Hello, all my beloved readers! THANK YOU SO MUCH for all of your comments, support, and patience while I was writing my first Dramione fanfiction, Taboo. Without you guys I would have never finished it.
I did say, "Ask and you shall be given," didn't I? Well, you asked, and now I'm giving you the sequel to Taboo, which I named Breakfast at Natalie's. And yes, it is a play off the movie title "Breakfast at Tiffany's," but it does not have anything to do with Audrey Hepburn.
I have taken a few characters from JKR's series and also borrowed some of the elements of the Wizarding world that she came up with; however, the rest of the story and additional characters are my very own creation. And you'll probably be pleased to hear that the chapters are a bit longer now, or at least a decent length.
WARNING: This fanfiction is rated R for language, sexual content, some violence and reference to drugs/suicide, and other mature material. If you do not think that you are able to handle mature material, please do not read this fanfiction.
That said, please enjoy the very first chapter of Breakfast at Natalie's:
Chapter 1--Phantom Female
Draco Malfoy woke up one Sunday morning and went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, only to discover that there wasn’t any left in the pantry. He sighed. Might as well have breakfast in the café…
He exited the apartment and headed for the small café nearby. He passed a newspaper stand on the way and stopped to pick up the paper, tucking it under his arm. He pushed open the door of the café, the bell jingling merrily as he entered. He came here often enough that the waitresses recognized him and knew his order by heart. He gave a nod at the waitress named Emily and took a seat in his favorite corner.
“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,” said Emily, coming over to his table. She was the only waitress in the place who never called him by his first name.
“Good morning, Emily,” he replied.
“The usual, I assume? Wheat toast with marmalade, scrambled eggs, and coffee?”
“Black,” he said, nodding. “Wheat toast with scrambled eggs! Marmalade on the side!” she yelled to the cook. She turned back to him. “I’ll be out with your coffee in just a moment.”
She moved on to pass out menus to a family of four and then disappeared into the kitchen, her brown hair glinting in the morning sunlight.
Malfoy unfolded his newspaper and began to read. A few minutes later, Emily returned with his toast and poured him a cup of steaming hot coffee.
“Enjoy.” She gave him a smile and went to serve the other customers.
He lifted the coffee to his lips and inhaled before taking a sip. It was bitter and burning hot, just the way he liked it. He munched on the toast while flipping through the newspaper, crumbs occasionally cascading across the pages.
A few minutes later, he raised the cup to his mouth and found that it was empty.
“Damn,” he muttered, signaling to Emily.
“More coffee?”
“Yes, please. And I’d like the check as well.”
A waitress that he’d never seen before came toward him with a pot of fresh coffee. Her waist-length, blonde hair obscured her face as she bent to pour his coffee.
“Natalie!’ called a voice from behind the counter. The girl jumped so badly that hot coffee sloshed onto the table and soaked into Malfoy’s pants. He yelped as the boiling liquid burned his skin.
“Bloody hell!” he cursed, leaping out of his seat.
The girl bit her lip, keeping her head down as she dabbed at the spill with napkins.
“Natalie?” Emily appeared next to them. “There you are. How many times have—oh, Natalie,” she groaned, seeing the puddle of coffee.
“S-sorry,” stammered the girl, looking up at him. Malfoy found himself gazing into a pair of gray-blue eyes not unlike his own—his mother’s eyes. His anger vanished immediately.
“I’ll take care of this,” said Emily exasperatedly, mopping up the spill. “Sorry about that, Mr. Malfoy. She’s new—I know that’s no excuse—but, well, you see how she is.”
Malfoy was still staring after the waitress named Natalie.
“Anyway,” said Emily, handing him a slip of paper, “here’s the check. Don’t worry about leaving a tip. God, this is so embarrassing.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” he said, taking out his wallet and leaving a tip despite Emily’s protests.
“Have a nice day!” she called, as he left the café. Then she turned to Natalie, who was rearranging a stack of napkins. “You really ought to be more careful,” she scolded. “He’s one of our best customers.”
“I’m sorry,” said Natalie meekly.
“Whatever,” sighed Emily, disappearing into the kitchen. Natalie leaned against the counter, watching the people outside pass by the window. Why had that man looked at her so strangely? Or perhaps she’d merely imagined it?
--------------------------
Malfoy hurried back to his apartment, his heart pounding wildly. He went into his bedroom and stripped off the coffee-soaked clothing, tossing it into the hamper and changing into flannel pajamas. He flopped down in front of the blank TV screen, stretching out across the black, leather sofa.
What was her name? Nora? No, it was Natalie.
“Natalie, Natalie,” he said to himself, hoping that saying her name over and over again might give him a clue as to who she was. But no matter how many times he chanted her name, he could not seem to remember ever meeting anyone named Natalie.
He had been thoroughly startled when their eyes had met. Her eyes were the exact shade and shape as his mother’s eyes. With her long, blonde hair and thin stature, she closely resembled Narcissa Malfoy. At first, he’d thought she was his mother, that she’d come back to haunt him. But as he observed her carefully, he saw that though her face had the same features, they were softer and more rounded. She was also much younger. He wasn’t great at estimating ages, but he would hazard a guess that she was somewhere in her mid-twenties.
He decided to place a call to his work partner, Charlie Jenkins. Charlie was three years younger than him. He was dark-haired, energetic, and quite the ladies’ man. He was very intelligent and had an obsession with cars, so he did the driving when they were sent out on a mission.
They were both Aurors working for Kingsley Shacklebolt, a legendary Auror himself. Though he was only in his forties, he was too old to do field work, so he mostly sat around in the office, barking orders in his deep voice and buying lottery tickets.
“I’m going to win the lottery someday,” he would say to them.
“Boss, you know it’s pointless. You have a better chance of being struck by lightning.”
“I’ve always been a lucky man. I don’t think my luck will fail me now.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
Malfoy dialed Charlie’s number and waited for him to pick up.
“Hello?” came Charlie’s voice.
“Charlie? This is Draco.”
“Hey, buddy. What can I do for ya?”
“Well, you see, I saw this girl at the café--”
“—and let me guess…you fell in love with her and now you want to go out with her, but you don’t have her number, so you’re calling me because you think I have her number?” He chuckled. It was true—Charlie did seem to know a fairly large variety of people. He was what you would call “well-connected.”
“Something like that,” said Malfoy, not wanting to reveal his real purpose.
“What’s her name?” Malfoy could hear Charlie flipping through his mini-address book. He could’ve saved himself a lot of time and energy by using magic to keep track of records, but he preferred to do it this way.
“Natalie,” said Malfoy into the speaker, his palms sweating.
“Natalie…hmm…”
“I don’t know her last name.”
“Neither do I,” said Charlie, his voice crackling on the other end of the line. “It seems that I’m not acquainted with any Natalies.”
“Oh,” said Malfoy, disappointed.
“But say, you wanna meet me at the BR tonight for a couple drinks? I’m sure there’s plenty of gorgeous girls there.”
The BR stood fro the Billiard Room, a favorite pub of theirs where Charlie frequently hit on girls and tried to hook Malfoy up with one of them.
“Sure, why not?” agreed Malfoy.
“Great.” Malfoy could hear the glee in Charlie’s voice. “Eight o’clock sound okay?”
“Yeah,” said Malfoy. “See you there.”
--------------------------
At a quarter to eight, Malfoy put on a jacket and hailed a cab. He stepped inside the dimly lit bar and found Charlie already waiting for him.
“Two beers, please,” said Charlie, winking at the pretty barmaid.
“Right away, sir.”
“Charlie…” said Malfoy reproachfully.
“What?” he said, looking around innocently.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Flirting,” said Malfoy.
“So?” he said shrugging.
“You’re almost a married man. Don’t you think you should exercise some restraint?”
The barmaid arrived with their drinks and Malfoy took a small sip of his beer. He actually wasn’t very fond of beer, but he drank it to appease Charlie.
“Liz knows I’m a player,” said Charlie, referring to his fiancée. “And besides, I’ve only got what, two and a half months left of my flirting career? I should savor it.”
“Are you ever going to grow up, Charlie?” said Malfoy, shaking his head.
“Someday. Maybe when Kingsley wins the lottery.” They both laughed.
“He’s hopeless,” said Malfoy. “I keep trying to convince him to give up on it.”
“It’s okay, just let him think that he’s going to win it. Every man needs a reason to live.” They sat in silence for a few minutes, observing the billiards game in the adjacent room. “So, Draco,” said Charlie. “Tell me about this girl you met.”
“What girl?”
“The one you called me about. Annalise, or whatever her name was.”
“Natalie,” he corrected. “Her name is Natalie.”
“Fine, whatever. Natalie. What’s she like? Is she pretty?”
“She’s shorter than I am,” said Malfoy, trying to remember what she looked like. “Blonde hair that goes down to her waist. Skinny.”
“Sounds like a hottie.”
“And she’s got my mother’s eyes,” said Malfoy quietly.
“Whoa,” said Charlie. “Say that again.”
“She reminds me of my mother,” said Malfoy. “They have the same facial features, except she looks less hostile. She’s timid, just like my mother was before she…” He trailed off. Before Narcissa Malfoy died, she’d become increasingly paranoid and jumpy, believing that everyone was an Auror coming to arrest her. In the end, she couldn’t take it anymore, and she swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills that she pilfered from a small Muggle pharmacy. She died peacefully, and Malfoy was glad that she no longer had to suffer.
“Hold on,” said Charlie. “You like this girl because she looks like your mother?”
“I never said I liked her. I just wanted to know who she was.”
“Oh,” said Charlie broodingly. “D’you think you’re related?”
“She’s not on my family tree,” said Malfoy. He had dug out the old family albums in his apartment, but there was no mention of anyone named Natalie.
“Maybe it’s just a coincidence,” said Charlie, finishing his beer. “I mean, I’m sure there are plenty of people who look like her.”
“You don’t understand,” said Malfoy, frustrated. “She has the exact same eyes.”
“Okay, whatever, Draco.” He still sounded skeptical.
“Look, Charlie, if you don’t believe me, come ‘round to my place next week and I’ll take you to the café.”
“Sure, sure,” said Charlie nodding. He glanced at his watch. “Liz is waiting. Catch ya later, mate.”
“Yeah, see ya.” They paid for their drinks and then went their separate ways.
Malfoy had to get up for work the net day, so he brushed his teeth and went to bed. On the way to his room, he grabbed the old family album he’d left out on the coffee table and took it to bed. He slowly flipped through the pages, reliving his childhood that seemed so long ago. His fingertips lingered over familiar faces, and he fell asleep with the picture in his lap, his other waving up at him from inside the frame.
Soundtrack:
Spoiler:
Wishing--A Flock of Seagulls
It's not the way you look,
It's not the way that you smile.
Although there's something to them.
It's not the way you have your hair,
It's not that certain style;
It could be that with you.
If I had a photograph of you,
It's something to remind me.
I wouldn't spend my life just wishing.
It's not the make-up
And it's not the way that you dance,
It's not the evening sky.
It's more the way your eyes
Are laughing as they glance
Across the great divide.
If I had a photograph of you,
It's something to remind me.
I wouldn't spend my life just wishing.
It's not the things you say
It's not the things you do
It must be something more
And if I feel this way for so long
Tell me is it all for nothing
Just don't walk out the door.
If I had a photograph of you,
It's something to remind me.
I wouldn't spend my life just wishing.
Hey kool Chapter cnat wait to read more _________________
Summertime Guys!
School is out the sun is shining
Summertime guys!
I think I'm gonna make it mine
Theres nothing like the feeling that you get inside
Look me in the eyes
Its Summertime Guys!
I think I like this even more than Taboo. Very interesting. Keep it up! _________________
Severus Snape fanfiction ''Temptation''
http://www.fanfiction.net/~reginavoltaire Chapter 18
Wow, Dracoholic, way to pull someone into your story. I wanna know so bad who Natalie is...
I enjoy your work. Looking forward to the next chapter. I also think it's cool you have a song to keep us in the mood of your story.
Spoiler:
This chapter kinda reminded me of "Wishing" by a Flock of Seagulls:
"It's not the way you look,
It's not the way that you smile.
Although there's something to them.
It's not the way you have your hair,
It's not that certain style;
It could be that with you.
If I had a photograph of you,
It's something to remind me.
I wouldn't spend my life just wishing.
It's not the make-up
And it's not the way that you dance,
It's not the evening sky.
It's more the way your eyes
Are laughing as they glance
Across the great divide.
If I had a photograph of you,
It's something to remind me.
I wouldn't spend my life just wishing.
It's not the things you say
It's not the things you do
It must be something more
And if I feel this way for so long
Tell me is it all for nothing
Just don't walk out the door.
If I had a photograph of you,
It's something to remind me.
I wouldn't spend my life just wishing."
_________________ Hermione: "Everything's going to change. Isn't it?"
Harry: "Yes!"
Thanks for the great song, Jayfer I thought it was perfect, so I edited the soundtrack I had originally. And of course, I gave you credit for coming up with it.
I've sent a piece of fanmail to Tom Felton via his website, but I'm not sure if it'll ever get there. (Or even if it does, there's no guarantee that he'll reply.) Let's keep our fingers crossed!
Well, enough chit-chat. Here is the next installment to the story...
Chapter 2--Criminology 101
The following day, Malfoy rolled out of bed and realized that he was late for work. He hastily brushed his teeth, and without even changing out of his pajamas, Apparated to the nearest Floo Travel Network. He threw of handful of the shimmering powder into the fireplace and stepped inside.
“Ministry of Magic!” he shouted, and the flames roared and spun around him. He toppled out of the fireplace, brushed the soot off his pajamas, and jabbed impatiently at the elevator button. The golden doors slid open and he stepped inside. He darted out as soon as the lift came to a halt, the calm female voice announcing that he had arrived at his destination.
“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,” said Miranda, the secretary. “You’re late for work today.” She raised her sculpted eyebrows, taking in the plaid flannel.
“I didn’t hear my alarm,” he said sheepishly.
“There’s a fresh pot of coffee in the lounge,” she said, scribbling something onto a purple notepad.
“Er, thanks,” he said. He pushed open the door to the locker room where he kept spare clothes. He quickly showered and dressed, eager to have his morning coffee.
“Hey, there,” said Charlie, spotting him in the lounge. “Where were you?”
“Missed my alarm,” said Malfoy, pouring a mug of coffee for himself. It couldn’t compare to the kind he usually drank, but cheap coffee was better than no coffee.
“By the way, Kingsley wants to see you in his office,” said Charlie on his way out. Malfoy groaned and abandoned his coffee.
He strode down the long hallway and poked his head into Kingsley’s spacious office.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes,” said Kingsley, swiveling around in his chair. “Where were you?”
“Didn’t hear my alarm,” he explained wearily.
“Don’t let it happen again,” said Kingsley, frowning.
“Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. It won’t happen again.” He thought it was highly unlikely that his boss had called him in merely to discuss his tardiness, so he decided to wait in case more was forthcoming.
“I expect you’ve heard about the Smuggling Gang?” said Kingsley after a long pause.
“The smuggling gang, sir? Which one?”
“I meant, the Smuggling Gang. You’ve heard of them?”
“Can’t say I have, sir.” Malfoy was puzzled. Why would his boss ask him about smuggling gangs? It wasn’t his area of expertise. “I thought Watkins was your market-man.”
“Indeed, Watkins keeps an eye on the market for me. Very impressed with his work,” said Kingsley fondly. Malfoy felt slightly irritated. Why was his boss praising Tim Watkins? All he did was watch for any signs of illegal activity in the business world that involved wizards. He certainly never had to go out and risk being shot or killed. “Anyway,” continued Kingsley, “I want you to find out as much as you can about this gang and then track them down. I’m putting both and Charlie on it.”
“Yes, sir,” he said obediently. “But, sir, why have you just called in here? Why not Charlie as well?”
“Well, to be frank,” whispered Kingsley, “Charlie interrupts too often. Don’t tell him I said that.”
“I won’t, sir.” He left the office. Well, this was certainly an interesting case, though not quite as interesting as the Pumpkin Juice Murder he and Charlie and worked on previously. A young wizard had poisoned his grandmother in order to inherit her estate so that he could sell it and pay off his debts. They never would’ve caught him if he hadn’t accidentally poisoned the rest of his family by hiding the powder in the sugar bowl. Some people are just too brainless to be criminals, thought Malfoy shaking his head.
“Hey, Charlie,” he called to his partner, who was currently playing Exploding Snap.
“Please don’t explode, please don’t explode…” he mumbled, pacing the last card on the tower. “Yes!” he shouted triumphantly, just as there was a bang and a puff of smoke.
“Charlie?”
“Huh?” said his partner, coughing and shoving the cards back into his desk drawer. “What did Kingsley want?”
“We’ve got a new assignment,” said Malfoy, sweeping aside a stack of parchment so he could perch on the edge of Charlie’s desk.
“An assignment? What sort of assignment? It’s been ages since we’ve had anything good,” said Charlie, brightening visibly. “Wait a minute, why didn’t he call me in there?”
“No idea,” lied Malfoy. “Anyway, it’s something about a smuggling gang. We’re supposed to track them down.”
“Isn’t that Tim Watkins’ job?” said Charlie, frowning slightly.
“That’s what I said. But no, Watkins is the one who detects illegal activity. We’re the ones who have to stop it.”
“So what do we know about these guys?”
“Nothing,” said Malfoy. “Which is why we’re going to see Watkins right now.”
Charlie followed Malfoy out into the hallway and knocked on Tim Watkins’ office door.
“Come in,” said a voice from inside.
Malfoy pushed the door open and they entered the tidy office. Watkins peered at them from behind his horn-rimmed spectacles.
“How may I help you?” he said condescendingly. Time Watkins had a rather high opinion of himself and treated everyone with disdain (except, Kingsley, of course).
“Boss says you’ve got news about a smuggling ring,” said Charlie from the doorway. “We need some information.”
“Ah, yes,” said Watkins, opening a file drawer and pulling out some papers. “I believe this is what you’re looking for.” He shoved the papers into Malfoy’s arms. “Shut the door on your way out.”
“What a snob,” remarked Charlie, as Malfoy dumped the stack of paper onto his desk.
“That’s just the way he is,” said Malfoy, shrugging. He cleared away the half-empty coffee mugs that lined his desk. “Help me look through some of this stuff.”
Charlie obliged, and they spent the next couple hours poring over the papers.
“Okay, so what do we have so far?”
“Not much,” said Malfoy, glancing down at his notes. “They call themselves the Smuggling Gang, they sell firearms and illegal drugs, and there are perhaps three or four men involved.”
“Well, it’s a start,” said Charlie optimistically. “I’m sure we’ll be able to dig up some more information. After all, we are the best team of Aurors in the entire department.”
They guffawed heartily. It was a joke between the two of them. In reality, they were probably the worst, most inefficient team Kingsley had ever hired. They usually spent more time goofing off than actually working on their assignments. They’d only solved about a third of their assigned cases, but Kingsley was reluctant to fire them because they had a knack for solving the more difficult cases.
“Maybe someday we’ll be up on the wall next to Potter,” joked Malfoy. Harry way an Auror as well, not to mention on of the top Aurors. He’d managed to solve nearly ninety percent of his cases, but only because he was so incredibly paranoid that he felt the need to investigate everyone and everything. His picture currently grinned sheepishly at them from the “Auror of the Year” frame. He had been too modest to pose for the picture, and in the end only Kingsley’s threat of demotion persuaded him to stand still while the photographer snapped the photo. Malfoy glowered at it every time he passed it in the hallway.
“Actually,” said Charlie, retrieving something from behind the filing cabinet, “we don’t have to wait any longer. Ta da!” He turned the large picture frame around to reveal an enlarged photograph of himself and Malfoy, “Aurors of the Year” penned in dark ink across the fake gilded frame.
“Why is that in my office?” said Malfoy between sniggers. It was a picture of them from last year’s Halloween party. Kingsley had invited everyone from the department and encouraged them to wear costumes. Charlie and Malfoy had gone as showgirls, sporting fake busts and sequined leotards. Kingsley had not been pleased.
“Everyone goes in and out of my office,” shrugged Charlie, “I didn’t want it to get stolen.”
“It’s brilliant,” said Malfoy. “When are you going to put it up?”
“During lunch break, when everyone’s left eh office.”
“I’ll help,” said Malfoy eagerly.
At noon, the floor began to empty as people went out to lunch.
“Hold down the fort while I’m gone,” said Miranda, sticking her head into Charlie’s office.
“Will do.” She closed the door and left, the thumping of her high heels muffled by the carpet.
They waited until all the offices were empty.
“I think the coast is clear,” said Charlie, motioning for Malfoy to follow. They tiptoed down the hallway and came to a stop in front of Harry’s picture. Malfoy removed it with a flick of his wand.
“Careful now,” cautioned Charlie, as Malfoy anchored the picture to the wall. He gave the frame a final tap.
“There.” He stood back to examine it, nodding satisfactorily.
“Permanent Sticking Charm?”
“Already done.” They high-fived each other, gazing fondly at the picture of themselves downing martinis, lipstick smeared across their faces, wigs hanging askew.
“Let’s get some lunch now,” suggested Charlie. His stomach growled audibly.
“What about Potter’s picture? We can’t just leave it here.”
“Seems a shame to throw it out,” mused Charlie. “I think it’d be nice as a dartboard though.”
“No, even better. We should decorate it and give it to him for Christmas.” They stowed the picture behind Malfoy’s filing cabinet and happily went to the small sandwich place across the street.
Soundtrack:
Spoiler:
Whatever We Want--Red Hot Chili Peppers
I stole your haircut
And your boring personality
The perfect pallette for a painting
Of morality
And now I come across without a loss
Of what to be
Add up the two of us and then
Subtract the one of me
Come meet your maker
A different kind of strain
I turn you into one
And then I turn you out for fun
Of earth and days and age
In fact you never were that dumb
Descended from a line
Of endless opportunities
I feel the mountain where you bring it from
Is gonna please
Come meet your maker
A different kind of strain
A sweet super-tanker
Oh won't it be great yeah, yeah
We can all do whatever we want
Whatever we want
Whatever we want
We can all do whatever we want
Whatever we want
Whatever we want
We can all do...what... ever we want to
We can all do...what... ever we want to
I'm dreamin' up the thing that no one
Ever knew was love
I get you higher than the hawks
Of Hollywood above
It's up for grab
The ragged stream of possibilities
To walk away from this could leave me
Feeling ill at ease
Come meet your maker
A different kind of strain
A sweet super-tanker
Oh won't it be great yeah, yeah
We can all do whatever we want
Whatever we want
Whatever we want
We can all do whatever we want
Whatever we want
Whatever we want
We can all do...what... ever we want to
We can all do...what... ever we want to
Come meet your maker
A different kind of strain
A sweet super-tanker
Oh won't it be great yeah, yeah
We can all do whatever we want
Whatever we want
Whatever we want
We can all do whatever we want
Whatever we want
Whatever we want
We can all do...what... ever we want to
We can all do...what... ever we want to
Thats awesome omg ur gonna get TOM FELTON! to reply wow. Thanks for the fanart pics _________________
Summertime Guys!
School is out the sun is shining
Summertime guys!
I think I'm gonna make it mine
Theres nothing like the feeling that you get inside
Look me in the eyes
Its Summertime Guys!
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