So this is a four-part story story I've had taking up space on my computer for months now. Probably a year or so. This first part is just sort of an introduction to the rest of story. I think it's a little different from what I usually write, but it's alright.
Anyway, have a read and leave some thoughts! I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Draco Malfoy is proud of his daughter, especially since she takes after him. So when she comes up with a plan to sabotage her mother's upcoming marriage, he agrees and takes matters into his own hands.
One - Three Months
Monday morning. Draco Malfoy hates Monday mornings. Really. He has a terrible time getting up on time, which sets his whole morning routine backwards and never fails to make him late for work. Or almost late. Whatever. The point is he hates Monday mornings.
The afternoons aren't that bad, in fact he sort of likes them. Once the clock turns noon, he knows there's only three hours left in the day before he can go home and put his feet up. (Or to the nearest pub to find some company.)
Monday evenings are the best, for various reasons. The most important being that in just a few short hours it will be Tuesday morning. And he likes Tuesday mornings.
But no, this morning it's a Monday. First day of the bloody work week and of course he's running late. Alright, so technically he's perfectly on time, but seeing as how every other morning he's always ten minutes early, this is late for him.
It's 6:59 am when he walks into his office to find his 17 year old daughter, Rosalyn Phoenix Malfoy, in all her bouncing brown curls and honey brown eyes. He pauses in the doorway, with his cloak half pulled off, looking at her as she sits in his chair behind his desk. She's a spitting image of her mother – beauty, brains and sharp tongue. She drops her legs onto the floor and leans forward, her mouth opening to speak.
He lifts his hand, silencing her before she can make a sound. "Don't speak. I need five minutes to get a coffee."
"But dad it's important," the teenager whines.
"Five minutes, Rose. Please?" He shrugs out of his cloak and hangs it on the back of the door before placing his briefcase on top of the desk and heading back out with his daughter on his heels. "Shouldn't you still be in bed? It's summer vacation-"
"I couldn't sleep."
"That's why I want to talk to you. It's about mum-"
"Oh, no. Okay, I need ten minutes then, alright? I can't deal with your mother this early in the morning."
"It's also about McLaggen..."
The sound of McLaggen's name on his daughters lips – is almost as nauseating as it is coming out of Granger's – captures his attention. He freezes, mid-pour, and his fists clench tightly. He's always hated McLaggen. He just hates him even more now.
"McLaggen?" His voice sounds fake even to him, as he adds milk and sugar to his coffee. He turns around to face his daughter, who is now on this side of the desk, leaning against it with her arms crossed over her chest.
"You don't have to pretend to like him in front of me, you know I don't like him either. It's Scorpius you have to worry about offending," she points out.
"Right, well, the only reason Scorpius even likes the scumbag is because he gets free flying lessons," the blonde says bitterly. "I'd teach him myself, but-"
"You're too busy working, we know."
Draco sighs, frowning as he walks around and sits down in his chair, looking across the table as the tall, lanky teenager lowers herself into the plush chair on the other side. "So, you were saying?" he asks as casually as he can muster. He raises his mug to his lips.
He chokes on the hot liquid, spluttering and coughing as he clears his throat and composes himself. He stares, eyes wide, at Rose. "They're what?"
"Engaged," she repeats, albeit hesitantly.
He blinks once. Twice. Three times, before he launches himself out of his chair and begins to pace behind it. He pushes his right hand through his hair roughly.
"Since when?" he demands.
"Last night. They went out for dinner and when they came back, she had a ring on her finger – it's really beautiful though. Huge too-"
"Right, so anyway, I asked her about it and she said he proposed at the restaurant. Obviously she said yes, which is a load of bullocks. They've only been dating for like, what, six months-"
"Six and a half," he corrects her absentmindedly.
She smirks, one that mirrors his own, as she leans back in her chair looking smug. "Wow. I didn't know you were keeping tabs on her-"
"Mhmm. Then why are youso put off by it?" she points out.
He almost answers her. He almost tells her the truth but he stops, his mouth open as he considers his answer. "You knew I would be, otherwise you wouldn't be here," he tells her instead. He stops pacing to look at her. "So what is it you want me to do?"
She smirks, again. He knows her so well… "I want you to stop it, sabotage it, whatever."
"You want me to sabotage your mother's wedding?"
"Oh don't act like you're not already thinking of ways to do it anyway," she snaps
He frowns; she's got him there.
"You don't have much time."
"What do you mean I don't have much time? They couldn't have set a date already-"
"Oh but they have. Haven't you heard? McLaggen is in a mighty rush to marry her."
Draco ignores the bitter sarcasm in her voice, shaking his head of her voice. "How long do I have Rose?"
Rose smiles, genuinely happy. "I knew you'd do it."
"Three months! You want me to sabotage a wedding in three months?" He explodes, thankful that his office has a silencing charm on it at all times. "What the bloody hell is she thinking, rushing into something like this – she isn't a bloody teenager anymore."
Rose watches as her father continues to pace around, grumbling and complaining about how her mother 'seems to like to jump into things far too quickly' and how she's 'acting irresponsible and irrational for someone who's supposed to be so bloody intelligent'. She smirks, looking amused, because she knows her father's deepest, darkest secret – which he will never admit to anyone, not even to her.
"She's insane. Your mother is insane, Rosie."
"Trust me, I know."
He stops pacing then, and flops down into his chair looking defeated and frustrated. "Three months…" he mutters.
"It's not a lot of time, I know-"
"This is why I don't deal with your mother this early in the morning, because she drives me bloody insane and now my whole day is..." he trails off, biting his lip to keep his anger and frustration somewhat in check. "Three months! How am I supposed to sabotage a wedding in only three months?"
She shrugs, pushing herself to her feet and then walking around to his side of the desk, sitting on the edge beside him. "You'll think of something, daddy, you always do. Why do you think I came to you?" she asks innocently.
He grumbles, leaning back in his chair as he rubs his hands over his face.
"So, I'll leave you to it then! I'm meeting Adrian for breakfast, so just let me know how it goes-"
"What – how it goes? You're not even going to help?"
"Daddy. You've had more practice than me at this sort of thing, and thissort of thing, needs someone who's experienced and calculating and wants it for all the...wrong reasons. Therefore…" she trails off, letting him put the pieces together himself.
"You, are the most sly, conniving daughter I've ever known." He could've laughed, if only he wasn't so bloody annoyed.
"I'm the only daughter you've ever known." She giggles, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Love you, daddy."
"Love you too – oh! When you see Scorpius, tell him I'll pick him up after dinner for that Quidditch game," he calls after her as she walks out the door.
He hasn't been able to concentrate all day. Curse his ex-wife and her way of getting herself under his skin. Curse his daughter for helping. When lunch rolls around, he takes the opportunity to go to the fifth floor – her floor. Because while he believes his daughter whole-heartedly, he has to see it for himself. And also, the afternoons are the best time to deal with her.
It's just his luck that when he walks off the elevator she's walking across the lobby, from her office to the supply closet. Oh, how he misses that supply closet. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Granger-danger. Fancy meeting you here," he drawls, cocking his head to the side with his infamous smirk.
She doesn't even bother to look up from the pile of papers in her arms. "Nice try Malfoy, but this is my floor."
Deciding to ignore her and her usual indifferent tone, he falls into step behind her. "Working into lunch I see? Same old boring Granger, huh?"
"Is there a reason why you're following me? Because I really don't want to deal with you this early in the day," she snaps.
"Early? It's past noon-"
He rolls his eyes. "Well, if you must know, that's exactly I'm here."
"Of course it is," he mutters.
He watches from the doorway as she reaches up to a shelf that's much too high for her, to grab a box of ministry approved quills. He smirks, watching her struggle as she pushes herself onto her toes. His gaze starts at her feet and works their way up her long, smooth legs, over her nice round bum (pausing briefly to admire its beauty) and he wants nothing more than to press her up against the shelves and shag her like he's done plenty of times before. His gaze continues upwards until they settle on the piece of silver wrapped around her finger, holding a giant diamond in place. His stomachs flip flops and he has to bite back a growl. Wanting to see it no more, he steps forward behind her and reaches for the box himself, bringing it down to her level. He's so close that he can smell her shampoo – he likes that it still smells the same.
"Thanks." She turns around, colliding with his chest before looking up at him. Their gazes lock for a split second before she moves around him.
"I have fond memories in here. Manyfond memories," he whispers huskily in her ear as he continues to follow her.
"I'm sure you do."
He follows her back across the lobby and into her office, leaving the door open behind him. This, he finds out later, is a grave mistake. "So when were you gonna tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
Except for that brief moment in the closet, she has yet to look at him when he speaks, nor when she answers.
"About your engagement."
"Oh," she pauses. "Yes."
He stares at her dumbly for a moment. "That's it? No explanation, no 'I'm sorry Draco, I should've told you-"
She snaps her gaze up finally, glaring at him. "There's nothing to explain, first of all. And second of all, I didn't tell you because it's none of your business."
"Rose seems to think it's my business."
Hermione sighs. "That's because she's your daughter, and what she fails to realize – and you apparently – is that anything I do, or don't do, isn't any of your business."
"So you really weren't going to tell me? You don't think I deserve to know that you're bringing another man into my home, my family? You don't think I deserve to know you're gonna let McLaggen play the role of step-daddy to mychildren?" he asks bitterly, putting an emphasis on 'my'.
"I never said I wasn't going to tell you," she replies softly. "I would have, eventually, of course. And Cormacknows his place."
"That git wouldn't know his place if it stared him in the fucking face."
"Why do you have to be hostile? And why do you hate him so much – you know, nevermind. I don't want to know," she mutters, sitting down at her desk and turning her attention to her work.
"The guy's a complete tool, Granger."
"Yeah well that 'tool' is my fiancé now, and I'd appreciate it if you butted out. Cormac knows his place, like I said. Unlike some people I know…"
He ignores her stab at him, rolling his eyes as he walks around her office. "Is three months even enough time to plana wedding?"
"It's plenty of time, not that it's any of your business."
"Rose doesn't seem to think so."
"Rose will get over it, she always does."
"And if she doesn't? Are you really prepared to risk losing your daughter?"
She glares at him; he knows it's a low blow. A few months back Rose had been so upset at her mother – something about McLaggen – that she'd spent two weeks at his place and threatened never to speak to her again as long as she continued to date the Quidditch star. The 16 year old had caved only days later.
"Rose is a drama queen, Draco, we both know that. Perhaps if you stopped being so negative and judgmental about him, she'd wantto get to know him."
"So it's my fault then, that our daughter doesn't like the moron?"
"Yes," she confirms.
"Wow, that's...you're really something Granger," the blonde mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. "Honestly the two of you – you and McLaggen – deserve each other. He's dim as a fucking broom stick and you're not far off."
Just then Lavender Brown waltzes into the room. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had company. I'll just-"
"He was just leaving," Hermione replies, looking pointedly at Draco. Draco only glares back.
"Oh, well I just wanted to congratulate you on the engagement. Ron and I are so happy for you. And you, Draco? Did you come to congratulate her as well," she asks curiously.
"Of course, congratulations," he sneers, before walking out of the office.
"THREE MONTHS!" He explodes. From talking to his daughter about it this morning, to catching up with Granger just a few moments ago, Draco has gone to the one place he knows he can scream and yell all he wants. Zabini Incorporated; it used to be Malfoy Inc, before Draco had sold it to his best mate years ago, for he had no interest in the Malfoy family business. He co-owns it, for financial purposes, but Blaise has all the power.
Blaise Zabini looks up from his meal sitting on his desk, to see an enraged Draco Malfoy pacing the entire width of his large office. "What?"
"Three months! Can you believe that?"
"I'm afraid I'm not following, you lunatic," Blaise replies casually, as though it's an everyday occurrence.
Draco sighs, "Granger, she's marrying McLaggen in THREE fucking months."
"Oh they set a date, did they?"
"Yes they set a date – hang on. You knew?" The blonde rounds on his friend, looking wild and crazy and he bangs his closed fists down on the edge of the desk.
Blaise shrugs, unfazed by his friend's anger. "Well sure, Granger called Luna last night in a fit of excitement. They didn't have a date set last night though."
"So...she told youbefore she told me?" he asks, sounding hurt and disappointed.
"She told Luna-"
"She might as well have told you then," he snaps. "When the fuck were you going to tell me?"
"Right now, actually. I was just going to finish up here and head over to your office – I know you can't deal with Granger in the mornings."
"How did you find out?" Blaise asks curiously.
"Rose was waiting for me in my office this morning," Draco mutters, deflating in the chair across from Blaise.
"Ahh, of course. Your little spy."
"She's not my spy," the blonde protests.
"No, of course not. She just tells you everything Granger does and says."
"It's not my fault my daughter is open and understanding."
"More like bitchy and conniving."
"Yes well, that's neither here nor there," Draco mumbles, waving it off, leaning back in the chair as he looks up at the ceiling. "Three months."
"I take it you aren't pleased then," the darker skinned wizard observes.
"Of course I'm not pleased! She has no idea what she's doing. She's rushing into this thing like a fucking teenager," he growls.
"Personally, I think teenagers have the right idea. Adults – single ones anyway – worry far too much, whereas teenagers... Remember when we were teenagers? We had no fear – jumping in head first, not knowing where anything was going. That was the life, wasn't it?" Blaise asks fondly.
"Yeah, until you find yourself 19 years down the road with two children in the middle of a divorce."
"You know what your problem is? You're too negative."
"Perhaps, but that doesn't change the fact that Granger is acting completely insane! She's out of her mind!"
"Perhaps. But how is that any of your business?"
"Merlin, you sound like Granger," the blonde mutters, rolling his eyes. "How isn't it my business? She's the mother of my children, Blaise. And whether she likes it or not, I'm always going to be a part of her life because of that – and I'm not about to stand aside and let McLaggenplay step-father to my kids."
"And, you know, you're still in love with her," Blaise points out.
"Three fucking months Blaise, how is that not crazy?"
"I never said it wasn't crazy."
Draco groans loudly, rubbing his hands over his face. "Rose wants me to sabotage the wedding."
"Of course she does, she's a manipulating she-you."
"She can't stand McLaggen, let alone stomach him."
"You're actually considering sabotaging this wedding?" Blaise asks incredulously, like it's the dumbest thing he's ever heard.
"No, I'm not considering it."
"Then you've already made up your mind. You're going to."
"This is a bad idea mate. A really, really bad idea."
"Well what else am I supposed to do?"
"Let her be happy?" the CEO suggests. "She deserves that much, don't you think?"
"Not with him."
"You mean not with anybody but yourself."
Just like every other time Blaise hints at the fact that he's still in love with his ex-wife, Draco Malfoy ignores him. "Well, it's been nice ranting to you Zabini, buy I must be going," the blonde states, pushing himself to his face.
"You must, must you?"
"And if you repeat a word of this to anyone – especially Luna – I'll hex you so bad-"
"Yeah, no, I believe that. My lips are sealed. Hang on, do you have a plan yet?" Blaise asks, genuinely curious.
"Give me a few hours."
And as Draco Malfoy disapparates with a POP – a rather angry sounding POP at that – Blaise Zabini shakes his head, because there's no way this is going to turn out well. At all.