The Unfortunates
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Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
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32
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37,669
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349
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Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
32
Views:
37,669
Reviews:
349
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Rich Regular
Another chapter, hopefully one a bit more interesting... It\'s unavoidable that certain things has to be established before I can introduce Snape in this... But don\'t worry, he\'s on his way!
---
CHAPTER TWO: THE RICH REGULAR
“Hello, Tom,” she smiled. “Any news?”
Tom shook his head, his eyes sad and voice low. “Nothing, Mira. I know you keep insisting, but – well, I think the posters are just for show. I think he is dead.”
There was one person in Diagon Alley, even at these dark times, which Hermione had found she could trust ever so slightly – Tom the innkeeper. He’d always adored Harry, not to mention friends of Harry’s, and he’d quickly made friends with “Mira” as these new, darker times of the wizarding world had taken over. Had he not been in such a tight spot money-wise, he would even have offered Hermione and Mandy a better place to stay – but as it was, he simply couldn’t afford it.
Hermione had never discussed her political opinions with Mandy, although she felt sure Mandy was just as dedicated to the light as she was. Discussing it with her just didn’t feel right, though. But with Tom, who as an innkeeper picked up more rumours and discreet news than most other people, Hermione could at least ask if there had been a word about Harry or any of the others on the “Most wanted”-lists, and perhaps get something out of it.
“The day I believe that, I’m dead for sure,” said Hermione. “Only one way to keep hope alive, you know.”
He nodded gravely, collecting a few empty glasses off the bar counter. “So how are things with you and Mandy? You two coping okay?”
“Actually, that’s why I’m here,” replied Hermione. “We’re in a bit of a tight spot. You haven’t seen any of my – er – friends around here, have you?”
“Yes, actually I have,” said Tom, though he didn’t look happy about it. “Mr. Malfoy – the son, not the father – checked in this afternoon. Said he’d been on a trip to Russia. Anyway, he had some business to attend to here, was planning on staying for a couple of days...”
“Is he here now?” asked Hermione, feeling a slight tingle of anticipation and nervousness mixed up at the pit of her stomach.
“Haven’t seen him since he arrived,” replied Tom, “though I suppose he should be here somewhere. Stick around, and he’s bound to turn up at some point.”
“Thanks,” nodded Hermione.
“So, can I get you anything while you wait?”
“Oh – no, thanks,” sighed Hermione. “Money, remember?”
“Oh, this one’s on the house, Mira,” said Tom pleasantly and handed her a bottle of butterbeer. Hermione took it gratefully and gave Tom a smile.
The innkeeper hadn’t been wrong. Half an hour later, a very elegant (and rich) looking Draco Malfoy stalked through the entrance doors, glancing around with confidence. People everywhere avoided his gaze.
Readjusting on her bar stool, Hermione made sure most of her legs were visible by throwing her cloak back and pulling the short skirt even a bit higher up than usual... She casually threw her long, red-blond curtain of hair back over her shoulder and made sure Malfoy spotted her. Without obtaining eye contact, she turned her attention back to the bar.
Okay. Serious seduction time, now. Be an actress worthy of an Oscar, Hermione.
He approached the bar, as she knew he would. Taking a seat in the stool next to her, he ordered a drink from Tom and sat staring straight ahead for a while, as though completely unaware of her presence.
It was a clue. Usually he would be rather indiscreet, wrap an arm around her waist and slip a sack of Sickles into her robes – but today, he was sending her a thorough signal. And she caught it.
He wanted to pretend. He wanted to be worshipped. He wanted her to make first contact. It was perfect, really – a true way for her to show her abilities.
“Excuse me, Sir,” she began in a low voice, turning slightly to face him. He looked up at her, acting surprised at her attempt to make contact.
“Sorry to bother you,” smiled Hermione innocently, “but haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”
It was a pathetic line and she knew it, but Malfoy didn’t seem to mind.
“You might have,” he said casually, downing his drink and asking for another one, his eyes flickering from her and back to the bar, as though he wasn’t quite sure if she deserved his undying attention just yet. “You might have seen my picture in the paper... I’m Draco Malfoy,” he added, as though that settled it.
“Are you really?” said Hermione, fascinated. She leaned in a bit closer. “I bet that’s where I’ve seen you... Well, it’s an honour to be face to face with you, Mr. Malfoy.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” said Malfoy casually, now eyeing her with a slight twinkle of interest. He was clearly enjoying this little game, and with good reason. To people who didn’t know their relation to one another, it would look as though a very seductive, willing woman was offering her very soul and body to Malfoy. (It wasn’t the case, of course. He’d never get the soul.)
Malfoy downed his drink and ordered yet another.
“Hard day?” said Hermione casually.
He raised his eyebrows at her.
“Seems a man who needs three drinks in less than five minutes has been through a lot,” she explained innocently.
“Oh, well,” sighed Malfoy, catching on. “I suppose you could say that, yeah. Takes a lot of responsibility, being the son of one of the highest ranking Death Eaters closest to the Dark Lord...”
Hermione made a well calculated dramatic gasp. “That does sound exciting,” she said with a smile. “He’s really that high ranking is he?”
Malfoy nodded. “I’m not doing too bad myself actually... But it’s nothing big.”
“Oh, but it is,” smirked Hermione. “A closer servant of the Dark Lord shouldn’t have such a boring end to such a trying day... Just sitting in this bar, throwing away the rest of the evening?”
Malfoy’s eyebrows went up yet again. “You might have a point,” he said, smirking. “Tell me, whose company do I have the pleasure of keeping?”
Hermione bit back a snort at his pathetic attempt at appearing sophisticated.
“The name’s Mira Gideon,” she said, offering him a hand.
He brought it to his lips and kissed it. To people about the bar, it probably looked enticing – Draco Malfoy, kissing the hand of some unknown woman! To Hermione, it just made him look even more pathetic. But hey, at least it was working.
“Oh, Mr. Malfoy,” she did a pretty good imitation of Lavender Brown’s enthusiastic squeak from back when Seamus had kissed her hand back in sixth year, “you’re too kind... I’m so sorry to hear you’ve had a rough day. Perhaps you would allow me to – well – to make it all better?”
Malfoy didn’t even try to hide his satisfied, smug grin. “If you insist, Mira...”
“I do,” smiled Hermione.
Arm in arm, they withdrew from the bar.
--
“It’s not much to go by, and I can’t promise anything’ll come out of it,” said Tom in a quiet voice, his lips barely moving, “but it’s worth a shot, I s’ppose.”
“Indeed, it is,” said the dark stranger. “Where is she now, do you know?”
“Don’t know for sure,” replied Tom, “but I think she went off with Mr. Draco Malfoy, he was sitting with her at the bar just a few moments ago, anyway.”
“Draco?” said the stranger; his voice revealed a slight hint of surprise. “I see your point, then...”
“Yeah, and it’s not just the Malfoys,” said Tom in an eager whisper. “There’s been plenty other of that... sort... here, picking her up. None as eager as Malfoy, though... But I can’t promise anything, like I said, there’s just a slight chance, you know...”
The stranger nodded. “Thank you. Will you let her know I am looking for her?”
“Which name is that, then?” asked Tom.
“Tiberius,” said the man without hesitating. Then, after a moment, he added: “Tiberius Granger.”
“Granger, now!” said Tom, as though he’d just realized something. “I’ll be sure to let Miss Gideon know, Sir. You have a pleasant evening.”
“Thank you,” said the stranger, and he took off out into Diagon Alley, getting lost in the crowd as though vanishing from the face of the earth in the evening’s darkness.
--
“Well, well, Mira,” he said as he closed the door to his rooms, “you’re certainly full of surprises. Not too stupid, either, it would seem. Clever, clever girl...” He smirked, advancing on her.
Hermione winked at him. “You know I have to keep my clients interested, Mr. Malfoy,” she said seductively.
“Oh, you’ll have a hard time making me uninterested, I can tell you,” said Malfoy smugly, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her body close to his. “Such a carefree little girl as you surely wouldn’t ever dream of letting me down...”
“Carefree, am I?” mused Hermione, teasing his neck with her fingernails.
“Well, aren’t you?”
Hermione smiled. “We’ll get back to that... This is about you, after all, isn’t it? Mr. Malfoy?” she added for an extra effect.
“Indeed it is, thanks for reminding me,” said Malfoy, and captured her mouth forcefully, his hands moving to her buttocks, pulling her even closer.
Hermione responded eagerly to the kiss, her hands roaming his body, determined to make him believe she truly, deeply desired him...
“You’re rather keen tonight,” commented Malfoy as his lips moved to her neck. “I’ll remember that...”
Flattery can indeed get you anywhere – at least where a Malfoy is concerned.
--
“I say it again; you really are full of surprises, Mira,” he sighed, his breath still not quite calmed.
“Thank you,” said Hermione, entangling her legs with his affectionately. “That was the idea – glad you liked it.”
“I most certainly did,” said Malfoy, his hand playing absentmindedly with her waves of hair. “You deserve a rich salary today, I daresay,” he smirked.
“Actually,” said Hermione, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him and gathering all of her courage, “I was thinking we’d strike a deal, Mr. Malfoy...”
“What sort of deal?” asked Malfoy, frowning. He looked ever so slightly suspicious.
“In stead of paying me extra,” said Hermione, “what do you say you recommend me and a friend of mine over at Lilly’s? You know, put in a good word for us...”
Malfoy smirked again. “Oh, Mira, Mira,” he sighed dramatically. “It shows you’re new to this business. I can’t simply go running off to Lilly and shout my appreciation of you to her! Honestly, what do you take me for?”
“Well, I wasn’t asking you to do that, exactly,” said Hermione. “But you could go in there and ask for us, couldn’t you? Me and my roommate Mandy... It would mean the world to me, really – I’ll make it worth your while,” she added with a smile.
“Stop fooling around, Mira. D’you seriously think a Malfoy would ever be spotted in a brothel?” said Malfoy in disbelief. “We do things a little bit more discreetly, thank you so very much.”
“No one would even notice,” insisted Hermione. “And even if they did, what would they say? You’re Draco Malfoy; no one would dare speak a word of it!”
“Wouldn’t you just prefer the cash, girl? Even if I did this, there’s no guarantee Lilly’d come looking for you and your – what d’you call her? – Mandy?”
“There’s a chance,” said Hermione. “It would get us out of our horrible, crummy apartment.”
Draco narrowed his eyes at her.
“Not that that’s any concern of yours, of course,” said Hermione hastily as a form of apology. “I don’t mean to bother you with my problems – I was simply asking you a favour, that’s all.”
“Well, can’t help you there, sorry,” said Malfoy dismissively. After a few seconds of silence, he pulled her into a thorough kiss, which she returned – she had to; if she seemed passive or negative at all her salary would be greatly altered.
Hermione finally pulled away and checked her watch. “Time for me to be going,” she said with a sigh.
Malfoy gave a nod and climbed out of bed, reaching for his robes to get her money. When Hermione was fully dressed, Malfoy handed her a small sack – opening it, Hermione was shocked to see ten Galleons glittering at her.
“Oh, Mr Malfoy,” she said with a smile, “that’s very kind of you.”
“Like I said, you deserve a rich salary for tonight,” he smirked, clearly enjoying a chance to brag about his wealth.
As Hermione went for the door, she heard Malfoy’s voice from behind her.
“Come here tomorrow evening, why don’t you?”
Hesitating at the door, Hermione suddenly saw her chance. If flattery couldn’t get Malfoy to talk to the brothel owner, then perhaps something else could.
“Oh, I don’t know...” she said reluctantly, clutching the door handle. “Mandy and I are behind on the rent, we need to raise enough money by Saturday and there’s just no way that’s going to happen with the amount of time I spend with you... I suppose I’ll have to find clients who aren’t as – well – time consuming as you are, Sir...”
Hermione couldn’t see Malfoy, but she could just imagine the frown she simply knew he now wore.
“I bet I pay you better than any of the others do,” he said after a moment.
“Yes, you do,” agreed Hermione quietly, “but it’s simply not enough for me to get by. I need more clients. I can’t afford to waste time.”
A few seconds passed in silence. Then, as it appeared this tactic wouldn’t work on Malfoy either, Hermione opened the door wide and said, “Good bye, Mr. Malfoy.”
“Wait!”
Hermione hesitated, her face still turned away from him. “Yes?”
He didn’t speak, but a second later Hermione felt a hand clutch at the wrist of the hand which was currently on the door handle.
“If I talk to Lilly about you and your roommate –”
“Yes?”
“Will you come here tomorrow then?”
Hermione suppressed a triumphant smile. “Yes, I think I’ll be able to squeeze you in if you’d do that for us.”
Malfoy’s hand tugged at her wrist, and she was turned around to face him.
“I’ll do that then,” he said determined, his voice firm. “Mira Gideon and Mandy –”
“Brocklehurst,” said Hermione happily. “Put in a good word for us, will you?”
Malfoy nodded, a smirk reaching his lips yet again. “Now, seeing as how all your problems are about to be solved anyway... You could spare me another half an hour, couldn’t you?”
Hermione shut the door again.
--
House of Lilly Barrette’s wasn’t as cosy as it appeared from the outside.
It was located on the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, which sort of suggested that it was appropriate for both streets – mind you, there really wasn’t that much of a difference between the two any more; the two streets had been quite similar ever since Voldemort’s victory. Brothels weren’t illegal anymore (and there were as many as five of them in Diagon Alley), shopkeepers faithful to Dumbledore and the old Ministry had lost their properties, and the businesses located on Knockturn Alley were no longer limited to that particular street.
Now, surrounded by shops that were far more dodgy-looking than any you could have found on Diagon Alley back in the earlier days, House of Lilly Barrette’s didn’t look at all too bad.
But once you were on the inside, your opinion of it would quickly change.
It wasn’t exactly unpleasant – there were nice tables and stuffed armchairs, a crackling fire and a welcoming bar counter with charming, smiling girls serving drinks who greeted you with a cheery “Welcome, Sir/Madam!” when you approached.
No, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the very mood of the house.
To people who didn’t know better, House of Lilly Barrette’s was just a pub. But for most people, it practically oozed of prostitution and men desperate for a shag. In the corners of the pub, elder, pathetic-looking gentlemen were sitting, clutching their firewhiskeys and glaring hungrily at the bar girls, wishing they had enough money to pay for a night.
By the bar, on the other hand, stood most of the men who actually could afford one of Lilly’s girls. They were patting the pockets of their robes, eager to show their wealth and intention, flirting with the bar girls and giving subtle hints.
Draco shuddered. Although he loved the life he was leading nowadays – a wealthy, respected life with power beyond his imagination, being the son of Lucius Malfoy – he couldn’t help but missing a few things about old Wizarding Britain. The elegancy and style that had once been a part of Diagon Alley, for instance.
Now, places like Lilly Barrette’s lowered the whole tone. It was as if taken straight out of an old Charles Dickens novel; an image of the old, tattered London of the 1800s, depressing and always dark, even at noon on a cloud-free day.
This, along with the fact that Draco really saw himself as put above men who had to visit brothels to get laid, was the reason why he hated the prospect of going into House of Lilly Barrette’s.
But there he was, pushing open the door that rang a bell announcing his arrival, his mind set to do as Mira had begged him to last night.
He couldn’t help it. Normally, he would never have caved in at such a request. But this was – well, it was Mira Gideon, wasn’t it? And she was... good. There was no other word for it.
And Draco was first class; practically prince material. He wouldn’t settle for sloppy seconds. Mira was a pureblood, naturally, and highly gifted at her profession. She, unlike other prostitutes Draco had come across, didn’t act like a prostitute at all. It was as if she wasn’t really fit for that job – she was too kind, too eager to show her worth and abilities... Too... well – pure.
Which was why he liked her. She wasn’t stupid, nor did she nag about money or talk about her work. When they were together, it was as if he wasn’t paying at all – it was as if she’d gone with him willingly, wanting him. That’s what he loved.
Women wanting him.
Draco approached the bar with determination, catching the eye of a brunette who immediately rushed over to him, putting aside two empty bottles of butterbeers as she went.
“Hi there, Sir,” she smirked happily. “What can I get you?”
“Nothing,” replied Draco. “I’m here to speak to Lilly.”
“Lilly?” said the girl curiously. “You sure my company’s not enough to keep you satisfied?”
“It’s not Lilly’s company I’m after, it’s a moment of her time,” replied Draco, offering the girl a rare smile. She was kind of cute, in a desperate sort of way.
“Oh, I see,” smiled the girl, then rushed off and disappeared through a door in the back.
Draco knew why she had hesitated – normally, if someone wanted a girl’s company, they would simply hook up with her and take off to a room somewhere. But whenever they asked for Lilly herself, they often wanted something special – or unusual.
A few minutes later, the brunette returned, a rather large lady in deep blue robes following her, eyeing Draco as she went.
“Mr Malfoy,” she said as she’d reached him.
“That’s me,” said Draco.
“Yeah, I saw,” said Lilly Barrette blankly. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m actually here to do a bit of inquiring,” replied Draco.
Lilly Barrette raised an eyebrow, and Draco indicated to the empty bar stool next to his own. She took a seat.
“What about?” asked Barrette curiously.
“Well, I ran into this girl a couple of weeks back,” said Draco in a quiet voice, “and I just can’t seem to get her out of my head. The trouble is, I haven’t been able to relocate her.”
“Is that so?” Barrette said with interest. “You think she’s one of mine, then?”
“Don’t know,” said Draco. “That’s what I’m here to find out.”
“I’ll need a name then, Mr Malfoy.”
“Mira. Mira Gideon.”
Lilly Barrette hesitated for a moment, frowning, as though wondering whether there was at all a slight chance that this Miss Gideon was part of her pack of girls.
“No,” she said at last. “I’m sorry to say, she’s not one of mine.” She really looked sorry, too.
“Pity,” said Draco. “I’ve been looking all over for her. Can’t get her out of my head, you know?”
Barrette smiled and nodded. “Absolutely, Sir...”
Draco stood to leave. “Oh well,” he said, “worth a shot.” He took a few steps towards the door, thinking his work here was finished, when suddenly Mira’s words from the night before reached him.
“Oh,” he said, stopping abruptly. “Actually, she had a friend...”
Lilly Barrette raised her eyebrows in interest. “A friend, Sir?”
“Yeah,” nodded Draco, bringing a hand to his chin, as though trying to remember. “Perhaps she’s one of yours? I wouldn’t mind her either, though Mira would be preferable...”
“The name?”
“Mandy Brocklehurst.”
Barrette sighed yet again. Not this girl either was one of hers, evidently.
“Sorry,” she said to Draco. “Can’t help you there either...”
“Right,” said Draco, turning to leave. “Pity. All this money and no place to spend it, eh?”
With those words, he left, feeling that this time he’d really overdone himself. Mira would be so pleased, and as a result of that, so would he...
---
A/N: Well...? Please let me know, still, if it\'s worthy...!
---
CHAPTER TWO: THE RICH REGULAR
“Hello, Tom,” she smiled. “Any news?”
Tom shook his head, his eyes sad and voice low. “Nothing, Mira. I know you keep insisting, but – well, I think the posters are just for show. I think he is dead.”
There was one person in Diagon Alley, even at these dark times, which Hermione had found she could trust ever so slightly – Tom the innkeeper. He’d always adored Harry, not to mention friends of Harry’s, and he’d quickly made friends with “Mira” as these new, darker times of the wizarding world had taken over. Had he not been in such a tight spot money-wise, he would even have offered Hermione and Mandy a better place to stay – but as it was, he simply couldn’t afford it.
Hermione had never discussed her political opinions with Mandy, although she felt sure Mandy was just as dedicated to the light as she was. Discussing it with her just didn’t feel right, though. But with Tom, who as an innkeeper picked up more rumours and discreet news than most other people, Hermione could at least ask if there had been a word about Harry or any of the others on the “Most wanted”-lists, and perhaps get something out of it.
“The day I believe that, I’m dead for sure,” said Hermione. “Only one way to keep hope alive, you know.”
He nodded gravely, collecting a few empty glasses off the bar counter. “So how are things with you and Mandy? You two coping okay?”
“Actually, that’s why I’m here,” replied Hermione. “We’re in a bit of a tight spot. You haven’t seen any of my – er – friends around here, have you?”
“Yes, actually I have,” said Tom, though he didn’t look happy about it. “Mr. Malfoy – the son, not the father – checked in this afternoon. Said he’d been on a trip to Russia. Anyway, he had some business to attend to here, was planning on staying for a couple of days...”
“Is he here now?” asked Hermione, feeling a slight tingle of anticipation and nervousness mixed up at the pit of her stomach.
“Haven’t seen him since he arrived,” replied Tom, “though I suppose he should be here somewhere. Stick around, and he’s bound to turn up at some point.”
“Thanks,” nodded Hermione.
“So, can I get you anything while you wait?”
“Oh – no, thanks,” sighed Hermione. “Money, remember?”
“Oh, this one’s on the house, Mira,” said Tom pleasantly and handed her a bottle of butterbeer. Hermione took it gratefully and gave Tom a smile.
The innkeeper hadn’t been wrong. Half an hour later, a very elegant (and rich) looking Draco Malfoy stalked through the entrance doors, glancing around with confidence. People everywhere avoided his gaze.
Readjusting on her bar stool, Hermione made sure most of her legs were visible by throwing her cloak back and pulling the short skirt even a bit higher up than usual... She casually threw her long, red-blond curtain of hair back over her shoulder and made sure Malfoy spotted her. Without obtaining eye contact, she turned her attention back to the bar.
Okay. Serious seduction time, now. Be an actress worthy of an Oscar, Hermione.
He approached the bar, as she knew he would. Taking a seat in the stool next to her, he ordered a drink from Tom and sat staring straight ahead for a while, as though completely unaware of her presence.
It was a clue. Usually he would be rather indiscreet, wrap an arm around her waist and slip a sack of Sickles into her robes – but today, he was sending her a thorough signal. And she caught it.
He wanted to pretend. He wanted to be worshipped. He wanted her to make first contact. It was perfect, really – a true way for her to show her abilities.
“Excuse me, Sir,” she began in a low voice, turning slightly to face him. He looked up at her, acting surprised at her attempt to make contact.
“Sorry to bother you,” smiled Hermione innocently, “but haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”
It was a pathetic line and she knew it, but Malfoy didn’t seem to mind.
“You might have,” he said casually, downing his drink and asking for another one, his eyes flickering from her and back to the bar, as though he wasn’t quite sure if she deserved his undying attention just yet. “You might have seen my picture in the paper... I’m Draco Malfoy,” he added, as though that settled it.
“Are you really?” said Hermione, fascinated. She leaned in a bit closer. “I bet that’s where I’ve seen you... Well, it’s an honour to be face to face with you, Mr. Malfoy.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” said Malfoy casually, now eyeing her with a slight twinkle of interest. He was clearly enjoying this little game, and with good reason. To people who didn’t know their relation to one another, it would look as though a very seductive, willing woman was offering her very soul and body to Malfoy. (It wasn’t the case, of course. He’d never get the soul.)
Malfoy downed his drink and ordered yet another.
“Hard day?” said Hermione casually.
He raised his eyebrows at her.
“Seems a man who needs three drinks in less than five minutes has been through a lot,” she explained innocently.
“Oh, well,” sighed Malfoy, catching on. “I suppose you could say that, yeah. Takes a lot of responsibility, being the son of one of the highest ranking Death Eaters closest to the Dark Lord...”
Hermione made a well calculated dramatic gasp. “That does sound exciting,” she said with a smile. “He’s really that high ranking is he?”
Malfoy nodded. “I’m not doing too bad myself actually... But it’s nothing big.”
“Oh, but it is,” smirked Hermione. “A closer servant of the Dark Lord shouldn’t have such a boring end to such a trying day... Just sitting in this bar, throwing away the rest of the evening?”
Malfoy’s eyebrows went up yet again. “You might have a point,” he said, smirking. “Tell me, whose company do I have the pleasure of keeping?”
Hermione bit back a snort at his pathetic attempt at appearing sophisticated.
“The name’s Mira Gideon,” she said, offering him a hand.
He brought it to his lips and kissed it. To people about the bar, it probably looked enticing – Draco Malfoy, kissing the hand of some unknown woman! To Hermione, it just made him look even more pathetic. But hey, at least it was working.
“Oh, Mr. Malfoy,” she did a pretty good imitation of Lavender Brown’s enthusiastic squeak from back when Seamus had kissed her hand back in sixth year, “you’re too kind... I’m so sorry to hear you’ve had a rough day. Perhaps you would allow me to – well – to make it all better?”
Malfoy didn’t even try to hide his satisfied, smug grin. “If you insist, Mira...”
“I do,” smiled Hermione.
Arm in arm, they withdrew from the bar.
--
“It’s not much to go by, and I can’t promise anything’ll come out of it,” said Tom in a quiet voice, his lips barely moving, “but it’s worth a shot, I s’ppose.”
“Indeed, it is,” said the dark stranger. “Where is she now, do you know?”
“Don’t know for sure,” replied Tom, “but I think she went off with Mr. Draco Malfoy, he was sitting with her at the bar just a few moments ago, anyway.”
“Draco?” said the stranger; his voice revealed a slight hint of surprise. “I see your point, then...”
“Yeah, and it’s not just the Malfoys,” said Tom in an eager whisper. “There’s been plenty other of that... sort... here, picking her up. None as eager as Malfoy, though... But I can’t promise anything, like I said, there’s just a slight chance, you know...”
The stranger nodded. “Thank you. Will you let her know I am looking for her?”
“Which name is that, then?” asked Tom.
“Tiberius,” said the man without hesitating. Then, after a moment, he added: “Tiberius Granger.”
“Granger, now!” said Tom, as though he’d just realized something. “I’ll be sure to let Miss Gideon know, Sir. You have a pleasant evening.”
“Thank you,” said the stranger, and he took off out into Diagon Alley, getting lost in the crowd as though vanishing from the face of the earth in the evening’s darkness.
--
“Well, well, Mira,” he said as he closed the door to his rooms, “you’re certainly full of surprises. Not too stupid, either, it would seem. Clever, clever girl...” He smirked, advancing on her.
Hermione winked at him. “You know I have to keep my clients interested, Mr. Malfoy,” she said seductively.
“Oh, you’ll have a hard time making me uninterested, I can tell you,” said Malfoy smugly, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her body close to his. “Such a carefree little girl as you surely wouldn’t ever dream of letting me down...”
“Carefree, am I?” mused Hermione, teasing his neck with her fingernails.
“Well, aren’t you?”
Hermione smiled. “We’ll get back to that... This is about you, after all, isn’t it? Mr. Malfoy?” she added for an extra effect.
“Indeed it is, thanks for reminding me,” said Malfoy, and captured her mouth forcefully, his hands moving to her buttocks, pulling her even closer.
Hermione responded eagerly to the kiss, her hands roaming his body, determined to make him believe she truly, deeply desired him...
“You’re rather keen tonight,” commented Malfoy as his lips moved to her neck. “I’ll remember that...”
Flattery can indeed get you anywhere – at least where a Malfoy is concerned.
--
“I say it again; you really are full of surprises, Mira,” he sighed, his breath still not quite calmed.
“Thank you,” said Hermione, entangling her legs with his affectionately. “That was the idea – glad you liked it.”
“I most certainly did,” said Malfoy, his hand playing absentmindedly with her waves of hair. “You deserve a rich salary today, I daresay,” he smirked.
“Actually,” said Hermione, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him and gathering all of her courage, “I was thinking we’d strike a deal, Mr. Malfoy...”
“What sort of deal?” asked Malfoy, frowning. He looked ever so slightly suspicious.
“In stead of paying me extra,” said Hermione, “what do you say you recommend me and a friend of mine over at Lilly’s? You know, put in a good word for us...”
Malfoy smirked again. “Oh, Mira, Mira,” he sighed dramatically. “It shows you’re new to this business. I can’t simply go running off to Lilly and shout my appreciation of you to her! Honestly, what do you take me for?”
“Well, I wasn’t asking you to do that, exactly,” said Hermione. “But you could go in there and ask for us, couldn’t you? Me and my roommate Mandy... It would mean the world to me, really – I’ll make it worth your while,” she added with a smile.
“Stop fooling around, Mira. D’you seriously think a Malfoy would ever be spotted in a brothel?” said Malfoy in disbelief. “We do things a little bit more discreetly, thank you so very much.”
“No one would even notice,” insisted Hermione. “And even if they did, what would they say? You’re Draco Malfoy; no one would dare speak a word of it!”
“Wouldn’t you just prefer the cash, girl? Even if I did this, there’s no guarantee Lilly’d come looking for you and your – what d’you call her? – Mandy?”
“There’s a chance,” said Hermione. “It would get us out of our horrible, crummy apartment.”
Draco narrowed his eyes at her.
“Not that that’s any concern of yours, of course,” said Hermione hastily as a form of apology. “I don’t mean to bother you with my problems – I was simply asking you a favour, that’s all.”
“Well, can’t help you there, sorry,” said Malfoy dismissively. After a few seconds of silence, he pulled her into a thorough kiss, which she returned – she had to; if she seemed passive or negative at all her salary would be greatly altered.
Hermione finally pulled away and checked her watch. “Time for me to be going,” she said with a sigh.
Malfoy gave a nod and climbed out of bed, reaching for his robes to get her money. When Hermione was fully dressed, Malfoy handed her a small sack – opening it, Hermione was shocked to see ten Galleons glittering at her.
“Oh, Mr Malfoy,” she said with a smile, “that’s very kind of you.”
“Like I said, you deserve a rich salary for tonight,” he smirked, clearly enjoying a chance to brag about his wealth.
As Hermione went for the door, she heard Malfoy’s voice from behind her.
“Come here tomorrow evening, why don’t you?”
Hesitating at the door, Hermione suddenly saw her chance. If flattery couldn’t get Malfoy to talk to the brothel owner, then perhaps something else could.
“Oh, I don’t know...” she said reluctantly, clutching the door handle. “Mandy and I are behind on the rent, we need to raise enough money by Saturday and there’s just no way that’s going to happen with the amount of time I spend with you... I suppose I’ll have to find clients who aren’t as – well – time consuming as you are, Sir...”
Hermione couldn’t see Malfoy, but she could just imagine the frown she simply knew he now wore.
“I bet I pay you better than any of the others do,” he said after a moment.
“Yes, you do,” agreed Hermione quietly, “but it’s simply not enough for me to get by. I need more clients. I can’t afford to waste time.”
A few seconds passed in silence. Then, as it appeared this tactic wouldn’t work on Malfoy either, Hermione opened the door wide and said, “Good bye, Mr. Malfoy.”
“Wait!”
Hermione hesitated, her face still turned away from him. “Yes?”
He didn’t speak, but a second later Hermione felt a hand clutch at the wrist of the hand which was currently on the door handle.
“If I talk to Lilly about you and your roommate –”
“Yes?”
“Will you come here tomorrow then?”
Hermione suppressed a triumphant smile. “Yes, I think I’ll be able to squeeze you in if you’d do that for us.”
Malfoy’s hand tugged at her wrist, and she was turned around to face him.
“I’ll do that then,” he said determined, his voice firm. “Mira Gideon and Mandy –”
“Brocklehurst,” said Hermione happily. “Put in a good word for us, will you?”
Malfoy nodded, a smirk reaching his lips yet again. “Now, seeing as how all your problems are about to be solved anyway... You could spare me another half an hour, couldn’t you?”
Hermione shut the door again.
--
House of Lilly Barrette’s wasn’t as cosy as it appeared from the outside.
It was located on the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, which sort of suggested that it was appropriate for both streets – mind you, there really wasn’t that much of a difference between the two any more; the two streets had been quite similar ever since Voldemort’s victory. Brothels weren’t illegal anymore (and there were as many as five of them in Diagon Alley), shopkeepers faithful to Dumbledore and the old Ministry had lost their properties, and the businesses located on Knockturn Alley were no longer limited to that particular street.
Now, surrounded by shops that were far more dodgy-looking than any you could have found on Diagon Alley back in the earlier days, House of Lilly Barrette’s didn’t look at all too bad.
But once you were on the inside, your opinion of it would quickly change.
It wasn’t exactly unpleasant – there were nice tables and stuffed armchairs, a crackling fire and a welcoming bar counter with charming, smiling girls serving drinks who greeted you with a cheery “Welcome, Sir/Madam!” when you approached.
No, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the very mood of the house.
To people who didn’t know better, House of Lilly Barrette’s was just a pub. But for most people, it practically oozed of prostitution and men desperate for a shag. In the corners of the pub, elder, pathetic-looking gentlemen were sitting, clutching their firewhiskeys and glaring hungrily at the bar girls, wishing they had enough money to pay for a night.
By the bar, on the other hand, stood most of the men who actually could afford one of Lilly’s girls. They were patting the pockets of their robes, eager to show their wealth and intention, flirting with the bar girls and giving subtle hints.
Draco shuddered. Although he loved the life he was leading nowadays – a wealthy, respected life with power beyond his imagination, being the son of Lucius Malfoy – he couldn’t help but missing a few things about old Wizarding Britain. The elegancy and style that had once been a part of Diagon Alley, for instance.
Now, places like Lilly Barrette’s lowered the whole tone. It was as if taken straight out of an old Charles Dickens novel; an image of the old, tattered London of the 1800s, depressing and always dark, even at noon on a cloud-free day.
This, along with the fact that Draco really saw himself as put above men who had to visit brothels to get laid, was the reason why he hated the prospect of going into House of Lilly Barrette’s.
But there he was, pushing open the door that rang a bell announcing his arrival, his mind set to do as Mira had begged him to last night.
He couldn’t help it. Normally, he would never have caved in at such a request. But this was – well, it was Mira Gideon, wasn’t it? And she was... good. There was no other word for it.
And Draco was first class; practically prince material. He wouldn’t settle for sloppy seconds. Mira was a pureblood, naturally, and highly gifted at her profession. She, unlike other prostitutes Draco had come across, didn’t act like a prostitute at all. It was as if she wasn’t really fit for that job – she was too kind, too eager to show her worth and abilities... Too... well – pure.
Which was why he liked her. She wasn’t stupid, nor did she nag about money or talk about her work. When they were together, it was as if he wasn’t paying at all – it was as if she’d gone with him willingly, wanting him. That’s what he loved.
Women wanting him.
Draco approached the bar with determination, catching the eye of a brunette who immediately rushed over to him, putting aside two empty bottles of butterbeers as she went.
“Hi there, Sir,” she smirked happily. “What can I get you?”
“Nothing,” replied Draco. “I’m here to speak to Lilly.”
“Lilly?” said the girl curiously. “You sure my company’s not enough to keep you satisfied?”
“It’s not Lilly’s company I’m after, it’s a moment of her time,” replied Draco, offering the girl a rare smile. She was kind of cute, in a desperate sort of way.
“Oh, I see,” smiled the girl, then rushed off and disappeared through a door in the back.
Draco knew why she had hesitated – normally, if someone wanted a girl’s company, they would simply hook up with her and take off to a room somewhere. But whenever they asked for Lilly herself, they often wanted something special – or unusual.
A few minutes later, the brunette returned, a rather large lady in deep blue robes following her, eyeing Draco as she went.
“Mr Malfoy,” she said as she’d reached him.
“That’s me,” said Draco.
“Yeah, I saw,” said Lilly Barrette blankly. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m actually here to do a bit of inquiring,” replied Draco.
Lilly Barrette raised an eyebrow, and Draco indicated to the empty bar stool next to his own. She took a seat.
“What about?” asked Barrette curiously.
“Well, I ran into this girl a couple of weeks back,” said Draco in a quiet voice, “and I just can’t seem to get her out of my head. The trouble is, I haven’t been able to relocate her.”
“Is that so?” Barrette said with interest. “You think she’s one of mine, then?”
“Don’t know,” said Draco. “That’s what I’m here to find out.”
“I’ll need a name then, Mr Malfoy.”
“Mira. Mira Gideon.”
Lilly Barrette hesitated for a moment, frowning, as though wondering whether there was at all a slight chance that this Miss Gideon was part of her pack of girls.
“No,” she said at last. “I’m sorry to say, she’s not one of mine.” She really looked sorry, too.
“Pity,” said Draco. “I’ve been looking all over for her. Can’t get her out of my head, you know?”
Barrette smiled and nodded. “Absolutely, Sir...”
Draco stood to leave. “Oh well,” he said, “worth a shot.” He took a few steps towards the door, thinking his work here was finished, when suddenly Mira’s words from the night before reached him.
“Oh,” he said, stopping abruptly. “Actually, she had a friend...”
Lilly Barrette raised her eyebrows in interest. “A friend, Sir?”
“Yeah,” nodded Draco, bringing a hand to his chin, as though trying to remember. “Perhaps she’s one of yours? I wouldn’t mind her either, though Mira would be preferable...”
“The name?”
“Mandy Brocklehurst.”
Barrette sighed yet again. Not this girl either was one of hers, evidently.
“Sorry,” she said to Draco. “Can’t help you there either...”
“Right,” said Draco, turning to leave. “Pity. All this money and no place to spend it, eh?”
With those words, he left, feeling that this time he’d really overdone himself. Mira would be so pleased, and as a result of that, so would he...
---
A/N: Well...? Please let me know, still, if it\'s worthy...!