Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Empire	By : waymay & Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 12288 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters written in this story; everything belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. I don't make any profit from these stories!

Chapter List
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A/N: Whew! I'm SO excited for all of you guys to read this chapter just 'cause I had a lot of fun writing it -this one just came to me! It's filled with so much silliness that had me (and Mr. Benzedrine) giggling to the very end, and I hope it does the same for you! And thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! :) And I can't go without saying thank you to Mr. Benzedrine for laughing (confirming that I'm doing something right!) and proofing my fic. I always have a blast hanging out with you. ♥
@HarryGinny4eva: It certainly is intriguing! If anyone can turn Draco's world around, it's definitely Hermione.
@Amanda: Thanks so much!! Hopefully this will satisfy you for now. :)

"Fuck!" Without warning, Draco Malfoy slipped off his broom and plummeted down, down, down towards the ground below… he can see the ground now, and it's calling his name. Death. It's calling to him, and he'll surely die, and without building up his family name, without an heir, without even having tried out the wheelbarrow...
Then it dawned on him.
He was still on the broom.
Holy shit.
Luckily for the ex-Slytherin, his thighs' death grip on the broom saved him from toppling onto the cobblestone of Diagon Alley. Draco hung upside down while still hanging onto the Nimbus 2K3. His breathing was ragged as he looked around him, silently praying there would be no more lightning bolts. Another strike near him, and he was sure he'd fall to his death.
Though Draco would still consider himself relatively athletic, his stamina didn't match the sixteen-year-old Draco's. He inhaled, attempting to slow down his panicked heart and swung back and forth on the broom. "Ugh," He groaned, already feeling the burn in his abs after the fifth swing. All the late night drinking didn't help him. Maybe he should stop.
The broom rocked uneasily as he tried to build momentum. Another thirty seconds, and Draco was finally able to propel himself right side up. His hands, quickly, finding the wooden handle, and he held on tight.
His heart was beating in his ears. He looked around, wide eyed, wondering if anyone saw what happened. Draco kind of hoped they did. It was pretty cool after all! He grinned and laughed. What a thrill! It'd been so long since he felt so alive!
"Holy shit!" He was still laughing as he carefully approached the patio of his room at the Leaky Cauldron. As he lands, he planted both feet firmly onto the wet ground, just in case there was another fall. He pushed over the sliding glass door, and quickly moved into the dining room. The room came to life as he stepped onto the carpeted floor. The flames of the candles and lamps, scattered throughout the loft, flickered softly.
His clothes were drenched in rainwater and he made a small puddle on the wooden floor of the dining room, but a quick dry spell solved everything. Draco, gently, leaned the broom against the wall, and the sound of his heart pounding echoed in the room.
Slowly, Draco came down from his high, his heart rate returned to normal. He stared at the hypnotizing pattern of the rainfall, listening to them drum against the wooden deck outside. In the distance, he could hear the thunder roar. It was going to be a long rainy night.
Without a sound, he lifted his wand, silently conjuring, yet, another bottle of fresh fireball whiskey and an old fashioned glass from his liquor cabinet. The bottle opened with a loud pop as he continued to pour himself a generous amount of whiskey into the glass.
He took a sip of the liquor, grimacing at the bitter taste on his tongue and the burning at the back of his throat. While he enjoyed his selection of alcohol, he could never get used to the initial taste.
Draco glanced down, flexing his right hand. Some anti-slip gloves would have been nice... Once Draco had a grip on the boom, after gracefully saving himself from almost plummeting to his death, he held onto the broomstick as if his life (literally) depended on it. His hands were red and sore.
He glanced back over towards the Nimbus 2K3, and just like that, a metaphorical light bulb came to life.
Knock. Knock.
Someone tapped lightly on the door to her office, waking Hermione from her slumber. She sat up, startled, as a sheet of parchment sticks to her face. She peeled it off, grimacing at the dampness of the paper.
"What?" She muttered while looking down at her table. There was so much drool! Hermione cursed at herself for being so careless and attempted to dab away the slobber. "Damn it."
Another knock sounded.
"Oh-Come in!"
The door opened slowly, and Ron's head peeked through, "You're still here, 'Mione?"
"Yea," She wiped her face with the sleeve of her robes, hoping her friend didn't see any residue on the corner of her lips and cheek. "I, uh, I've been crunching in some numbers for the shoppe!" What a lie. She was never a good liar, but Ron was usually dense enough to fall for anything.
"Wow, we're doing that well, huh?" Sensing her good mood, the redhead stepped further into the office and shut the door behind him. "Good to know!"
Hermione sighed in relief, knowing he bought her lie. She hated lying, but she couldn't tell Ron she was working with Malfoy. His head would, probably, explode. "What are you doing here, anyway? Rather, what time is it?" She checked her wand, 10:20.
Ron shrugged, "I noticed you were still in the office when George and I closed. Figured I'd check up on ya to see if you were still here." He chuckled, "It's not unlike you to pull all nighters."
She laughed alongside him, "Somehow, it's quite unlike you to notice I've been working all day."
"I pay attention to things, ya'know!" Ron huffed and plopped down onto the armchair across from hers, "So, tell me, how are the numbers?"
Hermione hesitated, quickly slipping the manilla folder under a pile of other documents. "I believe we're making roughly fifteen thousand galleons a month." She noticed Ron's jaw drop at her numbers. It wasn't an all out lie, but rather a ballpark of the number. Honestly, she hadn't the time the work on the joke shoppe's finance, yet. She'd get around to the specifics soon enough.
"That's amazing. Ever since you came around, business certainly has been booming!" He smiled at the witch. A pang of guilt struck her heart as she returned the smile. "Oh, I brought you dinner from home. Mom made delicious meatloaf tonight." He pulled out a paper bag and handed it over to Hermione. "I know you forget to eat when you're working hard."
"Oh, Ron, thank you." Her smile grew, accepting the food. Her stomach grumbled at the smell of Molly's meatloaf.
"'Mione, I know I've been apologizin' a lot, but I really am sorry. Especially when we saw Malfoy at the Ministry." His cheeks grew red, "It's just, seein' him gets my blood boilin', ya'know? Malfoy- The man should be locked up in Azkaban, but here he is! Roaming free, doing God knows what!" Ron was already getting riled up just from bringing up the poor Slytherin.
She sighed, confirming the fact that breaking the news to Ron about their partnership was a no go. But, Ron took a deep breath, relaxing his tense body when he noticed Hermione's lack of response towards his jab.
Hermione popped open the container, her mouth filling up with saliva. "Mmm... it smells so good!"
Time always seemed to pass quickly whenever they enjoyed themselves. It'd been some time since Hermione and Ron separated, but the two of them continued to share a strong bond, much like a brother and sister.
"Oh, look at the time." Ron gestured towards Hermione's flashing wand clock. "I should go -sure you have a lot more work to do. Can't go lightin' your office up again, right?" He stood up and made his way towards the witch, giving her a big hug, "Thank you for all your work, 'Mione."
She laughed, "Well, I am getting paid for it!"
As soon as Ron Disapperated, Hermione cracked down on business. There was a lot of work to be done- more than what she anticipated, especially from Malfoy's side of things. Plus, there were still some numbers she needed to punch in for the joke shoppe as well.
"Damn it, Malfoy. Just how many shoppes have you opened and closed?!"
The morning rays shined through the windows as Draco lie away on his bed. He tossed a Quaffle into the air and caught it, repeating the action over and over. For him, it was almost like meditation. His fingers caressed every nook and cranny of the ball,the leathery material soft to the touch.
He hadn't slept a wink last night.
Inspiration actually came to him. And he took a moment to thank the gods above for the near death experience. Without the lightning almost striking him, he wouldn't have come up with some early (and awesome, might he add) concept for Quidditch accessories.
Draco glanced over at the table he slaved over all night. The trash can was filled to the brim with crumbled paper, full of rejected ideas. The ones approved were sprawled all over the desk, and a faint smile crept across his lips.
It'd been years since he found himself enjoying Quidditch. He'd been so busy with life, he didn't have the time to enjoy things. And for some reason, he took that bushy haired witch's advice.
Odd how these things turn out.
Maybe he should tell Granger about his rekindled -dare he say it, passion?
"This has been one hell of a roller coaster, Hermione." He looked into her eyes as they stood outside the newly opened store. An oversize banner, hanging in front of the door, reading 'GRAND OPENING.' Confetti littered the floor. It was an epic party.
He popped open the last champagne bottle and poured the bubbly drink into a crystal flute and handed one to the witch. Their fingers brush ever so slightly as she accepted the drink.
"But..." he continued, "it has been one amazing ride." The man smiled down at her, and they clinked their glasses.
Their eyes stared deeply into each other's. Brown meeting grey. She shuddered at his intense gaze; it felt as if he was undressing her with those eyes.
She blushed in response.
"Hermione," he whispered, his voice low. He dipped his head, ever so slowly, eyes fluttering shut. His glistening lips parted. Oh, they looked...so soft.
She sighed, leaning forward towards the man, tiptoeing in an attempt to extend her height.
"Hermione..." His charming voice echoed in the faint distance, "You're such an amazing woman..."
"Mmmm..." She bit her lower lip. "You're amazing..." She muttered.
"I-I don't think this is a really good idea."
"What?" Hermione continued to murmur under her breath. Her throat dry with anticipation.
"Hermionnneee..." The voice faded in and out, almost as if someone else was speaking to her.
"What?" She opened her eyes slowly. They moved lazily from left to right as she tried to find focus in her new space. Her brows furrowed in confusion. -And, out of nowhere, booming laughter filled the air and she quickly sat up, sniffing the room. "W-What is-What is this smell?" She jumped off her chair, desperately flailing her arms around to rid herself from the stench, "OH, MY GOD!"
George and Ron, who'd snuck into the office earlier trying to wake the witch up, bellowed over in laughter as they stood in front of the door, ready to bolt out as soon as Hermione came to her senses. "Hermione smells like a Bundimun!" The older one shouted. He was, also, the one who rolled the stink bomb under her desk.
"You two!" She huffed, quickly taking a deep breath and holding it in. She didn't want to breathe in anymore of the foul odor, and it also helped her to not scream out 'you ruined my dream of Malfoy!' -which she really wanted to do in her fit of anger.
Instead, with her (usual) wit and amazing speed, Hermione grabbed her wand. "Petrificus Totalus!" The red headed duo froze immediately, their mouths hanging wide open from their nonstop laughter and their eyelids peeled back. "Accio nose plug!" Two pops could be heard coming from George and Ron as their protection against the stink bomb was (so rudely, as George would later describe it) taken away. Hermione grimaced as the nose plugs came flying onto her hand, and she quickly dropped them onto the ground.
She turned her attention back towards the frozen men, or rather, boys, based on how they behave. "Three can play this game," she sneered. Hermione learned, through the years of working with Ron and George, that the only way to win is to beat them at their own game. "I was going to show this to you two at some point..." She spoke slowly while breathing through her mouth to minimize smelling the deathly scent. Hermione made her way towards her desk and pulled out a vial, filled with purple liquid, from the bottom drawer. "Maybe it's time to debut it. I spent many long hours working on this, and...Well -You'll just have to see this for yourself, hmm?"
The witch took her time walking towards the brothers. Her eyes darkened, and they resonated with anger as she approached them. She twisted the cork and pulled out the dropper. "Now... this is a pretty power potion." She enunciated each word, "And I haven't found the right formula to dilute it." She dipped the dropper into the mysterious liquid. "But it should be fine. I think a drop will do. So, who first? Any volunteers?"
Hermione looked at the brothers- first, at George, then over to Ron, who had beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his temple. Despite his apologies over the past several days, Ron had been quite a nuisance. The incident with the fireflies in her office, waking up late for the office visitation, and rudeness towards the poor Draco Malfoy all came to mind. And then, George, the instigator of all pranks -Okay, who was she kidding? Of course, it was going to be Ron!
"You've always been like a dear brother to me." She tsked, shaking her head at the younger Weasley. "Don't go crying to Mummy, now, okay?" She pulled out the dropper and very carefully, applied one drop onto Ron's head.
They waited, but nothing happened.
"Hmm... shame. Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to put it on you, too, then." She repeated the same action towards George. Hermione waited, her shoulders slumping just a tad as nothing came to, but her expression remained wicked.
"Now, I do believe Verity is working today. So, I'm going to go home, take a shower, and get rid of this awful stink." She smirked. "Do hang tight, boys."
Hermione arrived home just as an owl appeared, tapping gently at her living room window. She propped it open, allowing the majestic bird to soar in. The owl stuck its leg out towards her while turning its head away from the witch, hooting. She could almost see the repulsed expression on its feathery face as it breathed in her musk.
"Sorry," she muttered, untying the scroll from its leg and unrolling the parchment.
Granger,
Should you be available tonight, you are welcomed to meet me at the Leaky Cauldron, where I am, temporarily, residing. I will be available starting at six in the evening.
Draco Malfoy
"Well, this is a surprise!" She smiled, rolling the letter back up. "Who'd expect Draco Malfoy to actually reach out to me?" She conjured her own set of writing materials and quickly scribbling a response. "Here you go, and a snack for having to deal with this horrid smell." She tied a new scroll back onto the owl's left leg and handed it a biscuit.
The owl hooted, nodding towards the witch and hopped out the window.
She checked the time. "Onto a shower, then."
Draco received her correspondence not too long after he sent his. She's coming! His heart pounded as he read the letter, suddenly nervous. Why was he nervous? It was just Granger. Maybe it was because no one's ever stepped foot in his loft. He never, really, had anyone to invite. He patted his chest, urging his heart to stop freaking out. In the letter, she mentioned she'd be over a little after six, and it was fifteen til.
He scanned his apartment, looking around from room to room. He really needed to clean up. All his life, he used house elves to take care of the manual labor. Now that he was without one, he didn't really know where to start. The loft looked as if a tornado blew through it. Draco had a terrible habit of just throwing things wherever he felt like it. He would use it again, eventually, right? Why put it up when it was already out in the open? Anyway, it wasn't like he had visitors coming in and out of the house.
He picked up the clothes thrown all over the bedroom, looked around, and shoved them into the armoire, telling himself he would deal with it later. Clean bedroom? Check. Well, relatively. Draco, then, made his way over towards the kitchen, grabbing plates and empty bottles of liquor and tossing them into the trash bin. The sound of ceramic dishes breaking into hundreds of pieces caught him off guard. Were they not disposable? He peered in, then shrugged. A problem for another day. Kitchen? Check.
6:00
Crap. There was still so much to clean up! With haste, the wizard made his way into the living room and just as he was about to rearrange the couch cushions, he paused. Wait a minute-why was his doing this the slow way? What got into his head? All the thought of Granger coming over clouded his thoughts. Draco pulled his wand out and with a flick of his wrist, the living room was spotless.
A knock sounded at the door. Granger! His heart was in his throat as he tried to swallow it back down. His mind was, certainly, all over the place today. It wasn't just when he learned she was coming over, but just in general. For some reason, he couldn't stop thinking about the witch. Maybe he was just excited to show her his work. Or, maybe it was due to the lack of sleep.
Yeah, that was probably it. He was just high off caffeine.
Knock. Knock.
Oh! Right, she was at the door. Draco shook his head, snapping back to reality. He took a second to clear his mind.
"Granger," He drawled, greeting her with a blank expression as he opened the door.
The witch stood before him dressed in an oversized red sweater, with a golden lion silhouette stitched in, that reached the middle of her thighs. Her top was paired with sheer grey leggings with ripped holes at the knees, and...were those flip flops? Draco stared at her feet then back at the witch. Did she not have any sense in fashion at all?
"Did you just wake up?" He pointed at her attire, baffled. "You're a mess."
She stared at him. "What?" Then she looked down at herself. "I look fine!" Then back towards Draco. "I look fine!" Her cheeks were tinted in pink as she tried to explain that she 'looked fine.' "Are you going to let me in, or are you just going to critique me all day?"
Draco opened the door further, "Please, don't make yourself too comfortable."
Granger rolled her eyes. "It's good to know your parents instilled manners in you." She stepped through, entering his living quarter. The witch looked around, rendered speechless as she entered the living room, then, taking a quick peek into the kitchen and dining room area, "Your sitting room is bigger than my entire loft!"
"This?" He scoffed, exhaling through his nostrils loudly, "This is the largest room Leaky Cauldron has. It's tiny compared to other places." He'd never admit to Granger that it was all he could afford. He didn't know how long he would be living here, and he needed to budget accordingly, otherwise, Draco would be living in a much fancier apartment. He motioned for the witch to take a seat as he went to fetch his artwork.
Draco made himself comfortable, sitting across from the witch. "You told me to take a break and find my passion."
"You actually listened?" She smiled a big smile.
"Oddly enough." He handed her the sketches. "I designed some concepts for Quidditch. Take a look."
Granger took the drawings and flipped through them, her brows furrowing, "I...I don't know what I'm looking at."
"What are you talking about? My drawings are detailed." He stood up and seated himself next to her on the sofa. "See-this one is an anti-fog goggle." He pointed at the sketch, gesturing at the lenses and the strap.
"What?" She belted out a laugh and covered her mouth, "Oh my gosh! I... I thought it was a bra!" Granger snorted into her hand, and it was Draco's turn to be embarrassed. "I thought this was the cup!"
"You know what -nevermind. You don't need to see the rest of it." He made a move to take his self-proclaimed masterpiece away from her, but she was a split second faster.
"No! No, I'm sorry," Granger tried her best to hold in another laugh, "These sketches are amazing. Really. They really-" She struggled to breathe as she held back her laughter; her body heaving in amusement. "They're really good." She stifled yet another laugh. "What's this one?" She stared at the artwork, "It looks like, hmm...shoes?"
Draco glared daggers at her for a moment. "Close. It's a foot peg. Do they really look like shoes? There's not even -Anyway, you slide the loop through the broomstick, and these ends-" He pointed at the pedals, "When you put your feet on it, they conjure a strap and locks them in at kickoff. This way, you'll have a stable support, and it'll prevent the user from slipping or losing grip."
Her laughter died down when he explained the concept. Granger kept looking between him and the artwork, surprised he'd given so much thought into the add-on.
"These ones," he flipped the page, "are anti-slip gloves. Pretty self-explanatory." Then the next page. "These are accessories. This is untangleable cape-" It was, quite literally, a triangle with a u-cut at the top. "It won't get caught at the end of the broom; it won't tear, and it won't drag against the wind, pulling at the player's neck."
Draco continued explaining each of his designs, and Granger listened earnestly.
"These are really something, Malfoy." She nodded once they circled back to the beginning. When he remained silent, doubtful of her comments, she piped up once more, "I mean it, Malfoy! You have some wicked ideas. I think with some tinkering -we need to figure out which spells work best with which item and make sure they don't deteriorate over time- and it'll be great!"
He sat up a little straighter on the sofa as he puffed out his chest with pride. "You think so?"
"I know so!"
A ghost of a smile crept onto Draco's, usually, expressionless face. "Good."
"Is that it?"
"What do you mean, is that it?"
"I mean, this is great!" She quickly defended herself. "But is there more news that you wanted to tell me? This is what you owled me for?"
"Pretty much."
"Okay, well," Granger set the sketches onto the coffee table, "I've got some news of my own." She stood up and made her way towards the kitchen.
Confused, Draco followed. "What news?"
She turned around; the lighthearted expression she wore while Draco explained his ideas was gone. "Do you want to have a seat?" The witch gestured towards the wooden chair in the dining room. He sat down as he continued to stare at her. "How about a drink?"
Wait -wasn't this his home? Shouldn't he be the one playing host?
"Pick your poison."
It felt as if she drew out the moment on telling him her news. Whether she was hesitant on how to tell him or just wanting him to feel a bit more at ease (with alcohol in his system), he wasn't sure. "Brandy will do."
"Sure." Granger pulled her wand from her satchel. "Accio brandy. Accio cup." The liquor cabinet opened and out came an opened bottle of brandy and a coffee mug from another cupboard. She twisted open the cap and poured a hefty amount of alcohol into the mug.
Draco stared in disbelief. "Is this how you drink at home? Out of a coffee mug?" He scoffed, "I take it Potter and Weasel never got around to teaching you how to serve someone alcohol. I bet they're too busy playing with their wands."
She shot him a glare as he made a jab at her best friends but said nothing when she handed him the mug. How odd. There was always something to say with her.
"Malfoy," she started, her voice filled with heaviness. "I've got some news."
"Yes, you've made it rather clear."
"Well," Granger poured herself a small glass and quickly downed the brandy. She scrunched her face, staring at the bottle. "This thing tastes awful!"
"Get with it, Granger!"
"Right -someone's been stealing money from you."
Her words came out in a blur but it was slow enough for Draco to catch every word. "Come again?"
"Someone's been-"
"No. No, I heard you just fine, but how?" He nearly slammed the mug down, unable to contain this new feeling. His heart was pounding again, but not because he was thinking of Granger, but the thought of someone having the galls to steal from him -it was absolutely preposterous! "I've had the same finance guy for years! He worked with my father before he worked with me."
"It sounds crazy, I know, but hear me out." She pulled out several sheets of parchment from her magical satchel. There was no end to that thing. "I stayed up all night running the numbers. It looked so unreal, I was sure I entered in the wrong things, but it's all here. The calculations are correct. Trust me-I can explain everything to you."
Draco fell back against the splat of the chair. "Bogrod Madoff. I can't believe it..."
Was he stealing from the Malfoy family this entire time?
A/N: For those who don't know, a bundimun is a "greenish, many-eyed pest that feeds on dirt and can destroy a whole house. Their presence is indicated by the foul stench of decay." Courtsey of the .com. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! For those who don't know what a wheelbarrow is...well, hopefully you'll learn something new. ;D
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Empire