Disclaimer: You know the drill, JKR owns it all, I own nothing but my imagination.
A/N: This story is part of my AU of "The Best Defense" and follows "Whatever Happened to Severus Snape?" The Best Defense is on hold for a few weeks while I am recovering files, but there is enough written to catch you up to here, and the WHTSS is a one shot complete. This takes place six years after the final battle
Draco the Muggle
Draco Malfoy left the pier and returned to his car with the empty urn that had held his mother's ashes. Although the official cause of death had been listed as breast cancer, Draco knew that Narcissa had really died of a broken heart. Six years in exile, not only barred from doing magic, but also having a magic aversion spell performed on both of them had really pushed Draco's mother over the edge and caused her to lose her will to live. When she was diagnosed, she refused all methods of treatment and had let nature take its course.
"Nature, my arse," thought Draco as he climbed into his green and silver Avanti convertible. "One quick healing spell would have cured her, but the mind blocks were just too deep. The ruddy bastards stole my heritage, my fortune, and my family. The only thing they haven't taken is my life." He looked down at his forearm where the Dark Mark used to be. When Voldemort had been executed by Harry Potter, the mark had all but disappeared. What little evidence was left was so faded that Draco could claim it as a birthmark.
Draco had not done badly for himself since coming to America. Being naturally intelligent to begin with, he had earned his Master's Degree at Harvard School of Business in a short four years. He had then been recruited by a high powered securities trading firm to work out of their Boston office. A little over a year later, he was the top producer and in line for a vice-presidency. There was just something about that cultured British accent that connected with the Bostonian upper crust. He knew that there was something missing in his life however, and he was using the medium of money to try to fill in that gap.
Turning onto I-95 North, he headed towards the New Hampshire border. A scant hour and a half later, he pulled off the turnpike onto Route 9 heading to Kennebunkport, Maine. He really didn't feel like attending the party at his boss' summer home, but it was part of the game that he had to play in order to advance. And Draco Malfoy was very good at the game. The Armani suits, the hand-crafted convertible, and the dull parties with the insipid females who were constantly trying to sink their hooks into him, Draco would have none of that. He may not be able to perform magic now, but he would be damned if he would pollute his bloodline with a muggle. He never let his distain show however, and was so charming in his brush offs that no one ever complained. The only problem about that method was that some of the females in the office were whispering that he must be gay.
Draco knew that he would have to be aggressive in stopping that particular rumour. As 'enlightened' and liberal as the people in Boston claimed to be, that was a stigma that could wreck his career. Many of the clients he dealt with were 'old money', conservative Bostonians who could trace their ancestry back to the Mayflower and beyond. They were not part of the liberal population that was in the majority in this state.
Pulling up to the front of the house, Draco tossed the keys to the valet and instructed him, "No rasguñe la pintura". This was said with a smile and a ten dollar tip. The 'undocumented worker' took the keys and the tip, nodded his head and replied, "Si, Senor", then drove the Avanti carefully around to the parking area. Draco thought that having the flood of illegal immigrants was pretty handy, they worked almost as cheaply as house-elves. At that thought, his stomach took a sudden lurch. This was the effect of the magic aversion spell. He quickly cleared his mind and his nausea faded. It was funny how this spell seemed to work. He could think about his past, but if he thought of something that would change his circumstances, then the spell would kick in. One day he had seen a strange newspaper with moving pictures which had been carelessly discarded on the street. When he reached to pick it up, it had burnt his fingers just as if he had stuck his hand in an open flame. The sight of the photo had also caused his stomach to lurch strongly.
Striding up to the door, he was greeted by Henri's butler, Jamison, another transplant from the UK. British butlers and central American service staff seemed to be all the rage now. After handing his lightweight duster to the maid, Jamison brought him in and announced him.
"Mr. Draco Malfoy, Boston." A few heads turned in his direction, including that of an attractive young lady whom he had never before seen. She was standing next to Henri, and Draco made his way over to greet his host.
"Draco, glad you could make it. I would like you to meet the head of our Montreal office, Mlle. Adriana LeFavre. She has come down here specifically to meet you." Draco took Adriana's hand and brushed his lips against the back of it.
"Charmed. And to what do I owe this honor?" Draco cocked an eyebrow up in question.
"Mr. Malfoy. I am here to tell you that the company has watched your performance, and has taken a great liking to the way that you conduct business. They have asked me to assist you on your next step up the ladder, that being North American cross-currency markets. They would like to break new ground with your clients in Boston, promoting Canadian corporation's stocks and debt instruments. This market has been sorely neglected in the past." This with a withering look at Henri. Draco's boss looked decidedly uncomfortable.
Realizing quickly what side of the toast that this butter was on, Draco gave his most disarming smile and said, "Sounds like a wonderful opportunity. When do we start?" Draco had sized up the situation and seen that Henri was on the company's unofficial 'bad boy' list. This could mean that Draco could have an opportunity to capture control of Henri's job. This did not bother him in the least. He liked Henri, as well as he could like any muggle, but business was business, and Draco would cheerfully throw his boss over the rail in order to advance properly.
"Would next Monday morning be alright with you? The company would be paying your expenses while you are in Montreal. I can have the reservations at the extended stay hotel set for Sunday night. This will give you a week to tidy things up in Boston and arrange for someone to feed your cat, so to speak." She gave a titter of amusement.
"That would be fine, however I don't keep pets. They tend to be too needy. I would just like to make sure my clients are well served while I am gone."
"That is not a problem; we would just have all your calls transferred to your voice mail, just as if you were on vacation. You can spend this week notifying your clients that you will be out of town for a couple of weeks, and give them the option of dealing with another broker during your absence."
Draco noted that Henri looked decidedly uncomfortable. He wondered if his boss would grab the golden parachute and bail before he could be fired. Henri was certainly wealthy enough, he could afford to take his retirement and live in comfort for the rest of his life. Draco expected that he would not be seeing too much of Henri in the future. This was fine with him, Henri's problems were Henri's problems. Draco had problems of his own to worry about. With that, Draco and Adriana exchanged cards and agreed to speak later.
The rest of the party was more of the same mind-numbing ritual that Draco had been forced to endure during the past year or so. The same vapid girls, no more than arm candy, the same crowing from the testosterone-challenged men about their latest conquests. Draco would look for any excuse to escape gracefully. He walked out onto the terrace with his drink to take in some fresh air. The house was filled with cigar smoke, something which Draco detested. He could see no sense in why successful muggles insisted on sucking the smoke from burning leaves into their bodies, ruining them a mouthful at a time. Hearing a noise, he turned and saw Adriana LeFavre coming up behind him.
"I see that I'm not the only one the walls were closing in on." He smiled and gave a short bow. Adriana however, was interested in more than just Draco's obvious physical assets.
"Draco, I need to ask you, are you any relation to the Malfoys who do their banking at Diagon Alley in London?"
Draco started, shocked. "How do you know about Diagon Alley?" He hissed.
"Don't get so excited. The very fact that you know about Diagon Alley tells me that you are, in fact, related to the Wizarding House of Malfoy. Are you also a squib?"
A/N: And so starts the new adventures of Draco Malfoy, the most divisive character in the whole Potterverse. I never thought that I would be doing a Draco story, I have always considered him a cut-and-paste bad guy with no real depth. (author ducks incoming spells, hexes, shoes and rotten vegetables) Recently however, I have been thinking that with Voldy gone, there needs to be some conflict, just to keep the heroes on their toes. This will be a multi-chapter story.