Disclaimer: Look! Look! *points gleefully* It's the official document saying that I own them all! Look, it's right there! That pig with wings has it in his mouth!

Warnings: Nothing much really. :)

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Smoke & Mirrors.

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Part Four. Murder By Numbers.

"Have you ever envisioned your funeral, Draco?"

Draco was standing over at the sink, washing his hands. He turned his head to left, running his eyes over what he could see of his companion, trying to gauge whether or not the question was asked seriously. "No."

"I have."

This was a surprising revelation to the young blonde. He knew that the man in the shadows was capable of 'envisioning' many things, but had not expected this one. "You have?"

"Yes."

"Why would you want to think about your funeral?"

The man laughed gently, walking up behind Draco and slipped his arms around the boy's waist and smiling when this brought a shiver. "No, you misunderstand me. I meant that I had pictured yours."

"Oh." Draco was less surprised with this. In fact, when he thought about it, it fitted in perfectly. He tilted his head and tensed slightly when warm lips fell to his neck in a gentle kiss.

"Do you want to know how I think it would go?"

Draco's heart was pounding as lust and fear stormed through his body, hard enough to make him fumble with the hand towel he had just reached for. He took a steadying breath and dried his hands, then let them drift to rest on the arms that now held him from behind. "How?"

"Hundreds of people shall come to mourn their loss. These people would bring flowers, sweet smelling and bright, filling the hall with the scent of fading life. Lay them on your coffin as an offering, or perhaps as an apology. It would be during the day, but with dark clouds obscuring most of the light. No rain though, that's what the eyes of the mourners are for." Another soft kiss placed on Draco's neck and the arms tightened somewhat, trying to bring the boy closer. "Don't you think that would be beautiful?"

Draco smiled. "You make it sound pleasant."

"Pity that when it happens you won't be able to appreciate it."

Draco nodded slowly, calmer than he had been before but by no means peaceful. His erection was aching, his headache was building behind his eyes and there was a war going on between his two strongest primal instincts. As always, he couldn't decide what he wanted more, to run or to beg.

"Perhaps we should throw you a mock funeral? We could buy you a coffin and get you to lie in it. Invite a few people we know, they would say such nice things about you." He loosened his grip a little a turned the boy to face him. "I like the idea of you and your coffin. Like my own personal trophy case to hold you, keep you away from the harsh sunlight."

Draco smiled softly again. "You want to keep me safe?"

"If only just to keep you."

Draco slid his hands up hesitantly, never sure how to act in situations like this. It didn't help that sometimes he would be rewarded for doing something and yet, the same thing, could bring punishment at other times. He reasoned that was probably why his heart felt like it was going to fail and he would end up getting his real funeral after all, sooner than expected.

But all that happened this time was he was pulled closer, those lips falling to his this time. He breathed through his nose as a wet tongue pushed passed the barrier of flesh. His jaw moved automatically, allowing entrance to his mouth and as the tongue found his own, Draco's hand slipped up further, coming to rest at the back of the head, barely gripping the soft hair.

When they broke apart, Draco let go completely and let his companion step away to gather his things.

"You always do something to me, Draco. I don't know how you manage it." The voice was deeper than usual, and Draco felt a twinge of pride at the slight quiver he had heard.

But he didn't let it show. He knew that after a hard night's work, things were always more … something. He could never think of the word, but he knew what it felt like. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable." He whispered as a reply.

"Uncomfortable, isn't the right word. We're done for the evening, your progressing well. Finish cleaning up and come downstairs."

Draco was left in the room alone and he looked around trying to get control over his confused emotions. A few steadying breaths as he tried not to think about many things and make his heartbeat return to normal. Idly, he picked up the hand towel again and swirled it around, wondering what he was supposed to finish cleaning. He couldn't really see anything wrong, but it was fairly dark.

"Draco?" The voice called from the hallway.

The blonde sighed, hoping that there actually wasn't anything left to clean up and put the cloth down. "I'm right behind you." It was brighter in the hall and Draco could see him better. He smiled. "Did you see you there?"

"What?"

"When you pictured my funeral. Were you there?"

"Do you think I would go?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you would."

The man smiled and snapped his book shut. "Then I guess that's your answer. Come along, we have to see a few people before I can send you back." He started to walk off and turned back slightly, annoyed at the slow pace Draco was starting. "Quicker!"

Draco obeyed instantly, muttering his concession. "Yes,  sorry.."

They walked in silence, down the staircase, across the hall, down the next staircase, until they reached the dungeons. Rows and rows of bars, the fronts of cells and Draco refused to look into any of them.

"All right, Draco. There's just one last thing we have to take care of tonight. Here it is, number nine."

Draco reluctantly looked into the cell. His eyes widen slightly and he opened his mouth to demand to know what was going on.

"No questioning me, Draco."

Draco was stopped by the warning tone in his voice and his head slumped a little after a few seconds of mental argument. "Yes, Jonas." He stepped forward to unlock the cell and bring the prisoner out.

"Are you even in this world?"

Draco looked up from the wood grain and frowned slightly. "What?"

Morgan patted him on the shoulder gently. "I said 'The coffin's here, should we get them to bring it in straight away?"

Draco nodded. "May as well. It would be a strange funeral where there was no actual dead person."

Morgan was going to comment on how Draco should not be dealing with the situation in that fashion but instead chose a different topic. "What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing much. It doesn't really matter does it?" He sighed and tapped his fingers on the wood.

"You looked kind of, well, flushed."

Draco gave a absent shrug. "Whatever. Go and see what Saria is up to, will you? Last I knew she muttered something about finding some drinks then vanished. And not in the magical way, either."

Morgan nodded and headed off, not really wanting to watch Draco irritably write another obscene word into the pastor's podium with his fingertips. But he knew Draco's bad mood wasn't anyone's fault. Or if it was, then it was everyone's fault.

Draco was frustrated. Three days, and still no-one knew anything. Morgan and Saria had interviewed almost every person who had been present at Draco's birthday celebration, which had brought about nothing. The three of them had poked and prodded every contact they had, whether in the Ministry or other places less pleasant, and hadn't found even a single clue, helpful or otherwise.

He had even leant on a few people he knew would be assisting with the investigation, but it seemed as if Harry and Hermione were just as lost as they were. Frankly he was pissed off about that. He knew that he shouldn't expect instant results, he'd certainly been in this job long enough to understand that, but he felt that at least a tiny bit of progress should have been made by now. He looked over to where Morgan was now physically dragging Saria into the room and sighed, wondering what they were going to start arguing about now.

"I found her outside, hitting on one of the valets."

Draco pushed his hair away from his eyes and nodded. "Don't you have any class?"

"He was hot!" She argued back in her defense.

"We're about to attend a funeral." Morgan muttered as he checked his clothes to make sure everything looked clean and neat. He walked off, leaving Draco to deal with Saria as the blonde seemed to be the only one who could talk any sense in her. He had been watching his friend very closely in the last few days and wasn't really liking what he was seeing. Draco looked tired and miserable, something Morgan hated to see. But he knew he couldn't push the subject too much or else risk being shut out completely. The young man sighed, taking his place in the pews, he really hated how moody Draco could be.

The funeral hadn't gone too badly and now everyone was dragging themselves through the rest of the day. Only a small gathering of people had come for the wake, though there had been many for the service. Draco was standing by the refreshment table and looking around, casually wondering if any of these people were the reason they were here today. Gave a small smile and wave to Severus, standing over by the wall, who returned them with a nod. Draco had no doubt that Severus was thinking the exact same thing, and had probably only turned up to see if he could find any suspects.

Draco watched the older man for a few moments, truly grateful that he had been there the last few days. If you wanted something to be done with efficiency and precision while you were too emotionally wrecked, call for Severus. Draco had spent the day after his birthday, sitting in Severus' room, drinking his bourbon as the elder had arranged almost everything. Unfortunately, Narcissa had decided she could at least handle arranging the wake. Draco rubbed his neck and looked around at all the pale flowers and decorations. "Thank god he didn't come back as a ghost. Can you imagine his horror at this Hufflemark production?"

"What's Hufflemark?" Saria said as she absently stirred the punch.

"Well, there's this thing with the Muggles about Hallmark ... and then there are Hufflepuffs ... oh, never mind." Draco went back to looking around, absently sipping from the cup of punch Saria had pushed into his hand. His eyes fell on someone and he stood up straighter. "I'll be back." He brushed off Saria's questions and walked towards who he had spotted, catching Morgan's arm as he went passed, pulling him away from where he was having a conversation with someone Draco sort of recognized as a man from headquarters.

Morgan called his apologies back and then kept up with Draco of his own accord. "What?"

"Naida. We haven't talked to her yet." Draco walked around a few people then finally got to where he wanted to be. Naida was talking quietly with someone Draco didn't recognize but the blonde was in no mood for waiting. "Hello, thank you for coming, sorry to interrupt. Naida, can I have a word?" Then promptly grabbed her arm and did the same trick he used for Morgan.

"Honestly, boy, your manners get worse with every passing day." She was looking displeased but her tone was amused.

"We just wanted to ask you a few things about the night of my party."

"Ah, about your father and all. Well, I didn't see him much. Though he did excuse himself before most of the guests started to leave." She smiled, not wanting her next remark to be taken the wrong way. "You must have inherited your hospitality skills from him."

Draco gave a brief smile before his next question. "And you didn't see anything out of place."

"Well, no. But, then again, I wasn't really looking for anything. You don't go to a birthday party and expect to be consorting with a possible murderer. Well, actually, at a birthday party for you, I suppose even that's possible."

"Has anyone else asked you about that night?"

"If you're referring to your good for nothing husband and his gang of bandits, yes. They turned up yesterday, poking around my home and asking silly questions like 'And in what capacity did you know the deceased?"

Draco smiled, recognizing a good Hermione imitation when he heard it. "Yes, well, I'll tell them you were unimpressed, I have a couple of things I want to talk about with them, too."

"Sooner than you may think." Naida nodded her head to her right. "They just turned up."

Draco looked around to see Hermione, Harry and Thias, removing their outer cloaks and handing them to the doorman. "They were invited. Well, two of them were anyway."

"I never understood what you saw in that boy. Too quiet for my liking. I never trust anyone who is too quiet."

"Yeah, well, you weren't the one marrying him, so I guess that doesn't matter. Morgan, go stall them for a bit, make sure they don't just pay their respects to my mother and leave." He scowled. "There really are a few things I want to speak to them about." He gave a cheerful nod to Naida. "Thanks for coming, old woman."

Naida crossed her arms, glowering at him. "I'll have you know that most people would not consider me old. I was younger than your father, may the gods hold his soul."

"Yeah well, by next year you won't be able to say that." He smiled as he crossed his arms. "And I'll have you know that most people would not consider me 'Most People'."

"Don't I know it." Naida muttered grumpily as Draco began to head for where Morgan was hovering behind Hermione. "Oh and boy? Do be careful. It's a sick world we live in."

Draco gave a wave and walked quickly through the milling people. He arrived at Morgan's side and nodded his thanks. He smiled pleasantly. "Hermione, Harry," His tone simply moved to tolerant for the next name. "Thias. Good of you to come. A word, if you don't mind?"

Thias had begun to decline when Hermione slapped him in the back of the head. All five moved over to an empty table and took their places.

"How are you holding up?" Hermione asked gently.

"I'm fine. Now what I wanted to talk to you is, well,  about my father."

"Ko, I told you when you called yesterday. As soon as we know any of the who, what or how that killed him, we will tell you. We won't leave in the dark." Harry crossed his arms, clearly displeased that it didn't seem as if Draco believed him.

"No, no, no, not that. You see, I took the liberty to open his coffin before it was moved from the hall to the graveyard …"

Hermione leant forward, interrupting him with a hiss. "That was sealed! No one was supposed to open it."

"Yes, I know. That's why I did it. You aroused my curiosity." Draco gave a plainly fake smile and rested his hands on the table. "Now, what I want to know is … Why was there a number 9 cut into his forehead?"

Morgan's eyes widened as Hermione looked to the table top, appearing very guilty.

To Be Continued.