A/N: thanks for your patience. I am traveling for the next two weeks so I can't promise when the next chapter will be, but I'll be doing my best to stay on schedule.
Subject: Almost Autumn
Dear Jane,
The week before September holds a special place in my heart. I loved buying supplies for the school year this week. My boarding school was a bit unconventional, and we used quills and ink pots more often than pens and pencils, and the smell of a new ink pot… well, it may sound strange but it's my favorite smell in the world.
What about you? Do you like the smell of supplies? New notebooks, sharpened pencils?
Nostalgically yours,
Nick
Subject: re: Almost Autumn
Dear Nick,
I know exactly what you mean. Exactly.
Exactly yours,
Jane
Draco smiled the moment the ping! of the new message came in. And even though her message was short, it felt full. Full of something.
He was in the small back office, half an hour from opening the shop for the day. He usually got into the shop early, sent an email to Jane from his DesksTop, and then waited for her response. He figured that her clothing store opened at ten, and she checked her email once before heading over.
Not for the first time, Draco considered taking a walk by the clothing stores in London. But Muggle London still was too unfamiliar to him. The failed cafe date from a week ago was quite excruciating, even before he was stood up.
Draco scoffed. If only Blaise and Theo could see him now. Draco Malfoy stood up for a date. With a Muggle.
But Blaise and Theo weren't around much. Theo hadn't wanted the association to someone serving time, and Blaise didn't understand why Draco had kept correcting him when he'd used the term Mudblood.
He stood from the desk and stretched his shoulders. Jane wouldn't have a moment to respond until the end of the workday, he knew. When he closed the office door behind him, he glanced out to the street where Granger was just now arriving to open up her Excuse for an Apothecary. Something about the way he was glaring at her back must have spiked her senses, because before he could look away, she turned over her shoulder and spotted him. She gave him that uneasy smile that she'd been sending his way for the last week. As if she had recently decided that they should be friendly while she put him out of business.
He did not return her expression, as usual, and she just slipped into the shop and began her morning routines. He'd picked up a bad habit lately of watching her across the street. Perhaps it was the odd way she was behaving around him, perhaps it was the ever-present distrust he had of all Gryffindors, but he now knew every step she took in the mornings. And, unfortunately, he now had a catalog of the ways she misstepped.
Like today. When she had forgotten to put her purse in the backroom first, and was just carrying it around with her like a forgotten cat.
"Idiot," he mumbled. And watched her stop and retrace her steps to put her purse away.
Draco turned his attention to better priorities. His bookkeeping. He ran through the pages every morning, tallying the exact amount he needed to sell each day in order to stay afloat. He'd tried sales, he'd tried pushing more expensive products, but none of it was helping in the grand scheme of things. What he'd said to Jane was correct. He'd be closed by the end of next month.
Just thinking of Jane again had him itching to see if she'd sent him another message, but he was often disappointed when looked multiple times in the morning. She was like him — she had things to do at her shop.
His eyes drifted to Granger's store, and, not for the first time, he caught her looking over at him through both of their windows. He held her eyes with a glare until she looked away. He could see the blush on her cheeks from this far away and was silently grateful she never blushed like that in school. It would have been the death of him.
He liked it much better when she fought with him. That was at least expected. He knew what to do with that Hermione Granger. Not the one that suddenly wanted to chat, seemingly about nothing. Not the one that jumped whenever they made eye contact, or the one who seemed to think they had anything more to say to one another.
While he was glaring at the back of her head, the shop door swung open. "Hello, Draco," Luna said lightly.
Fuck. He forgot it was her day. Which meant he had to pay her for being there. A thing Draco didn't have to worry about when he worked alone, because Draco hadn't paid himself for the past three weeks.
"Oh dear," Luna said. "You have quite a few Wrackspurts." Her eyes landed above his head. "And one more now too. Worried about something?"
Draco sighed. It felt like Luna Lovegood had entered Black Apothecary one day and never left. He had no idea why she decided to work for him, but he'd certainly appreciated her help. That is, until recently, when he had to think of how to pay her.
"Nothing for you to think on," he responded, waving her off.
He allowed her to set up the register and start work on refilling the stock. By an hour after opening, he was brooding in his office, surprised to hear the door open for the first time. Usually they didn't get their first customer until closer to noon these days.
"Uh, yes. Hello," he heard an older woman say. "I was hoping you had bat spleens."
He listened as Luna assisted the woman and rang her up. But it wasn't five minutes later that someone else came in asking for a bat spleen.
Draco poked his head out of the office just as another person opened the door, a man looking around like he'd never stepped foot inside. Which he hadn't. Draco had an uncanny memory for faces.
As Luna was preoccupied with the second customer asking for a bat spleen, Draco approached the new man. "Good morning. How can I help you?"
"Er, yes. Miss Granger said you'd have bat spleens? And perhaps some Sopophorous beans?"
Draco narrowed his eyes, and the man visibly gulped. "Miss Granger said what?"
"Foxglove is low on some stock," Luna provided helpfully. "She's sending people our way. Isn't that kind?"
Draco ground his molars. Kind is exactly what he feared when it came to Hermione Granger. He glanced through his front windows and into Granger's and found her running around the shop, assisting seven people at once with a frazzled look on her face.
With a heavy sigh, he helped the man with his spleens and beans, saying goodbye to him just as another person tottered across the street from Granger's door to his.
By the end of the day, Black Apothecary had taken twelve of her customers, officially three times as many as Draco got on a usual day. And Draco was seething.
He looked through the Prophet to see if Ginny Weasley had written anything new that would explain this psychological warfare, but Weasley's piece was about the Ministry's hexed lift and the broader implications for building security. Useless.
He waited until Luna had gone home. He waited until the closed sign flipped in her window and his. He waited until his skin was itching with frustration. And then as soon as she stepped out of the store to head home, he pounced.
Wrenching the door open, Draco barked, "Granger!"
She whipped to him, her eyes doing that thing he noticed them doing over the past few weeks. Like they'd been retrained into widening at his presence instead of narrowing.
"Hello, Malfoy," she tried.
He marched to her. "What in Merlin's name are you trying to pull?"
She blinked, her eyes going wider than he thought possible. "Trying to…?"
"Why did I have a dozen of your customers in my shop today?" he said, finally reaching her side of the street. He stayed on the cobblestones, unwilling to step up on her sidewalk.
"Oh, I ran low on stock," she said, brushing her hair away from her face. He noticed her eyes were tired and set with circles. "The first years must have wiped me out on basics last week and I didn't have a chance to—"
"You mean to tell me that you didn't plan for the Hogwarts rush?" He scoffed.
Her gaze met his, and he almost saw that fire that had been extinguished for several weeks before she took a deep breath. "I did plan. I just forgot to order. Seeing as Neville would usually… Never mind." She shook her head.
He squinted at her. "Well, don't do me any favors, Granger. I don't want your sloppy seconds."
She tilted her head. "What a crass way to speak about customers—"
"Did you truly run out of spleen? Or are you just hoping to prolong this game we're playing?"
She laughed, tugging her bag up on her shoulder. "And what game is that?"
Draco ran a frustrated hand through his hair. She decided not to play today. That was fine. She was… tired maybe.
"Just… don't 'help' me, Granger. I don't need a pity fuck."
"Trust me, Malfoy," she said lazily. "When I'm fucking you, you'll know it."
Draco heard the words at the same time she did, as if she hadn't expected such a thing to come out of her. And neither did he. Her mouth opened and closed, and he couldn't help but watch it.
Something charged passed between them. Like Muggle electro-city. And he was suddenly very aware that they were on a quiet street, standing close.
She gathered herself first, clearing her throat. "I was just sending business your way. There was no hidden motive. I didn't have the stock; I assumed you did."
Draco's chest felt itchy. "Keep an eye on your purchase orders," he snapped. "You're a business owner, for Merlin's sake."
He stomped back across the street and finished casting his wards. When he turned to finally head home, she was gone.
The small flat Draco had gotten for himself with what was left of the Malfoy money was just that. Small. He kept his eagle owl for the first year for company, mainly — who was he sending letters to? — but he knew the old boy was terribly bored being cooped up. He'd gifted him to Blaise. That was the last he'd seen of either of them, actually.
He had sudden urges on nights like this to send his father an owl, asking for advice with the shop. But he knew the answer would be disheartening. Something about destroying Granger or playing dirty with the Knockturn crowd. There wasn't anything good to come of that.
He sat at his DesksTop, drumming his fingers against the keys in thought. What would Lucius say if he could see him now, the proud owner of two Muggle computers. (Apparently there were things called LapsTop computers now, but he had no idea how that would work. He could barely control the machine on the desk. What would putting it in his lap do to help him?)
Draco struggled over an email to Jane, trying to think of what to tell her.
Subject: a lot on my mind
Dear Jane,
Do you ever wonder what your family thinks of your decisions? You've said that you don't talk to them much, and I wonder if it's the same reason as me.
I used to idolize my father, but just over five years ago I started to question the lengths he would go to for power and "safety." My mother supported him, too. I missed so many opportunities to leave over the years, because I thought I was following his footsteps. It took me a long time to realize that I wanted to make my own footsteps.
(Perhaps that was a bit trite, but I'm sure you understand.)
Why don't you talk to your parents, if you don't mind me asking?
Tritely yours,
Draco stared at the signature line for far too long, wondering if he should just add a postscript, "Nick isn't my real name," before deciding to tackle one thing at a time and signing it "Nick."
After dinner, he got a message back from her.
Subject: re: a lot on my mind
Dear Nick,
I'm very happy for you that you realized you wanted to do things differently than your father. I can only guess from your wording that he was a difficult man and that he didn't have a scrap of your compassion and understanding. You are far better than him.
My parents have memory issues unfortunately. The diagnosis is complicated, but both of them have problems with their memory — of me, in particular. I thought it would be far more painful to insert myself into their lives and shake up their minds than to just let them be. They are being well-taken care of in the meantime.
Complicatedly yours,
Jane
Draco frowned at the computer. He opened a new box and typed "memory problems," finding far too many results, including one from a Doctor Web, MD. He didn't know what possessed him to look. He assumed Jane would have contacted this Doctor Web if she thought there was any use.
He heaved a sigh, sent a sympathetic message back to Jane, and went to bed, knowing that tomorrow — Thursday — would be the last day he could keep the shop solvent before dipping into his own money.
Draco trudged into Diagon Alley the next day, feeling heavy. He had a plan for the day, and he intended to keep it, but pesky Gryffindors always got in the way.
Neville Longbottom, it seemed, was late to work. Which was unlike him. And it meant he was left staring down the Foxglove and Belladonna windows, waiting for him. Draco's mediocre mood was dependent on snatching Longbottom for a conversation before he entered Granger's shop, so Draco didn't have to speak to Granger herself about the matter.
But staring down the much-more-than-an-apothecary meant that he got to see how many times Granger looked over at Black Apothecary.
Seventeen.
More than the number of people in her shop by half past ten, but not by much.
She had a terrible habit of glancing his way, making eye contact, and turning her eyes to the shelves, as if she hadn't just been caught. Draco found it fascinating.
Why couldn't she just gloat like a normal person?
By the time his clock chimed eleven, Longbottom still wasn't at work.
"Lazy ass," Draco hummed under his breath. He decided he couldn't take another nervous glance from Granger and went back to his register.
At the end of the day, when there was no Longbottom, Draco's mediocre mood had turned foul. He closed ten minutes early and stomped his way across the cobblestones the second Granger's last customer had left the register. He rapped his knuckle on the glass and watched as she jumped, eyes wide when they landed on him. She was reading a book — of course she was — and taking notes with a quill. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was studying for an exam.
She briskly moved to the door and patted down her hair in a gesture that made his top lip curl. "Malfoy?" she said carefully, as she opened the door a crack.
"Where the hell is Longbottom?" he said, glowering.
She blinked at him, and he had time to notice how long her lashes were before she said, "Pardon?"
"Neville? Anxious little fellow who has a penchant for swinging swords at reptiles?"
"Neville doesn't—" She stopped herself. "He's at Hogwarts."
Draco's brows drew together. "What do you mean?"
"Neville moved in at Hogwarts this week. He'll be the new Herbology professor. He hasn't worked here since last Friday."
Draco threw his hands up in the air. "When did this happen?!"
"Last Friday," she repeated. She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe. "Did you want to come in?"
"Absolutely not," he huffed. "I need…" He hesitated. He had to talk to Granger, he supposed. "I need you to take Luna."
She tilted her head, and he watched a curl fall across her cheek. "Take her where?"
"I have to let her go. I can't pay her any longer. I need you to tell me you can give her a position before I make it official."
Granger seemed to gasp. Perhaps it was more of a breath. But it opened her entire face, drawing his eyes everywhere at once. Her full lips, her large eyes. And then she had the audacity to run a hand through her hair, as if she wanted to highlight every possible good feature she had.
Irritating.
"Malfoy, are you sure? There has to be something…"
She trailed off, and he watched her gaze flicker between each of his eyes before it fell… to his mouth.
He stepped back, crossed his arms, and regained his composure. "I'm sure. I've done the books. I can't keep her. I just need to know that Foxglove is open to taking her — that is, if she wants to."
She nodded quickly, chewing on her bottom lip with those teeth he'd thought had been too large. Perhaps she'd grown into them.
"You'll find a way to keep it open though, won't you? This will help?" she asked.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Stop pretending like this isn't what you dreamt about, Granger."
He turned on his heel and went back to his store, refusing to look her way again.
Luna took it well. She wished him the best, and hoped he would find a solution.
Draco stopped placing his purchase orders the next week. And by Friday, he had drawn up the paperwork to turn into the Ministry. Black Apothecary would close, effective 30 September.
He felt nothing as he signed his name, folded the scrolls into his satchel, and Floo'd to the Ministry. It was nine in the morning. He had an hour to turn in the Closure of Business paperwork to both the Ministry and the Diagon Alley Historical Society. And then he'd go to the shop and start placing "Going Out of Business Sale" signs in the windows.
The Ministry was busy with workers flushing in, and there was new security regarding the hexed lift, requiring all wands to be collected in the Atrium. Draco sighed and handed his hawthorn wand over.
He didn't particularly like being in the Ministry, and especially wandless. He always had a sinking feeling like he'd be chained and taken downstairs for a trial. Again.
So he kept his head down, moving swiftly to the elevator bank. When one grate opened, he stepped inside and pressed himself into the corner while two more wizards joined. They gave him a calculating look, and Draco lifted his chin, affecting his schoolboy arrogance.
"Hold the lift please!" a tauntingly familiar voice called.
One of the wizards reached his arm out for the closing grate, and Draco closed his eyes in exasperation as Hermione Granger stepped in.
"Malfoy," she said, in recognition. "What are you…"
When he looked at her, her gaze was on the paperwork in his hand. Conveniently, the words "Closure of Business" were perfectly visible.
Her eyes jumped to his face. "You can't," she said firmly. As if she had a say. She stayed planted in the doorway.
"Coming or going, Granger?" Draco said, his voice harsh.
"Something could be done, surely," she said, ignoring him.
"I've thought of every possibility. I'm closing."
The two wizards looked between them. One of them checked his timepiece with a sigh. Granger didn't move from where she was blocking the grate.
Draco finally huffed and pushed past her, looking for another lift.
She followed, unfortunately. "I'm— I'm sure you have thought of the possibilities, but maybe I could do something—"
He spun to her with a disgusted look. "You have done enough, don't you think?"
"Ginny!" she said. "Ginny could write something up about Black Apothecary."
Draco headed for a lift just as the grate closed on him. He was fuming as he looked for any space that wasn't occupied by Hermione Granger. There was an empty lift at the end, doors open and waiting.
He all but sprinted to it, turning to close the grate and ask for Level 1. Someone called after him, and he assumed it was her.
Granger's shoulder pressed in before the doors could close, pushing her way inside. "We can think of something," she said breathlessly.
The grate closed, and Draco resigned himself to just ignoring her on the way up. He thought he heard someone call out for Granger at the last minute before the lift pulled away.
"Malfoy?" she prompted.
He looked over at her, despite having decided not to. "What are you doing at the Ministry today? Opening another business? Franchising yet?"
Her cheeks colored a fetching pink, and she said, "No, I… I have an exam today."
"An exam?" He sneered at her, about to make a remark about how Hogwarts was over, when the lift came to a stop.
He didn't think they were at Level 1 yet.
And from the way Granger looked up, she didn't either.
She stepped forward, and without a wand, tried forcing the elevator to move. "Level 1, please," she spoke into the wall, as if there was someone there.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Muggle lifts have buttons here," she said, pointing. "I was just giving it a try."
Suddenly the lift zoomed to the left, knocking her off her feet and into his chest. Draco braced them as they moved faster than any lift had right to move. Granger squeaked when it stopped and she fell against the far wall.
A sudden realization froze him.
The hexed lift. The voices calling for them as they headed to it… warning them.
Granger seemed to have come to the same realization. "Oh…"
She looked at him and he looked at her. They were trapped in a hexed lift. Without wands.
They braced themselves against the corners, in case the lift jerked again. After a full minute of held breaths, Draco finally relaxed. He leaned back against the wall and slid down to sit, dropping his head.
"Um…" she said, as if she couldn't stand the silence. He resigned himself to a small wait.
At least Granger had people who cared if she went missing.
They'd be out in no time.
