A/N - I know it's been a while since I've posted anything anywhere, but life always happens. In fact, I pulled an all-nighter to finish the original version of this fic because I had no other free time.
Because of that, I have decided that I am going to post this story in smaller chapters, rather than all in one go, especially because I would like to rework the ending of it and flesh it out so it doesn't sound so rushed. The first few chapters should be posted rather quickly before things slow down. My writing style has definitely changed a lot as I've gotten older, but I hope that the folks who previously enjoyed my stories still somehow find me and still appreciate my work.
I came back to this story, though, because I could not stop thinking about it and after re-reading some of my favorite D/G stories, I felt inspired to actually work on this again. I might have to make some edits down the line for due to certain scenes I have planned, but we'll see lol.
This fic was originally written for dgficexchange of the D/G Fic Exchange on LiveJournal. Enjoy!
As You Wish
Blaise Zabini supposed a lot of this could be his fault.
Although some of his more adventurous days were behind him, he knew it was only a matter of time before something or someone caught enough of his attention that things would devolve into him doing something that might get his friend involved to clean it up.
But now is neither the time nor place to discuss how he created the mess his friend now found himself in. No, for now, it would be better to focus on how, through all the odds and initial mutual bickering, Blaise watched as his friend grew to have feelings other than pure hatred and disgust for someone they thought had simply dropped off the face of the earth.
In addition to his previous proclivity for instigating and then observing situations for his personal amusement, Blaise Zabini is also a thoughtful man who cares fiercely about his friends and will do just about anything to see them happy.
That being said, it is now time to introduce Blaise's best friend: Draco Malfoy.
While he was always a bit of a Type-A personality, Draco as an adult became very different from the one Blaise knew growing up. The pair knew it was Draco's way of making amends to a society that felt that the less they heard about him, the better. He spent most nights in his office, his dinner having been delivered to said office by his mother, Narcissa, who fretted constantly over the state of her son's social life. More often than not, he slept on the pull-out sofa in his office (a gift from Blaise) and, therefore, rarely spent anytime in his brownstone in the relatively newer part of Diagon Alley.
At first, Narcissa seemed to be rather pleased with her son's dedication to revitalizing the family business. She had always hated the fact that Voldemort told Lucius to step down from their trading firm to go work for the Ministry. Her husband, his war crimes notwithstanding, was actually a shrewd businessman. Draco stepping in was met with some hostility, considering who his father was; but he was able to stave off Reginald Greengrass's advances on the organization and expanded the business further into mainland Europe.
But as Draco grew closer to 30, his mother got nervous. While her son's personality mostly went back to how he was prior to going to school, she realized that he began to use work as a way to shield himself from reality. He became reclusive and delivering his dinner to him became the only way she could consistently see him. She had tried speaking to him about it on a handful of occasions, but her concerns fell on deaf ears. His excuses were always couched in language that implied that he was too aware of how the public viewed him. Being out and about in the world would only draw negative attention to himself, and to the company by association.
Luckily for her, Blaise also noticed this. He also noticed that while Narcissa's concern for just her son was genuine, he also knew that mothers tended to expect certain things once their children got old enough. He was lucky that his own mother backed off for a bit after the mess that was Astoria Greengrass, but he knew that Narcissa was more persistent. And so, Blaise decided to present his best friend with the most unexpected of gifts.
"I can't believe you talked me into this nonsense."
"What? You agreed to have lunch with me and this is technically on the way to the restaurant. Just think of this as a nice side trip."
"To a harem?"
"Pfft. This isn't a harem. It's a small shop owned by a very lovely woman. I'm here to pick something up."
"And what, exactly, in Merlin's name are you picking up?"
"Oh, nothing. Just a gift for a friend of mine."
The next day, Draco walked into his office after his final meeting of the day to find a thin, vertical package sitting on his desk.
It was wrapped in deep crimson paper, the texture of papyrus, with a purple bow on top.
Used to such strange packages from potential investors and clients, and as someone who briefly dabbled in thievery as a child, Draco gingerly unwrapped the parcel to discover a white box with a note resting on top.
He placed the note aside, already having a feeling as to who the gift was from, and opened the box, pulling out a dusty bottle of Firewhisky.
The blond man popped his head out of his office, casting a look at his saint of a secretary, Margaret.
"Margaret, be a dear and tell Zabini to get his arse down to my office. Immediately."
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy. Already done," she replied, flashing him a smile.
About five minutes later, Blaise walked in with a little too much pep in his step for his friend's liking.
"Any particular reason you decided to gift me with a dusty bottle of Firewhisky?"
"Oh, so I see you got my gift!" Blaise replied, walking over to grab the bottle.
"Yes, that's great and all. Thank you very much and so on, but is there any specific reason why you bought me this?"
"What? Can't a guy buy his best mate some alcohol as a small gesture of friendship? Think of it as a late birthday present."
Draco narrowed his eyes, before leaning against his desk. "Coming from you, it gives me even more reason to be suspicious. Besides, why would you gift wrap this instead of just giving me the bottle?"
"Relax, Draco. There's nothing for you to be worried about. Why don't you open it up and we'll have a drink."
The other man glanced reluctantly at the bottle of liquor before looking back at his friend.
"I don't know, Blaise. We're on the clock and I'd rather not be caught drinking on the job."
"Valid point, but think of this as a business meeting between the head of the company and his next in command. We drink all the time during business meetings." He grabbed two glasses from the side table across from Draco's sleeper sofa and brought them over to his friend.
Draco reluctantly grabbed one of the offered glasses and sighed. "Considering it's technically towards the end of the work day, I suppose having a small sample wouldn't hurt me."
"That's the spirit!" Blaise replied, grabbing the glasses again to set them on Draco's desk, ensuring that his friend would be the one to open the bottle.
Upon the bottle's opening, a searing pain ran through Draco, setting every single nerve on fire, causing his nervous system to go into overdrive. Instinctively, he dropped the bottle to the ground and grabbed onto his wrist in an attempt to ease the pain.
The bottle bounced slightly before dropping to its side, rolling a couple of times until it hit the coffee table in Draco's office.
"Ow! Fucking hell! Way to go, arsehole!"
Blaise and Draco exchanged a look. One of fear, concern, and, from Draco, slight nausea as the pain continued to wreak havoc on his body.
"Did that bottle just call me an 'arsehole'?" Draco asked. He kneeled down, crawling over to where the bottle was.
"Yeah, you bloody wanker! Thanks for dropping my home! This is making me feel so welcome!" the voice inside the bottle shouted.
"Are you talking back at me?" He tried peering inside the open mouth of the bottle. He couldn't see anything, but why did the voice coming from it sound so familiar?
"Looks like I found myself a regular genius for a master! I'm such a lucky girl!"
"Master? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Right the bottle and I'll be happy to explain everything."
Draco stood up and grabbed the bottle, placing it in the middle of the room and rushed over to make sure his door was locked.
The bottle started shaking violently, doing a bottle cha-cha as it began spurting out a cloud of red smoke.
The smoke filled the room, curling around each occupant's feet. The blond man thought the pain he felt may have messed with his senses as it suddenly smelled of a mix between fresh washed clothing and petrichor. He felt his clothes, wondering how it could smell like a storm had passed through without him getting wet. The smoke began rising and rising, becoming thicker and redder with each shake until it cleared entirely as though an atom bomb had just been dropped, and Blaise and Draco were standing in the fall out.
In the center was Ginny Weasley holding the bottle of Firewhisky, wearing...wearing, well, they weren't exactly sure what she was wearing.
Ginny would later claim that her outfit and her entrance were chosen for her by the Bottle, as she called it.
She has since explained that the Bottle is a finicky creature. Not really picky about whoever resides in it, just so long as it's a person of magical heritage able to withstand skimpy outfits and years of disappointment. It likes to think that it'll have one occupant for all eternity, but there's clearly evidence to the contrary. The Bottle's powers are limitless and its origin unknown. Although it's ancient, it knows its stuff and will often transform its outer appearance to keep up with the times (and, sometimes, whoever is trapped within). The Bottle also likes to believe that it's more magnanimous than its relatives as it has a habit of working with masters and, when the mood strikes, occupants who have a genuine need.
Ginny supposed that the Bottle had been in certain parts of America for too long, since it tends to now favor Las Vegas showgirl-style when it comes to entrances and a little bit of Southern pageantry when it comes to embellishments. It always creates a flashy entrance and Ginny's was flashy, by all means.
Its influences also mean her outfit was tight, revealing, and had enough sparkles and rhinestones to make her almost keel over from the weight of it. She never understood how something so all powerful couldn't make her entrance outfit less heavy.
Draco waved a hand in front of his face, coughing as he waved away whatever smoke was left.
"Weasley?" he croaked out.
"Hello, hello! For the next three wishes, I shall be your ever-loyal, all-powerful ge—" She faltered in her speech as she finally opened her eyes, seeing who, exactly, was going to be her new master.
"Oh, hell no. No, no, no. This is not happening," she announced, holding up the Bottle to her face. "I'm sorry, but I refuse." A pause as the Bottle answered. The Bottle always has the final say in any binding Genie-Master contracts and, if the Bottle likes its inhabitant enough, will let them have a say in what happens. "But, Bottle—" Ginny whinged. Another long pause as the Bottle replied. "Do you even know who he is?" Even more arguing. "Yes, I know that I'm obligated to—" If the Bottle was a person, specifically Ginny's mum, they'd be giving the patented Mum Look.
After another long pause, Ginny sighed. "Fine. I'll do it. But you owe me big time." Ginny sighed once more and began her introductory speech again with a grin, albeit through gritted teeth.
"Hello, hello! For the next three wishes, I shall be your ever-loyal, all-powerful genie! Choose wisely, new master!"
"A genie? You bought me a fucking genie bottle and it turns out it's Weasley?" Draco stomped past Ginny, who relaxed immediately, and began shoving Blaise.
"What?" the other man asked, affronted. "You just looked like you needed some excitement back in your life, and what better way to do that than through this genie lamp? The fact that it's Weasley is simply an amusing little coincidence."
Draco was about to respond when he received a tap on the shoulder. He turned around to see Ginny staring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Look, Malfoy. Neither of us are particularly happy about this. But you opened up the Bottle, and the Bottle isn't letting me out of this, so I'm bound to you for better or for worse."
"You make it sound like we're married," Draco replied, going white as a sheet.
Ginny snorted, "Something like that."
A/N - Thank you to you, the reader, for taking the time to read this! First 2 chapters or so are on the shorter side, but things should start to even out by chapters 3 and 4.
Original Prompt that we sent you:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic: Draco is a very dedicated businessman who doesn't have any time at all for himself. He gets pressured into buying a genie lamp by his friend, Blaise Zabini [boy]. The reason Blaise wants him to buy the lamp is because he wants Draco's life to be exciting again. Neither Draco nor Blaise expect Ginny to come out of the lamp. Draco decides to make things interesting by telling Ginny to do anything he wants, treating her like a slave until he falls for her.
The tone/mood of the fic: Light and comical, but very romantic.
An element/line of dialogue/object you would specifically like in your fic: I would love for Draco to have something from his childhood, such as a blanky or a teddy bear, which Ginny steals because it smells like him
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: Um, PG-13 or higher.
Canon or AU? Whatever is easier for you!
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): I'm up for anything =]