For Mortal Stakes: A Malfoy Files Story

A/N: This is the second story in my Malfoy Files Series. You don't have to read the first story but it might help establish some background for the characters. This story and my writing in general is greatly influenced by the writings of Robert B Parker and Raymond Chandler. Any similarities are intended as an homage.

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing that you recognize just the story. And I am making no money from this.

Chapter One

Only where love and need are one,

And the work is play for mortal stakes,

-Robert Frost

I was sitting in my office with my feet propped up on the open windowsill watching the people coming and going from the shops on Knockturn Alley. It had been a slow week so I really didn't have any work. I considered skiving off the rest of the afternoon and heading to The Firepit for a drink.

The intercom on my desk beeped, and my secretary Gertie's voice came across. "Mr. M., you have someone here to see you."

Gertie hadn't used the term client so I knew the prospective employer was a witch or wizard. My office door opened, and a young woman with jet black hair and pale alabaster skin entered my office. The woman stood just a little above five feet tall and was wearing black leather pants and an electric blue corset over a purple blouse. She looked familiar, but I could not place her.

"Mr. Malfoy, I got your name from my brother-in-law. He suggested you might be able to help me."

"Well, that depends on a lot of things," I answered, still trying to place where I had seen this woman before. "Such as who are you and who is your brother-in-law?"

"My name is Audrey Weasley, and I am married to Percy Weasley."

Bingo. I knew I had seen her somewhere before. Percy Weasley was an up and coming superstar in the Ministry. Some said he was slated to be the next Minister of Magic when Shacklebolt retired. We had worked together a few years ago on the Ariana Dumbledore case, so in a sense I owed him.

I nodded and looked at the young woman. She seemed much younger than her husband, and while not uncommon that still raised some eyebrows in certain circles. "So what can I do for you?" I asked

She reached into her purse and pulled out a large envelope. "As you may know, my husband is in the Ministry," she started, sliding the envelope across the desk to me. "These arrived in the Muggle mail the other day."

I opened the envelope and pulled out several photos and a piece of paper. The photos were of Audrey in various states of undress and performing several acts with several different men. The note said that unless she wanted this pictures made public and her husband's career ruined she would use her influence to get him to remove his name from contention for Minister. I looked at the pictures again, and something seemed off. She looked younger than she was now, and in all the photos she had a dead look in her eyes.

"How old were you when these were taken?" I asked, playing a hunch.

"Too young," she replied, looking down.

I nodded. "How much does your husband know about the pictures or your past?"

"He knows about my past and what I had to do to survive. He doesn't know about the photos," she said, starting to cry. "He would immediately drop out, and I can't have that. He has a chance to do real good, and I won't be the cause of that."

"So what do you want me to do about it?" I asked, putting the photos back into envelope.

"I want you to find out who is doing this and stop them. I went to my brother-in-law first. He said that if he did anything he would have to officially report it. He suggested I hire you because, as he put it, 'That son of a bitch may be a slimy ferret, but he is the best at what he does.'"

"I am touched," I said dryly. I held the envelope in my hands and sighed. "I will tell you what, I will look into this and see what I can dig up. I have a particular disdain for blackmailers and child abusers, and this case allows me to try and stop both in one fell swoop. How could I resist?" I smirked.

She smiled and her face lit up. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I can pay your standard rate."

I shook my head. "I owe you and your family, and that's a position I don't exactly relish myself being in. Leave your contact information with Gertie out front." I held up the envelope. "I am going to keep these to see if I can find out anything. As soon as I do, I will let you know."

She nodded and thanked me again and left my office. I sat back in my chair, looked at the envelope, and sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. Child abuse, blackmail, and a client who wasn't paying ... Yeah, that sounded about normal.

-OOO-

I opened the front door to the house and was greeted by the smell of baking bread and something else. "Torrie?" I called out.

"In here," she answered from the kitchen.

I walked into the kitchen and found Astoria standing next to the stove with her hands on her hips, watching a large pot of boiling vegetables.

"So what's cooking, doc?" I asked her, snaking my arms around her from behind and kissing her neck.

She turned around and kissed me back. "I'm rendering vegetable stock for later."

I nodded and turned and sat at one the tall stools we have around the kitchen island. "I may need your expertise on a case," I said, slicing off a piece of bread from the loaf cooling on a rack.

"You have a case in a restaurant?" she asked.

"No your other expertise." After our ordeal with Arianna Dumbledore, Astoria became interested in the mental illnesses and how they could be treated or prevented in the Magical population. She went through a Muggle program and was now set up in an office at St. Mungo's. "I am trying to stop someone from being blackmailed, and the case may end up involving underage girls. Your training may help me if I need to talk to anyone from that life," I said while pouring some champagne for both of us. "I have a hunch my usual method of hitting the person until they tell me what I need to know won't work with those girls."

I handed her a flute, and we went into the sitting room. I levitated the bottle and chiller behind us. I waved my wand and lit the wood in the fireplace. Astoria sat on the loveseat and tucked her feet under her. She took a sip of her champagne and looked at me over the rim of her flute.

"How can we afford such good champagne?" she asked, looking at her glass in the light from the fireplace.

"Low overhead." I smirked. "I weave my own blackjacks. So can I count on you to help?"

"Of course," she said. She downed the rest of her champagne and leaned forward and kissed me.

"We seem to be on the horns of a dilemma."

"Why is that?" she asked.

"Well, how long till dinner is ready?" I asked, stroking her cheek.

"About an hour and a half," she responded, turning her head and kissing my hand.

"Well, we could either wait until after dinner, or I could ravish you now."

"Well, being that you have a tendency to fall into a stupor after a large meal," she said, standing up, kicking off her shoes, and unbuttoning and removing her jeans. "I think you should probably ravish me now."

I stood up and pulled her into an embrace. "I knew you were going to say that."

"Was your first clue when I took off my jeans?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

I picked her up and held her to where her legs were straddling my hips. "I'm a detective," I said, turning her around and pushing her back on the loveseat. "I'm trained to notice these things.