Chapter Eleven: "You've Got Another Thing Coming"
"Christ you people, would you get out of the way!"
Georgia May wasn't mad as she sounded, she was actually quite the contrary. Smiling brightly, she was dragging Draco by the hand into Heathrow, who was feeling slightly overwhelmed .
Her last night was spent with Mick, but her father wasn't able to drive her to the airport because he himself had to catch a flight to Canada for the first show of their North American tour. Vivienne would've come, they were close since she was young, but was much too busy preparing for Fashion Week. Everyone else she knew weren't free, so her new friend had obliged to join her so she wouldn't have to go alone.
Presently, photographers were snapping away at them both, crowding them like bees. Hoping, likely, to get a good enough shot of her outfit and company for their 'Farewell to America' piece as they always wrote. Since her mother started living in New York City, and when she went off to school, it was a necessity for British fashion and gossip blogs.
"Georgia, Georgia, who are you wearing?"
"Miss Jagger, who's your new bloke?"
"Georgia May, stop for a chat?"
Normally quite patient with reporters, they were on a schedule here; even rock n roll royalty had to get through customs.
"This is Draco, he's not my bloke, and I'm wearing Express. I have to go inside, so no I can't!"
The pair laughed as they walked in through the doors, security not allowing flash photography or the press past. Navigating their way to the check-in, Georgia had several admirers ask for autographs, to which she allowed with haste.
"You're quite pleasant aren't you? I'd probably slap everyone in the face if they got too close."
"Just used to it, I think. Been in the spotlight all my life, unfortunately. Thank you for coming, eh? Dad wanted to send a bloody bodyguard," she shook her head, ignoring patrons gawping at her when they got to wait in line. "It's been nice hanging out, thought you fell off the face of the earth once I was back!"
She was tanned from relaxing on the beach at St. Bart's for two weeks, making her dazzle even more against most of the tired, dull look slapped on most Londoners faces.
"No problem, I must admit I had a bit of an identity crisis after that night I called you out," Draco explained sheepishly, adjusting the lapels of his jacket.
"Or, you were lovesick," she responded coyly.
He flushed pink while she playfully nudged him; he'd relayed the events concerning his Gryffindor minx this morning in the taxi.
"Not lovesick. Just hadn't understood why I seemed to fancy messing her about so much. I think I realized hanging out with you, because you are genuine and nice - "
"Ooh, flatterer," Georgia fanned her face and leaned forwards; he pushed her fingers away.
"Hardly. I've been around such venomous people all my life, haven't I? That's the conclusion I came to. And I was the same way. Or maybe still am. But I'm hoping that's going to change."
"It will change, just watch your back if Pansy and Blaise are on the prowl," she giggled. He did not. "I can't believe how scandalous you turned out to be, going after Hermione so soon after she dumped him."
"Oh, shush," he waved her away. "I'm probably going to get assassinated."
"So dramatic. I wish you luck in your endeavour, and you'll be fine. First date too right? Aw, that's going to be so cute!"
"More like pathetic."
"You keep using that word, stop it."
"Oi, you said it was pathetic too," he reminded her, causing her to smirk slightly.
"Whatever, just make sure you tell me how it goes. Or go on Skype! Get Hermione to set it up for you," she winked, going up to the now available counter to a star struck worker.
"W-welcome to Virgin Atlantic, may I please see your passport and ticket?" he stammered in his red suit, turning scarlet as she grinned at him.
"Certainly, David" she replied genially, glancing at his nametag, turning back to Draco as he handed the boy her effects. "You know Viv designed these stewardess suits?"
"Really? An airline? She has weird business ventures, she does."
"Yeah, I know. I love it."
"Erm – boarding is at terminal 5, gate 3, Miss J-Jagger," David interrupted reluctantly. "The plane, flight 476, leaves at 4:35 PM, boards at 4. We require you go through Unites States security however before entering the departure lounge. May I take your luggage?"
Georgia stood back, amused, watching the young lad struggle to grab her massive suitcases: "Thank you so much darling!"
With her carry on, she grabbed her boarding pass from the counter, and stalked off with Draco to go to immigration. David, he noticed, looked quite like he'd been smacked with a frying pan as he watched Georgia's hips sway away in a daze.
"Well, here's where I leave you," Georgia leaned in for an embrace, squeezing him tightly. "I'll ring you when I'm back! Keep in touch, and – Excuse me, would you stop taking my damn picture?"
Shaking her fist at a man with his mobile out, the creep quickly stashed it in his pocket and sauntered away.
"I swear, some people. Anyways," Georgia cleared her throat. "Bye Draco."
"Bye. Going to be alright on your own?" he teased, pecking her on the cheek before stepping away.
"Yes, my god. Don't you fret. My housemate, Cara, is meeting me at JFK, and she'll probably bring her ex-military boyfriend. Must be off!"
She waved as she went to line up for the body scan, and Draco was feeling content as he left.
He felt ridiculously different than the scheming bastard he'd been not a month ago. And though it was slightly terrifying to attempt a complete 180 switch, he hadn't quite figured out what he was going to do make the change complete.
In any case, his date with Hermione was tomorrow night, and though he was still unsure of what they were doing as she'd been vague about plans, he couldn't wait.
Until that is, he woke up the next morning.
{}
Spotted!: Who's Georgia May's New Beau?
Georgia May, Mick Jagger's little princess, was seen entering Heathrow airport yesterday with a mysterious blonde bloke. Daddy is off on a world tour, and her escort for the day got a little bit cozy, leaning in for a farewell kiss, laughing over inside jokes. Exclusive to Daily Mail is the surprising snap, captured by one of her fans inside the building.
Miss Jagger attends NYU for Fine Arts, and lives with fellow model Cara Develigne.
Unnamed sources speculate that the man in question was Draco Malfoy, 22. Recently Mister Malfoy had a launch party for his styling business, Like Magic, featuring a dress by long-time icon Vivienne Westwood. Jagger models for Westwood, and her mother, former model Jerry Hall, has known the designer for years. Perhaps, the Daily Mail speculates, that's how they met?
We wish them luck if they are an item. Will long-distance shape up for them, or will they fizzle out? Only time will tell.
Blaise slammed the paper down on his kitchen table, wondering, quite angrily, what the hell Malfoy was playing at.
Certainly, the tabloid could be lying. And yet, Draco was still there, being all chummy with a girl he'd shagged a month ago. Why?
He had no doubts in his mind that Draco was behind his relationships demise before Pansy confirmed it. So when she came steaming in three week ago, bitching loudly about how much of a prat he was, it didn't make him feel any better that he turned out to be right.
Theo was up to something too. Malfoy and Nott hadn't been chummy, and yet, they'd passed glances that didn't go unnoticed.
"What the fuck is going on?" he questioned for possibly the hundredth time that week.
Why, exactly, would Draco want to break he and Hermione up? He didn't like the girl, did he? Why would that facet of his life matter, he could get any girl he wanted. Unless Malfoy was simply looking for petty revenge and that was a good target, what would his concern be for her?
Admittedly, he hadn't banked on the fact that Georgia May would ever see Draco again, let alone shack up with him or hang out. She was far too good looking for the likes of him.
Blaise still wasn't sure what to do about it. He'd been exceedingly busy with work, but now he had Pansy on board. He couldn't trust her, especially when she was acting like a woman scorned. Not like he had to begin with. She'd been relentless, anyways, to seek this vengeance. While she liked a more direct approach, sabotage was much more fun and satisfying to him.
This needed to get off the ground, threats weren't enough anymore.
He dragged his phone from across the counter, and sipped his coffee, dialling: "Yes? Pansy? I think we should meet up, hm? Excellent."
{]
"Hello?"
His voice was groggy, it always felt far too early to get up, no matter when he awoke.
"Yes, Draco Malfoy?"
"Speaking." He rolled over onto his back, rubbing his bare stomach absent-mindedly, throwing off the blankets as he'd become too hot.
"Hello, this is Regina Sparksman, the representation of Suze Miller."
"Who?"
He heard a scoff through the line.
"Suze Miller? Currently has a number one hit single on BBC 1? 'Parasitic Love'?"
"Never heard of it, I'm afraid. May I help you?"
"I – " the woman faltered on the other end, not used to such an indifferent reaction. "The Top of the Pops Awards Gala is tomorrow night."
"And you'd like me to style your client for you? That's a bit of a tight time schedule, in'nt?" he finished off for her, to which he could tell she was increasingly annoyed.
"Trust me, darling, you'd be lucky for the opportunity to have her."
"Then why are you the one ringing me? I'm fairly busy today, Miss Sparksman. With all due respect, it's quite late notice."
"Trust me, I would not be ringing you had you not been in the papers this morning. Miss Miller has been away in Africa doing charity work," she stressed, apparently trying to make him feel reassured about her validity as a person.
"I'm in the paper?" he asked alarmed, his delight fading.
"Yes, the Daily Mail. With Georgia May Jagger," she mentioned begrudgingly. He exhaled a sigh of relief. "Our stylist we'd booked has decided to be a stroppy cow and backed out last minute for that damn floozy girl group, Girls Aloud. Miss Miller needs her dress picked, and her stage outfit; she'll get them with or without you. The offers on the table. If you pass her up, you're dismissing an opportunity to have your name printed again in anything other than a third party mention."
This woman was frightfully acidic; he sort of liked it, if he was honest. Her approach, acting like you had better things to do essentially, had always worked for him.
And this would be a good chance for more fame, especially if she won an award, especially if she was performing. But he was busy until 5 and he most certainly didn't want to cancel anything with Hermione. However, having been invested in his work lately, he was now taking it more seriously.
Sighing, he had a predicament: "Thank you for your offer, Miss Sparksman. I must confess, I am full up today, but if you will allow me ten minutes, I can try to rearrange it for you."
"That would be lovely," she replied, her tone now sickly sweet.
Hating himself, he said goodbye then rung up Hermione, who he knew would be awake, and when she answered, he felt the butterflies come back and his decision-making filter clogging.
"Hey, good morning. Didn't expect a call from you. Ready for tonight?" she exclaimed with happiness and excitement unmasked within the question.
He hadn't spoken to her since Tuesday.
"Morning, sunshine," he groaned, fighting the urge to shout at her to skip work and come over that second. "About that. It's totally up to you, but I've just been asked to style for some famous girl for Top of The Pops tomorrow. Guess I was in some tabloid with Georgia, and I'm a last resort? Feels great. I'll have Roy check the hits on my website…..Anyways, I want to say no, because you're much more important, but the opportunist in me is nagging to go for it, seeing as she'll be on television. I'm busy until 5, and this could take hours."
"Oh," she paused. And he was unable to decipher if she sounded pissed or not. "Who for? And whose Roy?"
"Oh, Roy does my website stuff. Designed it, fixes it, I don't know, I just pay him. And the girl is– Suze Miller? Look, I don't know why I considered it, how rude of me that was, I just – "
"Suze Miller? Are you serious? She's everywhere nowadays, you have to do it! It's her first award show, you could totally milk that, she could become your client if she lasts."
"Who knew you were such an entrepreneur," he laughed in disbelief. "I can't believe you're alright with it. So you're not upset?"
"Oh, of course not, Draco. Don't be mad, but I haven't gotten round to informing anybody about our pending rendezvous," she laughed in a fake French accent.
"I'm not, I haven't told anyone either to avoid being punched," he smirked.
He heard her titter on the other end. "Well, your concern is legitimate at least. Don't worry, seriously. If I had an option to better my rep at the Ministry, I'd cancel too, wouldn't I?"
"I guess so," he chuckled, remembering how much more focused she was than he. And then he pouted; "I want to see you though."
"I do as well….we can go out tomorrow, unless you're busy."
"I'm supposed to have lunch with my mother, and then Miles invited me out later, but I can cancel."
"How sweet." And she seemed as if she meant it.
"Call you later?"
"Yes, where will you be anyways? Maybe I can pop in."
"Ugh, to see me at work?" he pulled a face. "Picking out dresses for other women isn't very romantic. And I go where they want, but I'll probably end up at that department store though, whatsit? Harvey Nicholas?"
Giggling, Hermione corrected him. "Nicols. You really need to research more Muggle things. Seeing as they are very interested in you. And I don't mind."
"Hmm, you sure you don't just want to meet old Suze?" he asked mock-offended.
"No, not really. Her voice is rather irritating, actually. But I always thought it might be fascinating to see the process."
"Well, you are rather strange, so," he joked, relief filling him that she wasn't merely interested in some girl he'd never heard of.
"Yeah, yeah. Alright then, meet at Harvey Nichol's?"
"Come right after you're done so we can talk before whatserherface comes. If you can."
"I make no promises."
"Bye, Hermione."
And entering the shower, grinning to himself and humming some song he couldn't remember the name of, that was the final time that day he'd feel elated.
Because by the time it had reached the afternoon, as soon as he eft his house, he was exhausted. Not a single person, wizard or otherwise, had co-operated with him. They all were uptight, thought they knew better than him, or would not stop asking if he was dating Georgia even though he'd repeated 'no' about a thousand times.
So when he felt his pocket vibrating after his last appointment, he was in no mood for the troubling news he was about to receive.
"Hello?"
"Hey Draco, it's Miles. Really rubbish at using these things, hold on."
Confused, he heard a scuffling over the line until he returned.
"Anything the matter?" he inquired, anxiety pooling in his stomach. Since when did Miles have a phone? He didn't work, at least conventionally, and had no use for them.
"Fuck – alright. Was holding it upside down. I don't know, actually. But Adrian and I just had Sergei walk in here asking if we knew where you were. He was bloody irate, mate. We're at The Spiny Serpent, by the way."
Feeling his heartbeat quicken, he tried to keep his nerves from his voice. The Spiny Serpent was a pub in Diagon Alley. It was a men's hangout, Pansy hated it. Sergei must be on a hunt if he went there looking for him.
Suddenly, he had an inkling about exactly the reasons Sergei might be after him, and a rage surged through him that was much too intangible to describe.
"That's odd….thanks though, mate. I'll try and get in touch with him."
"Good luck, eh? Tonight as well."
"Thanks."
He had told only Miles and Georgia about the date, but now that he wasn't having one, and now he was probably about to get his arse kicked, he wasn't thankful at all.
Pansy wouldn't respond to him after numerous attempts, and he didn't know how to go about finding Sergei.
But as it turned out, he didn't need to in the end. Paranoid, he had hidden himself in Harvey Nichols very early, when lo and behold, a Russian accent was calling out to him.
"Draco, I need to talk to you."
Sitting outside the empty dressing rooms, his mind was more worried about how Sergei had known where he was. But his expression grew blank with shock at how ugly Sergei appeared. Being spineless and running away wasn't an option now, and the only way to try and persuade this man in any way was to start talking.
"I've been trying to get in contact with you all day," Draco told him, standing up to him. "And I know what you're going to say, and know why you're angry."
"Oh, do you?" he jeered, face shining with remnants of tears, a fact that stung Draco unwillingly in the gut. "And vat exactly vould that be, uh?"
"You're going to accuse me of trying it on with Pansy, when she was the one who tried it on with me."
Muttering curses in his native language, Sergei was taken aback at his calm tone, but wasn't completely stunned that he would've guessed. He'd expected him to either deny everything or create a false story.
"If she was guilty, vhy didn't you tell me then!" he yelled, inching ever so closer to Draco, pointing a finger to his chest.
"Because I was completely wasted, and so was she. It wasn't all her fault, alright, and she never brought it up. I suspected she was so ashamed of it, and I didn't want to talk about it if it was going to ruin your lives!"
"And vhy should I believe you? I trusted you to bring her to that party, to keep her safe, and then you go and kiss her!"
"But I didn't."
"Don't lie to me!"
A man possessed, he shoved Draco into the wall, and Draco, incensed, rolled up his sleeves and argued with him to stop.
"I'm not, Sergei," he spat, slinking from his immediate reach. "Listen to me, please. She asked me why I didn't like her, why I didn't want her."
"I see the way she looks at you, Draco. There must be something going on. Stop pretending you don't fancy her!"
"Mate, I bloody don't! There's nothing going on. Pansy likes to get what she wants, and I've never had sex, let alone a relationship, alright? Come on, she must've told you that! She likes to claim people, likes to feel worthy and wanted. I told her I didn't ever fancy her, and that she had you. She hasn't had the best taste in judgement when it comes to blokes in the past. When they do something to piss her off she just dumps them. I don't think she understands that you're not the same. Maybe they didn't love her, I know you do or you wouldn't be so mad."
"Of course I love her, you stupid sonofabitch! I tell her every day. She says she loves me too, but vas too scared to tell me about that night for fear of losing me! Vouldn't you having nobody be even more of a reason to get vith her?"
"No! Sergei, she's lying. And don't take this the wrong way, but she was always all over me at school! I could've dated her had I wanted to. Point is, she leaned in that night, in her flat, on her bloody bed, and touched me, snogged me. I should've known better than to allow her to let me lie down in there, but stupid me thought it was her being courteous. She was going to suck my cock, alright. She saw my face and stopped though. She did feel guilty, but now she's stringing you along, she does this sort of thing all the time!"
The next thing he felt was intense coursing pain in his collar; Sergei had stricken him with his fist.
Staggering, the furious boyfriend looked slightly remorseful, slightly deranged.
"FUCK!" Draco hissed, grabbing his shoulder. "Sergei, I'm sorry! I was in the wrong, but you've outlasted so many others she's dated that I thought she just made a mistake. I really don't know why she has this stupid fixation on trying to get me into bed. I don't want her."
Sergei contemplated him for a minute, shaking his head at the idea that somebody wouldn't desire his beautiful, fiery woman.
"Come on, please implore me. We fell out because she was bitter about me kissing fucking Georgia May, you know? Because she insists on controlling my every whim, and I got scared that if I for once gave in to her, she'd dump me. I've no idea what she said about that to you, but I'm staying away from her for good. And I know you care for her, but I'd advise you to do the same."
After minutes passed, filled only with steadying breaths, Sergei still hadn't said a word, and was looking at the floor. An employee passed by, and after Draco reassured that they were just fine, he finally spoke.
"I don't care about Georgia May. I don't care about your friendship, if you hurt her, Draco. Pansy vas mad because she didn't vant you involved with somebody like her. Says she's a bad influence. She cares about you, vants vat's best for you. She and Blaise told me that you hatched a plan to break that Hermione up with him. That you said he cheated, and he didn't. How do I know that you aren't just trying to string people along, and it's not her?"
Draco chuckled mirthlessly, loathing his old friends, if you could call them that, to no end.
"You're joking, right? 'Somebody like her'? You're blinded by love, my friend. I will admit I was scheming, but only to get back at Blaise without him trying to use his influence before I could mine. And that had absolutely nothing to do with Pansy. Call Georgia right now, I'll let her tell you a little something about Blaise. In fact, call Hermione, mate, and let her relay what happened, huh? Blaise is a liar, and Pansy is trying to save her own hide so you'll still be with her, and you know what's funny? It's probably not because she even wants to be with you, it's so you don't humiliate her by being the one to end it."
His fists were clenched: "Draco, I swear to Merlin if you do not stop – "
"But I won't! What do you want from me? To admit something I didn't do, Sergei? I'm telling you the truth! Blaise is a scumbag, and Pansy is conniving."
"Oh, and you aren't?" he snarled. "You just said you schemed! For what?"
"I had proof that Blaise cheated. I saw him do it in the flesh. I gor rid of it to save Georgia, as she turned out to be the complete opposite of what I expected. She felt horrendous for helping cheat, and she was unaware of it, so I teamed up with her instead to show Hermione of his infidelity. Fact is, at my party in London, at the end of the night, I caught Blaise fucking her in a bathroom stall next to mine. I took a video of it to use it as blackmail!"
"You lied to me."
And just like that, with a slip of the tongue, Draco's world was turned upside down.
He spun round, horrified, to see Hermione, livid, embarrassed.
She was embarrassed because she couldn't believe she had let the thought cross her mind that Malfoy had changed. That she was meeting up to give him the time of day.
"Hermione."
He grew ghostly white, his throat enclosed in on itself, and he felt as if he was drowning with no escape.
"I can't believe you."
"Vat is she doing here? Are you – " he stopped, and as a possibility floated into his head, Sergei wound up to smack Draco again. "You broke them up so you could go after her! Etot chel huesos ebanyi! Stay away from him Hermione, he tried to get Pansy to cheat vith him!"
"What!"
"I didn't!" Draco fell back onto a chair, throwing his hands up. "Ask her, Sergei, ask her. Look, Hermione, I didn't want to tell you about it, but during the yacht party, when I got kicked off, Pansy took me back to her place and tried to touch me! And I was too drunk to stop her soon enough, but she did, and I let it go, it was a mistake!"
"The only mistake here is thinking I could ever let myself like you! Why did I even – god," she stomped the ground and rolled on her heel to leave.
"Hermione, wait!"
Heaving himself up, sharp stinging resonated throughout his upper body, he ran towards her, pulling her by the arm. She pushed him away, so hard he fell onto the ground.
"No!" she screamed shrilly. "You twisted me around your little, pathetic fingers, and lied. You saw them cheating and I was right there! You could've told me straight away, and instead you thought it would be better to plan a nastier revenge? You're despicable."
"I know, okay, I know! I tried to do the better thing in the end, I – "
"And you said you only ever kissed Georgia and Pansy, but I thought that might've been in school! How can I accept your word as true?"
"Please."
His slate eyes were telling her he wasn't hiding anything else, but she frankly didn't care.
"No. Never call me again, never come to my flat, I never want to see you again."
"Can you at least tell Sergei that you were cheated on? Because otherwise he's going to think Blaise is a great man. And he's going to be as hurt as you!"
Unsettled by his request, having been one so decent, she decided that she could leave this one man with no dignity left and save another from the same fate. Nobody else should have to keep dealing with guttersnipes. She stepped over his legs, purposefully hitting him with her handbag, and click-clacked her way to a disgruntled Russian.
He was still and unreadable as she stalked towards him. They'd never passed anything but a glance.
"Hi Sergei….Look, I know you don't know me, but even if Malfoy is a devious prick, he wasn't lying about Blaise. Georgia May called me and confessed to it, Blaise came round after I dumped him not an hour later and screamed at me. All the Slytherins have histories of coming together and blindsiding people, getting away with it, and then being found out when the damage is already done."
"A-and you think zat Pansy might not be telling ze truth?"
He looked so dejected, she almost wanted to chuck Draco into the bin. But despite his shortcomings, she knew he was ultimately the lesser of two evils where Miss Parkinson was concerned.
"I do. Whether or not he started it is irrelevant, because she didn't tell you until now that she'd done anything. When she was feeling vengeful, she knew she could manipulate you to get her revenge. If she was with Blaise, I have no doubts in my mind that they conspired together to get back at him. Isn't it odd timing? Why she hates that arse, I don't know," she glared in Draco's general direction. "But I can tell you she's always been protective of him, and it never seemed to be just out of being good friends."
With that, she left him there, strode past Draco who was lying on the tile now, staring at the ceiling, and onto the elevators to go home and spend her whole night sleeping.
After what felt like years, Sergei also left, silently without apology, and it was then that Draco felt himself crumbling into pieces onto the shiny floor.
Because now he was alone again.
Saturday
"Oh Draco, I'm so sorry! God, you just keep getting the short end."
Georgia was appropriately frazzled at the news.
"It's my fault, this is what I get for being a sod."
"But – noooo, you can't say that. Can't give up."
"I'm not, but I've accepted that, at least dealing with people from my past, there's too much water under the bridge. I was a fool thinking I'd ever be good enough, good in the literal sense, for somebody like Hermione."
"But you guys would be so cute! Augh, this is real shite, mate."
"Yep. Anyways, I have to go, my mum just walked in. Talk later."
He hung up and dropped the phone uncaringly on the tablecloth. Narcissa, elegant as ever, graciously thanked the waiter for pulling out her chair.
"Darling! I haven't seen you in so long it feels!"
He grinned as best he could, sipping on her favourite merlot as politely as possible; he hated red wine.
And it was then, in the pretentious Greek restaurant, he was thinking to himself that perhaps it was better to shut his emotions up forever. Because not even his mother seemed to care about them, it was written all over his face that something was amiss.
Still, she opened her mouth and told him about the mundane. How Lucius was acting like a recluse and only left the house with his mates (Perhaps that's where I get it from, Draco snidely deduced) and all the gatherings they'd been to lately, about how thin he looked in 'terrible London'.
It didn't help he had grown somewhat of a conscience. He knew it was his own doing that he had a miserable time, barely poking at his meal, listening to his mother prattle on and on, and answering dull questions about his work. He should've told her what was going on, and how he felt. But he spent so long putting up his walls to be a perfect specimen, and a perfect son, that he couldn't find it in him to just spill.
It was also his doing that he declined her invite to go back to the manor to spend a night with his family, and he found himself sitting at home later, solitary. Scarfing on biscuits and drinking coffee, he turned on the telly for a laugh. Instead of finding the muggle event an amusing trash heap, he found it depressing witnessing Suze, who was the biggest cunt he'd ever met, singing in her screechy voice in the leather romper he'd picked out.
The one she fought him for nearly two hours over.
That was just for her performance: on the red carpet she wanted to wear cream. ('Like a Roman princess!') But she was so covered in fake tanner that when he suggested she'd look like a tangerine, she huffed away and had a diva moment to her publicist, keeping him for a near half hour, until trying on the navy Burberry dress he said was ideal for her and realized he was right.
Rehashing his appointment last night, he wished he'd never made it. This is what his daily routine was turning into, and what he'd been afraid of. His life was actually revolved around clothes. Clothes! He wanted to do something rebellious compared to everyone else, but his whole existence was based on superficiality, the very thing Hermione accused him of doing. The very thing he thought he wasn't.
He didn't give a flying rats ass about what shoes people liked, he just knew what would look good on their stinking feet. What colours would match their skin tone. He was catering to the very type of people he wanted to cut from his life.
"Maybe I should just pack up and move to fucking Tibet."
Tuesday: Kilburn
"Hermione, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, Finlay."
It was babysitting night, and she still wasn't finished beating herself up for what she'd let herself feel. She actually wasted tears on that son of a bitch, and she despised herself for it.
"Your smile says you're fine, but your eyes don't."
Why are kids so perceptive, she marvelled to herself, sighing as she cleared the table from dinner.
"I just haven't had a good couple of days, love."
Finlay jumped up and hugged her waist, to which she immensely appreciated, having everything bottled up inside. Harry and Ginny would've bought a shotgun had they been informed.
"Does it have to do with that Finnish guy? He was nice."
"Finnish?"
"Draco, or whatever?"
Her lungs plummeted into her chest. "Kind of."
"Well, what happened? Was he mean?"
He was so innocent, and it was funny that it occurred to her that he'd be the only human being she could discuss Malfoy with who wouldn't be biased.
"Sort of. He lied to me, or else, didn't entirely reveal the truth."
Finlay's eyes widened.
"Well that ain't a good thing to do! What a mook."
Lately, the little boy had been into old American gangster movies. Hermione convinced him to take a short break from lightsabers and the force.
"Yes, it wasn't nice."
"So why are you sad?" he questioned further, walking to the couch and patting the spot next to him in a terribly endearing way.
"I – " Why was she sad? "I guess I fancied him more than I initially thought."
"That must be crap."
"Finlay," she scolded, amused, going to join him. "It is a bit. Oh, hold on – "
She picked up her mobile, an unknown number on it, and furrowed her brow.
"Hello?"
"Hermione, it's Luna. Harry gave me your number, don't be cross with him," she began in her airy way.
"O-Oh, hi Luna. I won't be, how are you?"
She hadn't seen the girl in a long while, she'd been living with Xenophilius forever. She spent her time working for The Quibbler, and rarely left except for 'research trips'.
Hermione found it extremely strange, and for the Lovegoods that was saying something, that she had a phone and could use it well. They were a family so entrenched in the wizard world, she never would've imagined she'd get Muggle technology.
"Lovely. I just wanted to call because I bought a house in Dartford with dad."
"What? That's fantastic, Luna!"
"Yes, it's quite exciting. I have been convincing him for ages to try and move locations, but London is too foggy, and he's afraid of the nargles. Also, it's been rumoured that a giant dabberblimp lives in Big Ben. I think we could fight them all off, but you know dad – bit paranoid, isn't he?"
Stifling a laugh, Hermione felt joy fill her greatly. Though they didn't agree on the existence of many things, and on basic principles, her spirit was refreshing and she always appreciated it.
"I'll have to come visit, yes? Er – maybe with Ginny?"
"Oh yes, we're having a big party. We moved the office of The Quibbler to an actual building! It might be a bit to get used to, but that means all of us contributors can work together in one space, I'm very keen to look at the wildlife in the area. I hear that gulping plimpies, exceedingly rare, are in the ponds there."
"Well I wish you luck in setting up. When's the party?" she dodged a discussion about magical creatures, for she knew that she wouldn't be able to escape for another hour.
"Next Friday. Expect an invite. We're getting as many people we know so it'll be like a reunion!"
"Great, I'll RSVP as soon as I can."
"Yes, that's a good idea. I have to go now. I think the waves from these cell phones are affecting the protection signal from my earrings. Bye Hermione."
Hanging up, Hermione sighed happily; having something to look forward to was exactly what she needed. And if Luna was hosting the party, it was sure to be a night to remember, without any unwanted interference.
Tuesday; Mayfair
Situations are irrelevant now; she loves the way that I tease, I love the way that she breathes.
I touched her ooh, she touched my ahhh - It was the craziest thing.
I love the girls who hate to love because they're just like me.
"What the hell are we listening to?"
Draco was lying on his sofa, trying not to pay attention to anything while Roy and Michael were playing some shooting game on a console Draco didn't care about.
He'd gotten so desperate for company that the only people he could think of inviting over were his employees.
They didn't take him that seriously because he was so young and didn't seem to know about the simplest things, but also respected his authority because he paid their bills.
"It's post-hardcore, don't you like it?"
Roy had a penchant for loud, screamy music.
"No. I hate it."
"Well too bad, we had to listen to your ancient tastes an hour ago – dammit!"
He'd just been beaten by Michael, who emitted a triumphant 'ha-ha!' and asked for a rematch.
They were a strange pair:
Michael was lanky and awkward, and unfailingly nice; exactly the opposite a cutthroat finance major should be. He had thick glasses, and wore short-sleeve plaid shirts.
Roy was very out there, with stretched holes in his ears, a stripe of green in his hair, and always wore black nail polish and black everything. Draco didn't understand his look, but appreciated that he wanted to be a graphic designer and refused to change his appearance to appease the employers.
Both of them were a bit geeky and lame, but it made Draco feel only slightly better about himself.
"The Rolling Stones are good."
"You only say that because you want us to know you boned Georgia May Jagger you lucky bastard. Now come on and join us, stop moping," Roy spit with pizza in his mouth.
"I didn't bone her, she's my friend. And no, for the last time. I don't even know how to play it."
"Hence why you start playing, der. And yeah, yeah, well then at least you know pretty lasses. Suze Miller is fit. Can't even open my mouth to talk to one," Michael confessed pathetically.
"Suze Miller is a whiny bitch. And you say, 'Hi, I'm Michael Lott, nice to meet you," Draco explained like he was daft, and Roy choked on his beer.
"It's not that easy!" he whined, "You have money and suits, and a nice house. Roy has cheek and an expansive taste in music, what've I got?"
"Bollocks," Draco suggested, to which Roy held up his palm for a high-five. He was rejected.
"Cheer up, Draco. The world is not so bad, is it?"
Roy enjoyed how moody this kid was, acted like the world was on his shoulders when everything he had was handed to him. But he understood that it must be incredibly boring to not have to do anything at all, and he liked that he wasn't snotty or looked down on them (too much).
"It's mediocre."
"Mate, why'd you invite us over if you're gonna just lie there? Grab a stinkin' beer, and come be sociable. Just cuz you're stuck in the dark ages and have never played Nintendo….. Didn't mummy teach you manners?"
"She told me not to associate with plebeians," he smirked, and the boys both had their moment of 'Ohhh!' which comes with a good burn and they all shared a laugh. For a moment, Draco thought he might be a bit better;
And then the door was being knocked.
And after a minute of silence, it was pounded on again.
"Aren't you going to get it?"
"Shut up, Michael," Roy said, pausing the game, noticing the look of fear stretch across Draco's face. 'Y'alright? Should we prepare ourselves?"
With his proclivity for heavy guitar, he also liked violence. He didn't' know why the Malfoy's were so rich, after all, and drugs or worse was usually the reason for fortunes.
Draco was aware of his inkling for fights, but he didn't want to be hauled off to prison tonight.
"No. I just don't know who it is."
"Well, doy, why don't you ask?"
For some reason, that had never occurred to him. Though he was sure of who it was, actually, as they had passed security, he may as well make it known he wasn't alone.
Standing up, he strolled over to the door, the two following suit. In an effort to look like he was in power, he sang: "Who is it?"
The boys who stood back snickering, stopped when the voice was female.
"It's Pansy."
"You're not by yourself, are you? If Blaise is out there, I'm not letting you in."
He heard arguing behind him until he shot them an irritated look:
"Who's Pansy?" "Who names these children?"
Silence smothered the room until finally: "Draco, we just want to talk to you."
It was a booming voice; but it wasn't Blaise.
For the second time in a few days, he was struck with so much vehemence, he wrenched the door open, uncaring that he looked unkempt and exhausted, and began to shout.
Because he was faced with not two, but three smug people who thought they could get what they wanted:
"THEODORE AURELIUS NOTT! You are a vile prick who doesn't deserve to be shit on anyone's shoes! You two-timing no good – augh!"
Theo merely chuckled, and folded his arms. Normally Draco would've found the gesture worth bopping him on the nose for, but he was in no mood with his bruised shoulder. Instead, he turned to Blaise, who was happy he had reacted so soon to the effrontery.
"What the hell do you want?" he asked instead, knowing he was their pitiful ringleader.
The visitors intended to inch closer inside, so not to be heard, and they faltered only slightly when they noticed two muggles; one cowering in fear, the other a cobra with venom in his snarl.
"Your jig is up, Malfoy. Theo told me everything you've been planning, and all you've done. I think some revenge is in order."
"What, in front of them?" he asked, the severity conveyed in his expression; surely revenge meant wands.
"Guess not, eh?" he raised a brow, tilting his head to look at them.
"What the bloody fuck were you expecting to do? Waltz in here and give me a concussion?"
"Something like that. As a final warning. But it looks as if you've already fallen down hard, haven't you? No friends left? Theo, it's worse than I thought."
"Whatever that told you, he's lying," he pointed to Theo, who shrunk back the slightest bit. "During that party, he came to me, after you insisted Astoria could be yours, and enlisted me to get revenge; for both of us. Isn't that right Nott?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do! And you," he turned to Pansy, who looked so sour he didn't know how to feel, "are just as bad as he is. Telling Sergei that I took advantage of you! The fucking nerve! You wanted to suck my dick and when I hid it for you, you throw it in my face?"
Blaise's face contorted into a grimace, the same with Notts.
His house guests exchanged glances.
"What?" their leader asked, disgusted. "You hid that tidbit from me."
"Doesn't matter; this idiot got what he wanted. Sergei broke up with me," she whispered acidly.
"I DIDN'T WANT THAT! You brought it on yourself, you daft – fuck! Get out of my damn house. Destroy my reputation, I don't care anymore. I'm done with all of you, I'll just wait pitifully for you to be done with me too."
"Stop acting pathetic," Blaise jeered, daring to yank him by the shirt collar.
What they all hadn't noticed was Roy edging ever so close to the intruders, fists balled. These assholes in fancy dress had showed up to make threats and expected Draco to take them. Well maybe Draco would, but he wouldn't.
"I am pathetic; But now I'm better than you all, I'm honest. You lot are worse, aren't you?"
"Oh, are we?" Blaise narrowed his eyes. "Try and steal my woman and fail miserably due to your own idiocy. Never reveal your plans to anybody, Draco, that's a lesson you can learn from me; and honesty will murder you. The key to success is deny, deny, deny," he laughed mirthlessly and pushed him backwards, hurting his injured arm.
He rubbed it, Pansy noticed, and couldn't help but ask what happened to it.
"Are you alright?"
"Are you drunk? Your bloody boyfriend – oh, I'm sorry – ex, came to find me after you gave him a display of crocodile tears and punched me when I told him the truth about you."
"Oh, Draco," she muttered, running in to hug him, something that made him nauseated.
Theo and Blaise were stunned, mirroring Roy and Michael, and watched in horror the set scene.
"You're so fucking selfish, you don't care about anybody but yourself!" he screamed harshly as he backed away. She looked seriously damaged, but he wasn't fazed. "You scheme to get back at me because you hate me yesterday, and now you feel sorry and want to somehow make it better? You can go rot in a hole, Pansy. You can join her, Blaise! Theo, I hope Astoria dumps you for a Prince and you are forced to watch her be happy without you!"
The other two were about to act until she did something rash.
"B-but, don't you see now we can try it? I'm single. Come on,"she pleaded in a small voice, one he'd heard too many times before, a perfect measure of vulnerability laced in it. "You can't have wanted Granger, you're just confused."
"You sicken me. You're delusional! Never in my life will I want you. I don't even want to see you, and that's final. GET IT? I don't want you, and I never will. Now get the hell out of my house."
He pointed to the door with such conviction she felt humiliation engulf her.
And then she did the most irrational thing; she leaned in and slapped him across the cheek; and began relentlessly smacking him on his injured shoulder.
He cried out in pain and pushed her, a bit too forcefully, so she fell back into Theo's grasp.
Heavy breaths were heard around the foyer, Draco and Pansy's gazes were locked; Blaise was alarmed by this random muggles (Roys) expression.
The silence was broken and all hell broke loose when Michael decided to speak to Pansy, who was shaking:
"You are fucking mental."
Draco wasn't certain who had thrown the first punch, but suddenly Blaise was on the floor clutching his arm. Theo was a wimp and hid behind Pansy, but Pansy was incensed enough to try and thwack Michael on his side while he pulled Blaise off of Draco.
Having muscles helped, and Blaise had dove off his back and tackled Draco's legs, aiming for his face. Draco struggled, being skinny and already wounded, but Roy had so much rage in him that it didn't matter if he was graceless. He kicked him in the arm lightly so he couldn't swipe at Draco anymore.
It was all over quickly, and Draco was happy as the three scrambled away, that he had managed at the last second to knock Blaise square in the jaw, his purple knuckles proof of it.
Collapsing on the floor, Michael sitting against the closed door in disbelief, Roy retrieved three lagers and twisted the caps off with his teeth, spitting them on the ground and passing them round.
"Blimey, Mike. You really don't know how to talk to women, do you?"
For some reason, it was the funniest thing Draco had ever heard in his life. Michael gave an apologetic look, but their host couldn't stop laughing, getting hysterical when Roy slid over to see if he was alright.
"Fuck, I'm fine," he spluttered, sitting up and wiping his face. "Thank you gentleman. Really."
"Oh, you've been humbled, have you? Don't know what that was all about, but it sounds complicated and petty. Glad you chose us over them," Roy added, pulling him up so they could resume their activities.
It hit Draco too, that he did indeed pick them over his old classmates. Though he was peeved, he felt slightly cathartic, allowing his wrath to bubble to the surface was much needed relief.
Perhaps, with time, he could forget all about everyone from Hogwarts, and just move on to being distant acquaintances. A girl wasn't worth all this anguish, right? Right?
This thought stayed in his mind, as his mantra, for the next few days. And it worked until he opened up his letterbox on the following weekend. A bright pink invitation that caused him to almost faint.