who stood up from Draco's desk chair and joined Draco at the workbench.
"Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"
Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts, wiping the slate clean so he could concentrate on potions instead of bright-haired, blazing-eyed Weasleys. He retrieved the rest of his notes from his desk and returned to the potions.
"I assume you've heard by now, but I've been developing a potion that mimics the effects of your Patented Daydream Charm. I invited you here to show you my research and ask for your permission to continue."
George frowned. "You never needed my permission for this. We're talking about two different products. Just because the effects are similar doesn't mean I own the idea."
Draco waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I know that. I wanted to ask all the same."
George rubbed his chin and examined the potions before him. "As it just so happens, I did get a peek at your notes, and I'm on board. I came here to ask you what it would take for you to sell it to me when you're done with development."
"Sell it to you?"
"Of course! Zonko's may have moved its store to a new location, but I don't need them selling a rival product to entice customers to visit them. If I want to be the number one joke shop in the country, I need to have the newest and most interesting products! If you can get this to work, I want in on it."
Draco had always thought the Weasley twins frivolous, unserious goofs. He hadn't been able to imagine them caring about anything or exerting any effort, not even when they'd opened their shop and it had become an overnight success in the height of the war. But he saw it now, how they'd managed to achieve that success. There was a determination and an ambition in George Weasley's eyes that Draco could not dismiss, and even though he had not developed his potion yet, he couldn't imagine his product in better hands.
"I can't sell the results of my research until I've finished my apprenticeship, but I wouldn't want my potion to be sold in any store but the best."
George grinned, slow and wide just like his sister. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership, don't you?"
The Weasleys left twenty minutes later to return to their respective shops, and Draco passed the time until dinner revising his notes with George's suggestions and tending to his potions. He'd have to stop by the greenhouses to pick up some supplies from Neville, but that could wait until tomorrow.
He placed a hand on his grumbling stomach, wondering what was being served in the Great Hall, and then quickly dashed that thought. The house-elves didn't serve firewhisky, but he knew at least one place that did.
The wintry November walk to Hogwarts' gates invigorated Draco so that by the time he Apparated into Hogsmeade and entered the Hog's Head, his blood was already circulating nicely, keeping him toasty underneath all his layers. He removed them one by one—heating charm, gloves, scarf, cloak—and stored them away. And then he wound around the tables to approach the bar, stopping next to a woman with garish orange hair sitting alone.
She looked up at the sound of his voice as he ordered a plate of the day's special, her eyes wide in surprise.
"This seat taken?" Draco asked.
She shook her head, lips pale and pressed together.
Draco sat down and helped himself to the glass of amber liquid sitting in front of Ginny, smacking his lips after a long gulp.
"Liquid Courage?"
She shrugged. "It was recommended to me by a connoisseur of terrible brews."
"What do you need courage for?"
Ginny laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing. In front of her sat a piece of parchment and a quill, which she passed to Draco for his inspection.
"'Things I Very Badly Want to Do But Should Not, a List by Ginny Weasley,'" Draco read aloud.
The list consisted of things like "owl Malfoy another apology," "go to Hogwarts and 'bump' into Malfoy while visiting Neville," "get uproariously drunk," and "purchase daydream charms."
At the bottom of the parchment was the heading "Things I Do Not Want to Do But Really, Really Should," under which she had written a single item: "Leave Draco Malfoy alone."
Her cheeks were flushed in embarrassment when he slid the parchment back to her, and it was Draco's turn to smile in amusement, which of course came out looking too much like a smirk.
"Am I that irresistible?"
"You're that good in bed."
Draco's grin widened at that, bolstered by Ginny stealing her drink back and chugging the rest of it down.
"Careful," he said, "you're going to make me think you'd be amenable to an invitation."
"Careful," Ginny repeated, gaze heated as she met Draco's, "you're going to make me think you'd extend one."
"I could be convinced. Might take a few Liquid Courages first—on you, of course."
Her grin brought light to her face, warming her eyes and making Draco once more think of soaring through the air as he looked at her. His heart pounded against his ribs, urging him to invite her over now, now, now, but, as much as he liked Ginny Weasley, he needed to be cautious with the temperamental muscle that pumped life through his veins, especially now that he and her brother were planning to work together
Despite his jest, Draco ordered two glasses of Liquid Courage, one for each of them.
As Ginny took her glass in hand, sipping at it with a grimace, she asked, "Does this mean you've accepted my apology?"
"If you can forgive me for the mistakes of my youth, I think I can forgive you for a justifiable instance of mistrust."
But she must have seen the hurt that still lingered behind his eyes, the remnant he could not mask with Occlumency, because she touched his knee—the very same knee she'd touched in his daydream the first time he'd used a Patented Daydream Charm.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Draco was tired of apologies. He wanted to move past this moment and on to the greater things that were in store for him. He wanted her to be there beside him to experience them.
So, fortified by his aptly-named and foul-tasting drink, he silenced her with a kiss that startled a giggle out of her.
And in that laugh he heard all of his dreams coming true.