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A/N: Your patience is unbelievable. Ten points to whomever catches the very obvious Princess Bride reference.
Hugs and kisses to my fabulous beta Lorett who would not let me skate by with a shorter chapter – her persistence paid off and you all owe her for if it weren't for her hard work, this chapter wouldn't be here.
Customer Satisfaction
A couple days earlier . . .
"Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy – err, Ms. Granger – I would like to introduce you to my daughter: Bianca."
"Draco, dah-ling . . . kisses!"
"Bianca?"
"Yes of course, who did you expect? Sebastian Clarke has only one daughter – me – voila!"
"Err, yes of course. I do believe you know my wi- err, my – Hermione?"
"Hermione, yes of course. I almost didn't see you there. Did you do something to your hair? It's different, not so bushy, I hardly recognized you – you've changed so much since last we met. Oh, but you still have that skirt, don't you? Oh yes – you two got married, did you not? Of course, I read about in the paper. I can't tell you I wasn't shocked – yes, it's true – but seeing you here together, well – no I suppose it doesn't make much sense, but there you are . . . Congratulations."
"Excuse me?"
"Aha, what my wife means to say is 'thank you', Bianca."
"Oh, I see. You're welcome, Hermione. I envy you, really – trying to balance a fledgling career and a husband – whom I think we both know is quite high maintenance –"
"Hey!"
"- nonsense dah-ling, of course you are – it's really quite difficult and I'm not sure I could sacrifice the time and energy, because of course, some things have to go – like your figure, for example – you can't have it all. But yes, I envy you for trying. I know I wouldn't be able to give up so much, but I'm glad that you can."
". . ."
"Haha, right – great, thanks Bianca. Well, let me – err – sign this paper – there we go, great! We're done here; I'll see you both next week. Grand – Hermione, shall we?"
"Merlin yes – I mean, take care Mr. Clarke, we'll discuss things further on Monday. Bianca, um, it was nice . . . have a nice day."
"Smooches!"
"So . . . that was a surprise."
". . ."
"Hermione?"
"I don't want to talk to you right now."
"What? Why?"
"You know why."
"No, I don't. Honest."
"'My wi-err-my, Hermione' . . . I can't believe you wouldn't call me your wife and what's more, I can't believe you didn't tell me that Bianca is Sebastian Clarke's daughter! I felt like an idiot in there. I just can't believe –"
"Wait a minute, you thought I knew? I didn't know that his daughter was Bianca! He's a short, balding, ugly son-of-a-witch and Bianca is tall, gorgeous –"
"Excuse me?"
"I mean to say that she doesn't look anything like her father. They don't even have the same last name! How was I supposed to know?"
"Well you did date her after all and of course they don't have the same name – Valentino is her stage name since she's a model, after all. Well, used to be. Merlin, I can't believe she's our new PR Director . . ."
"I know; who knew she could even read?"
"And you! I can't believe this – you – that you didn't know . . . I'm angry Draco, very angry."
"Clearly . . ."
"WHAT?"
"I said 'dearly' but you didn't let me finish . . . Dearly beloved, it's going to be fine. You will hardly see her – she'll be with Zabini most of the time . . . Haha, she'll be with Zabini most of the time, oh I like that . . . Pansy'll hate it – she hates her!"
"I don't like this. I don't like this at all, Draco."
". . . and then she told me that I can't go out wearing that because black and brown don't match, which makes no sense at all because every African I know has brown eyes and black hair and they look perfectly fine. Don't you think that's a bit ridiculous of her? I mean, what's so bad about wearing a brown vest with black trousers? It's just clothes. . . But it's because she works at a retail store, she thinks she knows fashion now . . . She never had a problem with what I was wearing before we got engaged. But ever since I put a ring on her little finger, she thinks I should impress her or something . . . like saving the world isn't good enough for her anymore -"
"Err, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes?"
"It sounds to me like you and Miss Weasley are just discovering how to live with each other in close proximity. Getting engaged is a very serious step and you two are learning how to grow with one another towards a marriage; situations like this will arise and you'll find yourself annoyed with every little thing she does, and she of you. It's quite normal."
"I see. So I'm not being paranoid? She's just reacting to the living situation?"
"That's all."
"Oh. Are you sure she's not pregnant? It's not some hormonal –"
"Of course I can't tell you whether she's pregnant or not without an exam, but it does not sound like a reaction to a hormonal imbalance."
"Right. . ."
"And, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes?"
"You know you don't have to come in anymore? Our sessions have technically been unneeded for one year. The Ministry ordained post-war psychological observance period has been completed and you passed with flying colors. We don't have to meet anymore. You're quite adjusted."
"Are you trying to get rid of me, Dr. Spencer? Am I not welcome here anymore?."
"Of course not, Mr. Potter. I thoroughly enjoy our sessions. I went through my notes of our meetings after last week's session and I noticed your progress and I believe we've reached a plateau in your growth. You've achieved great stability and balance – the only reason why you think you need to come in is due to the familiarity of the situation. It is difficult to adjust to change, but I have the utmost confidence that you would do just as well without me in your life, as in it."
"I see what you mean. . ."
"But?"
Well, I sort of like it here. You have the most comfortable sofa I've ever sat upon and . . . Dr. Spencer?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think there's such a thing as the fashion police?"
"Time's up, Mr. Potter."
". . . Director of Public Relations? Are you kidding me? She can't even tie her shoes and she's supposed to be in charge of PR? You should see the entourage this witch has – FIVE elves! Five of the most annoying, high pitched, nasally, screeching elves to ever have walked this earth and they are all sitting in my office at this moment, redecorating my shelves. The shelves Pansy spent hours perfecting. You owe me, Malfoy. You OWE me. And, damnit, get this Valentino witch HER OWN OFFICE! BEEP!"
"Initially, I was shocked."
"What shocked you?"
"Mostly that some mental reporter out there was sorry Malfoy went off and got married and the fact that there were other people in the world that cared too. Who cares about Malfoy? Really?"
"Hmm, I see. Actually, what I meant was how you felt after you read the news that you were the next most sought after bachelor? How did that make you feel?"
"Oh, well, simply wonderful! Who wouldn't? Who wouldn't want to find out that you were the most sought after bachelor in the world? It's every bloke's dream. I've got my picture on every magazine, in every paper. Women stop me on the street and ask me to sign autographs for them. You wouldn't believe what this one witch wanted me to sign . . . And the calls and invitations and letters, they just keep coming in! It won't stop!"
"So what seems to be the problem? You've finally received the recognition you've always wanted."
"Malfoy."
"Malfoy?"
"Malfoy."
"Mr. Malfoy is your problem?"
"He's THE problem."
"Explain."
"Well, it's like this: he has everything. Everything, I mean it – and not just loads of stuff; think of anything, he has it. He's like that muggle doll, Barb-something-or-other, who has everything? Yeah, he's her. Everything."
"So what I'm hearing is that Mr. Malfoy has a lot of possessions? And this makes you upset?"
"No, I don't care about his stuff. It's just the whole nature of it all that brasses me off. Think about Harry – Harry's got a lot of stuff, right? Fame, fortune, a fiancé, what have you – he's got it all, so to speak. But now that things have cooled off, the war is over, and he's getting married, things have calmed down around here. You only see him on the cover of five of nine magazines now, instead of all of them. He's settled, everyone else is settling with him. None of that bothers me."
"I see, so with Mr. Malfoy –"
"Well that's just it! With Malfoy, things aren't settling! He's married, not even engaged, but married, and the whole damned world is turned upside down because of it. What magazine Harry isn't on, he is – and all the newspapers are writing his life story like he's the greatest thing since, since . . . well, since Harry! He's nothing special. There's nothing great about that ugly albino – nothing to write home about. And now when it's my turn to be in the spotlight, I have to share it with Malfoy!"
"Mr. Weasley, if I may interrupt?"
"And sodding Malfoy already has everything; the fortune, the mansion, his own company, his ugly mug on every magazine cover, and now he has Hermione. Hermione! The Hermione! I was supposed to end up with Hermione, not that filthy little ferret."
"So all this is about Miss Granger? You're upset that Miss Granger married Mr. Malfoy, instead of you?"
"No."
"No?"
"Not really. I mean, I love Hermione, but I don't really want to marry her – nags too much, you see? But had I known she would end up with an F.O.U.S., I'd have married her ages ago."
"F.O.U.S.?"
"Ferret of unusual size."
"Ah."
"So like I said, I'd have married her ages ago to at least save her the agony of being married to Malfoy."
"I see."
"You see?"
"Yes, I see. . . Tell me, Mr. Weasley, how long have you been in love with Mr. Malfoy?"
". . . Zabini, just call this retribution for the desk incident. Deal with her on your own; get her an office then show her the ropes – in fact, teach her to hang herself. BEEP!"
"That's right."
"Your ex-girlfriend?"
"Yes."
"Interesting. . ."
"Interesting? All you have to say is interesting? It's a bloody mess, is what it is. How the hell was I supposed to know she was the daughter of Sebastian Clarke? They don't look a thing alike! They don't even have the same name!"
"Her family name never came up in conversation?"
"We didn't spend much of that time in conversation, Doctor. She's not the type of woman who stimulates one intellectually, rather -"
" -I understand, Mr. Malfoy. . . . How is your wife handling the situation?"
"My wife? You mean she-who-will-not-talk-to-me? Oh she's taking things great. Superb. Smashing. She'll have nothing to do with me. She thinks I knew all about Bianca and this whole mess is my fault."
"How long were you and Miss Valentino together?"
"About a month."
"And during all that time you never spoke about her father, his company, and her position?"
"The only positions we discussed were a matter of where and when . . ."
"Ahem, I see. So this event truly came to you as a surprise?"
"That's what I've been saying this whole time. Hermione just doesn't get it. "
"Have you considered stepping into your wife's shoes for a moment? To see how she views the situation?"
" . . ."
"Mr. Malfoy, your wife has undergone a great upheaval. Within a short span of mere months she'd lost her job, been hired by her childhood nemesis, grown feelings for said nemesis, watched him flaunt himself around public with a model on his arm, then suddenly ends up in a whirlwind love affair that results in her marriage to her nemesis. The media and the pressure surrounding not only her marriage but the company merger have taken a toll on her sensibilities. Add to that the fact that her husband's ex-model ex-girlfriend is now a key player in the merger and when she thought competing for your attention was over, she's brutally mistaken. Try to imagine how she's feeling. . ."
". . ."
"Mr. Malfoy?"
"No, I don't think that's it at all. Maybe she's pregnant? I heard it from a reliable source that women go stark raving mad when their hormones are experiencing an upheaval. . ."
". . ."
"Dr. Spencer?"
"I think we need to start keeping a journal again, Mr. Malfoy. Only this time, I want you to catalogue every interaction you have with your wife and her response. Do this for one week."
" . . . Mrs. Malfoy, this is Stephanie from Dr. Spencer's office. He would like to invite you and Mr. Malfoy to a trial couple's therapy session, free of charge, this Friday at two. If you are unable to attend, please return our call, otherwise we will see you Friday at two. Cheers. BEEP!"
Hermione,
My office. Posthaste.
Draco
H,
And by posthaste I meant NOW.
D
H,
Perhaps you missed my last note and the one before it. Birds are unreliable, after all – take that flock of robins that attacked me earlier this morning – quite the erratic species and I still can't recall why they were on the third floor to begin with . . .
I digress.
My office pronto!
D
H,
I had assumed you learned Spanish. Apparently I was mistaken.
Pronto means now. Which means I wanted you here ten minutes ago.
D
H,
Oh why do you try my patience so?
D
Malfoy,
I've been noticing a one way trail of M.E.M.O.s flying towards Hermione's office. Trouble with the missus? Not that I can blame her – you are an intolerant wanker . . .
Zabini
Hermione,
Please come to see me. You're making me look bad in front of Zabini and you know how much I hate that.
Draco.
P.S. I said the magic word. You have to come now.
Z,
You're the intolerant wanker. I still can't understand why Pansy passed up this (i.e. ME) for you – but don't think I'm complaining. I'd dig my own grave and bury myself in it if I'd ended up with that banshee. You definitely got the short end of the stick in this case.
M
M,
I may have received the short end of the stick, but at least my stick isn't as short as yours. . . . Or so my beautiful, talented, loving, devoted, blissfully pregnant wife told me.
Z
P.S. Just because you're upset at Granger doesn't mean you can take out your feelings on me . . . sod.
Z,
I'll forgive you for your insolence if you'll find a way to solve my problem with Granger.
M
M,
Solve your own problems, loser. That's what married life is all about- fighting and make up sex . . . which are two things you and Granger are already quite adept at. Go apologize to her and don't forget to cast the silencing charm.
Z
Anodyne28: Automatic Away Message: "I am currently busy but leave a message and I'll try to respond when I'm free."
TheMAN: Hermione . . . You are not busy. It's twelve o'clock which means that for the next fifteen minutes you will be sitting at your desk eating a roast beef and horse radish sandwich, drinking earl grey and listening to the Wizard Wireless.
TheMAN: . . .
TheMAN: HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE HERMIONE
Anodyne28: Oh for goodness' sake! Can't a girl eat in peace around here? Didn't you read the away message? I am BUSY!
TheMAN: Why are you ignoring me?
Anodyne28: I'm not ignoring you. I'm trying to eat my lunch in peace. This is the only time I have to myself today and I was hoping to relax.
TheMAN: Well if you need to relax, I know a couple of good ways to -
Anodyne28: Draco, it's not Wednesday!
TheMAN: Hey you promised me – anytime, anywhere and I want to collect.
Anodyne28: I don't want to. I'm mad at you.
TheMAN: Aha! So you are mad!
Anodyne28: Well of course I'm mad, numbskull – do you think I attacked you with robins because I like you?
TheMAN: That was YOU?
Anodyne28: Who'd you think it was?
TheMAN: I don't know, but some poor sod on the third floor got fired because of your actions. Don't you feel guilty?
Anodyne28: Not a bit – hire him back and give him a bonus.
TheMAN: And if I refuse?
Anodyne28: You won't.
TheMAN: What makes you so sure?
Anodyne28: I'll invite Georgia over for tea.
TheMAN: And how does that affect me? I'll just leave.
Anodyne28: Ah, but then she'll have our address and an open invitation to drop by any time. . .
TheMAN: You are a mean and cruel woman. The Ministry should award me for the capture and domestication of one of their most evasive fiends – the grievous personal injuries to my body and character have been most painful indeed.
Anodyne28: When they come up with The Most Unappreciative and Disrespectful Sod of a Husband Medal of Dishonor I'll let you know.
TheMAN: And don't forget Devastatingly Handsome.
Anodyne28: . . .
TheMAN: So what if I told you I was sorry?
Anodyne28: Are you sorry?
TheMAN: I implied hypothetically sorry, Hermione. But if I were, would you let me into your office?
Anodyne28: It depends. Are you truly sorry?
TheMAN: Maybe.
Anodyne28: Draco, if you want anywhere near my body today, tomorrow, or the day after next then you'll own up and apologize to me! Otherwise, you're not even sleeping on the couch. You'll be sleeping at Harry's! No wait, I like Harry too much. Ron's – no, I like him right now more than you too . . . You'll be at Zabini's!
Z,
I just want you to know that Hermione's office is off limits for the next half hour.
M
P.S. Hermione doesn't like you.
M,
Nonsense, Hermione loves me.
Twenty says she doesn't let you in.
Z
"Who is it?"
"Open the door, Hermione."
"Why should I?"
"Because you have a very penitent husband waiting patiently outside your door."
"Does that mean you're sorry?"
"Hermione, open the door."
"I'm waiting. . ."
"Hermione, Zabini's watching. . . Open the door, please?"
"Hermione?"
Click!
"Ha! You owe me twenty, Zabini!"
