Title: Rock & Roll Queen
Summary: Some light dusting, heavy spying, inappropriate sniffing, and . . . a rock ballad? Things are going to get very weird when Ginny and Hermione, super spies extraordinaire, take jobs as maids at Malfoy Manor!
Author's Notes: Thanks to the very awesome Aduro for the beta! If you haven't read her After the War, wow, you have a treat in store for you! It is D/G at its finest. (But you don't have to take my word for it! ::cue Reading Rainbow music:: )
Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot and the terrible song lyrics are mine. Frankly, J.K. would probably be appalled at the things I'm making her characters do. The story's title comes from the song of the same name by The Subways.
Chapter 1 - Job Decisions
"Stop fidgeting!" the brunette hissed under her breath.
"I'm nervous! There's nothing wrong with being nervous before a job interview!" her friend hissed back, tapping her foot even faster than before.
"Well, you're making me nervous, too! God, you'd think I was applying to be Minister of Magic, my heart's going so fast!"
"I told you this was a bad idea," the redhead said, ceasing her foot tapping to turn and stare accusingly at her companion.
"Not arguing with you there," the other woman replied. "But all the same, here we are. It's not like we have a choice."
Her sigh was cut short as the heavy oak door swung open and a portly witch poked her head through.
"Next," she said in a bored voice, and disappeared back into the adjoining room.
"Well, here goes," said the redhead as she stood and ran sweaty palms down her robes. "Wish me luck."
"Good luck. You'll be fine," her friend replied, smiling reassuringly at her as she pulled open the door and entered the next room.
"Sit down," the portly witch said, indicating an uncomfortable chair in front of the desk. "Name?"
"Ginny Weasley, ma'am."
"It says on your application you graduated from Hogwarts two years ago - correct?"
"Yes."
"And how many N.E.W.T.s did you receive?"
"Er, are N.E.W.T.s really necessary for this line of work?"
"Just answer the question, please."
~*~*~*~
Draco Malfoy stood in front of a long oval mirror framed in bronze fleur-de-lis. He was contemplating a nipple piercing.
"Sexy or scary?" he asked, holding a small silver hoop against his bare chest. There was no response; she was ignoring him again.
"Sexy or scary?" he asked in a louder voice.
"I'm thinking! Hold on, you three-dimensional arse!" the mirror replied.
Draco chuckled. "Distracted because you were looking at it again, weren't you?" He turned slightly to give the mirror a better view of his posterior. "And Mirabel, you're as three dimensional as I am - you're just rather flat."
"That's it, isn't it?" the mirror huffed. "You never liked the flat girls!"
"Not again, Mirabel," Draco replied wearily. "You know it would never work between us. It's the whole human/furniture thing. And I respect you too much," he added as an afterthought.
Mirabel sniffed.
"Which is why your opinion is so important to me," he coaxed, wiggling the silver hoop.
"All right, fine," the mirror said after a pause with feigned reluctance in her voice. "I'll give you my opinion. Let's see . . . scenario: you're with one of your trollops-"
"Watch it."
"One of your . . . lady friends, and in the heat of the moment, she reaches up, and yoink! There goes the whole nipple."
Draco winced and covered his chest protectively with the palms of his hands.
"Right," he said. "Scary, then."
He tossed the hoop onto his dresser and slumped onto the bed. "It's just that I need an edge - something to make me stand out."
"Draco, you have an edge," Mirabel purred. "Look at yourself. Come on, look up. That's a boy. Give us a smile then. Now see, that is an edge. You, Draco Malfoy, are the sexiest man alive, and when women look at you, they will not be able to resist."
"Oh, I know I'm sexy - that's not the point though! I want my look to say" - Draco stood and gestured dramatically - "'Rock Star!'"
~*~*~*~
Ginny leaned against one of the stone columns flanking the entrance of Malfoy Manor, waiting for Hermione to emerge. Finally, the brunette burst through the doors, practically skipping in relief.
"It went well, I take it?" Ginny asked with an amused smile on her face.
"Yes! Got it! Though that Mrs. Abbott is one scary witch, isn't she? It felt like being in detention with McGonagall."
"Hermione, you never had detention with McGonagall."
"Hypothetically, I mean."
Ginny rolled her eyes as the two walked down the long curving drive away from the manor. When they exited the gates, Hermione turned and smiled at Ginny triumphantly.
"Shall we?" she asked, and Ginny nodded. The two Apparated away.
~*~*~*~
Later that day, Draco sat in his study - his father's study once upon a time - and flipped through the endless pile of parchments in front of him. Business was boring and his mind was elsewhere.
" . . . under your spell . . . under your spell, baby . . ." he sang under his breath.
The latest Weird Sisters' hit had been stuck in his head all day. It was bloody distracting, and bloody brilliant. But that, of course, was because he had written it. Draco had stumbled upon his talent for songwriting in his fifth year at school, when he had penned the Hogwarts classic, "Weasley is our King." It was then that he had discovered the power of music, the power it had to penetrate the mind, to affect the emotions. It had decimated the Weasel's spirit; it had brought joy to Slytherin House; it was magic without wands or incantations.
Once the war was over, and Lucius, much to Draco's relief, had been killed, Draco took over the family business. He had been exonerated by the Ministry of all wrongdoing due to the valuable information he had provided them. Draco was no fool - he knew who was bound to win, and his heart had never been in serving the Dark Lord. No, his father might have been fine with being some half-blood's lapdog, but Draco was his own man. He turned traitor, and didn't lose any sleep over it.
But post-war, life was boring. The various businesses owned by the Malfoy Corporation practically ran themselves, and Draco, used to the more exciting life of a double-agent, soon grew frustrated with boardroom meetings and dignitaries' luncheons. He found relief in songwriting. Under the nom de plume "Desiderio Glacé" Draco had sent out his compositions to the most popular wizard bands, and watched as his songs climbed the charts. It was satisfying work, for a while.
Lately, however, Draco found himself more and more unsatisfied with life. Songwriting was great - he loved having a secret identity even his mother knew nothing of - but he was not one to sit quietly on the sidelines. Draco Malfoy wanted his share of the spotlight. And while watching the seriously addicting wizvid, Draco formed a plan. Why should the prancing nancies in dragonskin pants get all the glory? Draco could write the songs; why not sing them as well?
~*~*~*~
Ginny rolled her eyes as Harry gave Hermione an unnecessarily long and wet-sounding kiss.
"We were barely gone an hour," she muttered under her breath.
Ron coughed.
"Right," said Harry, assuming his "boss" voice despite the fact that he was blushing like a schoolgirl.
"Progress report, Agent Granger?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," she replied with a bit of a cheeky grin. "Ginny and I succeeded in obtaining positions within Malfoy Manor, and we will be reporting to work there at seven tomorrow morning. We've both been hired as part of the cleaning staff, reporting to a Mrs. Abbott. We will be housed in the servants' wing. While there, neither Ginny nor I saw any sign of the target."
"Very good," Harry said. "Ron, please see what you can find out about this Mrs. Abbott. I'd like a report on my desk by tomorrow afternoon, if possible."
"Sure thing," Ron replied, jotting down a note on his parchment pad.
"All right," Harry said, eyeing each person sitting around the conference table. "Let's make sure we all know what we're doing. Herm, Ginny, everything's to be aboveboard - do the work required of you, and do it well. It is imperative that you keep those jobs at all costs. That said, keep your eyes open. Take every opportunity to monitor the target, get as close to him as you can. And if anyone asks, you took the jobs why?"
"Down on our luck," Hermione answered with a bright smile.
"Down on our luck," Ginny sighed, a beat behind her.
"Good. Now, Luna, Colin, you'll be running the Diagon Alley operation. Our target has been spotted there a number of times recently, and it is up to you to tail him, find out what he's up to. You are to exercise the utmost caution - do not get caught."
Colin nodded eagerly.
"Right boss," Luna said. "I'll be on him like mud on a three-toed Plutoose, or like Ron on my cherry-"
"Luna!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes widening in alarm.
"I was going to say 'pie,' Ron. You know my cherry pie is your favorite - you told me so yourself. After that you like the blueberry I make, and the banana cream," Luna said innocently.
Ginny tried to hide her chortle in her sleeve. Her brother's steamy romance with Luna Lovegood was one of the bright spots of Ginny's life - especially because Luna's often seriously inappropriate comments were a constant source of embarrassment to Ron.
"For shame, Ronald. What were you thinking?" Ginny whispered to the blushing redhead beside her. In reply, Ron smacked her leg under the table.
Harry cleared his throat. "May we continue?" he asked, giving the two Weasleys a reprimanding look.
"Okay, so that leaves Ron and me. Ron will be on the research end - if any of you come upon a name, a place, a date, anything, owl it to Ron at the Burrow immediately. There is nothing suspicious about owling him there - we're all friends and family, after all. I'll be running the operations base, obviously. I expect progress reports daily from you, Hermione, and from you, Luna. Ginny, you'll report daily to Hermione and she'll include your findings in what she sends me. If any of you feel yourselves to be in danger, activate your locator badge - Aurors will be standing by around the clock. Mad-Eye will check on things periodically, but this is our mission, folks. Our chance to prove ourselves as the newest members of the Ministry's Elite Spy Squad. And believe me, once we catch that smarmy git red-handed, we will have shown ourselves to be the very best of the M.E.S.S. Dirty Slytherin thinks he can hide what he really is! Thinks he can start up a new band of Death Eaters right under my nose, does he?" Harry's last sentence drifted into angry mumblings.
"Harry?" said Ginny, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, there?"
"Fine," said Harry. "Questions, anyone? Good then. Meeting adjourned."
Quickly, everyone but Ginny rose from the conference table. The two couples, Luna and Ron, and Harry and Hermione, exited together already discussing their plans for dinner at a new restaurant in Diagon Alley, leaving Colin alone with Ginny.
"Er, Ginny, would you like to stop off for coffee, perchance?" he asked with a nervous smile. Ginny looked up at the overly-excitable blond and smiled regretfully.
"Sorry, Colin, can't. I've got to get my stuff packed for tomorrow. Maybe next time, yeah?"
"Oh, sure, Ginny! I completely understand. I'll let you get to it, then. Good luck with the mission!" And with barely concealed relief, Colin left the room. Ginny rolled her eyes. She just knew Ron was pressuring Colin to date her; Ron would do about anything to see her with someone "respectable" - meaning someone he could keep an eye on.
Ginny had succumbed to his pressuring and tried dating Neville Longbottom a few months ago. Neville was a great guy - very considerate, always polite - but Ginny had been bored stiff. Luckily, Ginny's black thumb had left Neville with little regret when she called the relationship off. She still cringed at the memory of him coming home after a three-day herbological conference to find the brugmansia sanguinea she'd been asked to water a dry, shriveled waste.
"Edna!" he cried, falling to his knees beside the pot and shaking his fists skyward. "No! Nooooooo!"
Two calming draughts later, the two decided to go their separate ways.
Ginny sighed. She wanted to be in a relationship, but work kept her so impossibly busy she never had a chance to meet people. And this new mission was going to isolate her even more. Stuck in Malfoy Manor posing as a maid - the idea was crazy. Secretly Ginny thought Harry was a bit off his rocker for believing Draco Malfoy was trying to start up the Death Eaters again. Malfoy was a slimy git, but he had been helpful during the war, and he'd never struck Ginny as particularly diabolical. Annoying, sure. A complete prat, definitely. But the embodiment of evil? Ginny had her doubts.
She'd be stuck with Hermione the whole time, too. Not that Ginny didn't love Hermione, but she knew dealing with her around the clock could get wearing. Hermione took the M.E.S.S. almost too seriously sometimes. She was very rigid about following protocol, whereas Ginny liked to follow her instincts. Hermione, however, was the commanding officer, which meant that Ginny often had to bite her tongue and follow the older woman's orders.
Ironically, it was Hermione's short-lived career in politics that made this new mission possible. Fresh out of Hogwarts, Hermione had taken S.P.E.W. straight to the Ministry, and with Harry, war hero and all-around great guy backing her, the initiative was soon made law. House-elves were freed from slavery and a minimum wage was established for them. The majority of the wizarding world didn't care one way or another, but the elite, the pureblood families who owned the house-elves, were enraged. Owl posts arrived daily with loads of anonymous death threats and hexes. Hermione quickly decided that politics weren't for her, and joined Harry and Ron as an Auror. It had been three years since the House-Elf Freedom Act became law, and Hermione had only recently stopped receiving owled hexes.
~*~*~*~
Draco's humming was interrupted by the housekeeper, Mrs. Abbott.
"I've finalized the list of new hires, Mr. Malfoy. I just need your signature at the bottom to send on to accounting."
"Leave it there, Abbott. I'd like to look it over first."
"Right, sir," the portly witch replied, depositing the parchment on Draco's desk.
Sighing, Draco glanced at the list. Maintaining a staff of wizards and witches to run the manor had been a bit of a headache to him. It was all the fault of that self-righteous mudblood Granger and her stupid Freedom Act. At least she got what she deserved afterwards. The pureblooded families had drummed her out of politics following the passage of the Act. Draco smirked; his mother had only recently given up on the weekly hex she'd been owling her for the last three years.
"Stupid Granger," Draco murmured. Back at school that girl had lived to annoy him. He had a sneaking suspicion it was because she had a crush on him - not surprising given his inherent sexiness. But speaking of the mudblood, what was her name doing on the list of new maids? And Ginny Weasley, too? Surely Granger could find some other work after her failed political career? And the girl Weasel, sure she must be poor, but was she so bad off that she needed to be a maid? In Draco's experience, only near-Squibs and Hogwarts dropouts took those types of jobs. Something was fishy about this . . . .
"Oh, I get it now," Draco said, a low chuckle erupting from the back of his throat. Granger had been in love with him at Hogwarts. And the Weasley girl, he'd seen the way she looked at him sometimes. He could tell she wanted him.
"They can't get over me. They're so desperate that they're willing to become maids just to be near me." Draco laughed. "Oh, I'm going to have some fun with this," he said with a wide smirk.
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