The Assassination of Draco Malfoy

by Lylian

Chapter 1

The plaque on the oversized desk read, "Chief Constable: Kingsley Shacklebolt." It was polished, and it shined brightly with the lighting of the office. The sign demanded reverence to all who looked at it.

Behind the desk and sitting in a leatherback chair, Shacklebolt coughed slightly to remove her attention from the golden letters back to his face.

"Parkinson, you've been with the agency for how many years now?" he asked from where he was lounging. The office was not cramped at all, unlike hers. It was spacious and luxurious, with many modern commodities that she could only dream of having.

But then again, she was hardly ever in her office anyways.

"Nineteen years, sir," Pansy Parkinson replied promptly.

"Of course," he said. "And you've been an astonishing asset to our team. You've moved up in ranks effortlessly and easily."

Shacklebolt inhaled deeply here, then continued, "Pansy, I believe you were meant to succeed."

She nodded, convinced that she had snagged the promotion she had been after for years.

"I'll get to the point," Shacklebolt went on. "Parkinson, I've decided it is time for a promotion."

She feigned shock. "Well, thank you very much, sir."

"I know you've been after the position of Assistant Chief Constable for a while. And now it's your time to shine."

"Thank you very much, Constable. You won't regret this."

Shacklebolt looked her straight in the eye. "I hope not Parkinson. That's why I've assigned you a final mission to complete."

He handed her a thick manila folder. "He's your last assignment."

Pansy lifted the folder and nearly dropped it when she saw the photograph inside. She was too familiar with this face: the sharp features, grey eyes, down to the scar on the side of his lip.

"Everything we know about Draco Malfoy is in there. His family history, his schooling, his likes, dislikes, every single bit of information we could get on him. Even his past relationships…." Shacklebolt took time to arrange his seating position and fold his hands together. "I believe you had a history with this man?"

She stared down at the photograph, before replying, "That was over two decades ago. I thought he was dead."

"Well apparently, he isn't. He's been risking the safety of our world for the past few months or maybe longer. Only caught his scent recently," said Shacklebolt. "We need him dead."

Pansy had her eyes glued to the moving picture, but when he said this, her eyes shot up.

"Will you be able to complete this assignment?" Shacklebolt asked wearily.

"I'll do my job, sir, and I'll do it well," she replied, coolly.

Shacklebolt was unconvinced. He stood up, walked around his desk, and placed himself eye level with his most valuable member of staff.

"Pansy," he began, moistening his lips. "This assignment is crucial. Not only for our agency, but for the entire Wizarding World. If Malfoy stays alive, everything we know, our whole world would be thrown into disorder and chaos. Half of us, who have worked so hard to get the Wizarding World back to normal after the War, would not even survive to see the end of Malfoy's reign of terror." Shacklebolt sighed heavily, and Pansy could see the creases in his forehead deepen. "You were the only one who I knew would see this job through. But Pansy, if your emotions or your past gets in the way, I don't want to have to give this to another Hit-Wizard."

Pansy straightened up. "Constable, you've known me for a very long time now."

He inclined his head as a sign of affirmation.

"And at first, you didn't trust me, or even like me. But sir, over the years you've seen me complete every single mission that's been assigned to me. If I hadn't put my past or my feelings behind me, I would have never been able to accomplish what I've accomplished. Time and time again I have exceeded expectations. This time is no different. Trust me to do this, sir, and do it well."

A smile slowly appeared on Shacklebolt's face. "Once again, you surprise me, Parkinson. I didn't expect you to agree with this, but now I'm positive that you're ready for the title of Assistant Chief Constable. You'll do well."

Pansy smiled in gratitude, and sat back down.

"Now, about Draco Malfoy," said Shacklebolt, getting back to business. "He's been stirring up a riot in London. We believe he is attempting to become the next Dark Lord. Sources tell us he has been gathering followers around that area, among other places. Many have joined his cause, most of them former Death Eaters or their kin, who either survived the Second War or have somehow escaped punishment. Even after questioning the ones who have reformed or have been placed in Azkaban, we have no definite leads. There have been rumors of his visits to Diagon Alley, but they are only rumors."

"Constable, if there are no definite leads, then where did this information come from?" Pansy inquired.

"An anonymous, but reliable source."

"Sir, whoever this is must know something more about Malfoy's whereabouts. They might even be in his inner circle. That is crucial information to omit. How am I to be sure I can trust this source?"

"I made an oath to keep the source confidential, Pansy. Do you trust my word?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"Then trust me."

After a few moments, Pansy affirmed, "Yes, sir."

"All right," said Shacklebolt. "I have assigned you a partner. Ronald Weasley, of the Auror Department."

Pansy opened her mouth to speak, but Shacklebolt interrupted her.

"I know what you're going to say. But you've got to put those childish school rivalries behind you."

"But, that's not—"

"He doesn't dislike you, Pansy. He's an easy person to work with."

"No, it's just—"

"Okay, maybe the sexual tension between you two finally hit boiling point?"

"Excuse me?" Pansy exclaimed.

"Well, it's not a secret you know. The whole department was wondering when it would finally happen."

"Constable," Pansy cut him short before he started rambling about nonsense. "I was actually going to point out that Weasley is still on the McLaggen case."

"He finished that up yesterday. Turns out thatthe McLaggen didn't kill Romilda Vane. She killed herself and tried to set him up."

"Oh."

"Yes, well," said Shacklebolt with a shrug, "best get started."

Pansy tilted her head towards the Chief Constable and headed out the door.