The Devil Wears Prada

Summary: Witch Weekly crowned him the sexiest wizard alive, the Daily Prophet hailed him as the Most Influencial Wizard of the Year, the Gringotts Times named him one of most accomplished tycoons in wizarding history, and Hermione Granger is about to call him boss. 3 guesses who.

The Daily Prophet
15th June, 2000

You-know-who defeated by the Boy Who Lived

After three years and five months of war, HARRY POTTER finally claimed victory over the Dark side in Hogwarts yesterday night. Hogwarts, which had fallen to VOLDEMORT'S forces two years ago, has been recaptured by the Light. Reliable sources report that Aurors, headed by POTTER, broke into Hogwarts at approximately 9.30pm. By 11.00pm, the GOLDEN TRIO, led by DRACO MALFOY (an officially confirmed spy for the Order), had invaded VOLDEMORT'S lair in the dungeons of the castle. Victory was declared at midnight, after POTTER struck down his enemy with the Killing Curse...

The Gringott Times
9th December, 2000


DRACO L. MALFOY, the only son of imprisoned Death Eater LUCIUS MALFOY, is set to reclaim all monetary assets seized by the Ministry of Magic when the latter was arrested after the fall of VOLDEMORT. The total value of all assets is estimated to be as high as 1 billion galleons...

Witch Weekly
5th March, 2001


DRACO MALFOY, founder of MALFOY INTERNATIONAL CORPORATION, has snatched the title of Sexiest Man Alive from HARRY POTTER, who has won the award for two consecutive years. MR. MALFOY wins the award with 159,613 votes, and will appear on our cover in the next issue to be published on 12 March. Subscribe now!

The Gringotts Times
28th March, 2001


Network OWL has been taken over by MALFOY INTERNATION CORPORATION (MIC), marking the launch of MIC's national-scale investment campaign. MR. DRACO MALFOY reveals that several other integration plans will take place over a course of two years, and expects MIC to control 15pc of markets shares by the end of 2003...

The Daily Prophet
Page 6
19th September, 2002


DRACO MALFOY, business extraodinaire and Sexiest Man Alive, sent hordes of fans screaming (and some fainting) at a red-carpet function last night. MR. MALFOY attended the premiere of the PATIL TWINS' new motion picture Headstrong, produced by MMP (MALFOY MOTION PICTURE), looking devilishly dashing in a pinstripe Prada Homme suit worn under sharply cut black robes tailor made in Paris. Rumours flying about MR. MALFOY and supermodel VIVACA have also been confirmed- I can hear the heartbreaking cries all the way from the other side of town- but yes, ladies, MR. MALFOY is officially taken.

The Daily Prophet
Page 6
20th September, 2002


Reliable sources report that DRACO MALFOY has broken up with supermodel VIVACA. The couple were seen arguing outside BAR DEUX, MIC's latest venture, just after the premiere of Headstrong, starring the PATIL TWINS. (see p.15 for review)...

The Gringotts Times
11th November, 2003


MALFOY INTERNATION CORPORATION (MIC) announced yesterday that it has finalised plans to purchase ELIXIR LTD, the largest producer and researcher of domestic and industrial use potions in the market. The takeover means that MIC has exceeded its expectations of owning up to 15pc of markets shares by the end of this year, making DRACO MALFOY one of the most accomplished entrepreneurs of all time- and definitely the youngest. At just 25, MALFOY has made his mark as a hugely successful business tycoon.

April, 2004

"Any plans, Mr. Malfoy?"

Without looking up, Draco listened to the rhythmic slap of newspapers as they landed on his expensive oak desk. The Daily Prophet, The Gringott Times, Wizard's Financial Post, Wallstreet Journal, Time.

An extra slap.

Draco looked up to see his handsome face smirking at him.

"With compliments from the Witch Daily," grinned Zabini. "And all heterosexual witches."

"And homosexual ones as well," added Draco with a grin. He tossed the glossy magazine to Zabini. "Give it to your girlfriend. You know she has wild fantasies starring yours truly."

"Wild fantasies my arse," he snorted. "It's most likely the other way round. You can't seem to hold down a woman for more than 24 hours."

"That's because I can afford to- unlike you." sneered Malfoy smugly.

Zabini rolled his eyes. "Good to know you're richer than me in more than one way. Anyway, down to business. The Post is wondering when you'll take over the rest of the world."

Draco glanced at the headlines of Wizard's Financial Post which bellowed, "WHAT NEXT, MR MALFOY?".

"Funny," he mused. "Yesterday they were ganging up to protest my plans for world domination, and now they can't wait for me to buy up the rest of the market."

"Sorry bastards," nodded Zabini. "Can't even stick to an opinion for more than 24 hours. We should buy them out and turn them into a proper newspaper."

"Don't be too hard on them. We won't be here without them," said Draco, leaning back easily in his chair.

Zabini raised an eyebrow.

Draco sighed. "Come on, Zabini, can't even catch a bit of sarcasm?"

"I thought insults were more of your style."

"And you know how highly I think of your opinion," he said, giving him a pointed look that said otherwise. "Send Marie in with my coffee."

Propping his feet up on his desk and crossing them at the ankle, Draco leafed through the newspapers in a specific order- the Prophet, then the Times, then the Post. Next was Wallstreet Journal. He, of course, was fully aware of the fact that it was a muggle newspaper, and that was how he stayed one step ahead. It was surprising how narrow-minded the wizarding world was when it came to finance and business, and how clever muggles were in matters of money. It was top secret though. Nobody needed to know Draco Malfoy, MALFOY, read muggle newspaper.

"Come in," he called out when his door was knocked on thrice, and smiled at the person who let herself in.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy," purred Marie, sashaying towards his desk with his coffee in hand.

"Morning Marie," he replied, shamelessly admiring her choice of officewear. A thin, low-cut white blouse, a short and tight black skirt, five-inch red heels. He did hire her for a reason.

"Busy?" she smiled saucily, bending over to set the cup down on his desk while giving him a damn good view of her underwear.

"Mmmhmm," he grinned back. "Got my hands full."

"I'll leave you to your work then," said Marie, tossing her long ginger locks over a slim shoulder. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy."

His eyes followed her back across the rich carpeted floor till the heavy doors swallowed her up.

She put quite a lot of ideas in his head.

Which he was still tossing about in his mind when an unexpected, sharp knock on the door nearly threw him off balance and onto the carpet.

"What?" he snapped once he had righted himself.

The stern face of his other secretary, Lindsay, (he liked to call her the external secretary, while Marie was the internal one, obviously) peered around the door.

"Mr. Johnson is waiting for you in the conference room sir," she said, her piercing eyes boring into his. "He is fifteen minutes early."

"I'll be with him in thirty minutes," said Draco, waving her away.

Unbeknownst to her, Lindsay quite scared Draco. She was a no-nonsense working woman, her blue eyes too icy and her blonde hair slicked back too severely, and totally immune to Draco's charms. Her work performance was excellent though. And she was quite a looker, when she was not busy glaring holes into people's heads.

With a shrug, Draco reached for Time and let his thoughts wander back to more pleasant grounds. The wheels in his brain started creaking and spinning as he leisurely scanned the pages of politics, finance, science, and suddenly, something caught his eye as he was about to turn the page.

He blinked and raised an elegant eyebrow at his discovery.

Then he grinned.


S.A.M.E. (Stop Abusing Mother Earth) is the latest fashion brand to jump on the ecologically friendly bandwagon. Created by fresh Central St. Martins graduate HERMIONE GRANGER, the brand offers chic designs for both men and women at affordable prices. "Everything is 100pc natural," declares Granger in her small studio in hometown London. "I want to make a difference."

To purchase, visit S.A.M.E.'s online store.

Hermione squealed to herself when she saw the article.

Granted, it was nothing more than a small box of words at the bottom right corner of the fashion page, but still, it was Time.

Finally. People were starting to hear about S.A.M.E. Things would start picking up, she was sure of it. It was about time as well, she had only sold less then fifteen items after she launched S.A.M.E. five months ago, and she was struggling to make ends meet.

It would get easier now, she knew it would. Every designer starts out like this, and only the ones who endured could make it to the top.

And Hermione would make it the top.

After carefully cutting out the little square, Hermione pinned it to her bulletin board, which was littered with dozens of sketches- new ideas for her second collection. She was sure that S.A.M.E. would worm its way into more magazines and newspapers. After all, who wouldn't want to go organic if they could afford to?

She too was surprised how cheap it would be to source organic materials at first, since eco-friendly clothes on the market were very expensive and often far from trendy. It turned out that it was greed that pushed up the prices. And S.A.M.E. would eliminate the problem.

Happily, Hermione put away the magazine in a box she kept under her working bench and turned her attention to other letters. Advertisements, electricity bills, water bills, more advertisements- she stopped at a letter from her bank. She flipped it over and nearly jumped at the big red letters stamped on the envelope- URGENT.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. She had saved up a small fortune for herself by doing odd jobs and working during the summers throughout both Hogwarts and Central Saint Martins, with which she founded S.A.M.E., and a loan from the bank. She was not a skinflint, but she carefully controlled her finances and had no problem breaking even so far.

"Must be some mistake," she told herself, calmly slicing the envelope open with her letter knife.

And it dropped onto the ground with a resounding clink.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and stared at the letter.


She did a quick calculation in her head.

6992 Galleons.

"Impossible," she told herself, shaking her head firmly. "It must be some kind of mistake."

It had to be. Hermione just checked her accounts two days ago, after the African company sent her the bills for the organic cotton she bought. Everything should be covered, everything should be paid for to the very last cent. She had the receipts right here, she was sure-

"Sweet Merlin," she whispered, staring at the receipts.

The bank was right.

She owed the bank ₤35796.56, on top of her ₤4000 loan.

Shakily, she sank down on her sofa, still clutching the letter and the bills.

How did this happen? How could this happen? She was so confident that she had everything under control. Everything. She was supposed to earn enough to pay off the loan in two years and start making a profit in three.

Oh God. What on earth was she going to do?

The doorbell rang, nearly giving Hermione a heart attack. Quickly stuffing the letters under a cushion, she crossed the studio in four steps and opened the door.

"Harry," she managed, somewhat squeakily. "It's great to see you. What are you doing here?"

"It's Saturday silly, I'm here to kindap you from your precious sewing machine," said Harry chirpily, but he frowned when he saw her face. "Is everything okay? You look pale."

Hermione conjured up a fake "yeah sure, I'm okay" laugh. "Yes, I'm fine. Just, uh, I think I ate something, uh, that doesn't quite agree with my stomach. I guess I'll stay home tonight."

"Are you sure? I can take you to St. Mungo-"

"No!" she practically yelled. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, no thank you," she amended, clearing her throat uneasily. "I think I'll just go to bed early and drink some warm water. I'll be fine, honest."

Harry smiled. "If you insist."

"Yes, I do," she smiled back, if not tightly. "Enjoy your evening with Ginny."

"If you need me, we're at the Charmed Witches tonight."

"Got it," she nodded. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

Harry grinned as he stepped back. "I never have to worry about you, 'Mione. You're always the sensible one."

She smiled weakly and closed the door, collapsing against it.

For the first time in three years, Hermione wished she had just stuck to her job at the Ministry of Magic.

A/N: I wrote this on impulse. Inspiration struck me like lightning and I couldn't sleep till I had this typed out. I confess, I'm not a big fan of the Harry Potter books, but I am a fan of Harry Potter fanfiction. I did my research on Muggle Net before writing this, but if I made any mistakes, please point them out to me so I don't make a big fool out of myself. I'd love feedback- this IS my first Harry Potter fic after all! Let me know if you want me to continue this.