GANGSTER LOVE:
Chapter one: Don't mess with the Godfather
"Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea." ~ Robert A. Heinlein
Song: "Woke up this Morning" Alabama 3
Crack. The man's bloody head struck the floor with a deadly thud. His nose was broken and a deep wound marred his skull, leaving a pool of dark red blood around his head. But he wouldn't notice: he was dead, even before his battered head hit the floor, his life floated away from him as the sickening blow to his skull had already left its mark.
"The thing about spying is that you probably shouldn't get caught", a soothing voice mocked, "But today's your lucky day; you're not going to end up like your friend here." His blond head turned to the dead man on the floor, "more's the pity. Tell the Weasel that he should choose more efficient goons to do his dirty work else his damned mob will end up as your friend here. You got that?"
The pale boy, not yet 22, hastily nodded as he glanced at his partner, dead on the floor. "Yes."
Draco leaned back in his dark green armchair taking a sip of strong Firewhiskey, letting its soothing bitterness ease the pain in his throat. "Good. Now get out of my house," Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle, his trusted men and nodded toward the boy.
They understood and left the room. He had just ordered them to erase the boy's memory of the location to the esteemed Malfoy Mansion.
Malfoy sighed as he walked to his cabinet to pour some more drink into his glass. He hated killing, but it came with the job. Kill or be killed. And when someone had infiltrated his home, someone from a rival gang, well, that motto rang true.
He watched as two house-elves cleaned up the bloodied body before exiting the room in silence. Draco sat back down, a frown etched upon his handsome face. This event happened often and they knew what they had to do. The only difference this time: it was an inside job.
He heard impatient footsteps stampeding into the room and his face resorted to its usual cool indifference.
"Again Draco! Good Merlin, I'm surprised there is anybody left this side of London!" an elderly lady exclaimed as she hurried toward Draco.
Evelyn Bessie, Draco mused, a family maid for generations and a second mother to him; the only one who dared call him his name. "I would be. I'm up to the W's."
"Arrogant priss!" At this Draco's brow rose. "Your agreement with the Minister will not insure you for all your sins! You cannot take the law into your own hands. You'll get caught one day and then what? You're 30 years old with no heir! How is the Malfoy name supposed to live on?"
"You don't know that, I probably have at least 7 bastards out there," he said, casually twirling his wand between his fingers. It was a lie of course, he was very careful. No way would he want to bring a child into his life. He had no time for it. It would be too much of a threat to his survival, and to its own. His life was too dangerous. "The way you're talking, it's as if I'll die tomorrow…" he added dryly.
She slammed her strong hands onto his expensive hard oak desk and stared straight into his silvery-grey eyes, "The way you're living I wouldn't be surprised if you did! When your mother hears about this next offing-"
"My walls in this quarter are bare for a reason," he did not need his mother's portrait ruling his life from the grave. He just thanked the Gods that his father was in solitary confinement in St Mungo's psych-home. One problem at a time. The first was getting to the bottom of who had let in the intruders. "Now, whilst I find no greater enjoyment than listening to you prophesise my imminent death, I fear life is calling me and the kitchen for you," he ushered her out of the door.
"Insolent little bastard," Evelyn Bessie said with a huff, and stomped her portly-self down the hall.
Draco's lips twitched. Few things amused him these days, but aggravating his old nanny was always a highlight. He turned to the window, to see Crabbe and Goyle dispose of the dead body the house elves had just removed: another problem solved. But he still had another: how did the men know where to find the house, and more importantly, what was it that Red wanted?
His question was answered as an owl approached his window.
The Blonde girl straddled his narrow waist and brought her hot lips onto his own. Big Red, as he was known, or Percival Weasley as he was born, massaged her delicate back soothingly and smirked as she arched her back toward him. Easy bitch.
He teased her for a while, his lips nibbling at the lace covering her erect nipples and a hand fondling the other, pinching and squeezing. He groaned as she brought her lips to his ear, her hot tongue tracing over its lobe before her teeth settled in for a sensuous bite. He heard a knocking at the door, interrupting his erotic line of thought.
"Leave it," the woman moaned in her strong American accent, her lips leaving a trail of hot kisses down his throat.
He shoved her onto the desk and started to take off her clothes, before the knocking started again. "Fuck it! What?!"
"Master Red forgive me," Red's butler Ross, sighed behind the door, "Geoffrey is here to see you, and I'm afraid he brings forth some bad news."
He cursed and shoved the girl who was doing wondrous things with her hands, off him. She pouted and hurriedly put on some clothing, as did he. It would have been much easier to charm on some clothes, but he didn't think his little witch would appreciate it. "Well then bring him in, and hurry about it!"
A lanky, mousy haired boy entered the room, striding to his boss with confidence, quite a different persona to the boy at Malfoy's. His eyes showed no fear and his back was poised as he sat in front of Red's desk. "I bet I know what you were up to," he smirked as he glanced at the dressing woman glaring at him.
"What did you find at Malfoy's?" said Red, who casually handed Crouch some brandy, "anything we can use?"
Geoffrey sculled his drink, and re-filled his glass, sighing as he did it. "You know Perce-" he was the only one who could get away with using that name- "I don't see why you're bothering with this case. Just leave the three alone. It's nothing to do with revenge of the siblings is it?"
Red almost choked and slammed down his glass, "What's it to you? Don't dare question my authority you got that?" he stood, a motion hopefully achieving a somewhat intimidating stance over his younger counterpart. "Now what did you get, and where is Simon?"
Crouch sighed, knowing his leader would surely get mad over the case they had set up a month in achieving, but handed him the only parchment he could save from Malfoy's wrath. "He found out boss, Malfoy found out and the son-of-a-bitch killed him."
The blonde woman knocked down a glass sitting on the bench in front of her and swore; the movement not lost to the angered man who, forgetting the parchment, slammed Crouch against a wall. Hard.
"What do you mean he's dead? I thought we had it all planned out? I thought Nott got us in and we were safe. What the hell do you mean he found out!?"
Crouch pushed off Red and casually fixed up his shirt. Red always got so fired up about petty things, and when it came to Malfoy, his nemesis in the Underground, he usually blew right up. "Well obviously Malfoy saw through it didn't he? Nott had to cover his ass. It's not like he opened the front door to Malfoy's and offered us some apple cider. He had to personally apparate us in order to get past the security spells, and then left us. Your master plan failed, among many other things and now…" He stopped as a strong fist found its landing on his face. Crouch stumbled back and wiped off the blood on his face.
The woman, used to being ignored by the gang leader, didn't bother to watch the show; instead her gaze was focused on the magical parchment left forgotten on the floor. She could make out the letters, "Hermi-" and moved closer to get a look.
"I tolerate you because I knew your uncle very well, other than that, to me you're expendable," Red said as he shoved Geoffrey again up the wall. "I sent you on this job to do one thing and you fuck it up." Red sighed as he released Crouch from his killer grip, "So can you remember where Malfoy lives did you get the parchments?"
Crouch shook his head, "I only saved one parchment; I remember Malfoy killing Timmons; him telling me that basically you suck and the rest is a void. They probably Obliviated my memory, those two ogres I mean."
"Crabbe and Goyle eh? Well thick as they are, at last they get the job done." Red said in disgust and turned to the young woman, who looked startled at the attention, wrapping his arms around her body. His lips trailed along her jaw and above her chest. He glanced at the scar just above her left breast, remembering the mark he gave to her the first time they ever had sex. Pretty thing. Dumb and useless of course for the most part, but he didn't trust at all. She was a witch herself and knew too much already. After Crouch left, he was going to have to Obliviate her too. The door knocked again. "Now who is it?!"
The greying butler emerged from the now open door, "I apologise, but the copy of the Daily Prophet has arrived and I thought you may be interested in it."
"It had better be or it's your head next," Red sighed as the butler approached him with the paper in hand.
"Is there anything else you need?" Ross asked bowing to Red.
"No. Dismissed." He looked down at the page Ross had marked for him and his face turned an angry red. "Read this Crouch."
Crouch expertly caught the paper and his face paled. "We never left any clues! They'd never assume it was us. Until they do, they have nothing to worry about…"
"Until they find out, and we all know Malfoy will!" Red exclaimed, running his fingers through his shaggy hair. Fucking incompetence. "Listen, I'm assigning you and Fudge to go out and question, with force if need be, anybody you suspect would have known what you and Timmons were up to, understand? I don't care what you do; just make sure we aren't incriminated further."
"Done," Crouch clenched his jaw and turned to leave the room to find Fudge, before Red stopped him.
"And you my dear," Red said and he slammed the woman hard against the wall, tightly gripping her frail wrists in one hand, and conjuring his wand with the other. "Time to forget…"
The woman withered under his forceful grip and almost cried out in pain as he tightened his hold, "What?"
He didn't give her time to finish; with a swish of his wand he erased her memory of the past hour. It was either that or kill her. And she was too good a fuck to do that. After all, if need be, he could do that when he bored of her. "Thanks for the fuck babe, you were great. Now get your ass out of here."
A look of outrage covered her confusion as she stormed out of the room, but not before she cursed at him.
Unfazed, he called his butler through his in-home floo service, "Ross I must be out," he said and glanced at the parchment on the floor. "I have to go and visit… an old friend."
The blonde woman hid behind the door, and heard a 'pop' signifying Red had left. She heard footsteps hurrying back toward his quarters and decided it was not safe to go searching for information. She sighed and mumbled "Bloody Weasley," before she placed her hand to her locket, muttered an incantation and too left.
The Minister of Magic sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, his young face marked with lines of exhaustion and worry making him look at least ten years older than he was. He had just finished reading an article which alleged he was unfit to govern as Minister. Fucking Parvati, he thought, if she hadn't been his wife's best friend he'd have slayed her.
His office had been turned upside down as two unknown wizards searched for certain information he could only assume, was the residence of the Wonder Trio or possibly the Malfoy mansion. Enemies of Malfoy, one of the wizarding-world's leading businessmen (and gang leaders on the side), would do anything to try to get into it. Of course, once they had access, they had to unlock all the spells shielding his home from intruders, usually resulting in severe consequences if a mistake was made.
He shook his head with bemusement as he wondered why he even made an agreement with the savage gangster. The wizarding community knew him as a playboy socialite who had made some good investments with his inheritance and Muggle import/export business, but the Minister knew him as the ruthless underworld bastard that he was. Malfoy's only redeeming feature was that, though he made some questionable business ventures, it was solely concentrated in Muggle society and the Underworld. Malfoy, per se, was the Leader of the Gangland; and the Minister had it in good mind to keep his enemies close. It was shades of grey.
But the break-in posed a new threat, not only for himself and the Wonder Trio, but Malfoy as well. And it was time for the gang leader to repay the favour. Luckily for the Minister, the man of the moment apparated before his eyes.
"So is this a Weasley affair? Or can I join the party?"
Six people were seated around the large table underneath the Malfoy mansion. Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise Zabini: Draco's right hand, Theodore Nott, Marcus Flint and the leader himself Draco Malfoy. Two unoccupied seats were next to him as he waited impatiently for them to fill.
"Obviously they're not going to be here any time soon, fuck, we all know what Pansy is like, she won't stop until she's had at least four orgasms," Zabini spat as he glanced at the second empty space.
Draco ignored Blaise fully aware of Pansy's sexual nature. He, of course, had no problem fulfilling Pansy's wishes sevenfold; Blaise on the other hand had struggled; only managing a mere three. He lifted The Daily Prophet in front of him and glanced at his council. "We've all read this, have we not?"
Two unidentified men broke into the Ministry of Magic yesterday, causing a commotion in the building.
Entering the Minister's office without difficulty, the two men stole classified information from one of his secret vaults.
One of the workers reports, "I think I remember seeing their faces and talking to them, but I can't remember anything after that. I woke up with a migraine."
It is believed that the stolen information contained the whereabouts of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, the wizarding world's richest business tycoon.
No one is sure how the thieves got in, but it is believed that a few of the workers were put under the Imperio curse, to obtain access to the vault.
It has been one of several attacks against the Minister in the past few weeks. An insider revealed that the Minister has received unsigned threatening letters against his council, that many believe has been sent by the Black Beaters gang, whose leader is only known as "Big Red".
The Minister has not commented as yet, but is currently in session with the council. The Opposition is in doubts on whether Mr Weasley is fit to run the government.
More on the news as it progresses.
"Business tycoon?" Draco ignored the snigger from Crabbe, but Blaise chose not to, sending a curse his way; Crabbe's nose became a snout and a curly pink tail protruded from his backside. Draco commended Blaise on his fine work.
"I was hoping for a bit of pork for dinner." Blaise said.
"So what do you think, Draco?" Goyle asked, ignoring his sidekick snorting his way in anger.
Draco placed his expensive boots on the table, leaning back on his chair. "It was the Black Beaters," Draco knew this for a fact as he had installed a Muggle surveillance system into several chambers of the Ministry, illegally of course, but the point was moot. One look at the tapes from his office in his manor confirmed too, that the two men who had broken in there had also attempted to infiltrate his home. Recognising Crouch as one of Red's henchmen from a previous raid, well it was easy to put it together. " But just what the hell does he want now, I-" he was interrupted as a blonde woman apparated into the room
"Nice of you to join us," Zabini jibed giving her a look over. "Forgot how to dress, or did Weasley have something to do with it?"
"He does more for me than you ever did," she cast a spell and her hair turned dark and her eyes blue; her short skirt and low cut top were replaced by a tracksuit. Pansy Parkinson stood before them now and sat in her seat next to Theodore Nott, her English accent returned. She gave him a weary look before she turned to Draco. "I'm guessing you read the article?"
Draco sat forward and eyed Pansy and Nott straight in the eye. "You guessed right. So what's the deal? What did you get from the Weasley traitor?"
"Now, now, don't be like that Draco. Without him, your job would be too easy," Pansy smirked and squeezed Nott's leg with ferocity. He forced himself not to curse. "The bastard tried to Obliviate me! Turns out we have a traitor in our midst. Any guesses of who it could be?"
Oaf as he was, Goyle raised a thick hand, Crabbe just snorted away. Draco merely raised a brow, but he already knew. He decided to see how it would pan out.
"Timmons and Crouch used the Polyjuice potion to get into the Ministry. They then used the Imperio curse to manipulate the workers there, before obtaining the keys to the Minister's vault- unlocking all the spells mind you- and taking out the information it held," she then turned to Draco who looked bored. "Draco, they know where you live and the spells to unlock the shields. Even if you killed Timmons, Crouch has still got them! Or…" she paused and smirked, "judging by the smirk on your bloody face you knew that and have the papers right…in your hand…"
Draco waved the papers in front of him and slammed them on the table.
"Still that's not enough," stated Zabini as he stood from his seat and approached Draco. "Even with those papers there are still spells unlisted that you need to access here. It must've been an inside job, someone had to have snitched," he looked around the table; at Goyle who found a mark in the table terribly amusing; at Crabbe who'd stopped his snorting; to Pansy who was glaring at Nott, who looked to be in pain; to Flint who looked bored and finally at Draco, as calm and deadly as usually.
Malfoy rearranged his feet on the table. "I figure none of you bothered to check out what else they took from the vault." He glanced at their expressionless faces. "Thought not."
He stood up and transfigured a picture on the wall into a large screen and held up a sheet of paper. "This, I'm sure you'll soon discover, is some information about the Wonder Trio. The famed Weasley Minister; Potter and his Weaslette and of course the grand Auror Granger; all members of the Sickening Doo-Gooder Society…" Flicking through the papers, he held up one with all their profiles.
"Here we have Potter, age: 30; Height: a towering 5'8, sent on a secret mission by the order of the old Minister and has not been seen since the Gangs of London War. One of the best things I've ever started I think…"
Zabini smirked, "Stop gloating Malfoy, what's your point?"
"This parchment," Draco swapped papers, "Contains the residence of my grand self, Potter's former home- though now that they've gone into the jungle who bloody knows now… you can see here Weasley living in the famed Burrow Bomb and well…Granger's… hmm…" he frowned.
"For God's sake Draco, I really don't care about those three at the moment, cut to the chase," Pansy sighed impatiently and hit Nott near his privates. That'll shut you up, she thought.
"Keep doing that Parkinson and his main purpose of living will be obliterated," Draco smirked and Pansy scowled, but she finally got the message: Draco knew. "I won't put up the rest of the papers, but what I'm thinking is that not only did they want to know about me, they also wanted to know about the Wonder Trio; to manipulate the Minister to step down, to let him rule."
Flint scoffed and spoke for the first time. He would analyse the situation and interrupt where best fit. "So what you are suggesting is that Weasley Senior is going to threaten his brother with the lives of those who killed Voldemort, if he doesn't step down? Good fucking luck! "
"He's trying to attack the three of them for revenge, they made him look like an ass back in his days at the Ministry and they're his biggest threat, why not try to off them too? And since he knows our connection with his younger brother, he's probably trying to get enough out of us as possible; that or he'll use the information to start another gangland war."
"But we don't know anything about the three. We haven't seen them since our parlay after the war." Flint stated.
Draco sighed, "Ronald the Weasel is the Minister of Magic. And whether we like him or not, he's kept the authorities off our asses for years. Percy knows this and it pisses him off even more," he scanned the room, his eyes landing on Nott. "Isn't that right?"
"W...what?" Nott stammered. His temples were sweating and he subconsciously kept wiping his wet hands on his bruised legs.
Malfoy chuckled, "Nott, don't make me kill you before I've finished." His voice deepened, "I know what you did, and clearly Pansy knows what you've done."
Nott face was drenched. Malfoy was playing with him, he had intimidation under wraps: he was shitting himself. Many others interrogated by the gang leader thought Malfoy was a wannabe bad-guy; their minds quickly changed by the end of it. Draco had a patient demeanor for most of the time: well … most of the time. "Malfoy I swear I…"
"I heard it from Crouch's mouth Nott, so stop f-" Pansy started, and Crabbe started snorting again. "Oh shut up Wilbur," and transformed him back into what could only be his original human form.
Draco's patience was being tested, he rubbed his temple. It would be so much easier forcing him, but that was always his last resort. "Theo-" Goyle held Theo's arms tightly around his back, while Crabbe squeezed his hands around Nott's neck, "Nott I don't have the time. Either way, for fucking with me, I will have to use an Unforgivable. But unfortunately for you, it's not the killing one."
"Okay, okay," Nott choked and tried to push the large men off.
"That's enough."
"Get off me you two oafs," Nott swore, pushing at Malfoy's henchmen. "Look Malfoy, I had no idea of their intentions, but I guess it was lucky I unlocked the other spells. I mean, you wouldn't have known what they were up to and gotten the scripts, right?" he tried to make light of the dark situation before him, scanning the room for support.
"Yeah," Blaise lied, "I guess you're right. Crucio."
The wand beamed a ray of red light toward Nott who bent in agony. He screamed.
"Stop," Draco simply said and Nott fell, clutching his bruised chest. "Maybe, you knew what they were up to and wanted to set a trap to stop them, eh?"
Nott glanced at Draco's raised brow and nodded. He'd do anything to stop his insides eating him alive.
"Hmm, then why didn't you say so?"
"I…I…"
Draco cut him off sighing with false concern. "Hmm, perhaps you were nervous, intimidated by all the wizards-" Pansy made an incomprehensible sound, "- and witches that could, you know…Kill. You. In. An. Instant?"
Theodore made it onto his knees and cringed. As composed as Draco seemed, anger soared through his stormy eyes. Not many were able to make him mad beyond comprehension, but when it happened, he was deadly. "Yes, that's right."
"Well now we'll never know will we?" he casually turned to Blaise and Marcus. "Get him in the dungeons and find out where he stands. I have a feeling he's a high level Occlumens, so Legimency wont work on him. Do what you have to."
"No worries boss," Flint said, dragging Nott by his hands. "You'd better speak up traitor. I won't hesitate to kill you.
"You're the traitor," Nott spat. "Sucking up to the Ministry just to save yourselves from Azkaban. Look on your left arm, Death Eater's the lot of you."
"Get him out of here!" Draco roared and watched as the three men left the room.
The four remaining stood in a contempt silence. It was five minutes before anyone spoke again.
"What are you going to do Draco?" Pansy asked.
Draco said nothing. It hit hard knowing one of his men had betrayed him, he hadn't thought it possible. In all honesty, he had no idea what to do and decided to remain silent; it was best not to show anyone his vulnerability' such was his skill in Occlumency.
"Come on Draco! You don't honesty think that shutting up will solve…" She didn't finish.
"Parkinson," he sighed in frustration, "don't start. There have been too many killings today for anybody not to take notice and it's going to be my head on the block…. I have too many things to worry about, than listening to your irritating voice and answering your petty questions."
Pansy rolled her blue eyes and sat down irritated, "Arrogant asshole," she mumbled.
Draco stood, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. I want you to watch over Patil; I have no doubt Weasley will have his goons following her every step. Let her know about what really happened that night, let's put some pressure on the Black Beaters."
Pansy sighed, "and what are you going to do? Or shouldn't I ask you any more petty questions?"
"No need to be nasty. I'm going to pay a visit to our no show."
"Wait-" Pansy started, but Draco had left before she had finished. "Red's got another parchment."
He arrived in the spacious room; the wooden walls filled with animated pictures of previous Ministers', and then saw the object for his arrival, Ronald Weasley. A tall, lanky redhead who looked almost forty, than the 30 he was. He was seated in a large red armchair with his hands covering his eyes.
"So is this a Weasley affair? Or can I join the party?"
Ron didn't even have to look up to know who entered his protected office. "Seems like you've already arrived uninvited."
"Here," Draco said throwing the parchments in front of the redhead. "I believe these are yours."
Ron's eyes lit up as he grabbed for them. He had believed they had been lost with the crooks that had taken them. Pages full of information kept hidden from the rest of the wizarding world, including the whereabouts of five of the most sought after wizards in the world: himself, Harry and Ginevra Potter, Draco Malfoy and…Hermione Granger. Ron's face blanched as he hurriedly shuffled through the papers again.
The new laws administered before Ron's reign, stated every witch and wizard had to identify their residence and a personal profile for security purposes. Each individual was magically entwined to the secured papers, so if they were at Diagon Alley or dead, the papers would show it. Ron had thought it idiotic at first, however when an escaped convict fled an Auror's grasp, the parchments had located his whereabouts. It seemed the runaway was going to finish off the exact crime he was committed for and the spell had saved five lives.
The encounter had changed Ron's opinion completely, but he still felt slightly insecure. So he kept the most famous wizards in a safe with high protection spells, much to the dismay of Draco, who'd wanted his destroyed. Alas this was a condition for him to escape persecution; that and letting the authorities in on some of the underworld dealings. Big Red was the most sought after criminal and no one knew his whereabouts. Except Malfoy of course, but he wouldn't tell Ron, Draco enjoyed making the Minister as angry as possible.
Draco took notice of Ron's unsteadiness and sat up, "They're all there Weasley, I have no interest in visiting any of you lot."
Ron's heart skipped a beat, as he put the pieces together. "Hermione's got her bio here, but her locational one, it's not here…"
"What do you mean its 'not here'? I gave you everything I had Weasley."
Ron rubbed his tired eyes. Ever since the break in last night, he had gotten no sleep and his pregnant wife was constantly nagging him to come home. If there was one thing worse than the Ministry, it was a hormonal wife.
"Well Ron, if you had better security, it wouldn't have happened," she had said over the floo network.
"Well Parvati really isn't helping with that bloody article is she? And neither are you telling her about those letters! She had better not be at our house Lavender, or I will come home and kill her."
Suddenly Parvati's head popped out of the fireplace; she was holding his 2-year-old son, Hugo. "Oh come now Ronniekins don't get nasty. It wouldn't have hurt so much if it weren't true."
"Well Malfoy, it's not here. I'm not suggesting you have it. I just…what do you know?" Ron asked, "What did Pansy say?"
Draco wished he had bothered to listen to the brunette, but would rather die than admit it to anyone. "All I know is that from these papers your psychotic brother is after something."
"You think Percy has something to do with this?" Ron's face blanched. Percy after years of being the high achiever of the Weasley household, had snapped after the death of his mentor Bartemius Crouch, who had before his death, planned a takeover of the ministry with his own team of thugs. With his death, and the eventual return turn of Voldemort, Percy had segregated himself from his friends and family, only to be humiliated afterward by crawling back to them during Voldemort's demise. It had hurt his pride; until he had found, years later, a letter left by Crouch encouraging Percy to fulfill his dream of becoming Minister.
And did it piss him off that his loser of a brother had beaten him to it! This and his general animosity of the all-mighty Wonder Trio had spurred the flames of his anger and revenge. Throw Malfoy, who hid his felonious background with his wealth and charm and escaped prosecution by playing nice with the minister, into the mix and his need for redemption was resolute.
"All the signs are there Weasley. Who would do something as stupid as breaking into the Ministry of Magic, your bro-?" Draco began.
"Malfoy you've done it plenty of times…"
Draco sighed, "Note Weasley, that I said 'stupid enough'. I take offense in calling myself stupid."
They sat in silence for about ten minutes. Ron having nothing to say and Draco too bored to break the silence. Then Ron spoke up. "Malfoy, we're all in danger."
Draco looked up, suddenly uninterested of the carpets pattern, "You're in danger."
"We all are!" Ron mumbled a spell to open his desk draw and relieved it of its contents. "I've been getting these the last month. All of them containing the same drabble: time to take back what is mine…your friends will reap the consequences, the fall of the Wonder Trio… bla bla. It seems as if a new cult is forming, and I'm sure it's from the Underground."
Draco was absorbing all Ron's words, which, grudgingly, seemed to make sense as he read through the dozens of letters sent to the Minister. "No doubt about it, it's the only place left for gangs."
"Yeah, and you're the leader of one of the most renowned. If you're not careful, the public will find out and will be out to get you; if the Ministry continues to be infiltrated, I won't be able to help you."
Malfoy considered it a moment, "I'm flattered by your concern but I can take care of myself. If I hadn't seen the benefit of our relationship, no matter how strained, I still would have managed to stay incognito."
"It's that kind of attitude Malfoy that'll get you into shit. Damn it! Can you be certain it's Percy? What if he's under the Imperius curse? Perhaps if you told us his location we could take him in or if he's in danger…" Ron began and sent a pleading look toward Draco, who just raised his hands in surrender, scoffing.
"Not my deal Weasley. No matter how much of a tosser he is, there's a code of conduct in the criminal world, we don't bring in the law to take care of our shit. I don't know where he lives, it's constantly changing. Everyday he's moving to a different suburb or country, with just one flick of his wand: his whole house disappears. The only way we can get to him, is through Pansy; and he hasn't been calling her as often."
"He still doesn't know it's her then?"
"No, he thinks she's some clueless American witch," Draco chuckled. "Thankfully that new Polyjuice potion Longbottom created means she can stay in one form as long as she wants. Who would've thought that mug would be a potions master? Anyway we need her for our own inside work Weasley. If we got you and your Auror's in on the deal, she'd be in more danger than she is. Not that I'd care of course, but I don't like people messing up my plans."
Ron summoned two glasses and poured Malfoy some Firewhiskey, "I need to ask you a favour."
Draco took a sip before asking, "I knew you wanted something. What is it?"
"It's obvious someone is after us. You know the ones that stopped Voldemort thirteen years ago from regaining power and sent all his followers to Azkaban…"
"Don't make me throw up Weasley; you've already had your parade."
"Well anyway," Ron continued, "whoever is doing it, wants to get us back, we stopped the Dark Lord before and we can take care of our enemies again..."
Draco got impatient, almost enough to tell the Minister about his hidden cameras. Fortunately, he resisted. "Weasley shut up and get to the bloody point. I don't really care about your life; I don't even know why I'm even bothering with you…"
"Because Draco, without my support you and your crew would've ended up in Azkaban a thousand times now. Without me you wouldn't get away with half the shit you do, you'd be given the Dementor's Kiss."
"My hero," he said sarcastically, but new it to be true. "So you want me to spy on your brother? Too late there."
"No, I still can't believe he's involved. I have reason to believe that your information was just a bonus," Ron's saw the bored expression on Draco's handsome face and said he'd explain. "They came into my office to get the information about the three of us and they found yours too…"
Draco scoffed poor naïve Weasley. "They have been planning this for months. Crack into your vault and gather all the information on those who could get in the road of his plans. You are the target here, oh yes, your friends too, but they would be good hostages to barter with and then kill…. One of my defectors, who at this moment is probably dead, let them into my mansion, to gather any information they could use as an attack method. You see Weasley, the Underground is heading for war," he saw the stunned look on Ron's face. "Oh don't worry, were only killing each other so far; but any juice we can get on the enemy will get us more power. Percival and I are so far up; no one would dare touch us, so there is somewhat of a kinship there that I can't wait to kill him."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Lovely Malfoy, but I don't want my brother dead; as terrible as he is. I'm still not ruling out the Imperius, or maybe…"
"Or maybe you're making up excuses for him. Face it Weasel, he wants you dead."
Ron skulled his Firewhiskey and refilled both his and Draco's glasses. He never wanted to believe good old Perce would leave them all for a dark and murderous world that was proving to be as notorious as Voldemort's reign.
"Maybe Malfoy, but because of that everyone I care about is vulnerable, and I don't want to see them hurt; which brings me back to this favour I'm asking of you…"
Draco's mind raced with possible thoughts Ron's could possible want. Protection, assassination, maybe even money, he laughed at that. But nothing could possibly prepare him for what Ron proposed.
"I want you to protect Hermione."
Firewhiskey spluttered out of his mouth (how un-Malfoy-esque!) as he stared at Ron in shock. "Are you delirious Weasley? You want me to protect Granger? Please, just send me to Azkaban and be done with it."
"Well I'll admit, after this conversation, I am hesitant to put her in possible more danger; but the fact is with you she's safest. I have no doubt she'll hate it too, but Per…whoever has that parchment is going to know exactly where she is: she's in danger Malfoy and she doesn't know it."
"So you want me to what…?"
"In-home protection. Your house is undetectable without the parchments, and I will be destroying them anyway. Come on Malfoy, you owe me it."
And he hated it, bloody Weasel. "And if I refuse?"
"You'll go to Azkaban as well as your minions. No one else may know your hideout, but I sure do. I'll have Aurors in there at no time at all, catching you in the act. They're already suspicious."
Bloody freggin Weasley, "Fine. But consider us even."
"Deal. Harry already knows; he and Gin are…gone. My family will be sufficiently protected; I've already sent them away."
"What about you? Care to join the party at my place?" Draco said sarcastically.
"I'm the Minister; I'll do what I have to, even if it puts me in danger."
"Ever the Gryffindor eh?" Draco got up, "so where is she?"
"Moody's thinks she been out of action on the field for too long since taking a desk job at, and has sent her on a mission to Ireland and won't be back until tomorrow morning. She won't be happy about it, but you have to explain it to her, please."
"That makes two of us. Until next time Weasel." Draco apparated with a 'pop' leaving Ron alone in his dark office.
The following night
Her high-heeled leather boots clicked on the marble floor as she reached her target. He had a smirk on his face as he pulled her towards him, crushing his hard lips to her soft full ones.
She leaned back tracing seductive kisses along his jaw and nipped at his ear. He moaned at her sweet taste, throbbing as she grazed her silky calf up his leg. Inwardly she rolled her eyes but chuckled to set the scene. She brought him to the bed, shoved him roughly on top of it and straddled him.
She ran kisses up his chest biting and sucking tenderly until she reached his ear. "Close your eyes."
"Kinky wench," the half-naked man breathed and took a final look at the Muggle woman he hired for casual sex. She was dressed as a dominatrix; black skimpy leather covering everywhere that flesh was not. "What are you doing?" he asked as he popped a pill into his mouth.
"Shh, it won't be a surprise if I tell you," she smiled at his closed eyes and grabbed his arm.
He felt her fasten, what he thought, were Muggle handcuffs around his wrist and locked him to the bedposts. "What?" the wizard's eyes opened.
"It's okay," she chuckled and kissed him for re-assurance and noted he hadn't swallowed his drug. Great. She repeated the step on the other wrist and made sure they were securely locked. Forcefully, she ground her hips with his, pushing him deeper into the bed, making sure he couldn't move any part of his body.
"Ooh," he moaned. "Like it rough darlin'? Ahh..."
She chuckled and brought her hand back up to his face, "It's only going to get rougher from here on. I hope you like Azkaban." She saw the wanted wizard's eyes open harshly as the realisation hit. "Now!"
The wizard started to fidget as a group of men, wands poised and at the ready, stormed through the door. "What the f-"
"Surprise!" she smirked and got off him as the stunning spell hit.
"Not bad Granger, not bad without your wand," said a greying old man.
"Yeah," agreed another with blond hair, "we can all tell. Just look at his zipper."
They all chuckled at the bulging figure situated below the belt, but Hermione turned away trying not to gag. "Don't dare think I enjoyed it, the prat is lucky I didn't hex him. And so are you Jordan," she said and turned to the blonde prankster of the squad Lee Jordan.
"Awe," he smirked and walked with her out of the door letting the others deal with the criminal. "You wouldn't want to hit such a slender neck as mine.'
"No not hit, but I would break it," she smiled sweetly over her shoulder and walked over to her boss. "So what's next?"
Moody sighed as he stared at his men hauling the stunned figure out of the room. "We take him in for questioning, but there's no doubt Red or Malfoy are the ring leaders. He goes to Azkaban whether we get information out of him or not."
Hermione stared as the figure went past her and if looks could kill, she'd be six-feet under by now. "I think you'll find it was neither the Black Beaters nor Dark Marks sir. This man's in a league of his own."
An annoyed Mad Eye asked, "And how would you know that?"
"Well he's not in the Dark Marks, I mean come on Malfoy has too many contacts to not to know this was staged. And well…" she paused and blushed, "well you know how the Black Beaters' have a tattoo imprinted in a certain place…"
"Ah ha!" Moody lifted up his hand to halt her and shook his head. The common feature of a Black Beaters' member was a red snake-like imprint near the lower region of the torso "Too much info Granger. Just go home and get some rest." As soon as she left, he wandered over to the bedside table and picked up a bottle of pills the criminal was downing. "Forn21, shit." No sooner had he said it, his prisoner starting moaning and grinding himself against one of his men. "Get him to St Fucking Mungo's!" Moody hollered, but he feared it was too late for the man.
By the time she had finally unlocked all of the protection spells on her house she was exhausted and immediately fell onto the couch.
She had been in Ireland on an assignment to track down a notorious criminal who had been an instigator to major theft and the murder of ten wizards.
Moody had been working on the case for a month non-stop. Littman was a half blood, so he knew all the tricks and trades of the Muggle world which helped him accessorise his own gang; and of course he took no advantage of the fact certain women could give him pleasures to satisfy ones fantasy.
And so Moody had ordered a reluctant and repulsed Hermione Granger to dress as a dominatrix to seduce the criminal. She argued that there were more conventional ways to catch a man, but Mad Eye had no ear for her thoughts: sex made a man come – in many ways than one. The plan had worked, but it left Hermione feeling dirty and revolted.
"Oomph," she cried, startled as a heavy weight jumped onto her torso. "Hello Crookshanks! Did you miss me? I bet you're hungry…" she got up and headed off to the kitchen to fill up his food. "You know Crookshanks," she sighed as she saw the fat cat scoff down his food, "you keep eating like that you won't look like a cat anymore. More like a fluffy wombat."
As she stood amused at her cats eating habits she thought she heard the front door shut. "Strange," Hermione had locked the door and all her protection spells were up. She laid back on the lounge and closed her eyes. It wasn't long before her tired eyes shot open and goose bumps broke out on her body. Her training had made her senses sharp and she learned to trust her instincts. Somebody was in her house and she was unarmed. "Bother."
She slowly made her way back to the kitchen and down the hallway. There were no lights on in her house; her senses would be working over time now. As she saw a shadow move across the floor, she remained against the wall and tried to keep her pounding heart from escaping her chest.
The intruder made no sound, and moved with astounding agility; clearly they knew what they were doing, the perfect hunter for the prey.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she saw a wand rise in the shadows. Inappropriate thoughts were running through her head, I hope Crookshanks isn't eating too much…good Merlin I might die…but I really have to go to the bathroom…I'm going to die dressed like a tart…; finally she gave up on her head and went with her gut. "It's now or never," she mumbled and jumped on the figure that was just passing her.
Red was sitting at his desk, smoking a pipe, and staring into space. Yesterday he travelled both to her house in London and Ireland in search of Hermione, alas the protection spells surrounding her were too powerful for him to disarm, leaving him fuming and lethal. He had broken countless ornaments in his office and had sent a few curses at his staff, one resulting in a trip to St Mungo's.
Crouch put down the paper he was reading and looked up this boss unflinching, "What did you expect? The woman's works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, of course she's going to keep herself covered."
Percy kept staring into space; the only thing keeping him sane was his hand movement to and from his mouth. He checked Hermione's parchment again. Still in Ireland.
"What's the status of that journalist?"
"Patil? We put her under Imperius. Unfortunately she doesn't know a thing; just about the letters we've been sending to your brother. We've got a few men watching her. If she acts up again though, well, we need subjects to test the new drug on."
Ah yes, his new creation for both the Wizarding and Muggle community alike. Forn21 was a new sex drug that rendered its user a slave to his or her own sexual desires. It affected the hormones and pheromones of its user for 21 hours, and made them crave release. If they didn't find it, well, they either died or went mad. Though they were still perfecting its chemistry, they had sent it out onto the street to trial and it proved to be very successful financially. He blew out a puff of smoke, everyone wanted to fuck. "Has Nott come back yet?"
"No, I'm guessing that bastard's got him. Malfoy's not stupid Red, he'd have figured it out."
Red rubbed his clean-shaven chin, Nott was as good as dead and the son of a bitch had some information to tell him. Something about a spy in his ranks. "Pity." He leaned back in his leather chair and stared and stared at the parchment again. London.
Crouch rolled his eyes. "Are you going to look for Granger or not? She's got to be back, she left her cat for god's sake…I'm sure she'd have taken her cat if she was going somewhere…"
Percy sent the nephew of Bartemius Crouch a Cruciatus curse at the suggestion and left with a pop. It was either that or kill him.
He had been walking down the hallway when a figure jumped on top of him. "God damn it," he said as the body wrestled him to the floor.
A fist was coming toward his face at full force and Draco just moved away before it left him with a bloody nose. The body was soft, too feminine to be male… "Granger…!"
She stopped wrestling the strong figure and leaned over him, her hands gripping at his over his head and her legs keeping his own tight together. She had recognised that deep, husky voice in an instant, "What the hell are you doing here Malfoy?"
"Hello to you too Granger, is this how you greet all of your guests?"
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she repeated, her eyes boring into his; not that he could see of course, it was dark in her house.
He sighed and without effort flipped their positions. With a flick of his wand he conjured a light at the end of its tip. He looked down at her leather clothes. "Desk job not paying too well?"
She groaned and flipped him back over, almost too easily- she mused, he'd let her. She stood and left him on the floor. "Not that it's your business, but I was on assignment."
He folded his hands behind his head, casually resting on the floor, and gave her an apprising gaze "At the Torture Garden?"
"What do you want ferret? If it weren't for Ron, I'd have put you in Azkaban by now."
"I'd love to see that Granger, you're pretty good with wandless incantations, but not that good." He flicked out her wand from his pocket and was now twirling it around his fingers.
"Where'd you get that? Give it back this instant!" she made a grab at his arms, his reflexes too quick for her.
"You left it on the table," he stood up, his tall frame shadowing her own. "I can't explain it to you now Granger, but we have to go."
Stubbornly she folded her arms, "With you? I don't think so. I'd rather bring Voldemort back from the grave. You can get out of my house now."
Running a pale hand through his platinum locks he sighed, "Don't make me beg Granger. Believe me, having to baby-sit you is not one of my major priorities…"
"Baby-sit me? Right Malfoy, what have you and your goons been smoking now? Get out!"
"Fine," his temper on boiling point; though he'd be damned he'd show it. He hastily made his way over toward her and cornered her. He brought his head close to her face. "In about two minutes your house is going to be bombarded by Red's gang, you'll be defenceless; not that I care but if anything happens to you, but Weasley is going to have my neck."
Her hands stopped trying to shove Draco away and rested on his chest, "Ron's got something to do with this? Now what have you conned him into…"
He lifted her chin up a bit too harshly, so that she looked up at him. He saw her guards were down, her body told him she wasn't afraid; but her eyes blazed with fear. For Ron or herself he wasn't sure, but she was worried. "You're either coming with me now, or you can stay here and be tormented by Red. Personally you deserve it. So what's it going to be?"
She would've spit if she could, her loathing for him growing, but she held her temper and yanked her head from his grasp. "I'm staying."
"Fine," he said and with a pop left her standing, flushed in the corner.
"Damn him to hell. How dare he barge into my house uninvited and …" she was muttering to herself. If she hadn't been so preoccupied with Draco, she'd have sensed another figure looming behind her that now had her in their grasp.
She tried to scream, but the intruder's hand was covering her mouth tightly. She wondered if it was Malfoy toying with her, but could tell by her body's reaction to the figure that it was someone else. Oh Merlin, Percy?
"You should've listened to Malfoy, Hermione," that familiar voice patronised in the dark.
"Oh? Starting to do your own dirty work are you now Percival? Doesn't bode well for the longevity of your gang." She hastily searched the room for her wand and remembered Draco had taken it. She made a note that if ever she got out of this pickle, she'd kill him…or at least hurt him severely…whichever worked- it took too much energy to perform a spell wandless, and she had a feeling she'd need as much of it as she could get.
She realised if she wanted to get out she'd have to hit hard. Percy could apparate any second if he wanted to, why was he stalling? She quickly thought back to her training in Muggle self-defence and acted fast. She bit down at his hand and elbowed him hard in the stomach.
Red swore and made another grab at her. Hermione ran quickly down the hallway scolding herself for not listening to the Idiot for once, but then she'd never listen to him period; even if the fate of the world had rested in the two corresponding with one another. She felt a spell hit her back hard and she was flung onto the wall.
"Nice try Hermione, but wand-less you're useless," he grabbed her hair and pulled it back, the light at the end of his wand shining in her face. "Such a pretty thing like you shouldn't be walking around in the dark defenceless. Could get yourself into a sticky situation…literally." He snarled as her body was glued onto the wall.
His eyes wandered down her form, stopping at her full breasts bulging out of the leather top she was wearing. He then traced his fingers down her body stopping between her legs. "I could think of a lot of things we could do with your costume…" he brought his lips crashing down onto hers, his tongue forcing its way through her lips.
Her body was being violated and she could do nothing but stick to a freggin wall, she thought. The more she resisted his moves the more he pulled on her hair and dug his hands into her body. She let him kiss her and then bit down on his tongue hard. She could taste blood in her mouth.
"You Mudblood bitch," he said and slapped her. He was about to punch her when a figure popped behind them.
"Now is that totally necessary?" And the lights turned on.
He had apparated into a room upstairs to let her fall into a false sense of security that he had left her alone. Fat freggin chance, he thought. Not if I want to end up in Azkaban, damn that weasel.
Her damn Gryffindor stubbornness had annoyed him and her femininity even more so, stirring through him like an electric shock. There was little left to the imagination in what she was wearing and Draco was man enough to notice the slenderness of her thin waist and the strong curve of her hips.
When had the book geek grown them? He wondered at her breasts. Surely "Hogwarts, a History" wasn't that magical?
Even though his thoughts were taking over his mind, his senses were sharp enough to hear another pop from down stairs. "Show time."
Draco slowly made his way downstairs, trying not to make any sudden movements. He scolded himself, not that he'd ever admit it, for taking her wand: she was unarmed.
By the time he found them, Hermione was up against the wall and the shock red head right up against her. His blood boiled even more so, that when Granger opened her mouth it took all of his control not to kill the bastard. Why he didn't, he had no idea himself.
He could see she was exhausting fast, the spell seeping away all the energy of its victim: making it a perfect spell for those being tortured. Then he slapped her; that bastard hit her and he lost it.
"You Mudblood bitch."
"Now is that totally necessary?"
Hermione looked up at Draco and didn't know whether to be relieved or angry that he had left with her only defence. He winked at her.
"Oh what do you want Malfoy? Can't you see I'm busy?" he turned his back on Hermione and fired a spell at Draco that he expertly dodged.
"Ho! If you planned to miss then you succeeded! Give this a go next time… Relashio!" Draco sent a flurry of hot sparks his way.
Red hissed, as he fought his way from the sparks that were burning his body.
Draco shouted a spell at Hermione and she fell from the wall. She tried to get up but found she was totally weak from the binding curse. "I can't…"
"Shit," Draco mumbled and stalked over to Hermione. Red had countered Draco's curse and sent one himself that caused Draco to fly back and slammed into the wall hard. "Bloody hell…"
Red made his way over to Hermione and pushed her down, "Do anything stupid again and I will kill you." He grabbed at her wrist and painfully tugged her up. He was about to apparate when Hermione slapped the wand out of his hands and poked him in the leg with it.
Red was firing obscenities as he fell to the floor, holding his leg in pain. He grabbed at Hermione, who was trying to get to Draco, and slammed her into the floor, her head hitting it with a deadly thud.
"Damn it," she cried. This was getting out of control, she thought.
Draco looked over to Hermione who was holding up her concussed head with all the energy she had left. "Time to end this," and fired a spell at Red, who fell to the floor and withered in pain. He stalked over to Hermione and lifted her up. "If you had bloody listened the first time you wouldn't be concussed and bleeding would you?"
"What…what are you doing?" she asked, still in a daze and in Malfoy's strong arms.
"I'm apparating, what does it look like?" he snarled.
"Not without Crookshanks, we're not going anywhere without him!"
"Your bloody cat? Granger, you're bad enough. I'm not having another animal in the house…" he stopped and stared at her dead in the eye.
She glared up at him, "We're taking the cat, Malfoy."
He recognised that look. It was the same one his mother used to give when she was dead set on her way, and nothing he could do would change it. "Damn you and your bloody feline. Where is that fat thing anyway?"
"Kitchen," she mumbled and went limp in his body.
"Figures." He made his way over to the room with Hermione in his arms and found the cat stuffing his face with large soggy clumps of meat, totally unaware- or more like- unfazed at the commotion in the other room. "Disgusting." He grabbed the cat and shoved in on Hermione's belly. He thought the cat weighed more that she did.
A green spark narrowly grazed his head and Draco turned to face a seething Red, who had just recovered from the Cruciatus curse, leaning against the doorframe. "Next time I won't miss."
"Let's not forget the countless number of times you used Unforgivables on me during the War," he stalled and tried to get out his wand from his pockets, but his hands were preoccupied holding Hermione and her wombat. "You chained me up and threw them at me like it was a common curse. I have to thank you for that, I'm now immune."
Red rolled his eyes, exhausted and angry as his was, he kept his cool. "Well as payback, give me Granger. What are you going to do with her? Put her on your wall or maybe add her to your collection of tarts and trollops?"
"Sounds tempting…" he got it. "Spy on me again Weasley and you'll be begging me to end your life."
Red shot out his wand but it was too late, Draco had already gone.
Draco apparated into the master bedroom where he found Bessie waiting. "How did you know I was going to be here?"
She ignored his questions and scurried over to them. She touched the cut on his face, "what happened? I thought you were supposed to get her and apparate back? Not get into some fight with-"
"Bessie, this is Granger we're talking about. As stubborn as a constipated Hippogriff's ass- as if she'd come with open arms…" he dropped her down onto the bed and she began to stir.
"Gently you twat!" she scolded, putting some ointment on a tissue and tended his cut.
Hermione stirred and saw Draco. With what energy she could muster she brought he hand up to his face and slapped him: he didn't flinch.
"What the hell was that for?"
She fell back down, "that was for taking my wand."
"Oh I like her," Bessie smiled then frowned, "you took her wand?"
Draco was still seething with shock he pushed her hand away. "I don't need that woman, I'm fine."
Bessie pushed him down onto the bed and slapped the ointment on. "Stop whining Draco."
"You'd think I was the one who tried to kill her…ungrateful trollop…" he mumbled and held the tissue with his hand. No Malfoy needed any tending and this was doing damage to his ego; he would do it himself. He started to feel drowsy. "Have you drugged me you obstinate bovine?"
"Yes, now lie down and be quiet," she left the two sleeping figures and turned to the portrait in the room.
"Don't wake them up Narcissa; heaven knows how loud and vile you can be."
The haughty looking blonde in the portrait held up her chin, "I don't see why a Mudblood is in this house. I thought Draco had enough dignity to throw her out, but no, he totally disregards the Malfoy name and brings that kind into our house…"
Bessie grew impatient at Mrs. Malfoy who still held onto her old ways and look where they led her: to death. "He's a big boy now Narcissa; he makes his own living and his own rules. If you ever want to have a relationship with him anymore, you'd do well to respect that."
"If only Lucius were here to see this!" Narcissa spat and left the portrait, probably to tell some of the other Malfoy portraits a Mudblood was in the house.
Bessie levitated the portrait and sent it over to the dungeons. It wouldn't do for her to be sticking her nose into Draco's business. Serves her right, the old woman thought and with a smile left the room.
Ron held his head in his hands and took a sip of his cider. He'd substituted Firewhiskey because well, at the rate he'd been slugging it down, he'd be unconscious.
He had just finished saying good bye to his wife via floo, realising he wouldn't see his family for months…or at least until they sorted out what the hell was going on. They had gone into hiding in France along with the rest of his family in order to try escape the wrath of the gangs that wanted him killed.
Only Ginny hadn't accompanied her family to Paris, she was with her husband Harry on a mission to the unknowns… literally. Whilst no one knew of their whereabouts, a select few did know how to contact them.
There was a rustling from the wall and Ron noted a previous Minister had returned to his portrait from his trip to the Malfoy mansion. "It seems that Ms Granger is safe at the Malfoy mansion…if you can call it that…"
Relief flooded Ron's face, Malfoy had done it. And with a couple of bruises too he chuckled. "Good, the best news I've heard all day."
"Well I doubt that old grouch Narcissa thinks it's jolly. She almost had a coronary, and probably would've died, had she not been dead already. Imagine a Muggleborn in her house!"
He could only imagine the number of arguments Hermione and Mrs Malfoy would have. He kind of felt sorry for the latter, Hermione was a feisty. "As long as there aren't two portraits of them on the wall I'm satisfied."
Red apparated into his office and just as he assumed, Crouch was still reading that god damn paper. He stalked over to him and slammed him into the floor.
"Jesus Red," Crouch spluttered. "What the hell happened?"
"Malfoy, that's what happened." He let go of the crouching figure. "Saved her sorry ass, that bastard did…and now he has her."
Thoughts ran through his muddled mind until he finally came to the conclusion that Ron had something to do with it. He must've ordered Draco, his partner in crime, to take her…but how did Ron know what was going on? Surely the two goons he sent to steal the files wouldn't have made it that obvious they were in his team. It all had to do with that Malfoy, damn him.
He stalked over to his desk, pulled out a draw behind which was a secret compartment. Unlocking it, he withdrew the parchment that detailed Hermione Granger's whereabouts. It was empty. Fuck shit. She was with Malfoy.
Next time, Red thought, I'm going to kill that son of a bitch. Then I'm going to have a little fun with Granger and kill the others…and anyone else who wants to fuck around with me…He opened his coat looked into his pocket. The only good thing to come out of this debacle was that the idiot dropped Hermione's wand.
The thought was interrupted with a whiny voice. "Well how do you know Malfoy's actually taken her? Maybe he wants his own fun…"
"Because you worthless excuse for four billion years of evolution," Red slammed, "…he took her freggin cat!"