I couldn't believe it. Of course, I don't believe much after years of lies and obfuscation, but this was one thing I really couldn't believe. Namely the fact that Ginny Weasley, one-time love of my life, was laying next to me on the sagging couch of my dreams. And that she was naked under my robes.

I watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed evenly. I'm not a saint—it was quite a chest. And she was quite a girl. The intervening years had obviously taught her a few tricks, and I was pretty confident she hadn't learned any of them from her husband.

The thought of Harry made me shudder involuntarily. He had been my best friend. We had been through thick and thin—mostly thick. But once he had married Ginny it had all fallen apart. It's not like I hadn't seen it coming. Even in those days I had a knack for prognostication, not the kind peddled by Trelawney and her band of charlatans, but the kind developed over months of living in a tent with someone who tried very hard to keep his voice down in the middle of the night but more often than not failed. I shook my head to erase the memories of Harry groaning in his bunk.

Ginny's eyes blinked open and she smiled. "Hey there," she murmured and stretched in a way that was probably illegal.

"Hey," I said. Post-coital small talk had never been my strong suit.

She yawned and sat up, rubbing her eyes. I steeled myself for her reaction when the cold light of day illuminated my living conditions. "What a dump," she said.

"Yeah, but it's my dump," I replied. "At least for now."

"What happened to you?" Ginny asked. I looked at her, trying to read her meaning. She wasn't being unkind, it was just a way she had.

"Things got hard," I said simply. "I made some enemies."

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you?"

She nodded and shook out her hair. Even the light that filtered into my flat was mangy, but somehow it made her more beautiful.

"I'm starved," she announced and stood up, my robes sliding off her body. I took a moment to drink it in. Not a lot of beauty around here. The girls I'd managed to finagle might look good through a pair of scotch-colored glasses, but when the hangover set in they were always as cheap as their price.

She strolled through the flat, picking up her things. I was struck by a wave of nostalgia, remembering all those early-morning scrambles for clothes and knapsacks before breakfast. I shook it off. Nostalgia was dangerous. And even though I loved her, had always loved her, too much water had passed under the bridge for me to be able to indulge in this little ritual worry-free. "So what's the plan?" she asked.

"Breakfast," I replied, pulling on my own shirt. "And then I've got a few things to do, as I'm sure you do."

"Kicking me out already?" she said, the hint of a pout making her lips even more luscious. That mouth would be the death of me.

"Not exactly. I just think it might look a little odd, you know?"

She shrugged. "I suppose. Though you certainly do know how to make a girl feel unwanted."

"Are you kidding me?" I cried. "I want you like the House Cup."

She grinned. "That's better. Get dressed. I'm buying."

We ducked out of the building, Ginny not even asking why we took the back stairs. That's my girl, all right. Never questions subterfuge.

I led her to a dirty little café around the block. The waitress grunted when I walked in and I sat down at my usual booth. "Eggs," I said. "And sausages. Cup of Joe's special blend." Code word for "plus whiskey." Ginny raised her eyebrow. That girl could see right through me.

"A little early, don't you think?"

"Hey, I don't question your entertainments. Don't question my breakfast."

She frowned. "I told you why I was at Zabini's."

I shook my head. "You told me part of why you were at Zabini's. Meeting some cohorts of Malfoy's. But—and this is no comment on the dress—you looked awfully comfortable."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The waitress plopped a cup in front of me and I took a deep swallow. The booze helped immediately. "Get her one too," I said. The waitress grunted again and shuffled off behind the counter.

"I've been there a couple of times before, all right? Nothing serious."

"I didn't know you traveled in such exclusive circles." It wasn't the best way to start my day, but I figured my luck from last night had overstayed its welcome anyway. I didn't want to upset her, but the years had worn away my sensitivity. Sure I loved her, who wouldn't? But there was still a job attached, and if I was going to do it I had to create a little distance.

"I used to hang around with Pansy a little," she admitted finally.

"Oh really? Just a couple of girls out on the town?"

"She was my friend! She was my only friend for a while," Ginny said defensively. "You know what Harry was into. It's not like I had a lot of choice," she added, shooting daggers at me with her eyes.

"If you're implying it's my fault--"

"Of course it's your fault!" she hissed. "You left me! You left me all by myself with nobody to talk to!"

I sighed and took another swallow of my coffee. "I'm sorry, all right? But once Harry started getting mixed up in all that dirty business I had to back out. I didn't want to be the one who brought him down. I know we had our differences, but there was too much history for it to be me. And you . . ." I had to stop. Couldn't get misty-eyed. It doesn't look good for a gumshoe to get all gooey. Not professional.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Damn. Tears again.

"Yeah. I know." It might not have been true, but I had to change the subject. "So," I said a little louder than was necessary. "Tell me everything, from the beginning. Harry's been missing two weeks. When did he disappear? Where from? What about the note?"

Ginny swallowed hard, and looked inordinately grateful when the waitress brought her cup. "Well," she began. "He went out to meet with some of his business partners. And I don't know who they are, so don't ask. He doesn't tell me anything. All I know is it has something to do with the Ministry, and once he mentioned something about the Department of Mysteries."

"But that's been disbanded!" I said.

"Mysterious, isn't it," Ginny replied dryly. "Anyway, when he left all he took was his wand."

"That's good, isn't it? He could defend himself." Harry might not have been the shiniest Sickle in the bag but he always seemed pretty capable of fighting back. It was one of the few things I was happy to say I'd picked up from him.

"I guess," Ginny said doubtfully. "He didn't come home that night but I . . . wasn't very worried," she finished quietly.

"Habit of staying out late?"

She nodded.

"Women on the side?"

She squirmed uncomfortably.

"Don't tell me."

"I won't."

I was flabbergasted. No amount of private-eye training could keep the surprise off my face. "I lied. Tell me."

"It wasn't serious," she said. "At least that's what he told me."

"And you believed him?" I cried.

"It's not like my marriage was serious, Hermione," she admonished. "What did you think I was getting up to with Pansy?"

That one hit me like a ton of bricks. Let Harry gallivant around with all the fancy boys he chose, but hearing that Ginny, my Ginny, had been two-timing him with a Slytherin, made the whiskey-infused coffee churn uncomfortably in my stomach. Unfortunately it was right at that moment the waitress decided to slap the plate with my greasy eggs and gelatinous sausage right in front of me. I thought I was going to be sick. On the other hand, she'd just solved my case. On the other other hand, no way could I bring that back to Malfoy.

The day was quickly clouding over.

"So," I said with difficulty, "what else?"

"I've upset you," Ginny said, sounding dismayed. Of course she had, and she knew it. It made the little Sneakoscope inside my head start whirling again. Time had driven away almost all of my sentimentality. I wouldn't put a doublecross past her. She was a Weasley.

"So he didn't come home that night," I said firmly.

"No."

"And how long did it take before you decided to get worried?" I had to play it cold as ice. I was on shaky ground as it was.

"Until I got the note," Ginny said, a little abashed.

"And that was . . ."

"Five days later."

"Five days, huh."

"Yes," she snapped. I had forgotten that she could be a real firecracker when she wanted.

"All right. Harry disappears. Five days later you get a note demanding ten thousand Galleons and this mysterious briefcase. And you have no idea what's in the briefcase."

"No idea. He never said anything except I wasn't ever to give it to anyone."

"That's a little funny," I said. At last the booze was starting to help my reasoning along.

"Funny?"

"Not, 'make sure this stays safe' or 'don't touch it.' Just 'don't give it to anyone.' Like he knew someone would want it."

"If you take the trouble to have a safe installed in your house I'm guessing it's not much of a stretch to think someone would want it."

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "But still. How did you come to hear from Malfoy's goons?"

She took a drink of her coffee and grimaced a little. I shrugged. "They're the ones who brought the note, remember? Then they showed back up again last week. Said someone wanted to meet with me and that I wasn't to take any action on the demand."

"That's fucking ridiculous," I said. This whole thing was fucking ridiculous. I suddenly had a hell of a headache. "First they demand the ransom and then tell you they don't want it."

"You think it makes sense to me? I'm just trying to get through this with a clean nose."

Good girl. "So why Malfoy? Harry wasn't dealing with him . . . professionally, was he?"

"No, thank you, Harry had nothing to do with him. As far as I know. Anyway, Malfoy's damaged goods, nobody in the city will touch him. Not after all the war business came out."

It was true. In the grand tradition of hypocrisy the world over, the people who had been outspoken in their support of Voldemort had been shunned, if not imprisoned, while the ones behind the scenes, even the ones everyone knew about like Zabini, managed to come out of it smelling like a rose. Malfoy had been living on what little of his family's money remained, which wasn't much. No wonder Pansy was running around. But I couldn't think about that.

"Near as I can tell, Malfoy just wants the money. And the briefcase. Which makes me think it's got something in it, documents or something, that will help him get a little power back."

The girl was smart. Always had been. Maybe not book smart like I was, but what she knew of the streets could have filled the Hogwarts library five times over. The old thought of "if she'd only applied herself to her studies more" came rushing back to me. I smiled a little, then pushed it away.

"So what did his little henchmen tell you last night?"

"First of all, they weren't little," she said. "And they told me Harry was still alive, that he was safe, and as long as I played along he'd stay that way."

"What did they want you to do?"

"They want me to go to a party," she said.

"A party?" I was gonna need a lot more liquor to make it through this day.

"At Malfoy's."

"When?"

"Tomorrow night. I'm supposed to bring the money and the briefcase. I'm guessing the people I'm supposed to give it to will be there."

"Good guess."

"Look, Hermione, we're not all geniuses like you."

"Most days I doubt if I'm one." It was true. Sometimes I'd try to do Charms in my head and there were days I couldn't even figure out Alohomora. But it was a small price to pay to escape from the horrors of the past few years. At least that's what I told myself.

"Anyway," she said. "Do you think I should go?"

"Do you want Harry back?"

There was a long pause. "I dunno. He's an awful git."

Merlin, I loved her.

"Thing is," she said, "I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what they'll do to me if I don't follow through."

"Did they threaten you?" I made a mental note to practice my old DA skills. Sure she might be a dirty double-crosser, but damn it, if anybody tried to hurt her I'd have to do something about it. Just the kind of person I was. Too bad honor doesn't come with a paycheck.

"Not exactly. But I get the feeling Malfoy sent his giants for a reason. Hermione," she said tentatively, and tentatively on her was like a smile on a centaur—something you noticed.

"Yeah?"

"Would you—would you come with me to the party? I mean, you can say no."

Like I could say no to her. But it would be a tight spot getting through Malfoy's security unnoticed. I supposed I could make some excuse about working on his case, though I knew how Malfoy felt about people getting on his case about anything.

"With my million-Galleon wardrobe? I'll just saunter right in," I said. Hey, I had to make it look like I was tough. Pretty tall order when you're sitting across from the girl I was. Even if she had broken my heart a thousand ways.

"Of course we'll get you some new things," she said hastily. "I didn't mean--"

"I know you didn't mean anything. Don't worry about it."

Speaking of picking up the check, at that moment the waitress lumbered over and dropped the bill on the tabletop. Ginny picked it up and fiddled with it. "Muggle money?" she asked. I nodded. She reached into her dress again and fished out a credit card. Amazing the things she kept in there, and why hadn't I seen her put it back?

"I'm a witch, Hermione," she reminded me, reading my mind again. Come to think of it, she had gotten out of her clothes pretty fast last night.

"Well," I said.

"Well."

"I really do have some things to do today." Like rack my brain for another possible playmate for Pansy.

"Yeah. So I guess we should meet tomorrow before the party? To get you some proper clothes?"

"Sounds good. Where?"

"Why don't you come to the house?" I inhaled deeply, the air whistling between my teeth. I didn't know if I could do it. I was pretty tough, but I didn't know if I was that tough.

"Or we could just meet at the Leaky Cauldron. Two o'clock?" Bless her.

"Two o'clock. The Leaky Cauldron. Check."

We went up to the counter and paid. Headed outside. I was about to turn away to go back to my flat when she caught my arm.

"Hermione," she said. I turned back, but before I could speak she pulled me close and kissed me. One of those whiz-bang kisses that'll make you forget your own name. She was quite a dame. "Don't be late," she whispered. I nodded dumbly and stared after her as she sauntered down the street. Hypnotized by her swinging hips. You'd think a girl who played sports most of her life would've been a little less . . . I don't know. All I knew was she moved like a veela and twice as sexy, which was saying a lot.

After she'd disappeared around a corner I managed to make my legs start working again. I was nearly to my flat when I noticed two bulky wizards loitering in front of the door. I can't say how I knew they were wizards. Could've been intuition. Could've been the wands. Could've been the jinx that knocked me cold on the pavement.

Could've been that.