~ Witch Weekly Issue 6/2005 ~
Most Eligible Bachelor 2005
… And to nobody's surprise, none other than Draco Lucius Malfoy is Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor of Year, 2005. With his striking looks, his vaults full of gold, sharp intellect, excellent manners, and an image overhaul, Mr Malfoy is what we like to call the full package. Who would have thought just a couple of years ago that he would even make our coveted list of bachelors? But there he went and won everybody's heart in a storm. He is not only a philanthropist welcome at all galas, but also a shrewd businessman who has given Malfoy Industries a new direction. Gone are the days of shady deals. Mr Malfoy has traded in his Death Eater robes for a clean slate and any former critic will be hard-pressed to find a single fault with him. To top it all off, Mr Malfoy is a sight to behold. With his white-blonde hair, chiselled chin, and high cheekbones, he has many a witch sighing and fluttering her lashes.
While numerous witches have been seen on the arm of this most formidable picture of a wizard, Mr Malfoy has yet to go steady with any of them.
This Author advises any interested witch to make haste, for men in Mr Malfoy's circles do not stay single long past their twenty-fifth birthday.
" Malfoy ?" Harry snorted and bit into his buttered toast.
Ginny, who had read the dreaded article aloud, smacked the magazine flat on the table so Harry got a good look at their school nemesis raising an eyebrow and giving a lopsided smile.
"The one and only." Hugging her disgruntled husband from behind, Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek. "Who did you expect them to choose after I snatched the Boy-Who-Lived off the market?"
Displays of affection like this, combined with Ginny's ritual of reading Witch Weekly out loud on Mondays – of all days, Mondays! – were what made Hermione want to speed up her efforts to move out of Grimmauld Place.
After the war and finishing 8th year at Hogwarts, when it had been just Harry and her at Grimmauld Place, it had been so nice. Soon enough though, Ginny moved in and Hermione retreated to her room to give the lovebirds space. If she was honest with herself, Hermione just liked the idea of a closed door between herself and whatever Ginny and Harry were up to. Walking in on them shagging in the living room once had been one time too many. Harry had not been able to look her in the eye for days after that. Of course, she thought of both as friends and did not begrudge them their happiness, but there was only so much she needed to know about her friends' relationship.
During the first years in her ministry job, Hermione was so engrossed in her work that with all the overtime and practically collapsing during the weekend, she did not find the time to look for a new place to live. When Harry and Ginny married earlier the year before, Hermione began to feel like an intruder. Her friends talking about starting a family sure did not lessen her feelings.
Having started a new chapter in her life job-wise, it was time for Hermione to start a new chapter housing-wise. After years of frustration with the outdated magical legal system, Hermione had quit her job in the ministry and fulfilled her dream of owning a bookshop. "Where Worlds Meet" was the first bookshop of its kind in the wizarding world, offering both wizarding and Muggle literature. The fact that her flatmates were expecting their first child only moved the task further up Hermione's to-do list.
"But Malfoy ?" Scrunching his nose, Harry flung the repulsive magazine away from him.
"He's fit." At that offhand comment from his wife, Harry spat coffee all over. Hermione hissed and shielded her breakfast with her hand.
"Fit?!" Harry cried out. "Hermione, help me out here!" After an eye-roll that should have dislocated her eyes, Hermione could not stop herself from studying Malfoy's photograph. He was good-looking, there was no use denying it. Just before she could reluctantly agree with Ginny, the photograph winked. The gesture made Hermione want to slap him in the face.
"I have to open the store." Ignoring Harry's protest, she went to the front door to apparate to Horizontal Alley, a side street to Diagon Alley. Her bookstore was the last building in the street before a brick wall dead-end that opened up into another entrance to Muggle London.
Hermione was in the back room of her store for one minute before she was met with pure madness. Her usually slow and peaceful Monday morning was disrupted by a throng of people squeezing into her stacks. More patrons than even at her grand opening bustled through the aisles.
After the seventh witch had declined her "May I help you?" without even looking at her, Hermione had had it and shoved her way through the masses, ever closer to the epicenter of attention. Having advanced to nearly the farthest point of her store, an all too familiar woman stood before her: curly blonde hair, hideous green blazer and skirt, and a matching green magical quill jotting down notes on a notepad. A resolute elbow thrust into Rita Skeeter's side a moment later and Hermione found the cause of the ruckus: Draco Malfoy. He was sitting in one of her plush armchairs and shielding his face with a book on the history of the second Ogre War. She placed an outstretched hand on the top of the book and firmly pressed downward, forcing him to look up at her. They met each other with forced smiles.
"May I help you?" she pressed through gritted teeth. Her voice carried the unmistakable tone of a determined "leave" ! Malfoy stood from his seat and towered over her. Just like their school days, he looked down upon her.
"Granger." He said her name like it would leave a bad taste in his mouth.
"No, thank you; I'm just browsing." He grabbed a random book from the shelf and leafed through the pages. Hermione would not tolerate him and his entourage of crazed witches and sensationalist reporters in her store. She had loyal patrons to tend to. Tapping her foot impatiently, she squared her shoulders and propped her hands on her hips.
"I might know just the book for you," Hermione clipped with a wicked grin and took hold of his elbow. With Malfoy in tow, the masses split like the Red Sea. Reaching the designated shelf for self-improvement books, Hermione scanned the titles and grabbed the book that had come to mind: Personal Space – how keeping distance can heal you . She shoved it into Malfoy's chest. He scrutinized her choice with knitted eyebrows and tsked.
"What did you say? You want me to ring you up? No problem." It was a very liberal interpretation of his most undignified noise, but Hermione could not care less about any further explanation.
Two barcode scan beeps later, the books were shoved into a paper bag and held out to her unwilling customer.
"Still as charming as a Blast-Ended Skrewt, I see." Malfoy donned his trademark smirk and strode off before she could retort. Hermione hoped that his retreat was the last she had to ever see of him. His merry band of followers trailed behind him like baby geese following their mother. Quiet settled once more over her store.