Contour

Chapter 4: First Scandal

Sorry for the long wait, things got busy with college. Thank you all for the reviews, keep 'em coming! They are an author's gasoline xD

After Blaise had gotten past the inevitable shock that his best mate was not a beauty guru, but a wizard, he started concocting a plan to hide this without it turning into a scandal. If Malfoy Cosmetics fell apart because of this, the other Draco will murder him in his sleep and dump his body into the ocean, and he did not want to go like that.

He couldn't believe he had asked Tinker Bell [he was starting to get confused with the names so he resorted to giving wizard Draco a name that was easy to remember], to interview with the reporters! No wonder the lad looked so out of his element. He told Tinker Bell that he was going to have to pretend to be a guru at least until the launch party was over and they were back home.

"I'll do most of the talking if anyone asks about the company or the palette, I'm his spokesperson anyway so nobody will find it odd. When we get you back home, you can hocus pocus your way back to your wizard world."

Draco had no idea what the bloody hell 'hocus pocus' meant. Was that the muggle interpretation of magic? Yet again, another thing to add to the Inferiority List.

"Hocus pocus is not a real spell, asshat, and see that's the thing- the only reason I told you who I really was is because I have no clue how to get home. I don't have my wand with me, and the book that transported me here is back in my world."

Blaise sighed. "We can talk about this later, I hear the crowd getting louder which means Harry Potter is here. Do you have a Harry Potter in your world, or do you need me to tell you who he is?"

Draco smiled bitterly, his left eye twitching slightly. "I have never heard of him."

"Oh, no worries mate. All you need to know is that he's a very important documentary filmmaker. I think he's going to offer to make one about you, and you're going to say yes. You're also going to take a picture with him. He's a nice guy, kinda sorta famous."

Of course he was, and Blaise must have noticed his distaste, because of what he said next.

"Don't blow this," he said. "If something happens to Draco's image or his company while he's away, I'm going to pay the price, and I'd rather not be thrown into the River Thames butt-naked. Understood? Good."

Before Draco could inquire what Blaise meant by that, he was dragged back to the party. Potter was greeting the reporters while Weasley filmed him using a large camera. Potter then directed his attention to the inanimate object, speaking to it as if it were a person.

"Mr. Potter! A pleasure," Blaise greeted as the two shook hands. Weasley filmed. "I'm Blaise, we spoke on the phone."

"Please, call me Harry. It's a pleasure to meet you, Blaise."

Their eyes met, and Draco looked away. He hadn't made eye contact with Potter since he was saved from the fire in the Room of Requirement— it felt like that had been ages ago.

Blaise nudged him and glared.

"I'm truly sorry about what I said," Harry said. "I hope we can get past any bad blood. Truce?"

He held out his hand, and Draco almost laughed at the irony of it all. A few years ago, he had been the one holding out his hand to the boy who lived, only to be flatly rejected. He had half a mind to do the same to this Potter, but he reminded himself that Blaise's dignity was on the line, so he gulped down his resentment and shook hands with him.

Potter smiled warmly and firmly gripped his hand, and Draco swallowed a lump in his throat.

This was wrong, oh this felt so wrong…

Snap. Snap. Snap. The reporters took pictures— this was definitely going to land in the front page of every tabloid. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter shaking hands cordially— it was all a nightmare. A year ago they had tried to kill each other in a toilet. What would Father say about this?

"Truce," he managed to say. He nodded curtly in Weasley's direction, who nodded back.

Blaise got rid of the reporters and a waitress walked by them with shots of vodka on her tray. Draco took one swiftly, muggle alcohol or not, he refused to be sober if he was expected to cordially speak with Potter all night. He held onto another just in case.

Ron raised an eyebrow, and Harry wasn't paying attention. He was smiling and hearing Blaise talk about the weather. He wasn't supposed to be smiling! He was supposed to be scowling!

"Sorry about Draco, he's more quiet today than usual because he got his tonsils removed earlier this week."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Malfoy had sounded just fine when they were on the phone a couple days ago, but he didn't ask. He smiled again. Draco took another shot.

"That's no problem. I actually came to propose something to you Draco."

A strike of chills ran down Draco's back like lightning. Potter had called him Draco. He reached for another drink from the waitress' tray and took another shot. Ron furrowed his eyebrows.

Blaise looked horrified, giving him a "please stop you're embarrassing me" look.

Draco cleared his throat. "The alcohol numbs my throat. My tonsils are still hurting a bit, sorry about that."

"Really?" Ron looked bewildered. "I'll have to tell my brother George about that, he's getting his removed next week."

"I don't think that's such a good idea Ron," Harry warned. "George is already chaotic without the influence."

"Yeah, you're right, he'll just have to suffer."

Blaise laughed in good nature. Draco wanted another shot. The Ministry should have kept him in Azkaban.

"As I was saying," Harry said, letting his green eyes land on Draco's. "Are you familiar with my documentary series on Youtube? I've been struggling to find inspiration for a new idea, and our scruffle this week has inspired me. I think the world needs to start seeing you for you Draco, and I think I can make that happen. That is, if you trust me."

Draco slightly widened his eyes. Did he trust Potter? He certainly didn't like the git, but he supposed the Gryffindor had never given him a reason not to trust him. "Yes… I have heard about it, and I'm interested."

His doppleganger owed him a fortune if they ever crossed paths, Draco was selling his soul over here! Harry looked surprised, almost like he had expected a rejection.

"You can settle all the logistics with me," Blaise dove in quickly. "We trust that you have good intentions and that you won't use this opportunity to do something malicious. I will create a contract that can please both parties accordingly. We can give you a tour of the factory and sign the contract there. Sound good?"

Harry nodded. "It's a deal."

Draco felt nauseous. He'd had too many shots, and this wasn't the last time he was going to see Potter.

The night had ended relatively well. Potter and Weasley had left after their talk, and Pansy had dragged Draco to the dance floor to dance. The alcohol definitely helped, if he was being quite honest.

Blaise had told him that him and Potter's meeting was going to end up on the front cover of every tabloid, but that had not been the case—

DRACO MALFOY HAS DADDY ISSUES! MALFOY SR DISOWNS SON!

Draco woke up the next morning to thousands of missing calls from Blaise, Pansy, a few other people he didn't recognise— and Severus Snape.

Draco couldn't believe it. Snape was still alive? He figured it made sense, since the war never happened here. He got dressed and went downstairs, where the potions master himself was speaking to his mother.

"There you are!" he scolded. "Would you explain to me why you haven't been answering my calls? Sit down! We need to talk!"

"I'll make you two some tea," Narcissa said as she hurried out of the room.

Draco sat down on the sofa. Snape looked exactly the same, except less greasy, and his hair was cut shorter. He held a briefcase and set it down on the tea table, pulling out a set of documents and a pen. "I'm sure you've seen the tabloids."

He hadn't, which earned him another scolding from his former teacher and mentor. Snape handed him a paper copy of the tabloid article. Rita Skeeter wrote about how his father had disowned him for becoming a crossdressing disappointment, and how Draco had [untruthfully] said that Lucius had five mistresses and once slept with his secretary.

"Draco," Snape lowered his voice, sounding like a parent scolding their child. "Your father is suing you for defamation. I do hope you understand the severity of the situation. Let me remind you that telling the tabloids about your personal life is inappropriate."

"I didn't say any of this!" Draco exclaimed. "She's pulling this out of her own arse! I've never said a word about my father!"

But maybe the other Draco had…

"I know. Zabini already confirmed that for me," Snape said, taking the document from Draco's hands and setting it back in his briefcase. "Which is why you and I are meeting with your father and his lawyer this afternoon to discuss a proper settlement that won't result in you having to go to court. I know seeing your father is something you find distasteful, but this must be done."

He closed his briefcase. Draco wondered what had happened between his counterpart and his father to result in them having this kind of relationship. What kind of father sued his own son? He and Lucius had never been the perfect father and son either, but Draco knew his father would do anything to protect him and his mother. At least… he thought so.

"Wait, how many shots did he have?" Hermione asked. "Three?"

Ron was filming the trio taking the tube to Westminster School— Hermione had arranged a meeting with Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, who led the institution when Draco was a student. Harry was to film the first part of his documentary. He had a feeling Malfoy was going to be too closed off to open up to the public, and Harry didn't want the documentary to be a promotional video for Malfoy Cosmetics, so he had the idea of trailing Draco's past and seeing what he could gather.

"Apparently it helped with his tonsils," Harry grinned as he tapped his Oyster Card and entered the station. Ron and Hermione followed suit, the latter furrowing her eyebrows.

"There's no way. That's not possible! I think alcohol only makes it worse."

"To be fair, he was acting a little off," Harry said. "Probably MaryJane."

"You don't sincerely think Draco Malfoy does pot do you?" Ron asked, holding the camera still. "He seems more like the nicotine type. You know, like those French people who lounge over their couches and rage over their poodles."

"Ron, since when has that existed?"

"Don't know, a lot of American movies portray French people that way, or maybe I'm just thinking of Cruella de Vil."

"Is Cruella de Vil French?" Hermione asked. "I thought she was English."

"I thought she was American," Harry snorted. "Then again, I only saw the live action movie."

They waited for the train, and Ron and Hermione continued to argue whether or not Cruella was French or English. Meanwhile Harry stopped to think about Malfoy. The lad had acted a bit more oddly than usual. He had never met him in person, and Harry had expected him to be more… flamboyant and in control of the conversation. That's how he acted in his interviews and his Youtube videos, both resources Harry had spent the entire night researching.

There had been one video taken by a tabloid of Malfoy sticking his middle finger up while the interviewer asked him intrusive questions about his mother— like if she was planning to remarry and such. Where had that Malfoy been? The self-obsessed beauty guru who wasn't afraid to speak his mind and owned a multimillion dollar company.

When they arrived at the school, they were allowed into McGonagall's office by a grumpy man named Argus Filch. Filch was especially annoyed when he had seen Ron holding the camera, muttering something along the lines of "stupid millennials."

Ron turned off the camera while Harry and Hermione introduced themselves and asked McGonagall if it was okay to film, letting her know that Draco was aware that the documentary was being made and they wouldn't post anything without his approval.

Ron turned the camera back on when she agreed, and the trio took a seat across her desk.

"I'm just going to ask you a few questions and I want you to answer them as honestly and accurately as you can," Harry said. "What was Draco Malfoy like as a student at this institution?"

"Oh, very studious!" McGonagall explained. "He was number one in his class, and he was very involved in extracurricular activities such as art, dance, and football. Malfoy is a very talented man, as you may have already realised."

"What changed?" Harry asked. "If he was so studious, why expel him?"

McGonagall sighed and removed her glasses, wiping them with a cloth. "I don't know what changed, one minute he was the best student at this institution and the next he was vandalising school property, harassing his peers, and doing the exact opposite of what this school stands for. I will say this though, we had an entrepreneur named Olympe Maxime visit our school the week before Mr. Malfoy changed."

"Olympe Maxime?"

"She owns a cosmetic and fashion empire in France," Hermione explained. "She's best known for her skin care products."

"Precisely," McGonagall said, placing her glasses back on. "Now, I'm not saying she had anything to do with him changing— but she may have inspired him to pursue the beauty industry. I wish I could tell you why he changed, but I'm just as much in the dark as everybody else. He seems to have picked himself up though, and I'm glad it was just a phase."

"Could you think of anything or anyone we could speak to that may help us find out what really happened?" Harry asked.

"Well, you could try Blaise Zabini, he was and is Mr. Malfoy's closest friend, but I don't think he was aware of what was going on either. I called him into my office one time and asked, and all he said was that Malfoy had found a new high school in the countryside and was working part-time with a cattle herder named Hagrid. Ah! Maybe he should be the next person you speak to."

Harry smiled, yes! That's exactly what he needed, a lead.

"Well thank you so much for your time Headmistress McGonagall."

"It was my pleasure."

Ron turned off the camera, and just as the trio were leaving, McGonagall stopped Harry.

"Mr. Potter, I do hope you have the best intentions at heart with this video. Although Mr. Malfoy may seem a certain way on screen, he has a pure heart, please do take the time to get to know him. He's a young man of many layers."

"I will, Headmistress, and believe me when I say I will do everything in my power to peel each layer."

Draco made a mental note of asking Blaise for a full on report on who the other him was and who he was affiliated with, because he was starting to get sick and tired of all the surprises.

Tom Riddle, this world's most normal looking muggle and the wizarding world's very own Voldemort was his father's lawyer, and Draco definitely didn't need Snape to lie him down because he was on the verge of fainting, definitely not.

When he had gotten past the initial shock and stopped seeing the dark lord as anything other than he-who-must-not-be-named or whatever, Draco got a good look at the man. His dark hair was swayed to the side, he wore a grey tuxedo, and he had a proper nose.

The dark wizard that hates muggles with a passion was now a muggle himself, and that was the kind of twisted humour Draco would have laughed at if he still wasn't so terrified of him.

When Draco locked eyes with him, he found himself feeling light headed all over again. Tom Riddle glared, his eyes piercing daggers into him. Draco looked away, biting his inner cheek to prevent himself from fainting. Snape raised an eyebrow.

Tom Riddle smirked. "No smart remark today hm? What happened to that insolent tongue of yours? Guilt?"

Insolent tongue… smart remark… against Voldemort! The other him was mental!

"Don't think I haven't forgotten what you said the last time we met. Still think my face looks old, discoloured, and viper-like? You have some nerve."

Draco almost gasped. He had said that to Voldemort, and he was still alive?

"Perhaps not a viper," Snape said with a small smile. "I would suggest… a serpent, perhaps."

Before Tom Riddle could snap back, Lucius entered the room. "Don't bother with them Tom, Narcissa's son has a tendency of surrounding himself with… dynamic individuals."

Draco realized that Lucius refused to look at him, almost pretending like he wasn't there. The entire time Snape and Tom Riddle did most of the talking, and Draco tried getting his father's attention, but Lucius didn't spare a single glance at him.

Snape explained the situation, and noted that he didn't see the necessity in taking the situation to court because Draco had never said anything negative, that it was an attempt by the tabloids to stir the pot. "Going to court will only prove detrimental to both parties. We'll be giving the tabloids the scandal they want."

Snape provided the proof necessary that liberated Draco from all guilt. Tom Riddle looked over them and sneered, he was really hoping he had them this time— for years he'd been aching to defeat Draco Malfoy in court. That brat deserved it.

"Very well, I will look over this closely in my office and give you a final response in due time. But now that we're here, my client has offered five thousand pounds in exchange for Draco to remove Malfoy as his last name. Something to consider—"

"My client will do no such thing," Snape said. It appeared as if Snape had already had that conversation with the other him. "And that is our final answer. Good day."

Lucius left the room as soon as the talk had ended, not even leaving Draco the opportunity to say something. The curiosity was killing him.

When he arrived home he looked through his counterpart's room, looking for any clues that may indicate what had gone wrong between him and Lucius. Although he didn't find anything that had to do with Father, he did find a chest in his wardrobe.

Inside was a bottle of green hair dye, fake piercings, and a ticket to enter an exclusive event at a pub called The Throne. The ticket was time-marked four years ago, and there was a note written on the back.

Draco,

Meet me on the second floor during the performance. Come alone, I'll be waiting for you.

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