A/N: Yes, it's short. I try to update every day, and that usually results in shorter chapters. If you would prefer I update less frequently with longer chapters, let me know. In regards to this chapter, it may be incredibly short but it's important.
Draco smirked as he read the bit of parchment in his hand.
40,000 galleons. You know the drill, darling.
His smirk intensified as he took a quill and wrote his response, his writing bold and confident. He tied the note to his owl and sent him off into the night.
Take that, bitch, he thought, pouring himself a brandy in satisfaction.
….
Miles away, an elegant and beautiful witch sat at her private bar, smoking a long, slim cigarette. She took a deep drag, blowing the smoke out through lips painted ruby red. Life was good, she thought, staring at her reflection in the long mirror behind the bar. Her beauty was unsurpassed, and thanks to a certain grey-eyed Malfoy, her wealth had grown exponentially. Men threw themselves at her and women glared with ill-disguised jealousy.
Yes, she mused, life certainly was good. She had everything she had ever wanted. Except for him. Her velvet eyes narrowed. He thought he was too good for her. He had always thought that, even in Hogwarts. Oh, she had seen the way he had looked at her. She had seen the undisguised teenage lust in his beautiful eyes. But it hadn't been enough, had it? He had dropped her like she was nothing.
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that at first she didn't notice the familiar regal black owl swoop into the room. It hooted reproachfully at her, and she glanced at it as she took another drag.
"Already, darling?" she laughed, removing the letter from the owl's leg. "Usually he waits at least a few hours." She unrolled the parchment, a mocking smile still on her red lips. Her dark eyes scanned the words he had written and her smile slowly faded, only to be replaced with a look of rage. She brushed some of her long, silky dark hair out of her face.
"So," she said to the owl, blowing a ring of smoke at it. "He's finally wised up, then. A shame. I thought it would take him another year at least." She tapped her long red fingernails on the bar thoughtfully. "Well, no matter. We will just have to initiate the next step in our plan sooner than expected. You!"
A large and ungainly man stepped out from behind the bar. He was built like a stump, stout with no discernible neck. She thought idly that he really hadn't changed much from their Hogwarts days. "Madam?"
"Tell the others we are moving forward," she ordered, taking a sip of her brandy. "Begin the preparations."
The man nodded. "Yes, madam." He lumbered from the room.
The woman looked at herself in the mirror as she took another drag. This was going to be fun. Oh, yes it was. And once she was through, once she was the wealthiest witch in Britain, he would notice her. He would want her. And she would get him at long last.