Chapter Text
As closing time nears, Harry spends a few extra minutes straightening up the books on the holds shelf for customers to come by and pick up tomorrow. His coworker, Ron, might be his best friend but Harry recognizes that he really has no sense of organization. Although, that could come from being the second youngest in a big family. Harry’s more - unique- upbringing had instilled in him a very rigid sense of cleanliness that extended into his job. It didn’t hurt that he knew his other best friend, and manager, expected the book store to be in perfect condition at all times.
Just as Harry was about to flip off the neon Open sign on the front of the store the bell above the door jingled, letting him know a last minute customer had come in. With a sigh, Harry turned to the front of the shop ready to assist some harried parent or slow-moving elderly person, and was instead greeted by the sight of the pointiest man Harry had ever seen.
For a moment Harry just stood there, mouth slightly agape, before remembering his job and the quickly approaching closing time. “Welcome to Bookish Delights, can I help you find something?”
The pointy man turned to look fully at Harry and rumpled his brow. He was all angles with a pointy nose and chin, sharp elbows, and long feet. His white-blonde hair was swept back away from his face and he was wearing what Harry thought to be a very expensive suit, not that Harry had much experience with expensive things. “Yes, I believe you can. I read on your website that, if you don’t have a certain book in stock, you will do everything possible to acquire it for a customer? Provided it is possible to acquire it?”
Harry leaned his elbows on the counter as he responded. “That’s correct. Our store’s manager, Hermione, is very good at tracking down rare or out-of-print books. Of course, the customer does have to pay for how ever much extra it costs to retrieve the book they are asking for.”
At Harry’s mention of money the man gave a sharp shake of his head. “Money is not a problem. It’s finding this particular book that has been the issue. May I speak with your manager in order to begin the process of tracking it down?”
“Oh, Hermione isn’t actually here right now. It’s just me. But if you give me the details of the book I can put it in the system and leave a note for her so that she can start the search when she gets here in the morning. Or, if you prefer, you can come back tomorrow to speak to her in person. She’s supposed to work from eight until three.” As Harry spoke he pulled out a piece of paper and pen, ready to write down any details about the book.
The pointy man tapped a seemingly well-manicured finger nail on the top of the counter for a moment, considering his options, before saying, “I suppose I can leave the information with you. The sooner this book is found, the better, and I wouldn’t be able to come back tomorrow until after lunch.”
Harry smiled and uncapped his pen. “Awesome. Then if you will please give me the name and author of the book, any relevant information that might help us find it, and your own name, I’ll put it in the system right away.”
“The book is called Lilith’s Grimoire and there is no known author. It is said to have been written in the late sixteenth century, probably by someone associated with the witch trials of that time. There is only one original and that is what I am looking for, no a copy or imitation.” The man paused for a moment before adding, “And my name is Draco Malfoy.”
Harry had just finished scrawling the man’s, Draco, name when his brain caught up to how rare and special this book was. “Wow, you’re really taking this guarantee to heart. I think the most difficult request we’ve had before this was for a first edition Tolkien.”
Draco drew himself up into a straighter, even pointier line. “If you can’t find it just tell me. I don’t intend to spend money on amateurs.”
“No, wait! That’s not what I meant. I swear Hermione is really good at finding books, there just isn’t a lot of need for rare and intriguing magic books in this area. But if anyone can find your grimoire, Hermione can.” Harry almost reached over to put his hand on Draco’s coat, to keep him from leaving, but realized last minute that that would be an inappropriate way to treat a customer and instead put his hands flat on the counter.
Draco paused for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to walk out of the shop, before sighing, “Fine, but if she decides she can’t find the book, I want to know right away.”
“Okay, definitely. Then can you give me your phone number or email or something so we can contact you?” Harry pushed the paper and pen over to the other side the counter and watched as Draco wrote his phone number and email in precise handwriting. Then, Draco handed the pen back to Harry, nodded a good-bye, and swept out of the door. For a moment Harry just stood there, looking after him, before turning back to the computer to put in the book request.
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Draco slid into the backseat of the taxi he had asked to wait for him outside of the ridiculous little bookstore. He still wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him to try this avenue of searching for the book and he didn’t quite trust the messy haired man who had taken down the book’s information in a nearly illegible scrawl. Despite the website’s guarantee, Draco wondered if this Hermione really could find any book she looked for, and what it would cost him if she did find it.
Shaking off those thoughts before he could spiral into a black mood, Draco gave the taxi driver the name of his hotel and spent the ride looking out of his window at the New York sights that whizzed by. His first time in the city and he couldn’t even enjoy it, too busy trying to fulfill his father’s last request. So far he had found no-one who had even heard of the book, let alone been able to find any trace of it. He doubted the manager of a tiny bookstore would have any different luck, but one could hope.
The taxi driver pulled up to the hotel and Draco paid him with a generous tip for having actually waited while Draco was in the bookstore. The Four Seasons hotel is where Draco’s father, Lucius, had always stayed when in the city on business, and Draco had booked a room here to see what his father loved about the place. However, he hadn’t really had time to take in its opulence when he had arrived a few hours later. Now, though, he understood why his father refused to stay anywhere else. This hotel catered to the five-star demands of people just like his extravagant father.
Once back in his suite, Draco lined his shoes up with his other footwear choices by the door and hung his coat up in the entryway closet before sitting on the couch and powering up his laptop. While he was tempted to do yet another Google or Yahoo or Bing search for Lilith’s Grimoire, he instead pulled up the website for Bookish Delights. He had stumbled across the shop when looking for book dealers and had immediately been drawn in by their book-finding guarantee, but now he took the time to really peruse the website.
As far as he could tell the bookstore had three employees: the manager/owner Hermione Granger and two workers, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The bookstore had been opened four years prior and seemed to be doing pretty good business despite so many competing stores being in close proximity in the city. The few pictures on the website that included the employees together made him think they were friends just as much as coworkers, with their arms slung around each other and wide open smiles. Draco felt a brief pang of jealousy for that easy closeness before he very quickly quashed the feeling. Malfoys did not experience jealousy, because everything they wanted they got.
Except for this damn book. With a snap, Draco closed his laptop and tossed it onto the cushion beside him before rubbing his eyes with his palms. He allowed himself one full minute of just sitting still before standing, stretching, and preparing to order room service. He knew if he sat still enough the black mood from the taxi ride would over take him, and then where would he be?