It's ALLLIIIIVEE....+ drabble
Hello world,
So, I have been totally absent from LJ for a while, for various life related reason, but I am back! Yay!
Plus one shot! More yay! It's a little bit random, but I hope you enjoy it anyways!
Breaking the Boys Club.
The first day she walked in, Draco nearly spit out his coffee.
It wasn’t that he was surprised, oh no, even if the HR manager hadn’t sent around a memo, it would never have surprised him that she should work for the most prestigious wizarding law firm in the U.K., or that (loath as he was to admit it) her prodigious intelligence academic success should land her in the same place that money and family name landed him: the associates floor.
It was what she was wearing. He was going to have to reconsider that intelligence thing.
Most of the women on the floor had learned very quickly that affirmative action was no joke around Murgatroid, Mettle, and Harp. Witches were hired for their talents in the field of law, just as the wizards were, and were expected to behave as such. Thus, a strict pant suit and severe hairstyle were almost uniform. There was to be no coquettish pencil skirts, no blousy button downs, jaunty scarves were not to be thought of and merlin forbid hair that was merely clasped at the nape of the neck.
And yet… all of these things had just come waltzing in on top of three inch stilettos belonging, rather annoyingly, to Hermione Granger. What had happened to the rather plain and tomboyish girl he had known at school?
He recovered himself enough to smirk at her as she walked into the senior barrister’s office and was only mildly surprised when she completely ignored him with not even so much as a toss of her head.
She’d learn. Probably walk out of the office crying before noon.
But she didn’t. In fact, he could have sworn he saw the senior barrister crack a smile as he escorted her to her desk, which was rather unfortunately located directly across the corridor from his own. He’d have to see her every time he looked up from his work.
The second day, he walked in to find Granger already at work in with her little black and silver nameplate sitting arrogantly at the front of her desk.
It had taken him three weeks to get his nameplate! He glared daggers at the office manager as he walked by.
Granger gave him a girlish wave and a little wink.
He decided it would be more effective to glare daggers at her.
This time she did toss her head at him. And he didn’t like it one bit.
At the end of the first week, Draco was ready to commit murder. That frizzy bucktoothed witch had just been put on the Gavrock case. He had been angling for that case for months!
He stalked across the corridor to her desk.
“Listen Granger,” he growled at her, the first words he had spoken to her since she was hired.
She held up one perfectly manicured finger at him, effectively silencing his comment as she answered whoever was on the phone. Non-wizard obviously, or she’d have been on her desk-top fireplace.
“I understand your concern your terribleness,” Granger said in a tone that managed to be charmingly sweet and yet ever so slightly ironic at the same time, “But if you want to carry out your ritual at all, you are just going to have to wait for the paperwork to come through.”
It was Gavrok, only he insisted upon that title. And why wouldn’t you if you were an eight foot tall baby eating demon?
“I have read the brief, I know the deadline, but the ministry has put their foot down on this. You are going to have to accept a substitute or you will face the entire college of aurors. And, I don’t have to tell you, we will not raise so much as a quill to stop them. I know that you are a fiercely intelligent warrior, and you understand strategy better than to risk that, your terribleness.”
Indistinct noises somewhat akin to a cement mixer came from the phone. Apparently it was good cement mixing, because Granger smiled brilliantly.
“Of course, I will let the partners know your decision, an absolute pleasure as always.”
She hung up.
“Was that Gavrok?”
She nodded.
“And he’s going to agree to the substitution clause?”
Another, rather self satisfied, nod.
“and you did this?”
“It was simply really,” she pulled out a nail file. A NAIL FILE. “Just had to understand the meaning of the ritual. Transfigured steaks won’t affect the symbolism.”
Draco was starting to sound a little bit like a cement mixer too.
He grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her roughly out into the hallway.
“Hey! Ouch!” Hermione twisted her arm away from him, “What do you think you’re doing Malfoy?”
“This has to stop!” Draco fairly growled at her.
“What has to stop?” Hermione asked in exasperation.
“This is not how things are done” he raged.
“Whatever do you mean by that?” she asked, having the nerve to bat her eyelashes at him. Oh she knew exactly what he meant.
“You! With your skirts and your perfume and your nail file. Why don’t you wear suits like all the other witches who have passed the bar?”
Hermione crossed her arms firmly and glared at him. “And what do you think that would accomplish?” she asked.
“Oh come on Granger, don’t you want anyone to take you seriously?”
She smirked at him. Wasn’t that his job?
“You think people don’t take me seriously? How exactly do you think I got put on the Gavrok case. Was it because I was more experienced than you? Or any of the other witches in the office? No. It’s because I am better at dealing with clients that you. And all the other witches in the office.”
Draco spluttered.
“And do you know why?” she continued with laser sharp acuity, “it is because I am a woman, and not in spite of it. If you think that a skirt and a nice blouse changes anything about my credentials or my abilities, and if you think that wearing unflattering clothes and displaying male aggression would, in any way, make me a better barrister, then you don’t have half the intellect I have grudgingly given you credit for.”
She stopped, apparently finished her tirade.
Draco didn’t like Granger all that much, and he was still pretty hacked off at her, but he had to admit that she had a point. If he was allowed to look impeccably fashionable at work, why shouldn’t she?
Being a Malfoy, however, he had to make an attempt at the last word.
“It’s a wizards world, you know Granger,”
“Not a problem Malfoy,” she said, with a revoltingly arrogant grin, “So long as I can be a witch in it.” She sauntered back into the office, heels clicking against the floor.
Malfoy glared after her, but he couldn’t help but crack a grin. At least she would keep things interesting.
So, I have been totally absent from LJ for a while, for various life related reason, but I am back! Yay!
Plus one shot! More yay! It's a little bit random, but I hope you enjoy it anyways!
Breaking the Boys Club.
The first day she walked in, Draco nearly spit out his coffee.
It wasn’t that he was surprised, oh no, even if the HR manager hadn’t sent around a memo, it would never have surprised him that she should work for the most prestigious wizarding law firm in the U.K., or that (loath as he was to admit it) her prodigious intelligence academic success should land her in the same place that money and family name landed him: the associates floor.
It was what she was wearing. He was going to have to reconsider that intelligence thing.
Most of the women on the floor had learned very quickly that affirmative action was no joke around Murgatroid, Mettle, and Harp. Witches were hired for their talents in the field of law, just as the wizards were, and were expected to behave as such. Thus, a strict pant suit and severe hairstyle were almost uniform. There was to be no coquettish pencil skirts, no blousy button downs, jaunty scarves were not to be thought of and merlin forbid hair that was merely clasped at the nape of the neck.
And yet… all of these things had just come waltzing in on top of three inch stilettos belonging, rather annoyingly, to Hermione Granger. What had happened to the rather plain and tomboyish girl he had known at school?
He recovered himself enough to smirk at her as she walked into the senior barrister’s office and was only mildly surprised when she completely ignored him with not even so much as a toss of her head.
She’d learn. Probably walk out of the office crying before noon.
But she didn’t. In fact, he could have sworn he saw the senior barrister crack a smile as he escorted her to her desk, which was rather unfortunately located directly across the corridor from his own. He’d have to see her every time he looked up from his work.
The second day, he walked in to find Granger already at work in with her little black and silver nameplate sitting arrogantly at the front of her desk.
It had taken him three weeks to get his nameplate! He glared daggers at the office manager as he walked by.
Granger gave him a girlish wave and a little wink.
He decided it would be more effective to glare daggers at her.
This time she did toss her head at him. And he didn’t like it one bit.
At the end of the first week, Draco was ready to commit murder. That frizzy bucktoothed witch had just been put on the Gavrock case. He had been angling for that case for months!
He stalked across the corridor to her desk.
“Listen Granger,” he growled at her, the first words he had spoken to her since she was hired.
She held up one perfectly manicured finger at him, effectively silencing his comment as she answered whoever was on the phone. Non-wizard obviously, or she’d have been on her desk-top fireplace.
“I understand your concern your terribleness,” Granger said in a tone that managed to be charmingly sweet and yet ever so slightly ironic at the same time, “But if you want to carry out your ritual at all, you are just going to have to wait for the paperwork to come through.”
It was Gavrok, only he insisted upon that title. And why wouldn’t you if you were an eight foot tall baby eating demon?
“I have read the brief, I know the deadline, but the ministry has put their foot down on this. You are going to have to accept a substitute or you will face the entire college of aurors. And, I don’t have to tell you, we will not raise so much as a quill to stop them. I know that you are a fiercely intelligent warrior, and you understand strategy better than to risk that, your terribleness.”
Indistinct noises somewhat akin to a cement mixer came from the phone. Apparently it was good cement mixing, because Granger smiled brilliantly.
“Of course, I will let the partners know your decision, an absolute pleasure as always.”
She hung up.
“Was that Gavrok?”
She nodded.
“And he’s going to agree to the substitution clause?”
Another, rather self satisfied, nod.
“and you did this?”
“It was simply really,” she pulled out a nail file. A NAIL FILE. “Just had to understand the meaning of the ritual. Transfigured steaks won’t affect the symbolism.”
Draco was starting to sound a little bit like a cement mixer too.
He grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her roughly out into the hallway.
“Hey! Ouch!” Hermione twisted her arm away from him, “What do you think you’re doing Malfoy?”
“This has to stop!” Draco fairly growled at her.
“What has to stop?” Hermione asked in exasperation.
“This is not how things are done” he raged.
“Whatever do you mean by that?” she asked, having the nerve to bat her eyelashes at him. Oh she knew exactly what he meant.
“You! With your skirts and your perfume and your nail file. Why don’t you wear suits like all the other witches who have passed the bar?”
Hermione crossed her arms firmly and glared at him. “And what do you think that would accomplish?” she asked.
“Oh come on Granger, don’t you want anyone to take you seriously?”
She smirked at him. Wasn’t that his job?
“You think people don’t take me seriously? How exactly do you think I got put on the Gavrok case. Was it because I was more experienced than you? Or any of the other witches in the office? No. It’s because I am better at dealing with clients that you. And all the other witches in the office.”
Draco spluttered.
“And do you know why?” she continued with laser sharp acuity, “it is because I am a woman, and not in spite of it. If you think that a skirt and a nice blouse changes anything about my credentials or my abilities, and if you think that wearing unflattering clothes and displaying male aggression would, in any way, make me a better barrister, then you don’t have half the intellect I have grudgingly given you credit for.”
She stopped, apparently finished her tirade.
Draco didn’t like Granger all that much, and he was still pretty hacked off at her, but he had to admit that she had a point. If he was allowed to look impeccably fashionable at work, why shouldn’t she?
Being a Malfoy, however, he had to make an attempt at the last word.
“It’s a wizards world, you know Granger,”
“Not a problem Malfoy,” she said, with a revoltingly arrogant grin, “So long as I can be a witch in it.” She sauntered back into the office, heels clicking against the floor.
Malfoy glared after her, but he couldn’t help but crack a grin. At least she would keep things interesting.