Harry Potter belongs to JKR
Chapter 48
Draco stood like a statue as the door swung shut behind Potter and Weasley. He waited a few seconds until he was sure they'd gone, then rounded on Tracey.
"What the fuck," Draco said.
"I know!" Davis said.
"How bloody hard is it to NOT invite Aurors onto the property when they don't have a warrant?" he asked.
"I said I know!" she said.
Draco threw his hands into the air.
"Augh, I would have expected this from Pansy, but not you," Draco said as he violently ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the roots.
"What the fuck do you want me to say? I'm sorry, alright? It won't happen again," she said.
Draco took a deep breath to try and calm himself.
"It's okay, we're still in the clear, just need to be careful going forward," he said.
The situation was serious. Saint bloody Potter knew someone was selling potions and weed to muggles, and he already suspected Draco. Not that there were any clear Statute violations, but the DMLE could definitely make his life far more complicated than he preferred.
"They need me though," Draco thought as he considered the enchanted knut sitting on his worktable, "not that I'll be helping his arse out any time soon though, not until there's something in it for me."
"I need to take care of something. Make sure we have enough cash for the rest of the month before you knock off for the day," Draco said.
Tracey nodded and Draco departed through the front door. He scanned both directions, then made his way through the miserable drizzle to the Leaky Cauldron. As was his habit now, he peered out the window to make sure nobody was watching before he exited into muggle London, then stepped into the late afternoon foot traffic and checked his phone. It was Bruno who had tried to call him; Draco called him back.
"Hey," the boxer said as he picked up, "you going to be at the flat later?"
"I'm on my way now," Draco replied, "why?"
"I'll meet you there," Bruno replied, then he hung up. Of course, he didn't say whether it was good news or bad news. After his near-death incident, Draco was always wary around the enforcer, even if Bruno McKay supposedly worked for him. A little less than an hour later, Draco took the steps two at a time up to the flat to find the door already cracked open. He had his wand tucked up his sleeve just in case, and rapped his knuckles twice on the door frame as he entered the dingy apartment.
"Hey stranger," Mary said as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.
"Hey," Draco replied as he returned her affection.
Bruno and Darren sat on the stained couch, and the boxer stood up and fished a white envelope from inside his windbreaker pocket. Draco accepted it with a questioning look.
"From Baker. It's all there," Bruno said.
"Ah, good one," Draco said. Seemed the rugby player, currently in the midst of preparing for the World Cup next month, had finally made good on his debt. Draco tucked the envelope into his blazer.
Darren sniffed.
"Better hope Martin doesn't find out you had that much in your pocket and didn't give it to him," he said.
"It's not like I'm gonna bloody tell him, is it," Bruno said, a warning in his voice.
Darren rolled his eyes.
"Normally I'd say no, but that was before you decided be a chimp and NOT go down when you were supposed to, so these days, I couldn't really say for sure," Darren said.
Bruno gave a small grumble.
"Are you still on about that?" he asked.
Draco coughed politely.
"What did Martin actually say?" Draco asked.
"Gotta pay everything back, with interest," Bruno said, "don't worry, I can handle it."
"That seems awfully charitable of Martin, considering he'd been about to have me murdered for far less. The O'Donnells held Bruno's father in high esteem though, perhaps that has something to do with it," Draco thought.
"Hmm, alright," Draco said. He considered offering to help, but figured Bruno would ask if he needed it, "Listen, while you're all here, I should let you know, I'm going to be travelling soon."
"Oh yeah? For how long?" Darren asked.
"A little over a week, maybe a fortnight," Draco said, "I'll make sure there's a shipment before I go so we don't run out while I'm away."
"Where are you going?" Mary asked.
"Germany and Italy. We're going to be selling pretty much everywhere in Britain and Ireland by the end of the year, so if we want to keep expanding, we need to open up new markets," Draco said, "I dunno, we'll see how it goes."
Mary's eyes lit up as he mentioned Italy.
"Sounds amazing, can I come with?" she asked.
Draco frowned. He wouldn't be able to bring her around Blaise and Daphne's families, though, bringing her to Europe, or more specifically to the property on the French Riviera, did sound like it could be promising.
"It's not going to be fun. I'm going there to work," Draco said, "besides, don't you have classes?"
Mary pouted and folded her arms.
"I can revise while I'm there, while you're at your meetings or whatever," she said.
Draco smirked.
"Why don't we go next time you have a break from school?" Draco asked, "I can schedule a trip that's not purely about business, and we can actually have a good time."
Darren muttered something to Bruno, who snickered, but the drug dealer only shrugged knowingly when Draco looked over at him.
"Try not to bang any hot Italian birds while you're there," Darren said as he wore a shit-eating grin.
Mary looked to Draco, worry creasing her forehead.
"Fuck off, bloody wanker," Draco said; he turned to Mary, "there won't be any of that, promise."
He put his arm around her shoulder and steered her towards the door.
"I'll be back before you know it. Let's head out for dinner tonight, spend some time together before I go," Draco said, then he glanced over his shoulder, "and get away from these arseholes before they make my life even more difficult."
Darren and Bruno shared a good laugh at his expense as Mary slipped her ballet flats on and they exited into the stairwell.
"Don't listen to him, he's just taking the piss," Draco said as he closed the door behind them.
Mary stayed quiet until they reached the street. The rain had stopped, but the roads still glistened in the headlights of passing cars.
"I know, I just get… what's the word? Insecure, sometimes, because you know, you're rich again, and I'm just some random… midget orphan with no arse and mosquito bite tits," she said.
"What the… where did that come from?" Draco thought, "she's always been super confident."
"Your arse isn't so bad," Draco said with a chuckle, but then he noted her posture, arms crossed over her black t-shirt, looking down at the road… he stuck his hands in his pockets and lightly nudged her with his hip.
"Look, for what it's worth, you knew me when I was at the end of my rope, and you didn't care," Draco said, "I mean… you just... liked me, even though I was coming apart at the seams."
"Great," Mary said bitterly.
"It is great," Draco said, "… you don't understand. My whole life, people have been hanging on to me because of my name, or my family's wealth, or influence."
"If you're trying to make me feel better about myself, you're utter shite at it," Mary said.
Draco laughed.
"Right, okay, but the point is, you're the first person I've met who likes me for who I am, and not any of that other stuff," Draco said, "I mean, who else made me a birthday present like what you did, or bought me a cake, or took random walks around the city answering my idiotic questions? No one, only you."
Mary was still pouting, though Draco felt like he was getting through to her a bit.
"And I like your body exactly the way it is," he said, "though, not right now, because you're wearing clothes, we'll have to rectify that later."
Now she tried to suppress a smirk, and Draco exulted in his victory.
"Oh we will, will we?" she asked as she arched an eyebrow.
Draco nodded severely.
"Yes, at least two, perhaps three times," Draco said, "I've half a mind to carry you back to the flat now, except that I'm famished."
"Well, I'm hungry too," Mary said, and she stopped to give him a seductive wink and a playful grin. Draco leaned over to kiss her in the middle of the path and she stopped to wrap her arms about his neck, to the annoyance of the other pedestrians trying to walk around them.
Draco didn't care.
He pressed the button on the lift for the Ministry offices. Winthrop's secretary had penned a letter requesting his presence, and although he was insanely busy with researching the next version of the mobile phone pouches and brewing potions to feed the ever-growing demand from the muggle dealers, he couldn't exactly refuse.
"Besides, if he wants something, maybe I can get the reparations or Mother's sentence reduced," he thought.
"Mr. Malfoy," blonde Daisy Vane, former Head Girl said as he crossed the threshold and approached her desk, his cane thunking on the carpet every alternate step.
She made a motion with her hand.
"The Minister is expecting you," she said as she watched him carefully.
Draco approached the closed door and raised his hand to knock, but paused when he heard a raised voice from inside.
"-tend to finish what we started, before you lost your way," Winthrop said, and then he paused, and continued much quieter so Draco had to strain to hear, "we'll avoid as much as we can of course, but it's-"
A pale hand with perfectly manicured white fingernails appeared next to his and rapped twice on the door. Draco looked to his right to see Daisy staring towards the door.
"He's always on floo calls, but if he wanted to not be disturbed, he would have told me first," she said as she turned to him, "go on in."
Draco nodded and pushed the heavy door open to see Winthrop walking towards his desk from the fireplace. The Minister withdrew his hand from his pocket to extend towards the pureblood.
"Come in, come in, Mr. Malfoy," he said, "Daisy, see that we're not disturbed."
"Of course, Minister," she said, then quietly backed out and closed the door.
"Have a seat," Winthrop said, "my sources tell me you're a busy man these days, so I won't take up any more of your time than absolutely necessary. I trust that whatever we discuss within these walls will remain confidential?"
Draco nodded.
"Of course, Minister," he asked, and waited for the man to raise his request.
Winthrop sat down and steepled his fingers.
"It has not yet been announced, but there will soon be a vote on whether we should open the Wizengamot to select beings," Winthrop said, "I wanted to gauge your openness to such a proposal."
Draco paused.
"Let's cut to the chase, you want my vote in favour," he said.
Winthrop smiled.
"And Mr. Nott's," he replied.
"And why in Merlin's name would I want to see beings on the Wizengamot?" Draco asked.
"Aside from the fact that they are governed by laws passed by us?" Winthrop asked with a smile; he clearly knew that was the farthest thing from Draco's mind.
"I honestly do not see how that's any concern of mine," Draco replied.
"Hmm. Consider this then: given your family's history, I thought this might be the perfect opportunity for you to show, with action, that you are not your father, and his allegiances are not yours," Winthrop said, "it might go some way in restoring the Malfoy name."
Draco folded his hands on his lap.
"You're going to have to do better than that," Draco said, "Wizengamot votes are not exactly easy to come by."
"I am open to suggestions," Winthrop said as he opened his hands. Draco paused, as if considering his next words.
"I honestly do not care one way or the other if beings sit on the Wizengamot," Draco said, "My focus is on eliminating the egregiously crippling reparations that have been levied on my family, and ending my mother's house arrest."
The Minister paused for a second, then shook his head.
"I'm sorry, it can't be done," Winthrop said, "the budget is tight as it is, and my administration needs to appear tough on crime. Commuting the sentence of Lady Malfoy, whose husband was part of You-Know-Who's inner circle, and who hosted him in her home for months, would be counter-productive."
"In other words, he'd lose more votes by doing that than he'd gain from me and possibly Theo," Draco thought.
"There must be something else," Winthrop added.
Draco eyed the Hogwarts professor turned Minister of Magic, and suddenly something crazy aunt Bella said occurred to him.
"Move the fall ball to Malfoy Manor," Draco said.
Winthrop raised an eyebrow.
"I don't think a fall ball has been scheduled for this year," Winthrop replied, "budget constraints."
Draco paused.
"Do I really want to do this?" he thought, "I'll have to temporarily block off portions of the grounds and Manor, but that won't be a problem for even a semi-competent ward specialist. It'll give Mother something to do, and improve my standing in wizarding society at the same time."
"Well, that's my price, hold a Ministry sanctioned traditional fall ball at Malfoy Manor," Draco said as he folded his arms, "but feel free expand it to include muggleborns. We aren't blood supremacists you know."
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. Winthrop's point did have merit, after all. He did need to rebuild his family's reputation, so why let a good idea go to waste?
The Minister made a helpless gesture.
"As I said, there isn't budget to fund a ball-" Winthrop said.
"I'll cover half the cost, and it would be a good way for your administration to celebrate its successes thus far," Draco said.
"If I can rebuild my reputation enough to secure one or two business deals, depending on how big they are, fronting the cost of a ball would be well worth it," Draco thought, "plus, then it'll be obvious where the galleons are coming from and I won't have the Ministry sniffing around as much."
"I see," Winthrop said, and he considered his next words, "And.. would you be open to including beings as well?"
"Beings? Muggles are beings. Could I invite Mary?" Draco thought, "no, it's too early for that."
"Don't push it," Draco said, but Winthrop merely regarded him from behind his horn-rimmed glasses, and Draco sighed, "Which beings?"
"Goblins, veela, leprechauns, vampires, and house elves," Winthrop replied as he ticked them off on one hand.
"What the bloody hell, have all those things traipsing about the Manor? Mother will throw a fit," Draco thought, "then again… it might soften her up for when I finally introduce her to Mary. Come on Draco, a giant snake ate your professor on the dining room table, what could a few beings possibly do that hasn't already been done? Still…"
"No vampires, they're Dark creatures. And I get to approve the invite list," Draco said, "we're not going to host an army of goblins, I can tell you that. And prior to the event, we will distribute a pamphlet to all attendees on expected behaviour and dress code. That will placate the traditionalist wing and also educate the others on proper wizarding etiquette."
Winthrop considered Draco's offer for a good thirty seconds, then he appeared to come to a decision.
"Done, and you will convince Mr. Nott to vote on being appointment to the Wizengamot," Winthrop said.
"I do that, and the Ministry picks up an extra… twenty percent of the cost. And sure, some token amount, one or two each," Draco said, "but once again, no vampires."
Winthrop frowned.
"Agreed on the numbers, but no vampires? Are you sure? If we were to provide blood to them, they could come out of the shadows and become productive members of society. Look at what's happened with the werewolves," Winthrop said.
"Yeah, we're bloody inundated," Draco thought.
"They would be indebted to you," Winthrop added.
"I don't care about any of that. I'm not inviting any vampires into my home, and that's final," Draco said.
Winthrop nodded. They stood up and shook hands, and Draco considered just what he'd signed himself up for.
"At some point, you're going to have to rejoin society, and a better opportunity might not present itself for years," he thought, then wondered if he was subconsciously trying to justify an opportunity to sneak Mary into the Manor during a masquerade ball.
"Are you sure there's enough supplies to last until you return?" Draco asked.
"For the tenth time, as long as Pansy stays away from them, it'll be fine," Daphne replied. Her long blonde hair was pulled into its usual plait, and she wore a conservative dark green robe as the two of them entered the Atrium. In his pouch, Draco had stowed all of the free British pounds he'd stockpiled in two large hockey equipment bags, along with all of the muggle documents Darren had procured for him, everything he needed to invest through Wentworth. Next to the hockey bags, two full jars of floo powder sat in the potions rack. He also carried the enchanted knut Harry Potter had given him. He wasn't sure why he'd brought it; he never intended to use it.
"Better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it," Draco thought.
"We have a scheduled international portkey to Berlin?" Daphne said. The Ministry worker handed them each a slip of paper.
"Room five, departure is in ten minutes, don't be late," he said.
Draco led the way through the corridors.
"You're sure Astoria won't be there," he asked.
"She's at Hogwarts, won't be home until winter hols, relax," Daphne replied.
They arrived in porkey room five, a barren, functional cell with a single door. A raised platform in the centre, about waist height, held only a single cloth hat. The two Slytherins waited in silence.
"I hope this works out," Draco muttered.
"We'll see. My mum's uncle definitely has money, and works with muggles somehow, though I'm not sure of the specifics," she said.
A chime sounded, and the overhead globe of light brightened for a moment, then returned to a normal ambience. Draco tapped his foot. Another chime sounded, and he and Daphne stepped up to take hold of the hat. A third chime sounded, and the lights continued to blink, then suddenly Draco was flying backwards through space, as if pulled by a hook through his navel. They arrived in a similar room, though this one was made of brick instead of stone. Daphne led him out and into the German Ministry of Magic. High ceilinged and interspersed with pillared arches, transparent magical tubes, rather than lifts, delivered people up or down the inside edge of their Atrium. Stained glass windows adorned the top of the walls, colouring the sunlight which filtered in and splashed across the stone floor. Footsteps and voices echoed as wizards and witches hurried here and there.
"I'll side-along you," Daphne said as she held out her arm. Draco frowned and grabbed on with both hands, and then she apparated. A wave of nausea passed over him; he was outside, somewhere in a forest. A small wooden cabin sat several metres away, and beyond that, a trail snaked down to a lake where sunlight glittered off the water. Trees swayed in the early autumn breeze; it was beautiful now, but Draco felt it would be stunning in a few weeks when the leaves turned.
"I could bring Mary here," he thought.
"This is my uncle's cabin, he's letting us live here for the time being," she said. Draco stumbled after her and climbed the rickety wooden steps. Daphne pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Mum?" she called.
Draco followed her in; the space inside was obviously magically enhanced. Rather than a single room cabin and a fireplace, he found himself inside a spacious wizard dwelling. A sitting room complete with beige couches, overflowing bookshelves, and an empty fireplace greeted him. To his right, a faucet ran in the kitchen as charmed dishes washed themselves. Beyond that and up a half-flight of stairs, he spotted a loo and a pair of bedrooms through open doorways, and sunlight streaming in through large, open windows.
"Daphne?" Mrs. Greengrass called. The effectively widowed Greengrass matriarch, long brown hair done up in a similar French plait as her daughter, appeared from one of the bedrooms and moved quickly to Daphne, her robes swishing about her ankles; they embraced in a tight hug.
"You're looking well, how is London?" Mrs. Greengrass asked.
"It's been worse," Daphne replied.
"And Draco, it's good to see you again," Mrs. Greengrass said.
"Lady Greengrass," Draco replied. He bent low over her offered hand, lips nearly touching her knuckles.
"Is Uncle Verner here?" Daphne asked.
"He'll be over shortly," Mrs. Greengrass said, and she turned to Draco, "Daphne tells me you've rebounded quite nicely, even with the reparations the Ministry levied. I was saddened sorry to hear about your father, please convey my condolences to your mother."
"I shall," Draco replied, "and yes, despite their best efforts, business is expanding. I'm sure Daphne has told you, that's why we're here."
"Saddened about Father, sure, that's why you haven't written a single letter or visited Mother since the war," Draco thought.
Mrs. Greengrass nodded.
"Would you like some tea while we wait?" she asked, and moved to the kitchen without waiting for a response, "from what Daphne has told me, it should be easy to move what you're selling. My uncle would not front the gold though, not until he met you in person."
"That's quite all right," Draco said as he sat down on one of the couches, "if I were in his position, I'd probably want to do the same. It's not a small amount we're talking about, after all. Are you sure he has enough muggle connections to be able to move it all?"
Daphne took the seat adjacent to him and smoothed out her robes.
"I don't think that will be a problem," Mrs. Greengrass replied, "you can speak to him about it when he arrives."
As if on cue, a knock sounded on the cabin door. Daphne stood up to answer and a tall, elderly man entered. Verner Udet wore dark slacks and polished shoes, a golden belt buckle, and a professional blazer over a white button-down shirt. With deep lines on his face and a mane of thick white hair, he looked to be at least eighty or possibly even ninety. His blue eyes remained sharp though, and flicked to Draco for an instant before shifting to his great niece. Draco stood up at the attention.
"Daphne, good to see you again," he said in a moderately thick accent as she stood on tiptoe to embrace him quickly.
"Uncle Verner, this is Draco Malfoy," Daphne said.
Draco stepped forward to shake the man's hand.
"Lord Malfoy, both Daphne and Cordelia have spoken about you at length, it is good to meet you in person," he said.
"The pleasure is mine," Draco replied.
"Hello Uncle Verner," Mrs. Greengrass said as she arrived with a tea tray, complete with four cups, saucers, and a plate of biscuits.
"Cordelia," Verner said, "how is Astoria?"
"Doing well. She's in her final year at Hogwarts now," Mrs. Greengrass said.
"Good good. Very well. Mr. Malfoy, I suspect you brought something to show me," Udet said as he sat down.
"Straight to business," Draco thought.
He took the cue to retrieve a wooden cigar box from his pouch. He opened the lid to reveal several small plastic bags, and a ceramic pipe.
"There are several flavours," Draco said, "have you smoked before?"
"Tobacco pipes, in my youth," Udet replied with a smile.
"I suppose we could grow and sell tobacco, too," Draco said as he packed the pipe with mint flavoured weed, "topic for another day."
Pipe suitably topped up, he produced his Zippo and held both pipe and lighter out to the elder German. Udet took them and flicked the lighter to produce a flame, then sucked in few puffs.
"Ah, excellent," he said as he passed the pipe back. Draco took a hit and then passed it to Daphne.
"The flavour is wonderful. I will smell the others, no need to smoke too much," Udet said, "if they are anything like that one, then we have a deal."
"Excellent," Draco said, "how much were you thinking to start off?"
"Oh, say… perhaps five hundred grams," Udet said.
Draco paused.
"This isn't some minor operation," Draco said, "Daphne said you had muggle connections, but we're talking about enough to supply the entire country, eventually," Draco said, "are your connections deep enough for that?"
Udet raised an eyebrow, then leaned back in his seat and stroked his chin in thought.
"I have connections. Cordelia can explain about how I work with muggles. Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, do you work with them?" Udet asked.
Draco weighed his response carefully.
"I do, but not in Germany," he replied.
"And this is where I come in, I see, I see," Udet said thoughtfully, "well, I have the gold, and you have the product. We will start small and then grow. Let us agree on a price to start, and go from there."
They haggled for a bit and arrived on a number that Draco felt was more than equitable. Draco extended a hand to shake, but as he grasped the man's firm grip, he couldn't help but feel like there was something else going on, some ulterior motive Udet had.
The German produced a small keg from an extendable pouch. Daphne retrieved four large glasses, and Udet tapped the keg and filled each of the four mugs, a perfect foam head topping each one. He lifted his up and the four clinked together. Draco took a large sip; distinctly different from what he'd previously drank in England, he found he much preferred the German beer.
"I look forward to doing business with you," Udet said, and then he was gone, cigar box tucked against his side, out the front door to apparate away.
"That was odd. I didn't expect it to be that easy," Draco said as he closed the door.
"He's direct that way," Daphne said as she puffed away, her eyes already bloodshot, "don't worry, he's good for the money."
Draco sat down. The money was one thing, but he wanted to know more about Daphne's mysterious family member and how he planned to move the weed Draco wanted to distribute.
"What exactly is he involved in?" Draco asked. Daphne made a lazy motion towards her mother, who took a sip of beer.
"You never pay attention, probably why you had to go work for your classmate," she said. Daphne rolled her eyes and moved to the kitchen as her mother turned to Draco, "As you're probably aware, after the muggle war ended around the time of Grindewald's defeat, muggle Germany was split in two."
Draco was, in fact, not aware.
"What? Why?" he asked. Mrs. Greengrass pursed her lips in annoyance at being interrupted, and then she continued speaking.
"They're muggles, who knows. Anyway, about a decade ago, they reunified, but the Eastern portion of the country, where we currently reside, had neglected their muggle infrastructure," Mrs. Greengrass said, "the West initiated all sorts of projects to catch them up. Many of them can be completed with magic, and far easier than muggles could on their own."
It took a moment for what Daphne's mum was saying to connect in his brain, but when it did, Draco's hand flew to his mouth and his eyes widened as the full implications dawned. The scale of muggle skyscrapers, roads, stadiums, the Underground, all the things he'd seen in his time living among them, dwarfed the paltry potions and marijuana he was currently selling to them.
"You even thought it yourself," Draco thought, "it probably takes scores of muggles a week to do what a single wizard could do in a day! Obviously those scores of muggles would be getting paid, idiot!"
He kicked himself for not seeing the opportunity sooner.
"Hang on, hang on," he said, his mind swimming with possibilities, "how does he get around the Statute?"
"Umm, as I understand it, he uses muggleborn go-betweens and shell companies to take delivery of the raw materials, and then the roads are built with magic?" Mrs. Greengrass replied, though it was clear she did not have a deep understanding of the inner workings of Udet's organisation.
"But muggle governments track income and revenues and things like that, they'd have to fake paying their workers… unless their workers are also fake and all the money is funnelled into wizard bank accounts?" Draco said.
"How in Merlin's name…? I need to learn how this works," he thought.
"How long has he been doing this?" he asked.
"At least since the Battle," Daphne said as she returned with another pipe and started to pack it with Draco's weed, "we moved right after, and he was already involved."
"Though it was a good six months before he mentioned anything," Mrs. Greengrass added.
"Obviously," Draco thought, "he doesn't exactly want to advertise to the entire world. Maybe after we've completed a few purchases, I can ask more…"
Daphne and Mrs. Greengrass set about preparing lunch, Daphne sneaking hits in between chopping and stirring. In the meantime, Draco got started creating a floo link between the fireplace in the cabin and an unused one in Malfoy Manor. Having enchanted three of them already, he thought it would be quicker, but perhaps due to the distance, it took longer than expected. It was well after midnight when a garbled note came through, mostly in Mother's handwriting.
"Iahpsivfter midnighta snhgidng to bed"
"Bugger. Should have brought the book with the schematics from the Manor. Now if I want to get it, it's another two international porkeys. Well, there's always tomorrow morning, and next week," Draco thought.
Daphne had already wandered off to her room, and Mrs. Greengrass yawned.
"Feel free to stay the night, Draco," she said as she set the dishes in the sink to wash, "Astoria's room is free."
She had laid out a pillow and blankets for him to use on the single bed. As much as Draco wanted to use the floo to return home this evening and try to sneak some time in with Mary, it looked like he was stuck in Germany for now, and he might as well as take advantage of Mrs. Greengrass' hospitality. As he unfolded the blanket and fluffed the pillow, the possibility occurred to him that Cordelia Greengrass might be considering re-negotiating a match with him, now that his fortunes had turned.
"Fuck her. No way I'm going to let her come crawling back after what she broke the betrothal with Astoria," he thought, "plus I need to settle the Mary situation first…"
The image of smug Terry boot filled his mind's eye and his lip curled in a sneer as he set a blindfold over his eyes to sleep.
The next morning saw no progress with the floo. Frustration built as the time for his international portkey approached, and he left the project unfinished. He would have to return and complete it later if he was going to make good on his promise to Verner Udet.
Draco apparated back to the German Ministry on his own; Daphne stayed with her mum for the time being. He arrived with minutes to spare, and once again, he was the only one traveling at his time slot. Draco appeared in the Italian Ministry, and as soon as he exited the portkey room, the difference in architecture struck him. Instead of stone, tiles adorned the floors, and fountains splashed water at regular intervals in the atrium, while natural sunlight streamed in from open windows. Sculptures carved directly out of the walls depicted the glory of the heyday of Wizarding Rome. The weather was warmer as well, and Draco cast a cooling charm as he approached a marble public floo, one with sculpted roaring lions at either end.
"Zabini patio," he said, and vanished into the green fire. His journey stuttered for an instant until the wards let him pass, and his feet landed on the off-white marble flagstones of the Zabini residence outdoor fireplace. Wide reclining seats surrounded the low coffee table in front of him. To his left, large gentle arches opened two sides of the patio to morning light, as the sun rose above rolling hills in the distance. The high wooden ceiling sloped slightly with the curve of the arch, and Draco expected this would be a pleasant place to enjoy afternoon tea. To his right, a heavy wooden door lead into the villa proper. A house elf wearing what looked like a tunic made of leaves and twigs appeared with a pop.
"Master Zabini is expecting you sir, can Mizzy take your cane?" the elf asked.
"No, thank you. Inform Blaise that I've arrived," Draco replied.
"No need, he already knows," Blaise said as he exited the house proper. The darker skinned Slytherin stepped down the carved stone step and walked over to Draco. He looked like he'd just woken up, shirtless and wearing only green satin or silk pyjama bottoms.
"Bloody hell, I know it's your house and all but maybe put some clothes on when I'm due for a visit," Draco said as he noted Blaise's abs were notably more defined than his own.
"Sorry, late night," Blaise said with a stifled yawn, "you're looking better than I expected; I heard you went through some shite."
They shook hands and Draco clapped his darker-skinned friend on the shoulder.
"Mate, you have no idea," Draco said.
"Come on in, you can tell me all about it," Blaise said as he steered Draco towards the house, "Mizzy, breakfast."
The house elf bowed and vanished with a pop. Draco followed Blaise into the villa. Cream coloured stone, a wide-open, high-ceilinged entryway, curving staircase with chandelier above, the residence spoke of luxury and opulence, but in a far different nature than Malfoy Manor. Natural light flooded the dwelling, and potted plants spruced up the décor as they hung from the wall or rested on stone plinths. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves; the layout allowed both natural light and wind in.
Blaise wordlessly led Draco through a partially open sliding door and into a sitting room. The entire wall had been rolled back and the morning sun bathed half the floor in golden light.
"Fuck that's bright," Blaise said as he squinted, "Mizzy, close the wall."
The house elf appeared with a pop and leaned back, as if tugging on an invisible rope. The wall slid closed from left to right, complete with a pair of windows, unrolling as if from a spool, then Mizzy vanished again.
"By the way, I'm not sure if he'll show for breakfast, but Theo is here," Blaise said.
"Oh? If I'd known I would have scheduled around it," Draco said.
"Ah. Well, seems I might have mentioned to him you were coming to visit, and he sort of showed up, as he does," Blaise said, "he wants to bring us to a party in Rome. Actually, more specifically, he wants me to bring the two of you to a party in Rome."
Blaise rolled his eyes.
"Mmmm," Draco said.
"It's up to you," Blaise said, "he had fun last time, but I know you're here to see Mother, really, so…"
"Whoa whoa, it's not like that," Draco said, "you said she had muggle connections and-"
"Relax, I'm just taking the piss," Blaise said with a grin, "let me get changed."
Draco poured himself a glass and walked to the window. The picturesque view of the Italian town spread out below him like a map, with farmland or vineyards in the distance, and hills beyond, calmed his nerves.
"It's truly beautiful here, unlike London," he thought.
Perhaps he could introduce Mary to Blaise. Less chance of them running into too many people he knew all the way out here, and he already interacted with muggles, to some extent anyway. His mind wandered down how he might be able to make it work, who he should introduce her to first.
"No matter how I do it, it's going to be a risk, but could it actually work?" he thought, "if we bought a house elf, she could rely on it to handle pretty much anything a normal witch would be able to do with a wand. Not like we're going to be fighting Death Eaters or anything…"
His mind wandered down the paths of how he could introduce Mary to his world without causing everything to blow up in his face. He still had not come to any conclusions when he heard footsteps coming down the staircase. Blaise returned, this time dressed in dark slacks and a charcoal grey button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. As he sat down at the table, Mizzy appeared and set a plate of breads and assorted sliced cakes, another with jams and other spreads, and a third with two cups of coffee; Draco joined Blaise at the table and inhaled the scent of the rich brew.
"Right, now that I feel human again, what exactly have you been doing this past year?" Blaise asked, "Theo gave me the abridged version, but he was drunk and I get the feeling he left out some important bits."
Draco took a deep breath and started in the aftermath of the Battle, his trial, Father's imprisonment and the reparations the Ministry imposed, and then his sentence. He left out anything to do with Mary, of course, and was deliberately vague about how he was working with the muggles.
"Nobody in Britain would even talk to me, I had no choice," he said.
Blaise shrugged.
"Yeah, I get it," he said, "there are a few blokes I play footie with from time to time who have no idea. Drinks occasionally, too."
Before Draco had the chance to ask just exactly how deep Blaise's relationship with the muggles went, Theo shuffled into the sitting room. Unshaven, hair and clothing rumpled, he looked like he had literally rolled out of bed and accidentally happened upon them.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Blaise said, even though it was closer to lunch and the sun had long since stopped shining into the sitting room.
The pureblood grunted and started munching on a pastry.
"Was a hell of a night," he said around the sweet bread. Mizzy appeared and set a third cup of coffee on the table, which Theo picked up and took a sip.
"Hangover potion," he said, and the house elf vanished, then returned with a pop a second later. Theo guzzled it and blinked a few times, then looked at Draco.
"Why didn't you tell me you were visiting?" he asked.
"First, because it's not any of your business, but mostly because I'm not here for… whatever in Merlin's name you were up to last night," Draco replied.
"Ahh, that's because you don't know what you're missing," Theo said as he held up a finger. Blaise watched the conversation with a bored expression.
"I don't care, Theo. I'm here to make money," Draco said.
"Pff, boring," Theo said, "come out with us tonight. I'll introduce you to some interesting mates, and you can cut some deals with them."
Blaise cleared his throat.
"We can talk about this at lunch. It's getting late, and I want to eat in town today," he said, then turned to Theo, "go wash up and we should still be able to make it before they close for the afternoon."
"The town closes?" Draco asked as Theo grumbled.
"The restaurant I have in mind, between lunch and dinner," Blaise replied. Theo picked up another muffin and stuffed in his mouth as he stumbled back the way he came.
"Did you bring muggle clothes?" Blaise asked.
Draco nodded.
"Good, no shorts," Blaise said, and Draco gave him a withering stare. Zabini held his hands up.
"Those are the rules," he said.
Fifteen minutes later, Theo had showered, shaved, and changed. All three of them wore dark slacks, and while Theo and Draco both wore white button downs, Theo was able to roll his sleeves up similar to Blaise, but Draco was forced to keep his down to cover the faded Dark Mark tattoo. Blaise led the way back to the covered patio where Draco had arrived, but this time someone occupied one of the lounge chairs. Blaise's mum angled her book slightly and glanced up at them with dark eyes. Draco had only seen her a few times, but she seemed much more in her element now, stretched out on the chaise lounge, full breasts threatening to spill out of the low scoop of her dress.
"Madam Zabini," Draco said with a barely perceptible bow.
"Please, call me Leana. Where are you headed?" she asked.
"Late lunch in town, obviously," Blaise replied as he crossed the stones.
She looked over the three of them, then placed a bookmark, set the book on the table, and stood up. Her sleeveless, flowing, dark purple dress fell almost to her ankles as she slipped into a pair of sandals left beneath the chair. A wide-brimmed hat affixed on her head was next, followed by a pair of muggle sunglasses.
"Let's go," she said.
Blaise didn't seem to think anything of his mum accompanying himself and two mates for lunch, so Draco didn't say anything. The Mediterranean sun kept them warm as they descended the winding road to town, and she chatted about the food and the weather and how glad she was Blaise was back home for good. She seemed much less like a mum, and more like a friend, a relationship Draco found extremely odd.
"This is a woman who has gone through seven husbands," Draco thought as she laughed while they strolled, "wonder if she's slept with any muggles…"
Theo seemed equally reserved; his friend might be a playboy, but he wasn't stupid.
"I saw the news, have you reconnected with your aunt Bellatrix?" she asked.
"Briefly," Draco replied, "she's not the same. Not entirely, anyway."
"Hmm, perhaps I'll pay her a visit," Leana Zabini said, "in the summer, of course."
She chatted to Theo, who seemed more than willing to oblige her, and Draco and Blaise fell behind a bit.
"What's going on there?" Draco asked.
Blaise frowned.
"Theo's being a prat and mum is being her usual self," Blaise said, "it's my bloody mum, he knows she's off limits… and if he forgets, well, he'll get exactly what he deserves."
Blaise sent him a sidelong glance and a smirk, and Draco suppressed a shudder.
"Seven husbands," he thought.
They passed several homes on their way to the valley, and then a vineyard, eventually arriving at an old piazza. The fountain in the centre spewed crystal-clear water into a pool, and Blaise led them to a restaurant set in one corner of the square. The sun had already started sliding towards the western horizon, and they barely made the last order for lunch. Their table sat adjacent to the courtyard and several of the elderly muggle townsfolk gave them passing glances, but nobody bothered them.
The wine arrived first, a semi-dry white Draco was unfamiliar with, and the waiter poured a glass for each of them.
"Salut," Blaise said as he held up a glass. Everyone else responded in kind, and then they toasted and drank. The bread arrived, and then fish, eggplant, pasta, and fresh pizza with some of the best tangy tomato sauce Draco had ever tasted. They split two bottles of wine, and Theo regaled them with the story about how he'd ended up in the wrong villa on his last trip and scared some poor muggle half to death. It might have been the wine, or the fact he was currently far from the Ministry's jurisdiction, but Draco laughed out loud with the others, and for a few precious moments it was almost like they were back in school again.
It wasn't long after that though that Theo started pestering Blaise to accompany him to Rome for some more partying.
"You should come too, look like you could use a good therapy session," Theo said.
"I can't, I've got to talk to Madam Zabini about a few things," Draco said.
Theo alternated glances between Draco and Blaise's mum, who smiled demurely and crossed her long legs beneath the table.
"There something I should know?" Theo asked Blaise.
"It's business, you'll be bored to tears," Blaise said, "come on, the two of us can head there directly, leave them to do what they need to do."
The darker skinned Slytherin stood to pull out a leather wallet, and left several bills on the table as Draco drained his glass. Theo spared them a glance over his shoulder as Blaise led him away, probably to a floo fireplace somewhere in town, leaving Draco alone with Leana Zabini.
"Shall we retire to the villa?" she asked. Draco nodded and they began the trek back. The sun dipped low in the sky by the time they returned, and a stiff breeze blew; she held on to her hat to keep it from blowing away.
"I think we can sit outside this evening," she said as they climbed the last few steps, "the view at sunset is magnificent, and the muggles won't see a thing."
Draco assumed she must have notice-me-nots and muggle repelling wards up. Leana motioned for Draco to have a seat on one of the lounges.
"Mizzy," she said and the elf appeared with a pop.
"Madam returns?" it said.
"Bring us a selection of spirits," she said.
"Right away Madam," the house elf said. It vanished and Blaise's mum sat down on a lounge chair adjacent to Draco and smiled at him while they waited. Mizzy returned with a pop, bearing a tray with a quartet of bottles of amber coloured liquor inside.
"This one, I think would be magnificent," Leana said as she pointed and her eyes flicked to meet Draco's through long eyelashes, "aged eighteen years."
"Fuck," Draco thought, feeling very much like a fly caught in a spider's web.
Mizzy bowed, vanished, then reappeared with a pair of squat glasses and a bucket full of ice, left them on the low table, and vanished again. Leana Zabini opened the bottle with a 'plunk' of the cork releasing, leaned over to pour, and Draco's eyes ever so briefly flicked to her ample cleavage.
"She's doing that on purpose," he thought as his mind wandered down the dark alley of what his friend's mum would look like with her flowing dress puddled at her feet.
"You're seeing Mary, prat," he thought.
If Draco had to guess, she was some mix of Romani and Italian, all experience, confidence, voluptuous curves and an exotic, dusky brown complexion. Despite the fact that she must have been nearly fifty, she didn't look a day over thirty-three.
"Cheers," she said, and they clinked glasses. The firewhiskey burned as it slid down his throat, and the older woman slipped out of her sandals to fold one foot beneath her, leaving the other to sway in mid-air, just off the marble floor.
"So, tell me about this business proposition," she said as she swirled her glass.
Draco set his glass down to focus on the conversation.
"Blaise told me you have some muggle connections, that you might be able to use it to distribute goods to them," Draco said.
"I might know someone who knows someone," she said, "what are you distributing?"
"It's marijuana, you're familiar with it?" Draco asked, and Leana stopped swirling her glass to look at him as if he were a moron.
"Right. What I'm doing is infusing it with flavours, like bertie botts. The muggles can't make anything like it, there are a lot of them, and they have money to spend," Draco said.
"How much?" Leana asked.
"I can get it to you for… a hundred galleons per kilo," Draco said.
She hmm'd into her glass.
"Did you bring a sample?" she asked.
"Of course," Draco replied. He unwound the drawstring from his pouch and withdrew another cigar box filled with small, labelled plastic baggies and another ceramic pipe. He packed it carefully with an apple flavoured sample, lit it, and passed the pipe to her. She took a long puff and breathed deeply.
"Oh, it has been a very long time," she said, smoke puffing from her mouth and nose as she spoke.
"How is the flavour?" Draco asked.
"Not bad," she said, "do you have any others?"
Draco nodded and tapped out the pipe to pack it again, and soon he was smoking as well. The sun dropped to the horizon and then lower, and the glow of the fireplace replaced the glow of twilight. Mizzy brought snacks for them as the munchies hit; the box contained enough weed to keep them going through the night if necessary. He leaned forward to pour himself another glass and as he looked over to Leana to ask if she wanted another, he froze as he spotted the top of one brown areola slipped free from her dress as she lounged on the chair.
Of course, she looked up at him right at that instant, and he tried to play it off.
"Another glass?" he asked.
"Perhaps you should have gone with Blaise and Theo to Rome," she said a small smile as she adjusted the strap of her dress to set it back in place.
"Ah, no, I have a girlfriend," he said.
"Oh really," she said. Something in her tone of voice indicated she didn't believe him… either that or she didn't care.
"Oh, shit, don't tell Blaise and Theo, they don't know yet," Draco said.
"Mmm," she said as she regarded him over the top of her glass.
"It's getting late," Draco said, "what do you think about my offer?"
"Which?" Leana asked.
"The weed," Draco replied.
"No," Leana replied.
Apparently flirtation was in her nature, except when it came to business and money.
"Pardon?" Draco said.
"Actually, I should say, I'm not interested yet," Leana replied, "why don't you stay the night and let me sleep on it, Lord Malfoy."
She stood up and leaned over to set her glass on the table, and Draco's cock twitched as her breasts nearly fell free in front of his face.
"If you need anything, my room is at the end of the hall," she said quietly, then walked on bare feet back to the villa, dress flirting with her ankles.
Draco practically felt a fishing rod yanking him to follow her swaying hips and forced himself to lay flat on the chaise lounge.
"Remember Mary. And remember, seven husbands," Draco thought, and he downed the rest of his glass, "can't head up to her bedroom if you can't walk."
Draco stubbornly watched the ceiling spin above him and tried to pass out. He must have succeeded at some point because the next thing he knew, he woke up to someone shaking him by the shoulder. Lids scraped over eyeballs as he forced them open to see Theo in the pre-dawn gloom.
"The fuck happened to you?" he asked.
Draco sat up and ran his hand through his hair, and it came away wet with dew.
"Nothing, talking business with Blaise's mum last night," Draco replied. He glanced around to see the man himself standing a short distance away, by the fireplace, arms folded as he waited for Theo.
"I'm in," Theo said.
"I'm sorry, what?" Draco asked.
"Blaise told me about what you're doing, this is what you were trying to hire me for earlier, isn't it," Theo said, "I'm in."
"You're still bloody drunk," Draco said as he tried to will his headache away, "Blaise's mum said she wants to think about it for a day."
"She can think about it all she wants, he's willing to distribute, and I'll bankroll it, we're going to split the profit," Theo said.
Draco looked over at Blaise, who gave him a small nod. Draco looked back to Theo.
"No," Draco said.
"What do you mean no?" Theo replied.
"I mean no, not until you do something for me first," Draco said, "I need your vote on some legislation coming up. They-"
"Fine whatever," Theo said with a dismissive wave.
"That was easy," Draco thought. He yawned.
"Okay… okay good, let me talk to her first though," Draco said.
"You do that, I'm going to bed," Theo said, "you bloody missed out, tell you all about it tomorrow."
"It is tomorrow," Draco said to Theo's back, but the other pureblood ignored him.
Draco turned to Blaise, who hadn't moved.
"Are you sure you know what you're getting into?" Draco asked. The meaning was clear; Theo was not entering the arrangement as a friend or partner, but as a business opportunity, and would treat it as such.
"Not everyone's as paranoid as you, mate," Blaise replied, "besides, he doesn't know anyone here, what's he going to do? He'll want his cut, and that'll be that."
"What about your mum?" Draco asked, "I offered it to her first."
"Me, her, doesn't much matter, we're family," Blaise said.
"Family first," they said in unison.
"Besides, I'm not completely in the dark. Word gets around. I know you're making a fortune on this, and I want in," Blaise said as he approached the table and took a swig directly from the bottle.
Warning bells went off in Draco's head as Blaise looked at the label and pulled a face.
"What do you mean, what have you heard?" Draco asked.
"Relax. Just that there's a new weed all the rage in Britain. Combine that with your offer and…" he said with a shrug.
They paused as birds chirped all around them as the world slowly woke up.
"I need to crash too, Theo's a bloody maniac," Blaise said.
"Why, what happened?" Draco asked.
"Nothing, I'll tell you next time," Blaise said as he set the bottle down and walked towards the house, "you can have the room above the staircase, it's more comfortable than the patio."
Draco sighed, scrubbed his face with his palms, then packed up what remained of the weed and tucked it back into the cigar box. He went to leave it in the sitting room only to find Blaise's mum already up and nursing a coffee, wearing only a deep violet satin bathrobe.
"Morning," she said, "Mizzy, another coffee."
Draco accepted the cup, and the house elf vanished again. If she was at all disappointed he had declined the previous night's offer, she didn't show it.
"After careful consideration in the light of day, I think I will pass," she said, "I don't think it will be worth the hassle."
"That's unfortunate… but I think you should speak to Blaise. He's decided he's going to distribute," Draco said, and he continued to talk as Leana's eyes flashed dangerously, "I didn't pitch him, he came to me."
She considered it for a moment.
"He doesn't have the capital for something like that," Leana said.
"Theo's going to front," Draco said.
"Hmm," she said as she stared off into the distance in thought, then she stood up.
"Seems we are partners after all, Draco Malfoy," she said as she held out a perfectly manicured hand. Draco took it with a firm shake and nodded.
"I hope you'll stay for lunch, we can eat on the patio," she said. Draco felt he had no choice but to accept, despite his portkey scheduled for early that afternoon. He floo called the Italian Ministry to reschedule for later in the day, which would delay his visit to the goblins of Zurich until tomorrow as the banks would have closed, but he figured he could use the time to try and set up a floo link with Malfoy Manor. Mizzy opened the rear wall again and moved the table out to the flagstone rear patio. While the weather in Britain had already chilled significantly, here, the Southern Italian sun still shone brightly, warming his skin and lifting his spirits. The four of them split another bottle of wine with lunch, this one a fruity red. Theo, perhaps still recovering from the previous night, was subdued and Blaise didn't say much either; Draco imagined there would be a very interesting conversation between him and his mum once he departed.
After lunch, Draco got to work on the floo, utilising an unconnected fireplace on the ground floor of the villa. After an hour of waiting for Mother to realise he'd begun, he started enchanting. Unfortunately, just as in Germany, he ran out of time with his efforts having only met with marginal success; it would take another trip to sort out what was wrong.
"I'll be back to finish this off," Draco said as he shook Blaise's hand, "and we'll catch up properly then, too."
Draco wanted to further explore just how close Blaise was to the muggles of Italy; if he was going to come clean about his relationship with Mary, his dark-skinned friend might the best choice to be the first. Theo was nowhere to be found, but he glanced over his shoulder to see Lady Zabini standing at the door with a small smile on her lips. She gave him a small wave goodbye and Draco returned the gesture, then tossed the floo powder.
"Ministry of Magic," he said, and with a burst of green fire, he appeared back at the Italian Ministry. He had only visited the goblins of Zurich once, when he was a boy, before he started Hogwarts, and he hadn't really paid much attention. After finding his international portkey to Switzerland, he wandered the underground halls of the Swiss Ministry as wizards and witches hustled to and fro. He didn't want to ask for directions; the less people who knew what he was up to in Zurich, the better. Eventually, he found an exit and stumbled out of a non-descript door into a crowded railway station. Escalators ferried muggles up and down, and several trains sat at platforms to his right, while others were vacant. A large, glowing clock above a bank of payphones showed the current time, and Draco glanced around, disoriented at the sudden shift.
"Exgusi," a voice said, and Draco reflexively stepped back as a porter of some kind pushed a cart past, "bitte!"
He took a minute to get his bearings; it wouldn't do to not be able to find his way back to the Ministry entrance. He started walking. A sign proclaiming Bahnhofstrasse caught his attention, and thinking it sounded somehow familiar, he followed it out to the street. Unlike Italy, the sky here was an overcast grey, and it looked like drizzle was on the way. Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking. He thought the upscale shops, eateries and occasional white cross on red Swiss flags looked vaguely familiar, then he reached a bend in the road and entered a plaza that doubled as a sort of interchange for trolleys. The sense of familiarity continued, and he turned towards the open space, but it wasn't until he spotted the sign at a bus stop for 'Paradeplatz' that a solid memory came to him.
"These two muggle banks are wizard founded," Father said as he motioned with his snake-headed cane towards the two blocky stone structures set adjacent to one another, "they started a muggle legend that there is gold buried beneath the land between them. Of course, none of them know how right they are."
Father held his hand as he led him through the sunny road to the small kiosk. He pressed a few buttons, and Draco felt himself sucked backwards through the navel to appear inside a bank that looked eerily similar to Gringotts.
"Phone box… phone box…" Draco thought as he hunted around the square. Trolleys and busses moving about the edges obscured his view as Draco made a full circuit. The two muggle banks still stood, pillared designs around glass windows and oblivious muggles walking the streets alongside them. Logic told him it was these banks that Wentworth had been receiving Father's funds from, and that the goblins beneath them must have connections inside. He just needed to find the entrance. Then he spotted it, a rundown looking phone box tucked away just past the corner of a side street. A tree he didn't remember had been planted right next to it, and over the years had grown until it almost obscured the booth from view. Draco ignored the 'Außer Betrieb' sign and shoved his way into the booth, which was much tighter than he recalled. He picked up the receiver and stared at the buttons on the pay phone.
M-O-N-E-Y he tried, but nothing happened. He set the receiver down and picked it up again.
M-A-G-I-C he pressed, but still no luck.
7-7-7-7-7 – nothing.
G-O-B-L-I-N - no. He slammed the receiver down.
"You'd think they'd make it easier to do business. Fuck, I'm right there… if I were a goblin, what number would I use?" he thought.
"Gold buried…" he heard his father's voice.
G-O-L-D.
Instantly, Draco felt himself sucked backwards through the navel.
"Vorwärts gehen," a well-dressed goblin to his right motioned for him to clear the entranceway, "Bitte."
Draco took a few steps forward into the bank proper. The goblin bank smelled of oil and old parchment, exactly as he recalled. Similar to Gringotts, tellers lined both sides of a wide, open space. At the far end stood a trio of what Draco supposed were premium customer tellers, set on a raised platform. To his right, a pair of doors set into the wall marked the exit. Draco expected one of them led to the Swiss Ministry and the other back to the phone booth. A small incandescent light bulb sat above each of the doors, and both currently glowed green. Draco ignored the tellers to the right and left and marched straight to the end of the row. He stepped up to the lone occupied teller seat, where a well-dressed goblin thunked a stamp onto parchment a few times, then looked up at him.
"I may wish to open an account," Draco said, "and I have some special requirements. I need to speak to a bank representative."
"Mmm," the goblin said as he regarded Draco, "and you are?"
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he replied.
The goblin leaned back in his seat.
"Your family name is known to us. Follow me," the goblin said in German accented English.
The goblin hopped down and led Draco behind the rows of tellers, across plush carpeting and candelabra lit stone corridors, to a small meeting room. He motioned Draco inside, then closed the door behind both of them.
"My name is Ponlon, I can act as your private banker for the Goblins of Zurich," he said.
The goblin smiled a sharp-toothed grin as he extended a hand to shake, and Draco got the distinct sense the goblin was paid on commission of some kind.
"What can I do for you today, Mr. Malfoy?" Ponlon asked.
"It's Lord Malfoy now," Draco replied as he took a seat, "I've come into a sizable amount of muggle currency, and I wish to invest it with a muggle broker in London, but there are identification and other requirements making it difficult."
"I see. The Goblins of Zurich have a solution to your problem, Lord Malfoy, for a fee," Ponlon said, "there is also a minimum deposit requirement of five thousand galleons."
"I'll need to see the fee schedule," Draco said, "assuming it is acceptable, you can take the hold minimum out of the currency deposit."
"What is the amount you will be looking to transfer?" Ponlon asked.
"Approximately one and a half million pounds sterling," Draco replied, "with more to come."
"Very good Lord Malfoy," the goblin replied without flinching, "we require a blood sample to verify your identification upon return visits."
Ponlon produced a small vial, and Draco rolled up his right shirt sleeve. The goblin held the vial over the pale skin and pressed it in. With a sucking sound, the vial filled with crimson red liquid. Draco felt a slight tugging sensation on his skin as the vial was removed, with nothing but a small, red spot to show for the procedure.
"Very good," Ponlon said as he tucked the vial into a pocket of his jacket, "Do you have the currency with you?"
"Yes," Draco replied.
"Excellent. Unfortunately, the bank has closed for the day. Come back tomorrow and we will convert some to galleons to store in your vault, and hold the rest while we secure the necessary approvals from the muggle bank," the goblin said, "the procedure should take approximately three to five days. We will contact you by owl if there are any irregularities, so do not travel far."
"I'm here now, can we take care of it today?" Draco asked.
"I am afraid not; there are regulations to follow," Ponlon said.
Draco grumbled; the goblins could be sticklers for their regulations. He considered returning to Britain briefly to retrieve the book with the floo schematic, but then another thought occurred to him. Draco returned to the Ministry via the exit from the bank, then to the muggle train station again. A quick stop by an information booth and he was able to find his way by foot to a nearby motel. He checked his phone again but was still unable to send or receive any messages, or place any calls.
"Relax Draco, you can talk to her when you get back," he thought.
It took him some time to fall asleep that evening. The following morning, he checked out and returned to the Zurich Bank, where Ponlon motioned him over as soon as he entered. He led Draco to the money counting room, where Draco unshrank the large hockey bags filled with muggle bills. It took two goblins to pour the currency into a large steel contraption, which looked like gigantic cauldron balanced on two taloned bird's feet. The bills spilled into the top and came out a series of slots in the side of the machine, all stacked in neat piles. A pair of goblins picked them up and bound them with what looked like red cloth that stuck to itself, then laid them neatly side by side on a table. As they worked, Ponlon gestured for Draco to take a seat.
"This amount we will store in your vault," Ponlon said as he pointed to a figure on a piece of parchment, "the remainder will be deposited in the Swiss bank, less the fees as outlined on this schedule."
Draco looked over the crisp parchment, and noted that there was, indeed, a private banker's fee. The amount he was depositing hit the second highest break point, which meant he would pay the second lowest rate offered. It usually wasn't worth negotiating with goblins on banking fee schedules; they would find a way to earn it back somewhere else, so Draco nodded in acceptance. He handed over all of the muggle identification documentation he brought with him, and Ponlon nodded as he recorded and filed them. Draco waited until they finished counting the money and kept his receipt, then made his way back to the Swiss Ministry to schedule another international portkey, this one to Paris. The smell of freshly baked bread washed over him as he exited the portkey room, but Draco wasted no time in utilising the public floo to head directly to the foyer of his property in Southern France, the only one he'd been able to avoid selling. The curtains had all been drawn, and dust swirled in the shafts of light that filtered through. Draco strode across the hardwood floor to pull the heavy cloth open by hand. Sunlight fell on white walls, covered oil paintings, an open kitchen separated by a counter, and a staircase to the second level. Draco walked to the rear and pulled open more curtains to reveal large folding double doors with floor-to-ceiling windows, which opened to a private pool area partially shaded by trees, and beyond that, a bluff above white sandy beaches and the sapphire blue Mediterranean. The trees were the same, and grounds were not exactly manicured, but nothing had grown over the stone in the years since he had last visited.
"A few days of tidying should be able to make this place fit for human habitation," he thought. With the advent of autumn, it would likely be a bit too chilly to think about a summer holiday here with Mary, but they might get lucky with a warm week.
Draco drew his wand and got to work. He wasn't nearly as skilled at housekeeping charms as his mother, but clearing out the dust and cobwebs and removing the coverings from all the furniture wasn't exactly creation of a Philospher's Stone. Floors were swept, curtains opened, weeds pulled and vanished, but the pool covering he left on for the time being, just in case. He checked the wards and protective charms as well, to ensure they still functioned properly. For dinner, he exited the villa and ate at one of the seafood restaurants overlooking the water. Then he made a few purchases, mostly canned food and juices, and a bottle of wine to store in the villa, just in case. He slept with the window open to the sound of the surf far below, and the following day he cleaned the windows, aired out the carpets in the sun, and made sure enough floo powder was stocked on top of the mantle.
"We can head down here via muggle transport when Mary has a holiday from classes," he thought as he looked over his handiwork. He smiled as he tried to imagine her reaction to seeing the vacation home for the first time. Draco flooed back to the French Ministry, booked a portkey to Zurich for the following morning, then stayed at another muggle hotel in Paris. The following morning, he stopped in at the goblin bank again, only to be told to return the following day. Draco spent the day wandering about the city, using a large clock mounted on a building as a reference point. He hiked down to the nearby lake and then up a hill with a fantastic view of the city. Muggle tourists snapped photos, and Draco didn't have a camera, but he could see the allure. The next morning, Ponlon saw him enter and immediately hopped down from his seat to lead him to the rooms in the rear again. He passed a file to Draco.
"These are the details for your muggle numbered Swiss bank account, and the phone number and address for your muggle bank. Do not share the account number. To make a transfer, you must call the muggles at this number, or visit the bank in person," the goblin said, and then he passed a second file back to Draco, "these are your documents returned, please ensure everything is in order."
Draco thumbed through the pages and parchment. He internally winced at the hefty exchange fee, but the goblins would always take their cut so long as they remained the sole financial bridge between the wizarding and muggle worlds.
"That's it then?" Draco asked.
"That is, as you say, it, Lord Malfoy," the goblin replied, "the Goblins of Zurich welcome your business, and hope to see you again soon."
They shook hands and Draco packed away most of the documents, then made his way out of the bank to Zurich Hauptbahnhof, the central train station of the city, and walked amongst the muggles until he found a pay phone. He fished around in a pocket for one of the shiny new Euro coins, dropped it in, and dialled the number on his bank muggle transfer and bank statement. Someone almost immediately picked up.
"Grüezi," came the greeting, followed by a string of Swiss German Draco had no hope of making out.
"Good morning, speak English?" he asked.
"Yes, of course sir, how can I be of assistance today?" the banker asked in accented but clearly understandable English.
"I'd like to verify the balance for the following numbered account," Draco said. He rattled off the digits, and nodded with satisfaction as the banker recited back the balance on the statement.
"Right, and to make a transfer…" Draco said.
"You call this number, and provide us the name of the bank and the destination account," the banker said, "wire transfers require approximately three days to clear."
"Excellent, I'll be in touch," Draco said, and hung up the receiver. He walked around a little bit to orient himself, then retraced his way back to the entrance of the Swiss Ministry. With a few hours to go until his portkey back to London, he stopped at a restaurant to enjoy some cheese fondue. Belly full, he made his way back to the Ministry to catch his portkey.
Back in the British Ministry, Draco strolled past the atrium reflecting pool.
"All in all, not a bad trip," he thought, "of course, would have been better if I'd brought the schematics to get the floo connections working, but other than that…"
"Malfoy Manor," he said at the public floo, and appeared home with a flash of green fire.
"Mother? I'm home," he said as he headed to the library. On the way, he pulled his phone from its protective pouch and switched it on. It chirped and then a series of missed calls messages popped up from Bruno and Darren.
"Did Mary go with you?"
"Is Mary with you?"
"Where the fuck are you? Call me back."
Draco stopped in his tracks and called Bruno.
"Tell me she's with you," Bruno said.
"I told her no, remember?" Draco replied, "is she missing? Did you find her?"
Visions of vampires and Death Eaters filled his mind.
"Shit. Nobody's seen her since you left," Bruno replied.
"I'm almost at the flat now, are you there?" Draco asked.
"Yeah," Bruno replied.
Draco hung up, tucked the phone into its pouch, and with a feeling of dread, turned on the spot and apparated to the roof of Mary's apartment building.