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
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N: Boom! Another chapter. I think there was a general consensus that Vernonia Zabini is a cold-hearted beeyotch until it comes to eligible bachelors! Anyway, a bit of a change, so you guys won't go off wondering what's up. I'll be moving my review responses to the bottom for those who don't read them and it'll be less cluttered up here. :) Also, yet another shout out for MrBenzedrine for helping me with this chapter! She added some dialogue and corrected a buttload of mistakes I made. She's going to be releasing a one-shot (a gift for meee!) soon, so keep an eye opened! It's going to be amaaazinngg! Enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 7
Prototyping Relationships
Blaise stumbled through the fireplace, kicking soot all over Draco's wooden floor as he rubbed his face, especially his cheeks, with a look of disgust and contempt melding together. He glared at the blonde sitting on the couch, a book clutched in his hand. Draco returned the glare, his eyes looking down at the mess the Italian made as he stepped through the Floo, uninvited.
What if he had a woman here? He was just going to intrude like that and ruin everything? "Oy, ever heard of knocking?" Draco set the book down next to him, stretching his legs. As much as he feigned annoyance towards Blaise, he would always welcome the man with, metaphorical, open arms.
"It's a floo, Draco," Blaise chided, "How the Hell do you expect me to knock?" With a quick wave of his wand, he cleared the mess, restoring the fireplace to its original state and made his way to the liquor cabinet, fetching himself a glass of scotch. He chose to ignore Draco's comment.
"Oh. Right." Draco scowled, obviously irate at himself for being bested by his own mistake.
"Why would I knock anyways?"
"What if I were in the middle of a shag?"
"Are you in the middle of a shag?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Obviously not." And Merlin, was that ever depressing. "How was your date?" He craned his neck to look at his friend as he poured a hefty amount of liquor. A smirk danced across his lips, noticing the scowl Blaise made at his question. "That bad, huh?"
"What do you think? A date with Millicent fucking Bulstrode. What-" Blaise took a gulp of the scotch, his face grimacing as it burned down his throat, "-do you fucking think?" Another glare was shot over towards Draco as he poured more.
"That scotch's expensive!" he protested. What was it with everyone and trying to swallow his costly liquor?
"Right-I forget, my dear Draco, you're 'broke as fuck,'" Blaise snorted as he sat down on the loveseat adjacent to his friend. "With what you're putting me through, you ought to be buying me the drinks, instead." He slumped against the back cushions, his head sinking into the plush. "I swear, Millicent got bigger since Hogwarts -ever since she started working at the Singing Serpent. You should have seen her!" He gestured using his arms to explain the magnitude of just how big the female Slytherin was. "And her face-" Blaise shuddered as he took another gulp, "looks like a fucking troll."
The blonde chuckled.
"I'm serious! Swear her mother actually shagged one." He lightly smacked his face, rubbing his cheeks once again. "Blimey, she was so big." He shuddered, recounting earlier events. "I had to fend her off with a slab of bacon, otherwise she'd be chomping on my meat next!"
Draco, who had been sipping on his own glass of scotch, spat out his drink, spilling it all over the coffee table and laughed loudly. "Fucking Merlin's beard, is she that bad?" He clutched his stomach as it cramped from his hard laugh. Blaise answered with a snarl, glaring at the blonde. "Here's to… ahahah... taking one for the.. mhmmahaha…. team," he said in between laughs as he held his glass up in the air, though Blaise chose to ignore his friend's toast, and downed the rest of his drink.
While Draco joked about Blaise's unfortunate (and forced) dates with Millicent, he truly appreciated his longtime friend for his unwarranted sacrifice. Since Blaise's reappearance in his life, some color seemed to have returned in his, otherwise, black and white life. He appreciated the simpleness of goading a childhood friend about setting him up with a man-meat craving troll.
"Well," Draco started, setting the glass back on the table and magicking away the splattered alcohol. "You're welcomed to hide here. Bulstrode doesn't know where I live, so you should be fine for the time being."
Blaise kicked a leg up on his knee, crossing it, making himself a little bit more at home. "Where are you headed?" he asked, noticing his friend's sudden advance to the coat rack near the door.
"To visit a certain witch." Draco slipped into a heavy peacoat. The days grew shorter and colder as winter approached, but it was his favorite time of the year. When it snowed, it always reminded him of his younger days, before Hogwarts. Before Voldemort. Before his family's imprisonment, when they were still a family. A sad but unforgettable memory. As he was about to step out into the hall, Draco turned back towards his friend, adding, "Though, do remember: a snake will always find her prey." He shot Blaise a wink, closing the door -but not before hearing the Italian yell out 'sod off!'
He chortled to himself, pulling his coat closely around his frame as he descended down the stairs, passing Tom, the Leaky Cauldron manager, who busily swept the ground floor. The bald man eyed Draco as he walked by, unnoticed, with a peculiar look on his face. The blonde was great at ignoring those who didn't deserve his attention, and even after all these years, he still managed to keep a blank face while he was out and about. Much like his father. But lately, due to various events, each time his mind wandered onto Blaise's situation - because one date wasn't enough to justify all the broken things at the restaurant, or even onto the certain witch he was about to visit - the corner of his lips would twitch upwards. Draco's 'cheerier' mood didn't go unnoticed.
In fact, Tom appreciated whatever was going on right with the young Malfoy's life as it meant he would stop causing ruckus down at the pub at late hours. Word was even whispered about the young Malfoy's livier demeanor. The upcoming holidays must have been rubbing off on him.
A breath of condensation floated before him as the chilly air blasted Draco's face when he stepped out of Leaky Cauldron. He shuddered, rubbing his arms to generate more heat. At least Weasley's Wizard Wheezes wasn't far of a walk. He didn't want to see her. And while Draco, in his mind, insisted on playing the childish game Granger started (which she didn't), he needed to speak to her. Desperately.
"Aah-" There it was. The famous joke shoppe which came back to life due to Granger's amazing skillsets. As much as the thought was doused in sarcasm, Draco knew it very much to be true. It was because of the witch they were so successful. The store sat on the corner of one of the major streets, easily attracting customers. Their window frames coated in bright red with a stupid giant mannequin (resembling too much of Arthur Weasley, Draco thought) topping off his hat. He paused right outside the shop, watching the store's light beam out onto the dark streets of Diagon Alley.
For a moment, the glass doors looked like gates of Heaven as the lights parted the shadows, and he was about to step through.
Tsk. As if a Malfoy would end up in Heaven.
Hermione stood next to George, who wore a ridiculous squid hat. Its tentacles would try to suction onto any passerby and, once, even grabbed onto a woman's breast, earning him a slap across the face. It was worth it, he said to his little brother while rubbing his cheek. The two of them discussed inventory and new upcoming items. Occasionally, Hermione would scribble something down onto her clipboard, her quill much too fancy for the environment she was in.
When the bell above the door jingled (it used to scream, but it scared off the customers, so Hermione had it changed), George glanced up, putting on his best face, extending his arms and puffing his chest. "Welcome to Weasley's-!" but stopped, his arms dropping down with an almost comical smack to his sides.
She looked up from her notepad to see what stopped George. Not a lot of things rendered him speechless.
"Oy!" Ron shouted. "What are you doing here?"
"Is that how you greet all of your customers?" A familiar voice drawled on.
Malfoy? She blinked, craning her neck to get a better view over several heads which were also turned in the direction of the two men at arms. Why would Malfoy be here? Of all places? Was he looking for her? Hermione's heart beat at the thought. It had been a while since they last saw each other. She did say she would owl him but never followed through. There wouldn't have been any other reason for visiting the Weasleys' store.
Hermione pushed through the crowd, making her way towards the front of the store.
"Love what you did with your hair, Weasley." His voice dripped in mockery, making note of Ron's shining bald head. While George embraced his bald head with all its glory, Ron hid it in shame and wore an obviously fake wig. Ron's face reddened as he turned around, noticing his red wig on the ground. "I wonder..." Malfoy continued his antics. "I wonder if the carpet match the drapes…?" He flashed the flustered Ron his charming Malfoy smirk, baring his teeth every so slightly, egging on the fuming bald-head.
Ron's hands balled into fists, shaking, ready to strike their childhood nemesis. Hermione took a step, ready to stop a potential fight between the two, but George, having longer legs, made it there before her, standing in front of Ron just as he lunged forwards and held him back.
"Oy! You don't treat customers that way!" The older Weasley was stern towards his little brother as he grabbed his shoulders. While most only ever saw him as a comical, silly man, George knew when to put his foot down and hold command. Especially if it was going to be in his shoppe. And even though he wasn't a fan of Malfoy, the man was still a potential paying customer. Always please the customers.
"He doesn't belong here!" Ron nearly shouted at George, moving his head to the side to glare daggers at the blonde.
"Watch yourself," he muttered in a serious tone. Ron huffed, not ready to give up, but faltered when George brought up Molly. "Don't make me call Mother over here to give you a piece of her mind."
"Fine." Ron folded his arms, like a stubborn child being denied his recess, and looked the other way. As much as he wanted to pick a fight with Malfoy, he feared the wrath of his mother so much more.
George turned towards Malfoy, who stared at him, a bored expression on his face. "Why don't I show you around?" As the would-have-been fight came to a simmer, the patrons went about their evening as normal -parents showing children toys and friends playing pranks on each other.
Malfoy smacked a fanged frisbee down onto the ground as it came flying towards his face. The thing whimpered as he planted a foot on top of the dangerous toy. "Actually, I'm looking for Granger."
"Hermione?!" Ron piped up once more, moving up and standing next to George. "What do you want with our 'Mione?" His face reddened once more at the mention of the witch.
"Business matters. You wouldn't understand. Above your pay grade, I imagine." He smirked.
"Business matters? What sort of business do you have with her?"
Annoyed with the shorter Weasley's twenty-questions game, Malfoy decided the best way to shut up a stupid weasel would be to shoot him a little insult. Not that the blonde wouldn't enjoy himself. The wizard probably got some sort of high off insulting the Weasleys. "Wouldn't wittle insecure Won-Won like to know? Are you scared I'll steal your little Granger right out of your sticky, sticky fingers? Scared she'll like me more than you?" Malfoy leaned in, speaking low into the man's ear, but they were too far for Hermione to make out any words. Whatever Malfoy said, it pissed Ron off.
"Fucking bugger off, Malfoy!" He gave the blonde a shove before he whipped his head towards Hermione, his eyes a-blazing as he stared at her. "Why are you working with this... this murderer? Did he do something to you? You can tell us!" Her eyes widened as his insult as she looked over at Malfoy, noticing his jaw was clenched. "Ow! George!" Ron gripped the side of his head as his brother chucked Prickle Balls, which were tiny spheres that extended barbed spikes whenever it struck other objects. Prying it off was always a huge pain in the arse. Hermione still didn't understand why it was sold to children. "Ow! Stop it!"
She pursed her lips, watching Ron as he tried to fend off his brother's attack, only to get Prickle Balls stuck in his fingers. Malfoy slipped past the brothers; George now laughing as Ron whined. He did deserve it. No pity for Ron. What a ninny.
"Granger," Malfoy greeted her, staring down at the frizzy haired witch.
"Malfoy," she replied while taking one last glance at the doofuses. "Sorry you had to go through that, and in front of all these people, too. Ron can be a git, sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
A quiet chuckle escaped her lips as she shook her head. "Well, to be honest, almost every day as of late. You said you have some 'business matters' to discuss?" She hugged her clipboard, tucking a quill behind her ear. Having Malfoy here… it made her nervous. Not in a daunting sort of way. The kind of way that made her blood race and her face flush with heat. It was almost flattering that he would resort to coming by her work instead of owling her, instead. Even if she said she would owl first.
"Some things have come up," Draco responded, terse. His hands slipped into the pockets of his peacoat. Was it cold outside? Shoot. She didn't bring a coat.
Hermione waited for a moment, staring at his hands, unsure if he was going to continue on with what he needed help with. And then a light bulb went off in her head. Oh. He wanted privacy. "Right, let's go to my office, shall we?" She gestured with her hand, her palms facing forwards as she pointed towards a door on the other side of the store. He walked next to her, looking around at the various items flying around the shoppe. Some of them even tried to beeline for him, luckily for him - perhaps his years as a Seeker paid off- he'd duck in time to avoid getting hit. Most people would usually get a good bop or two on the sides of their head. Agile. Wasn't that… no. Not attractive. Why would she think such a thing?
When they entered her office, Hermione shut the door, locking it with Colloportus and silencing it with an imperturbable charm she learned from Molly years ago at Grimmauld Place -just in case George and Ron decided they were going to use the extendable ears. And, just for kicks, another deflective spell would come in handy if they tried to come close to the door. A smirk flitted across her lips as she quietly hoped it to go off.
Torturing Ron, regardless of his mood, was beginning to grow on her.
"You what?" The witch standing in front of him gasped after hearing Draco recount his previous event at the Singing Serpent -about how he called out Madoff, how the man let slip the money was actually being stolen, how he was being blackmailed (Draco found it entertaining seeing Granger's cheeks light up at the mention of his financier sleeping with another man), and how he and Blaise blackmailed him as revenge. "I can't believe you did that. Merlin, that could have gone very wrong!"
Hmph. He was sure she would have been a little bit excited as his find. He worked so hard to formulate the plan with Blaise.
"But I'm glad it all worked out," Granger nodded, processing everything through that giant brain of hers. Oh! She was impressed. Good. Coming to the shoppe would have been all for naught if she was just going to reprimand him. "So, what do you plan on doing next?"
"About that," Draco started, running his fingers through his blonde locks."I'm at a loss. It's why I'm here."
Hermione beamed. "You? Need my help?"
"Get with it, Granger," he nearly snapped before remembering, yes, he really needed her help. "Yes," he drawled, rolling his eyes. "Will you please help me?" Was that what she was waiting for?
"Give me a minute, yes?" She smirked, relishing at the fact Draco needed her assistance. As she made way towards the door, dispelling everything, and she stepped out. He could literally see the gears turning in her head as she focused on her task, attempting to formulate a plan.
Well, while she was gone, this was his one chance to snoop around her office -and so Draco did. It was brightly lit with floating candles and lamps scattered throughout the room. The walls were painted in disgusting red with gaudy gold picture frames, garish gold-plated lamps, and gross gold seats to decorate the office. Damn Gryffindors. Always so proud. But other than her awful taste in decor, the room was clean and organized -much like the witch, actually. Not a speck of dust out of place, he thought, running his fingers on the wooden desk.
The fireplace crackled quietly, and Draco shifted his attention towards its direction when he noticed a familiar looking object sitting on the shelf above the furnace. He picked it up, turning it around, recounting where he'd actually seen it when the door opened once more. "Is this...Is this the goggle I designed?" Draco turned to Granger as she closed the door, reapplying the spells.
"Oh, you found it," her voice was quiet. "I, actually, received it just today. I was going to stop by sometime this week. To show you... well, to give it to you. It's the anti-fog goggle you showed me, um, that night." Her cheeks flushed as she was reminded of the drunken evening at Draco's.
Ah, yes. That was.. Quite an evening.
"I accidentally took it when I was gathering my materials, "she continued. Granger figured since she already had a basic sketch of a potential product, she would just go ahead and reach out to the company who manufactured all of the joke shoppe's items and see if they were able to prototype the goggles. A laugh slipped through her lips. "Oh, you won't believe this, but they were so confused at first! They thought I wanted them to make a bra. You should have seen the man's face." Draco's cheeks reddened as he remembered her initial thought. "Don't worry-they thought it was a brilliant idea, though. Once I explained everything to them."
Why would she do this for him? To go out of her way to get some rudimentary sketch prototyped? Without him even asking? To just do it on her own free time? No, no, he wasn't mad. Draco was confused and...and he was happy?
"There's no actual magical properties embedded into the goggles yet," she went on, almost blabbering, but Merlin, he could listen to her talk forever right now. His heart pounded as excitement built up in his chest. This witch -someone he loathed his entire childhood- was helping him, even when he didn't ask for it. What did he do to deserve this? Draco stared down at the goggles; he just couldn't understand her kindness. "But we could get together sometime this week, maybe discuss what would work best with what items? I could introduce you to the manufacturing company as well."
Draco slowly made his way over towards Granger as he continued to stare down at the simply designed goggle. He traced over the product with his fingertips as he tried so hard not to smile.
"Sorry, I didn't ask you before," she panicked as he remained silent. Granger was too pure. Too kind. Too... He looked up, only inches away from her. "I should have asked you, should I?"
"No. Don't... apologize." His hands, moving of their own accord, grasped her arms gently, still managing to keep hold of the goggles, his grey orbs peering into her big doe-like eyes. Were they always brown? "Thank you." His thumbs caressed the sleeves of her blouse.
Her eyes widened at his gratitude. It wasn't very Malfoy-like. It was quite out of place. He never said those two words. At least not to her. "Are you sick?"
"What?" He looked down, realizing he'd nearly pulled Granger into an embrace. "Oh-" he dropped his arms and loudly cleared his throat, looking away awkwardly.
"Um..." Her voice faltered as she looked at the device she brought in earlier from the store, turning it around idly as she glanced back up at Malfoy who refused to look at her now. "So this-" she held it in front of his face, grabbing his attention, "-is a tracking device."
He glanced from the corner of his eyes down to the tiny cylindrical gadget.
"Actually," she laughed. "George designed this. He would always attach it to Angelina -his wife- so he could conveniently bump into her when they were still at Hogwarts." Hermione always thought it was cute, albeit borderline creepy and stalkerish. In her head, she always imagined George just showing up in the middle of the night, right outside the girls' loo, as he 'conveniently' bumped into Angelina.
Still staring at the appliance, Malfoy commented on the older Weasley's wife. "Oh, yes, I remember her. Johnson. She was Gryffindor's Chaser. Damn good one, too." He smirked. "And a pretty thing she was. Shame to learn she married a Weasley."
Miffed, she chose to ignore his comment, though her heart ached for a split second- a familiar feeling of jealousy slithering into her veins. What was she jealous for? It was only Malfoy. Why should she care who he found attractive? It didn't matter.
"Anyway," she snapped him out of his thoughts as she amplified her voice a bit. Hermione waited until he focused his attention onto her once more. The corner of his lips twitched at her response. Was he finding this entertaining? "Let me show you how this works." She chose to ignore his subtle jab at her and yanked the goggle out of his hand, placing the tracker on top of the strap. With a tap of her wand, she muttered, "Invisitatum," and the tracker was rendered invisible. Hermione ran her fingers along the fabric of the strap. The device, literally, untraceable. "Out of sight, out of mind."
Malfoy smirked, fascinated by the object.
"Indicatus." She tapped where the gadget was and it revealed itself, not having actually moved.
"Bloody brilliant!" He nodded, approving her idea. She smiled as her cheeks tinted. "We put this on the money-"
"-then get Madoff to take it to the bank."
"Yes! And we'll follow the device -see where it lands us!" Malfoy's fingers covered his lips as he attempted to hide his smile, excited for their new plan.
"Oh-but there is one drawback," Hermione plucked the device off the goggles, handing the prototype back to Malfoy. His shoulders slumped. "For some stupid reason, George made it so the tracker's magic will last only three days. And then the item will start..." Hermione sighed, almost embarrassed to say it, "shrieking."
"What? Why would he do that?" The blonde groaned, hanging his head. The plan would have otherwise been flawless.
"He thought it would be funny to scare Angelina, and then come to her rescue." Hermione rolled her eyes, though sniggered as she rehashed a story George once told her about the device going off while she was actually using the loo. He received detention for several weeks after that. "Anyway, as long as we can get Madoff to set it off before placing it into the bank, then, hopefully, it should be fine. Assuming they retrieve the money in time."
He took the tracker from Hermione, their fingers coming into contact with each other's briefly and sending electrical jolts up her arm. She snatched her hand back, putting her pointer finger between her lips and pinched the skin. Her brows furrowed, confused. What just happened? What was that shock? Malfoy took no notice of it. Was it just her? She glanced down at her fingers, rubbing the pad of her finger with her thumbnail. How peculiar.
"Perhaps we could figure out a way to change the properties of this thing?" He closed his left eye, lifting the device to his other eye and squinted. Almost as if he was trying to find something Hermione hadn't already tried. The three day limit was always stupid.
"Yeah..." she started, shaking her head, "That's not going to work. You mess with it, and it will explode and douse you with siren's ink."
"Fucking Weasleys."
"Can I keep this?" Draco held the goggle to Granger.
The witch looked at him then back towards the prototype and shrugged. "I had it designed for you anyway."
He slipped the goggle into his oversized pockets, unable to hide his smile. Honestly, it was just about the nicest thing anyone had done for him in...well, it'd been too long, hadn't it? Lately, her kindness was what kept him getting out of bed. He'd never admit it, but he started to look forward to their meetings. He wanted more of it. "Let's schedule something this week, Granger. I can't have my business partner disappear on me for weeks on end." He checked the time; late. "I have to head home."
Blaise was probably still in his apartment, getting tossed off Draco's awfully expensive liquor. Then again, after what Draco put him through, perhaps the man really deserved to get shit-faced. Either way, he didn't want another Granger incident in his loft. Blaise wasn't a pretty witch, and Draco didn't plan on holding back his hair while he puked into his sink.
Granger, quickly, dispelled the door as he reached for the handle. Sparks of the leftover magic fizzed around his fingers as they tried to repel his touch but died out with a puff. And then he remembered a certain angry-faced turnip-head. Draco turned towards the witch, who gathered some documents and was reading through everything. Did she ever stop working? "Granger-"
"Hm?" She kept her eyes on the papers.
"Play along, would you?" He pulled open the door, not giving the woman much time to process his demand. Draco cleared his throat, slipping one hand into the pocket, holding tightly onto the goggle as the other arm went around her shoulders. He wore his best deadpan look.
He felt the witch tense under his touch, and from the corner of his eyes, noticed she held the documents up higher to hide her face. What was she doing? She needed to play along! Draco looked for his target. Ah- there he was, not having really moved much since he entered the store. Though, Draco did notice Weasley was riddled with little pink holes all over his body. Draco smirked, raising a brow as they locked eyes.
Draco leaned into the preoccupied witch, whispering into her ears, "I really like sugar quills," all the while maintaining eye contact with Weasley. He shot a wink his way. Fucking with Weasley was always so entertaining, even after ten years. Oh, Merlin, the turnip-head changed into a plum-head! Was there actually steam coming out of his ears?
He held in a laugh as he watched plum-head's reaction.
What-what did he say?
She heard a whisper coming from Malfoy, but it was his hot breath against her cold skin that made all the hairs on her arms stand. Come to think of it, why was he touching her? Hermione whipped her head in his direction and a gasp left her lips as the tip of their nose brushed against each others. Her body froze and she nearly scattered all the documents onto the floor.
When did he get so close?
What was he doing?
Did he just say he liked sugar quills?
His striking icey-grey eyes snapped onto hers, just as shocked as she was. And the blonde pulled away as he slowly withdrew his arm and straightened his posture. A dash of pink danced across his cheeks as he bade her farewell and left the store in a hurry, leaving Hermione behind and confused with a wildly beating heart.
What just happened?
Why was Ron purple?
@Sherlocked17: I guess you'll have to wait and see. ;)
@HarryGinny4eva: Thank you so much for the compliment! I enjoyed writing Draco and Vernonia's scene. XD And Draco being a bully again. He HAS to have a sidekick. :D The chapter was just so much fun to write and I'm glad you enjoyed reading it!!
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