At 8:15 Richard Worth looked up and saw his number one guy, Nathan Hall, walk through the door. A leather briefcase slung over his shoulder, while he balanced two cups of Starbucks in his right hand, and carried a bag with the coffee makers insignia in his left. "You're late."
"I stopped for coffee. And breakfast. You were here when I called earlier, so I didn't think you'd have eaten."
Of course, Nathan was correct. Since the market had been finicky lately, Richard had been working nonstop trying to pacify a growing list of customers. Rich people did not like to lose money, and when they got scared, they started to pull their investment out. Except it was exactly what shouldn't happen. By withdrawing all of the capital, the Dow would freefall. It'd be just like the crash of '29, except about thirty times worse. The world market had grown extensively since then.
Richard took the coffee and croissant from Nathan and nodded gratefully. He had to admit; he'd miss the young man once he went back to England. Which, according to the information he'd dug up, was exactly where he was supposed to be. "Why didn't you tell me that you're Draco Malfoy?"
The blond haired, gray-eyed man stopped, his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. "I didn't know my last name until this morning."
"How?"
Draco leaned back in the leather chair, not really wanting to have this discussion. "I've started to remember."
"You know, when I met you six years ago… I knew you had magic in you. I recognized it instantly, of course. I just didn't know you were connected to such an important pureblooded family."
"Wait," Draco stopped him. "Magic?" This was all sounding vaguely familiar.
"The American community isn't so big anymore, really. Wizards still exist, of course, but they're harder to find. I'm descended from a long line of wizards, my great, great, great grandfather being one of the first to escape persecution in England, finding some solace in the colonies."
"But, I thought…" Draco stopped for a moment, trying to process the information. "Didn't the early Americans burn 'witches' at the stake?"
"Hung them, actually. Twenty women died before the madness in Salem ended. However, none of those killed had any known ties to witchcraft."
Richard paused, as he studied his young protégé. "You know, I had hoped you'd be the one to take over for me some day. It was certainly what I'd been grooming you for."
Draco blushed, and looked away. "Thank you for the compliment. But you know that I don't know nearly enough to run a company of this size."
"Nonsense. I have complete faith in you, seeing as how you learned everything from me."
The younger man smiled, replaying the words in his head. "Wait, what did you mean, you'd hoped I'd take over for you. You mean…?"
Richard sat the documents he'd found on the Internet, along with a copy of the most recent Missing Wizards Report to come out of London and their Ministry on the desk. "You asked me about Draco Malfoy, but you weren't surprised when I told you who he was. That much you knew.
"You also asked about Virginia Malfoy. What do you want to know about her?"
"Who is she?" Draco questioned. He fingered the gold band absently. "Other than the obvious. I know we were married once."
"Still are," Richard told him. "Virginia Malfoy, formerly Virginia Weasley. You went to school at Hogwarts together, started dating your seventh year, her sixth. After graduation, you moved to London together and shared a flat. Four months after your twenty-second birthday, you married. It is the day that the Malfoy-Weasley feud ended."
"What about now?" Draco leaned forward and took the papers from the desk. He shuffled through them as Richard talked, looking at the pictures of the red headed woman and the black haired man.
"About seven years ago, Virginia Malfoy gave birth to twins - the heirs to the Malfoy fortune. Shortly after, Lord Voldemort ordered an attack against her and her children. A professor there, along with Harry Potter, was able to prevent the attack. This professor arranged for the Fidelus charm, and he along with Blaise Zabini were the Secret Keepers." When he saw Nathan-Draco start to talk, he held up his hand to stop him. "Let me finish first." At the other man's nod, he continued, "She and the children remained under the charm until recently, when Mrs. Malfoy reclaimed her rightful position as mistress of Malfoy Manor, claiming she wanted her children to know their heritage."
"What about the danger?" Draco asked. "She went into hiding because of it, so did it vanish?"
"She's a Malfoy, Nathan, the danger will never completely vanish. But, a year after her the charm was performed, Harry Potter was able to defeat Lord Voldemort and she's been relatively safe since."
"You've said both of those names twice now. Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. Who are they?"
Richard took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could still remember the power base Voldemort had gained among the American wizards during his original rise to power some thirty years ago. It had been a dark time for wizards and Muggles everywhere, particularly England and America. "Before you were born, there was a dark wizard who was terrorizing the non-magic people of the world. He believed in pureblood wizardry, which is ironic as he wasn't a pureblood himself, and his name was Lord Voldemort. When you were about a year old, Voldemort went after James and Lily Potter. There'd been some kind of prophecy about their son, Harry. He killed James, but instead of killing Harry, Lily sacrificed herself for him. Harry was able to defeat Voldemort when he was just a baby, with nothing but a lightening-bolt shaped scar left to remind him. They called him The Boy Who Lived."
A corner of Draco's mouth lifted as he smirked. "Sounds like a positively boring story. What's this got to do with me?"
"During your fourth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort was able to regain his body and rise again. You were a teenager, about fifteen, I think. Mr. Potter wasn't able to defeat him again until after your 'death' at twenty-three. Harry Potter is known worldwide for his heroic efforts."
"Why don't they just give him a medal, then?" Draco asked. "I still don't see what this has to do with me."
"Your father was Voldemort's right hand man."
"What?"
Richard slid another picture towards Nathan. This time it was an older version of the man sitting in front of him. "Lucius Malfoy."
"Father," Draco whispered. He studied the picture intently. The man was almost a mirror image of himself. "He's the one that sent me here."
"What?" the older man questioned. "Do you know that for sure?"
Draco nodded. "I don't know how, and I don't know why… I just know he's responsible for me being in America. I imagine I'll have a few words with him when I return to England."
"He's dead," Richard said flatly. "Has been for seven years."
Draco didn't even bother to look up. "I killed him, didn't I?"
"That's the rumor."
"Ah." He studied the picture once more, before sliding it to the bottom of the papers. Staring up at him now was Virginia, with a tall black haired man beside her. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, shielding her from whoever was taking the picture. "Who's this?" he asked, holding up the picture.
"Blaise Zabini."
Draco lifted an eyebrow. "Any relation to Zabini Enterprises out of England?"
"His grandfather was the founder. Blaise is now CEO. Have you done business with him?"
He shook his head. "No. Read about him. What's he to me?"
"Best friend. Partner in crime and business. As far as I can tell, you've known him since you were in diapers. Your fathers… they shared similar interests."
"In Voldemort, you mean."
"Yes," Richard answered him. "Alvin Zabini died when Blaise was eight, and your father took it upon himself to look after the boy and his mother. You were raised as brothers. Until you went to Hogwarts, when you grew apart. It wasn't until your fifth year that the friendship was continued. Ironically, he is the reason you met Ginny Weasley."
"How's that?"
"I didn't bother with school yard crushes, but from as far as I could tell, he dated her. After your death, several articles referenced their past relationship, while hinting at renewal of his intentions towards her."
Draco frowned as he studied the picture. "Were there any truth to those rumors?"
"Your wife recently did an interview with a Colin Creevey claiming she was completely faithful to you, and that Blaise was only her friend. But, I do know that Blaise Zabini was the reason your name was put on the Missing Wizards list."
The blond turned away from the picture of Virginia and Blaise to find a formal looking report, complete with pictures and vital information about each of the wizards listed on it. Draco studied the picture of himself, even though he was a lot younger than he was now. The information listed beside his picture was accurate. So they had been looking for him after all. "What's this?"
"After Voldemort was defeated, the British Ministry of Magic released a list of missing wizards that disappeared during the war. They update the list every six months or so. You've never been on it, until now."
"Why now?"
"Apparently everyone in England thinks you're dead, killed by your father. Except your wife and Blaise Zabini. She wanted to try and find you again, and Zabini had the resources to make that happen."
Draco eyed his boss carefully. "Are you sure there are no truth to those rumors?"
Richard merely shrugged. "What do you think?"
He reached into his trouser pocket and took out the wedding band he carried with him. Draco scrapped his fingernail over the engraving on the inside of the band and sighed. "She loved me once. She made a promise to me, and she wanted to start a family with me. But it's been seven years. It's not inconceivable to think she might have moved on."
Richard leaned forward on his elbows, as he studied his young friend. "Is that good or bad?"
"What?"
"That she might have moved on."
"I imagine I would want her to be happy. And I wouldn't want her to be lonely. If she's been faithful… then she's better than most people out there. If she hasn't, then I can't blame her. I'm in no position to judge her, as I've never been in the position that my supposed death put her in."
"Do you love her?"
Draco shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? All I have are the few things I started to remember about her this morning. For as long as I can remember, I've wondered who Virginia was and why she was so important to me. Suddenly I'm finding out we've been married for nearly ten years - a marriage that I can't remember. I have two children with a woman I don't know." He held up the ring to the light and sighed. "But I loved her once. And I'd like to meet her again."
Leaning forward, Richard grabbed his phone. He cradled the handle between his shoulder and ear as he searched his Rolodex for the number of his travel agent. After a minute, he dialed the number and smiled when James Moyer finally answered. "Jimmy, it's Dick. I need a favor."
Draco studied his mentor as he made the travel arrangements, knowing that he could do the work himself, but happy to let the other man. It was all too much for him, the memories from this morning and all the information Richard had gathered for him.
He'd met Richard Worth by chance. Or at least he thought it was chance. Now he knew that might not be entirely accurate. But still, he was grateful. Richard had given him his dignity back.
After he found himself in New York, unsure of his past and future, Draco had settled into a men's shelter, working menial jobs to pay for his room and food. He'd been there for eight months when Richard had offered him a job as a mail courier in his investment firm. A year later he was middle management. The man had made it possible for him to take the classes (paying for two of them) and get the certification he needed to become an investment broker. Four years later, he'd received another promotion: a vice-president had retired and Draco had unexpectedly been given the position.
Draco had no doubt that Richard Worth had saved his life. If not for the job and financial help (even though he'd repaid every penny of the money), then he was sure he would have died long ago. Not because he wasn't a survivor, but because his spirit had been broken. The not knowing used to drive him crazy, and finally he learned to lose himself in his job. If not for that, he would have lost his mind.
After Richard hung up, he finished writing the instructions on the notepad. Tearing the slip of paper off, he folded it and handed it to Nat-Draco. He'd have to get used to that eventually. "You're flight leaves at one. You'll arrive in London around six thirty. I imagine someone will help you apparate or Floo-they'll explain it there-to Malfoy Manor. There may be wards, but you should be able to get past them, as you are Master of the Manor."
"Where is it located? In case I can't find it."
"Wiltshire, near Bath. You'll be able to find it."
"Richard," Draco began, after a minute of silence, "I don't know how to thank you."
The older man waved away his pleasantries. "It's been my pleasure knowing you, Nat… Draco. I'm still getting used to that. I only regret that you lost seven years of your life and it was during that time that you and I became friends."
Draco stood, and grabbed his briefcase. "I'll come back."
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
He nodded, knowing what the older man meant. "Thank you for being my friend."
Richard stood, and extended his hand to Draco. "You'll be hard to replace."
Draco shook the man's hand, and sighed. "I'll be in touch."
"Good luck, Mr. Malfoy. I hope whatever you find in England is what you've been searching so desperately for."
His fist closed around her wedding ring and he closed his eyes, welcoming the pain as the gold cut into his hand. "She's there, Richard. And that's what I've been searching for all along."
Richard nodded once, before sitting back down in his chair. He reached for the stack of papers, but didn't start work until after the young man had left his office. "Goodbye Draco," he said quietly.
The businessman sat there for some time, just staring at the closed door. He sincerely hoped that the young man found out who he was. And that he found Virginia. After awhile, though, he turned his attention to the market reports and sighed.
Now if only he could figure out how to stop the imminent market crash.