Title: Dance with the Devil
Author Name: Shy Unicorn
Rating:M
Genre: Romance/Friendship
Main Character(s): Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy
Ship(s): Astoria/Draco, Lucius/Narcissa, Narcissa/OC, Lucius/OC
Summary: Four years after Voldemort is vanquished Astoria Greengrass starts working for 'Witch Weekly' magazine as a feature writer. Her very first job is to interview Draco Malfoy who has just made his first million galleons without the aid of his rich parents. What happens when they meet?
Author's Note (A/N): Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, favorited and followed. You guys are the best. I really love your feedback. I hope you all enjoy this new installment!
Dance with the Devil
Chapter Five: Draco's Deal
Despite Pansy's warning words I go to meet Draco Malfoy in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. I can't shake off the feeling that she was warning me off him because of some ulterior motive of hers rather than for my benefit. Admittedly she seemed wary of the Malfoys but I just can't bring myself to trust her.
I Apparate to Hogsmeade where the weather is cooler and the skies are overcast with enormous black clouds that only seem possible in Scotland. The small market town is quieter than I've ever seen it because I rarely come here on weekdays. The air is chilly and the scent of pines and mountains makes me think lovingly of Hogwarts.
I don't have much of a lunch break so I head straight to Madam Puddifoot's though I'd like to wander around Honeyduke's and Selwyn's Salves – which sells fun toiletries, bath products and perfumes.
Just like last time I met Draco Malfoy for lunch he's already there waiting for me even though I'm on time. He's set up camp at a small table in the back corner. An unexpected surge of happiness engulfs me when I see him. He stands up so quickly when he sees me it's as if someone has set fire to his chair.
I raise a hand in welcome and weave my way through the network of tables. When I get to him there's an awkward moment where we both don't know how to greet each other. Handshaking is too formal and he doesn't come across as the hugging or air kissing type.
"Hi," we both say rather lamely and dawdle for a moment before sitting down.
"How's your morning been?" I ask, shrugging out of my cloak.
"Busy. I've gone from meeting to meeting. You?"
"Hectic as always, but I like that," I say, hanging my satchel on the back of my seat and getting comfortable.
"I ordered coffee already," Draco informs me.
"Thanks," I say, grateful of his thoughtfulness. "You haven't been waiting long have you? I am on time, aren't I?"
I pull my clock necklace out from under the collar of my dress and check the time. It's only a couple minutes past one so I'm definitely not late.
"I could probably set my watch by you. You're very punctual. It's one of the things that first impressed me about you. You definitely don't keep a wizard waiting," he says and there's a hint of innuendo in his tone that makes me smile.
If only he knew the half of it, I think to myself, as the whole Zach Smith failed summer romance comes to mind.
"I guess my parents taught me well," I say breezily as a stout witch comes over to our table.
The waitress cheerfully sets down a cheese platter with crackers, grapes and a pat of butter. Draco cocks his head to the side and I sense that my remark has interested him in some way. He doesn't follow it up. He bows his head and sips his coffee.
Draco's skin is clear and very pale, it has a milky transparency that I find intriguing because it's delicately beautiful and contrasts with his strong jaw and razor sharp cheekbones. His eyebrows, eyelashes and hint of facial hair are fine and spun-sugar blond. Why is it that boys are blessed with perfect eyelashes and girls have to work so hard on theirs? All these things flash through my mind when I look at him.
"I didn't expect you'd want to see me after that interview."
"You were just doing your job," Draco drawls as he gets to work cutting slices of cheese. "But I don't do this for all the journalists who write good things about me, you know."
He looks up at me through those lovely eyelashes and I get tingly and hot when I think about him being interested in me.
"I'm glad you made an exception," I tell him, smiling with a mixture of pleasure and bashfulness.
Draco doesn't smile or react in any obvious way I interpret the minutia of his pose – the angle of his body to mine and the size of his pupils - to mean that he's encouraged by my words.
He butters me some crackers and serves me cheese and grapes. We pick over last night's events and although I don't feel completely comfortable talking with him the conversation keeps on coming. He makes me laugh with his witticisms about the other guests and it turns out he's a pretty good mimic. He's particularly good at the sycophantic bowing and scraping of Mafalda Vane, which reminds me.
"What's the deal with your family and Ottoline Higgs? There seemed to be some tension there last night. I mean, I get it, she's a total vampire."
"Yeah, that's about right," Draco crows. "It all happened years and years ago but Mother never forgave old Higgy for her part in the drama."
I look at him expectantly. It sounds like there's a juicy gossipy story there but he doesn't elaborate. He flips his head impatiently which makes his sleek blond hair fall back into line and out of his eyes.
"You haven't been at Witch Weekly long, have you?" he asks and this time there's a hint of a smirk on his lips.
"Is it that obvious?" I ask him self-consciously.
"No," he assures me, "but I bet the people you work with tell all sorts of stories about Ottoline Higgs over tea and biscuits. She's been around the Quidditch pitch a couple of times, if you see my meaning."
"Really!? How scandalous," I say salaciously, although the thought of Ottoline Higgs even touching someone else makes me want to dry heave.
"What did you do before Witch Weekly?" Draco asks me.
"I did an internship at Whizz Hard Books. What about you? Did you do anything besides investing and business? You wouldn't say when I interviewed you."
"After Hogwarts I took a year out and went traveling when I could… there were commitments that I had to come back for. I would have graduated the summer of the Battle of Hogwarts."
I think he's alluding to missed exams but I'm not one hundred per cent sure what he means by 'commitments'. The Battle of Hogwarts certainly messed with a lot of people's schooling. It was a strange time starting back at Hogwarts the autumn after the war. Half of the castle was still in ruins and people were retaking exams and entire school years. The fact that O.W.L and N.E.W.T results mattered after what we'd all experienced seemed absurd.
"Have you traveled much?" Draco asks, popping a grape into his mouth.
"A little," I say quietly, distracted by the pout of his lips as he chews in a rhythmically hypnotic way.
"I took a gap year too. I went across Asia with some friends. It was incredible. I'd like to travel more. I'd like to go to Paris, everyone says it's gorgeous," I say very quickly when I realize I'm staring at him.
"It is. We could go there at the weekend if you want," he suggests in a tone like going to Paris is the same as walking for here to Honeyduke's.
"You'd take me to Paris this weekend? Just like that?" I ask skeptically.
"Just like that." Draco clicks his fingers.
"I thought millionaires were frugal," I remind him, picking a grape off the bunch and tossing it into my mouth.
"We are, but we're still millionaires," Draco smirks. "A weekend in Paris won't clean out my vault. We could spend Saturday seeing the sights, go to the ballet and spend all day Sunday exploring the Musee de la Magie."
"I suppose that's just a regular weekend for you?" I grin.
"Unfortunately not, but if I'm going to take you to Paris for the very first time I want to do it properly."
He gives me a surveying look.
"You're not joking are you?" I gasp in awe and cover my disbelieving smile with my hand.
"Why would I be?" he asks nonplussed.
"Jeez, Draco…" I want to tell him that's not normal behavior but I think that might hurt his feelings. "I have so much work to do. I don't know if I can take the time off…"
"Are you always this driven?" he asked coolly.
"When I care about something," I reply, a little abashed. "What do you care about most?"
"That's a very personal question," he remarks, refusing to look at me.
I can see now that he's annoyed or hurt by my reluctance to go to Paris with him. He's being petulant rather than evasive like he sometimes is when I ask him probing questions. He's actually kind of adorable when he's sulking.
"I won't publish your answers to my questions this time, I promise," I rib, smiling broadly and leaning closer to him. "It's just me asking this time."
I catch his eye and he sits back in his chair to better observe me.
"You have a beautiful smile, you know?" he says, there's a gleam in his eye and I know he's trying to distract me on purpose.
"Answer the question, Malfoy," I challenge playfully.
"Once upon a time I'd have said my family but I'm not sure anymore," he says and his honesty disarms me.
I wasn't expecting him to be so serious and frank, but I'm deeply satisfied with his answer. It's the first time he's come close to being open with me.
"Do you live at home?" he asks.
"No. I moved out a month ago. I'm living with some friends in London. You?" I pick up my coffee and take a sip. I don't expect him to give me a straight answer, but he does.
"I live on the family estate but not in the Big House."
"Oh?" The inflection in my voice belies my curiosity.
"It's more convenient to me if I don't. Mother still lives there, so I often go up to visit a couple of times a week."
The fact that his family has an 'estate' and more than one house on it doesn't exactly surprise me but it does remind me of how totally different our lives are.
"What about your dad?"
The question is out of my mouth before I've really thought it through. At once Draco seems uneasy. I didn't mean to put my foot in it. It's just that I always think of my mum and dad as a pair or a team. There isn't one without the other for very long.
"Do you like living with your friends?" Draco asks, changing the subject.
I remind myself that Draco's dad is a sensitive subject and to steer clear of it in the future.
"Yes, I do," I say more brightly than I feel. The thought of Draco's dad maybe not being on the scene much makes me sad for him. My dad is awesome. I don't know what I'd do without him. "It's fun."
"And you were at Hogwarts with them, in Slytherin?"
"Xenia was in Slytherin. Bai - we call him Pace because he's music obsessed- was in Ravenclaw," I enumerate, happy to be back onto a safe topic.
"You live with him but he's not your boyfriend?" Draco questions and gives me one of his probing serious looks.
"He's not my boyfriend, no. I don't have one. Do you?"
"A boyfriend?" Draco's eyebrow quirks deliciously and I think I like him best when he's playful. "No, no boyfriend, no girlfriend. I'm not good at relationships. I don't do them well. They tend to end badly."
"It always takes two," I remind him, because even though he's still being light hearted he seems to be berating himself.
"Yes, it does, which is why I brought this with me."
He reaches down and picks up a black dragon-hide briefcase I haven't noticed before. I watch as he unclips the ornate silver fastenings and takes out a roll of parchment, which he hands to me.
"What's this?" I ask, awash with confusion. "Aren't I usually the one with the paperwork?"
"It's a Secrecy Agreement," he says and I notice he's become cool and business-like with me once more. "I need for you to sign it if you want to see me again."
My good mood plummets. I feel totally confused and blindsided by this new development. I look at the scroll in my hand and frown at him. His face is solemn and his silvery eyes watch me intently.
"Do you make all your friends sign secrecy agreements?" I ask, trying for humor but end up sounding incredulous.
"I don't want you to be just my friend, Astoria," he says with such intensity I can feel my mouth go dry and my cheeks burn in an instant.
"I thought a minute ago you said you don't do girlfriends," I remind him and unroll the parchment.
It's a proper legal, magically binding document with a crest and a seal – it's the whole nine yards. My mind jumps to Pansy. Is this why she wouldn't tell me any more last night at the party – because she couldn't? Has she signed one of these in the past?
"I said I'm not good at relationships but I'd like to try. With you. If you want to."
It's my turn to do the hard looking thing.
I was having a really nice time with him and this has thrown a hex in the works. I want to get to know him but I don't want to sign the agreement. Not out of any quiet desire to sell his secrets but because the whole idea of it offends me – it shows he doesn't trust me.
I honestly don't see why a secrecy agreement is necessary. He's so remote and closed off getting anything personal out of him is like trying to get blood from a stone. I find it highly unlikely that once I sign this agreement the floodgates of emotion will burst open.
"I would never tell anyone anything you wanted me to keep private," I tell him firmly, looking him straight in his smart grey eyes.
"I can see that you mean that," he says respectfully, which mollifies me slightly, "and I'd like to believe you but I don't take chances. If you want me to take you to Paris then you'll have to sign."
"That's bribery."
"I'm just reminding you what's on offer," he says with the trace of a smile hedging his lips. "I want to take you to Paris, Astoria. I want to get to know you."
"But you don't trust me," I say flatly.
"Not yet. I'm sorry if that offends you." He doesn't sound very sorry at all.
"It does. I haven't done anything to make you question my integrity," I point out indignantly.
"I know. It's just that there have been indiscretions in the past that I'd like to avoid. It's nothing personal against you. I value my privacy, maybe one day you'll understand why." There's a great heaviness in his voice as he tells me this.
"Help me understand now," I plead.
"I can't do that. It's complicated."
We sit and look at each other and it's obvious we've come to a stalemate. He's not going to back down, that much is obvious. Everything in me wants to dig my heels into the ground like a stubborn mule. I haven't done anything to make him doubt my trustworthiness. I feel like he's judging me by the standard of other people and that isn't fair. The problem is I do want to spend more time with him.
"So this Secrecy Agreement, if I sign it I can't tell anyone anything about you? Not even my friends or my parents?" I query, glancing over it.
"Of course you can, it's not a Fidelius Charm," Draco sneers.
I give him a sharp look. I'm trying to be the reasonable one here. I don't appreciate being made to feel stupid.
"There are some delicate matters that the secrecy agreement bars you from talking about. It's all there on the page. I'm not hiding anything from you," he says innocently.
I give him an ironic look. It seems like he's hiding so much from me he needs me to sign a secrecy agreement before I can go on another date with him!
I shift uncomfortably. Maybe Pansy was telling the truth after all. What if Draco Malfoy really is crazy or in need of some kind of psychological help. I don't want to sign anything that might come back to haunt me if something very bad were to happen.
"What if I get worried about you and I need to ask an outsider for help – like a Healer or some other kind of professional? Does your contract prohibit that?"
"I'd never thought about that…" Draco's long fingered hand cups his chin as he mulls it over.
I feel angry that no one in the past seems to have cared enough about him to ask such a glaringly obvious question about his dumb contract.
"I suppose it does in some situations but Astoria, it's not that kind of a secrecy agreement. I'm not a mad axe man! I don't plan on putting myself or you in any situation that would require medical intervention – will you just read it for goodness sake?"
I open it out on the table and take a moment to read. The script is elaborate and a lot of the wording is dense but it's actually not as absurd as I'd expected. It's still insanely controlling and shows a disappointing lack of faith in humanity but it's not unheard of considering who he is and what he does.
Most of the clauses actually relate more to any information I might find out about his parents than to anything else. The other topics are the no-brainers like his money, any potential sexploits, his business contacts and personal information like his home address and Floo details.
I press my fingers against my eyes and take a steadying breath. Draco is subtly anxious. His mouth is a thin line and he's jammed his fingers together so tightly it looks like someone's put a body-bind on them.
"I'm not going to sign it, Draco." I tell him at last.
He looks crestfallen and then furious.
"Well then I can't see you again. It's as simple as that," he snaps venomously and it pains me to see him so hurt and spiteful.
"I'm not going to sign it because I don't want a legal document to replace real trust in a relationship," I tell him evenly. "I'd want you to know that I'm loyal to you and keep your secrets because I respect you and I'm trustworthy – not because some jinx or curse keeps me from talking about it. I can see why you might need a document like this for some girls – but I'm not one of them."
I get up and gather my things together.
All the while Draco sits stonily in his seat, arms folded, chin jutting out harshly, grinding his teeth in quiet resentment. He's refusing to look at me and has focused his steely eyes on the wall.
"Thanks for lunch," I mumble and I turn to leave.
As I walk out of the shop I want him to call out or come after me. I want some dramatic moment of reconciliation but it doesn't happen. Besides, I've made up my mind. I'm not going to bend my principles for some guy, even if he is the gorgeous and mysterious Draco Malfoy.