Chapter 2:

"I violently dislike you."

Mr. Robert Tendon, Rob to friends, watched the six spherical balls floating in midair. The silver row was immobile with the exception of the two on opposite ends that would systematically be knocked away from the row by its nemesis' returning momentum.

He's nervous gaze slipped away from the silhouette blurred by the final rays of the setting sun and turned instead to face the grand mirror to his right. The elaborate golden fame stretched across the length of the room and it seemed impossible to hide from the grand device. Not that the room's other two occupants had anything to hide from.

He felt the amused gaze on his back. The unknown man had been there since he'd arrived, seated comfortably on the black leather settee placed against the rear wall, but an introduction had yet to be provided. He shifted uncomfortably in the low back chair he occupied. Like all of the furniture in the office it was pure antique elegance. Expensive elegance. He swallowed.

"According to your contract Mr. Tendon, I should have had exactly two hundred and fifty eight Demiguise pelts in my possession for over a week now. I have been contracted by an associate to provide exactly two hundred and fifty eight Demiguise pelts with which he will have exactly two hundred and fifty eight invisibility cloaks made. The reason I have asked you to attend this meeting Mr. Tendon is that not only are those two hundred and fifty eight pelts not in my possession but it was brought to my attention that they have been sold to a party which, at this time, remains unknown. An explanation if you please Mr. Tendon."

He's guarded attention brought back to the silhouette still facing away from him Rob mentally stumbled over a few lies before his mouth decided to echo a reply fueled by self preservation, "I was under the impression that with your father's passing all agreements were to be made null."

"Now where on earth did you get that gem of brilliance."

The silhouette turned his head only slightly; enough to give his associate a silencing glance.

"Your contract was made with a Mr. Lucious Malfoy. You are now dealing with a Mr. Draco Lucious Malfoy. The agreement stands. What you have is the sale of contracted goods which will legally land you in Azkaban for many a month."

Mr. Tendon glanced briefly at the newly drafted contract on the table before him.

"Allow me to make this as monosyllabic as possible Mr. Tendon. I. Want. My. Pelts. Back. Failure to comply could lead you or your family into some easily avoidable misfortune from both within the ministry as well as …shall we say…without."

Blaise could only envy Malfoy for the perfectly paced monologue he delivered with effortless ease. A Malfoy family trait as hereditary as the clan's silver eyes or near white hair.

"Are you thre-"

"Your eldest grandson, Brian? He recently won a scholarship to the University of the Healing Arts hasn't he Mr. Tendon?"

"Yes. Yes he has, Mr. Malfoy." He remembered the look on Brian's face when the owl came. He wouldn't see that taken away for a few extra galleons. He reached for the quill on the desk.

Malfoy smirked into his reflection relieved the meeting had gone so quickly and so well. The sun was beginning to sting his eyes.

"There is one more thing Mr. Tendon. You other buyer. His name?"

"I swear I never heard it Mr. Malfoy. Never dealt with 'him in person."

Malfoy finally turned and his eyes immediately met Mr. Tendon's, as though he'd been watching him during the entire episode.

"But uh, but…but I don't think he was English."

"And how would you know that, never having met him Mr. Tendon."

"My…my grand daughter, Melissa, she studies birds and the like, anything with wings sir. She mentioned that the owl he'd been using was rare in the Kingdoms. Origins in the east in uh, India or the like. That's all I know about him."

'Azizi' A muscle in Draco's eye twitched all but naked to the naked eye.

Malfoy strode over to a cabinet and poured the good Mr. Tendon a strong fire whiskey. He handed it to the man with a predatory smile. And looked over the contract to make sure everything was in perfect order.

Rob quickly downed his whiskey, wanting to escape the office as soon as possible. "If that's all Mr. Malfoy…"

Draco picked up the glass and walked to redeposit it on the liqueur cabinet before the mirror. He still held the contract. He looked up at the man.

"I only hope we do not have to suffer similar experiences in the future Mr. Tendon. Oh and could you please send in my secretary on your way out. Thank you Mr. Tendon. "

Rob didn't even bother with the niceties of goodbye but nearly scrambled to leave the office.

"Well that was fun. Draco Lucious Malfoy. Did you change your name and no one told me?"

Draco continued to ignore Blaise's smirking face and to continued to appear to read the document. In reality he was watching the reflection of the silver balls on his desk. The reflection, which stilled completely in the mirror's silence, oblivious to the motion of their physical counter parts, upon the entrance of his secretary, Miss Anna Townsley. He handed the attractive honey blonde woman the document and told her to file it.

The reflection was restored to motion on her exit.

"Bollin!"

An elderly house elf emerged from a shadowed corner of the office. He said nothing as he stood with his head bowed, waiting for his orders.

"Give Zambini his money and then have Miss Townsley followed. She's up to something and I want to know what it is and who it's for by tomorrow."

Bollin walked over and produced a bag full of galleons for the blonde man on the settee.

Zambini grinned a fools grin at the oft-ignored house elf. He could never resist temping the old figure into anger but had never succeeded. He'd only seen him angry once and after that had sworn it wiser not to be hated by the powerful yet easily suppressed creatures. That kappa paid a sever price for attacking a young Malfoy.

"Thanks Charlie!"

Bollin turned and rolled its eyes over one of the more common annoyances in his other wise docile life. He hurried to the corner's hidden entrance. The young master had been on edge all week and Bollin deemed it wiser not to pause in his bidding.

Blaise opened that bag and looked inside.

"Kind of much for a delivery don't you think?" He said referring to the sealed package lying beside him on the settee.

"Delivery? And that would make you what, a postman?"

"Well what would you call it. I didn't get it for you, I just got it out of the Ministry."

Blaise got up and walked to the liqueur cabinet dropping the thick envelope in front of Malfoy on the desk.

"What is it anyway?"

"My business."

Malfoy didn't touch the folder but watched his best friend enjoy the drink. "Fifty galleons for you, fifty for our friend in the ministry."

"And the rest?"

"For a favor."

Blaise paused and turned to face Malfoy interested. Slytherin's they may be but he'd met few minds so determined in their vengeance. Draco Malfoy didn't believe in an eye for an eye but rather an eye for a head, and if possible both your balls on a silver platter. "And…?"

Malfoy grinned.

"If you don't tell me now I'm walking out that door with your damned gold." A grinning Blaise was swinging his drink in a manner that would have been described as frivolent had it not been for the lack of spillage on the black-veined marble floor. It was an old game from their childhood.

"It seems our friend Sheik Azizi has been dabbling in business that is not his again."

"Don't tell me you believed that bird crap. Of course, but I knew long before who was trying to knife me. Now I need some way of returning the favor. Preferably legal."

"I do have a friend of a friend who's in a bit of a spot."

"Oh." Malfoy could feel the thrill of the kill approaching. Blaises friends normally brought interesting results. He waited for his friend to sip his drink before he volunteered any more information.

"He's into dragon eggs. Trouble is someone slipped and now the Aurors are pushing him for he's buyer."

"Who is?"

"Not sure but the friend prefers Azkaban to naming him. I'm sure that the favor could be arranged to be returned at a later date."

"There'll be four eggs in his palace by tomorrow night."

"But he lives in Saudi Arabia."

"He's back from his trip? Then make it dawn."

Blaise replaced his glass and walked to the settee to retrieve his coat. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"Too late."

Malfoy valued Blaise for this. His father had always taught him the danger of weakness of close friends but to Blaise, they were still two teenagers believing that all the world was their playground and everyone, their toys.

Blaise paused at the door, his hand centimeters from the handle. Malfoy's entire office building had anti-apparating spells and only certain rooms had port key access.

"This is the third time the Sheik's been after you. What did you do any way."

He looked back to the white haired man. He hadn't moved. He was still leaning back in his chair with his hands gently balled in front of his mouth but Blaise had been quick enough to catch the glance to the hidden room containing, among other more valuable possessions, the silver eyed perverts 'trophies'.

"His wife?"

Draco jerked his left eyebrow up and down.

"His wives! How many?"

"Enough. It's really his own fault. The man should really keep a closer watch at his banquets."

"But you only went to one."

"I know."

Blaise couldn't stop laughing even after he had left the building. If he ever got married, God forbid, the lucky bride would never be left alone with Draco. They may be best friends but there were somethings you should never trust another man with. They were after all slytherins.

On the corner of his desk, hidden by a vase, was a solid silver quill. It was directly blocked from all lines of sight except the one directly to it's right in the direction of the great mirror and the one from Malfoy's seat behind it's desk. Currently Malfoy was gazing in thought at the quill's reflection in the mirror. A reflection that had only reappeared when Blaise had left the room.

"What are you hidding from me Zambini?"

Draco sighed. He used the crystal sphere on his desk and dismissed Townsley for the night. Certain he was alone he paused only to cast some silencing spells and the like to assure complete privacy. He pulled forward the folder and removed the file it contained.

Upon opening it the first thing greeting his eyes was the moving picture of a brown haired, laughing toddler swinging back and forth in a swing set. She was being pushed alternately by two identical redheaded males who glared at him unceasingly when she wasn't looking.

He turned to the next page and reached into his draw to pull out his reading glasses. He used his wand to pour himself another drink and settled down for a long night.

Name: Shyrian Lilliana Granger

Born: 2 February 1997

Current age: 7

Mother: Hermione Granger

Father: Unknown

Occupation (Mother): Department of mysteries researcher, British Ministry Of magic

Magical Status: possible witch

Medical history: see pages i13 through i24

End chapter

Authors note:

The day Shyrian is born is special because it is the Wiccan celebration of Imbolc (Spring Equinox) in the Northern Hemisphere. For those who don't know Imbolc is a celebration of the end to darkness and celebration of growth.

If the first harry potter book was published in 1997 like my copy says than they would have graduated in 2003. For this child to be as old as I need her to be the story would have to set in 2009/2010 so I'm pushing the Harry Potter story line back a few years. So Shy is 7 in 2003 and has just had a birthday. As to the month she was born, if Malfoy got Granger pregnant the day after they graduated Shy is a month premature, as she should have been born in March (Hermione being fertilized in early July/late June). That's all for now. Thanks.

Quote for the day: "What's the point of being crazy if you can't have any fun?" –a beautiful mind