01. Frustration
“You did what?” Draco scoffed as he paced the living room floor.
His mother lay on her favorite chaise, sipping tea. “I’m not saying you need help, I just think it might be nice to try. Many young men have had success with this program.”
“Mother, I am young, successful, handsome—”
“Unmarried,” she interrupted. “It’s really the least you could do for your poor mother.”
“Argh!” Draco scowled, stopping mid-pace and dropping his head into his hands, rubbing at his eyebrows. He knew what she was insinuating. He was indebted to her for all those years ago and she wanted to collect.
There was no use arguing either. Once his mother had an idea, he might as well see it through until the point where he could show her it wouldn’t work. He’d see this ‘date doctor’ once or twice, give his mother substantiated reasons why this was not a course for him and she’d drop it. “Where and what time, mother?” he asked, sighing his defeat.
Narcissa smiled, setting her teacup back on its dish. “Tomorrow afternoon, two o’clock. Do be on time and dress nicely.”
“Mother! Do I ever not dress nicely?”
Narcissa simply shrugged. He knew she was referring to some of the Muggle-style clothing he’d taken to wearing. A nice Armani suit was a good as the finest dress robes, but not in his mother’s mind. She was still old school, although she knew the rest of the wizarding world had moved on.
xxx
The following day, Draco put on a nice set of dress robes. He didn’t want to wear formal dress robes, figuring something between formal and casual would do. He was utterly dreading this, but he dreaded confrontations with his overbearing mother more. He would go today and get it over with.
Draco Apparated to the port in Diagon Alley and looked for the address his mother had given him. The Date Doctor’s office was in a nice, new building near Flourish and Blotts. He entered and took the lift to the fourth floor.
He found suite four-eleven and opened the door. A cute young witch sat behind a large, cherry desk. The office was tastefully and richly decorated. Draco was impressed. Though, seeing as this woman made a lot of money helping… men less fortunate in looks and ability with the fairer sex, he simply shrugged. He wished he’d thought of this idea first, but he had his own business endeavors that made him a generous salary every month without requiring too much actual work on his part.
“Mr. Malfoy, here for the two o’clock,” he said as he sat down on a plush sofa. The young witch nodded. Draco smirked. The young witch no doubt knew who he was and what he was worth. He’d probably get a date and good shag out of it if he worked his charm right.
To his surprise, the witch simply said something into a box; nodded at a voice he couldn’t hear and motioned for him to follow her down a short hallway.
“The Doctor is expecting you,” she said, gesturing for him to open the office door and go on in. Draco nodded.
He opened the door as the young witch set off back to her desk without so much as a backwards glance. The sight that met him as he entered the office was not what he had been expecting.
A pair of long, toned legs stretched from a plum skirt and into a pair of extremely high heels. The body that these legs belonged to was currently bent over a file cabinet, flipping through folders.
When the woman straightened up, her long wavy hair tumbled down the back of her matching plum jacket. Draco licked his lips unconsciously.
“Ah, Mr. Malfoy,” the woman said as she found the file she was looking for and turned around. To Draco’s surprise, he recognized her although he couldn’t recall her name.
“Yes, Mrs…” he prompted.
“It’s Miss Weasley or Doctor Weasley, actually,” she said as she strode up to him and extended her hand. He shook it, his jaw gaping open in a most unbecoming fashion. He quickly closed it upon realization. The Weasley girl smirked at him like she'd been the Slytherin.
“So you’re Weasley’s little sister, eh?” he said, trying to recover.
“Something like that,” she stated, walking gracefully back behind her desk and taking a seat. “So, your mother tells me you need help with women. What seems to be the trouble?” she asked, folding her arms across her desk and giving him a pointed look.
“The thing you have to understand, Doctor Weasley, is that there is my mother’s view of reality, and then there is reality itself. Oftentimes they are not consistent with each other.” Ah, he had regained his composure. He very nearly sighed out his relief. When she said nothing, he kept going. “You’re obviously a well-connected young woman. I am sure you know from the society pages that I do quite well for myself.”
“Yes, it would appear that way but your mother is concerned that none of your relationships last. And, after setting you up with a number of young women she finds perfectly agreeable, she assumes that the problem lies with you, not them.”
Oh, he could tell she was enjoying this too much. He would show her! “Doctor,” he paused. “Are you actually a doctor or is it just a marketing ploy?” he asked, leaning forward in anticipation of her answer. She smirked again and gestured to the framed parchments behind her.
“May I?” he asked, getting up without her approval. He perused, hands in his pockets, the wall of framed certificates. Her Hogwarts Diploma was there, along with one from a prestigious Healing school and another from a Muggle institution. Miss Weasley had a certificate stating top honors in Psychology. “Ah yes, well Doctor it is then,” he said as he returned to his seat.
“So what do you think is the problem, Mr. Malfoy?” she asked politely.
“The thing is doc, I just don’t find anyone that interests me. Yes, the women I have on my arm are attractive and have the right pedigree, but they are lacking in other areas. Aside from physical beauty, and,” he paused and smiled for effect, “physical pleasure, they have no more to offer.”
“I wonder,” Doctor Weasley began, “have you ever dated someone for their intelligence or conversational skills? Perhaps someone with whom you got along but not someone you found attractive at first sight?” Draco stared at her as though he had no idea what she meant.
“Mr. Malfoy, I know you are no fool. I know you competed with Hermione Granger-Weasley for top marks in your year. Perhaps what you need is to meet women that are more… how do I put this? Scholarly.”
“Yes, but there are no attractive women like that,” he scoffed.
“Perhaps you should go out with women who you find intellectually stimulating and the physical aspect will come later,” she suggested.
“So I should find someone I can talk to, even if they aren’t attractive, and maybe I will grow to be physically attracted to them?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes. Does that sound so difficult?”
Draco huffed and rolled his eyes. “The problem with women who have brains like Granger — Weasley… whatever her name is now— is that they are smart to an annoying degree. And on top of that, a completely unattractive witch could never be found attractive!”
“That’s a bit shallow, wouldn’t you say? Don’t you think there might be some middle ground?”
“What? Like you?” he asked, pasting on his signature smirk. At this, the Doctor flushed. “Actually, you’re not married either. You’re what, a year younger than me? You’re obviously smart and successful. You’re not completely unfortunate looking. Why are you still single then? How come you haven’t snagged Potter yet if this is what you are an expert on?”
Her flush grew brighter as her anger rose. “My personal relationship with Mr. Potter is none of your affair. You are paying me to help you, not the other way ‘round.”
“Ah, well I see I’ve struck a nerve. I mean honestly though— has no one ever brought this up? I suppose I would expect an expert to have success in the area which they excel at!”
“I haven’t found the right person yet,” she emphasized. “Just because he hasn’t come along does not mean my advice doesn’t work!”
“Temper, temper, Doctor. I am merely pointing out—“
“Yes, I get what you are so kind to point out. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to move the conversation back to you and our next steps in this process.”
“Our next steps? Is that a proposal?” He could see it in her eyes with this last comment: she had had enough.
“Mr. Malfoy, our next step is for you to escort me on a faux-date, as you would any other young lady. I will point out to you areas of improvement, which may help your luck with women. I will owl your mother with an itinerary. Good day!” she scoffed as she stood, gesturing for him to leave.
He left with a big grin on his face. He had her just where he wanted her. Spending a bit more time with her couldn’t hurt. He’d have proof for his mother that there was nothing wrong with him, and maybe he’d get shag out of it all. The Doctor was definitely shaggable, Weasley or no.
“You did what?” Draco scoffed as he paced the living room floor.
His mother lay on her favorite chaise, sipping tea. “I’m not saying you need help, I just think it might be nice to try. Many young men have had success with this program.”
“Mother, I am young, successful, handsome—”
“Unmarried,” she interrupted. “It’s really the least you could do for your poor mother.”
“Argh!” Draco scowled, stopping mid-pace and dropping his head into his hands, rubbing at his eyebrows. He knew what she was insinuating. He was indebted to her for all those years ago and she wanted to collect.
There was no use arguing either. Once his mother had an idea, he might as well see it through until the point where he could show her it wouldn’t work. He’d see this ‘date doctor’ once or twice, give his mother substantiated reasons why this was not a course for him and she’d drop it. “Where and what time, mother?” he asked, sighing his defeat.
Narcissa smiled, setting her teacup back on its dish. “Tomorrow afternoon, two o’clock. Do be on time and dress nicely.”
“Mother! Do I ever not dress nicely?”
Narcissa simply shrugged. He knew she was referring to some of the Muggle-style clothing he’d taken to wearing. A nice Armani suit was a good as the finest dress robes, but not in his mother’s mind. She was still old school, although she knew the rest of the wizarding world had moved on.
xxx
The following day, Draco put on a nice set of dress robes. He didn’t want to wear formal dress robes, figuring something between formal and casual would do. He was utterly dreading this, but he dreaded confrontations with his overbearing mother more. He would go today and get it over with.
Draco Apparated to the port in Diagon Alley and looked for the address his mother had given him. The Date Doctor’s office was in a nice, new building near Flourish and Blotts. He entered and took the lift to the fourth floor.
He found suite four-eleven and opened the door. A cute young witch sat behind a large, cherry desk. The office was tastefully and richly decorated. Draco was impressed. Though, seeing as this woman made a lot of money helping… men less fortunate in looks and ability with the fairer sex, he simply shrugged. He wished he’d thought of this idea first, but he had his own business endeavors that made him a generous salary every month without requiring too much actual work on his part.
“Mr. Malfoy, here for the two o’clock,” he said as he sat down on a plush sofa. The young witch nodded. Draco smirked. The young witch no doubt knew who he was and what he was worth. He’d probably get a date and good shag out of it if he worked his charm right.
To his surprise, the witch simply said something into a box; nodded at a voice he couldn’t hear and motioned for him to follow her down a short hallway.
“The Doctor is expecting you,” she said, gesturing for him to open the office door and go on in. Draco nodded.
He opened the door as the young witch set off back to her desk without so much as a backwards glance. The sight that met him as he entered the office was not what he had been expecting.
A pair of long, toned legs stretched from a plum skirt and into a pair of extremely high heels. The body that these legs belonged to was currently bent over a file cabinet, flipping through folders.
When the woman straightened up, her long wavy hair tumbled down the back of her matching plum jacket. Draco licked his lips unconsciously.
“Ah, Mr. Malfoy,” the woman said as she found the file she was looking for and turned around. To Draco’s surprise, he recognized her although he couldn’t recall her name.
“Yes, Mrs…” he prompted.
“It’s Miss Weasley or Doctor Weasley, actually,” she said as she strode up to him and extended her hand. He shook it, his jaw gaping open in a most unbecoming fashion. He quickly closed it upon realization. The Weasley girl smirked at him like she'd been the Slytherin.
“So you’re Weasley’s little sister, eh?” he said, trying to recover.
“Something like that,” she stated, walking gracefully back behind her desk and taking a seat. “So, your mother tells me you need help with women. What seems to be the trouble?” she asked, folding her arms across her desk and giving him a pointed look.
“The thing you have to understand, Doctor Weasley, is that there is my mother’s view of reality, and then there is reality itself. Oftentimes they are not consistent with each other.” Ah, he had regained his composure. He very nearly sighed out his relief. When she said nothing, he kept going. “You’re obviously a well-connected young woman. I am sure you know from the society pages that I do quite well for myself.”
“Yes, it would appear that way but your mother is concerned that none of your relationships last. And, after setting you up with a number of young women she finds perfectly agreeable, she assumes that the problem lies with you, not them.”
Oh, he could tell she was enjoying this too much. He would show her! “Doctor,” he paused. “Are you actually a doctor or is it just a marketing ploy?” he asked, leaning forward in anticipation of her answer. She smirked again and gestured to the framed parchments behind her.
“May I?” he asked, getting up without her approval. He perused, hands in his pockets, the wall of framed certificates. Her Hogwarts Diploma was there, along with one from a prestigious Healing school and another from a Muggle institution. Miss Weasley had a certificate stating top honors in Psychology. “Ah yes, well Doctor it is then,” he said as he returned to his seat.
“So what do you think is the problem, Mr. Malfoy?” she asked politely.
“The thing is doc, I just don’t find anyone that interests me. Yes, the women I have on my arm are attractive and have the right pedigree, but they are lacking in other areas. Aside from physical beauty, and,” he paused and smiled for effect, “physical pleasure, they have no more to offer.”
“I wonder,” Doctor Weasley began, “have you ever dated someone for their intelligence or conversational skills? Perhaps someone with whom you got along but not someone you found attractive at first sight?” Draco stared at her as though he had no idea what she meant.
“Mr. Malfoy, I know you are no fool. I know you competed with Hermione Granger-Weasley for top marks in your year. Perhaps what you need is to meet women that are more… how do I put this? Scholarly.”
“Yes, but there are no attractive women like that,” he scoffed.
“Perhaps you should go out with women who you find intellectually stimulating and the physical aspect will come later,” she suggested.
“So I should find someone I can talk to, even if they aren’t attractive, and maybe I will grow to be physically attracted to them?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes. Does that sound so difficult?”
Draco huffed and rolled his eyes. “The problem with women who have brains like Granger — Weasley… whatever her name is now— is that they are smart to an annoying degree. And on top of that, a completely unattractive witch could never be found attractive!”
“That’s a bit shallow, wouldn’t you say? Don’t you think there might be some middle ground?”
“What? Like you?” he asked, pasting on his signature smirk. At this, the Doctor flushed. “Actually, you’re not married either. You’re what, a year younger than me? You’re obviously smart and successful. You’re not completely unfortunate looking. Why are you still single then? How come you haven’t snagged Potter yet if this is what you are an expert on?”
Her flush grew brighter as her anger rose. “My personal relationship with Mr. Potter is none of your affair. You are paying me to help you, not the other way ‘round.”
“Ah, well I see I’ve struck a nerve. I mean honestly though— has no one ever brought this up? I suppose I would expect an expert to have success in the area which they excel at!”
“I haven’t found the right person yet,” she emphasized. “Just because he hasn’t come along does not mean my advice doesn’t work!”
“Temper, temper, Doctor. I am merely pointing out—“
“Yes, I get what you are so kind to point out. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to move the conversation back to you and our next steps in this process.”
“Our next steps? Is that a proposal?” He could see it in her eyes with this last comment: she had had enough.
“Mr. Malfoy, our next step is for you to escort me on a faux-date, as you would any other young lady. I will point out to you areas of improvement, which may help your luck with women. I will owl your mother with an itinerary. Good day!” she scoffed as she stood, gesturing for him to leave.
He left with a big grin on his face. He had her just where he wanted her. Spending a bit more time with her couldn’t hurt. He’d have proof for his mother that there was nothing wrong with him, and maybe he’d get shag out of it all. The Doctor was definitely shaggable, Weasley or no.
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