Chapter 4

Pumpkin Juice

He left a card, a bar of soap and a scrubbing brush

Next to a note that said, "Use these down to your bones."
And before I knew, I had shiny skin and it felt easy being clean like him.
I thought, "This one knows better than I do."

Missy Higgins "Scar"

"Look, Ginny." Her father's highly irritated tone came down the line loudly, causing Ginny to wince and hold the phone away from her ear. "I can't help it if you don't like the man! I don't like him either! In fact, I can't think of a single person alive who does! But what can I do? I haven't got any time to go chasing around alternate accommodation for him--"

"--Okay," Ginny interrupted. "I--"

"--It's not like I can just afford to attend to the whims of my only daughter! I've got the clearing up of a war that was decades in the making to oversee and you're whinging because you don't like your housemate! Things aren't like your fantasies in the real world, Ginny. Grow up and open your eyes! You could be sharing a house with worse people than Draco Malfoy! In fact--"

"--Okay, Dad, I get it; I'm sorry--"

"--Well, you ought to be sorry, Ginny, you should know better than to ring up first thing in the morning and expect me to be congenial and chirpy when your mother is doing it tough and we don't have anyone here to help us--"

"--Stop it!" Ginny exclaimed. "I'm sorry, okay? I was just a bit upset. I thought that you of all people would understand that, Dad!"

There was a brief silence at the other end of the phone before her father sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Gin, I've been under a lot of stress lately. I pulled as many strings as I could to try and get Malfoy in somewhere else but the truth of the matter is that there's just nowhere else for him to go." He paused. "I had him fully checked out; he hasn't done a single thing wrong since school. He left home at seventeen and went into a job as a potions assistant and has kept a very low profile since, seemingly without contact with his father. So there's really no reason for you to worry."

Ginny bit her lip as she glanced out the window at the steadily rising sun. "Are you trying to convince me or you?"

Her father laughed. "Both, I think." She heard the tired smile in his voice. "Ginny, I'm sorry; I'm going to have to go. I'm already late for an appointment with Amelia and Merlin knows if I don't get these dishes started your mother will have my head."

Ginny smiled. "Okay, Dad. I'll talk to you later." She unwound the phone cord from around her fingers slowly. "Thanks."

"That's alright," he said. "'Bye."

"'Bye," Ginny said softly, hanging up the phone and arranging the cord so it fell down the side of her nightstand neatly. She got up off her bed and went out into the hallway, meaning to go to the kitchen to find some breakfast before she had to leave for work.

The sun poured in from the window at the top of the stairs, drenching the floor in the light. Her feet were warm against the polished wood and she relished the sensation, following the patch of sunlight to the kitchen door where it stopped abruptly. She looked up to see Draco at one of the table and Lavender at the other.

"Of course, the summer fashions from Emmaline Rauteri weren't half as nice as those from Candice Louberry's, which was really surprising, I felt. Emmaline's usually has such a nice range of dress robes in the chartreuse shades. So what was I to do, really?" Lavender reached across the table for a water cracker.

"Mm," Draco responded.

"You're right, it was a total fiasco," Lavender agreed. She chewed her cracker thoughtfully, frowning. "I wish I could eat normal foods already."

Ginny decided that was her cue to enter. "Give it another day yet, Lav," she smiled at the girl before walking over to the bench, casting around for the loaf of bread she knew had to be sitting somewhere. Scanning the bench top, she discovered a wooden box marked 'Bread Box' and opened it, finding three loaves inside.

"Morning, Ginny!" Lavender greeted her happily, still in her pyjamas. Draco was sitting opposite her, eating something from a bowl.

"Good morning, Lav," Ginny responded. She cast a glance at the blonde haired man, trying to decide whether or not to acknowledge him. "Malfoy."

"Weasley," he mumbled, seemingly concentrating on eating. She rolled her eyes before turning to the toaster.

"Off to work?" Lavender asked. "Susan's already gone."

"Yeah," Ginny said, tossing two slices of wholemeal bread into the toaster and pressing the button down. "Nine 'til five today."

Draco turned his head slightly to look at her. "Where do you work?" he asked, with his mouth still full.

Ginny arched her eyebrow slightly, giving him a suspicious glance. "British Division of Investigation."

He snorted and didn't respond. Ginny decided to ignore him.

"Are you feeling better today, Lav?" she asked.

"Yes," Lavender said. "A bit. I'm not up to working yet, though. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after. I still feel really tired... and I think I pulled every muscle in my body from retching over the sink for three days straight."

"Lovely," Draco said. He stood up and put his plate on the sink. "I trust you'll wash that up, Weasley," he said, before leaving the room. Ginny looked open-mouthed at the plate then at the empty doorway, her eyebrows peaking at her hairline.

"Scumbag!" she said finally.

Lavender shrugged. "He's male," she said knowingly. "And Slytherin," she added, as an afterthought. "You've got to make exceptions for those."

"I am not going to be the kitchen maid," Ginny said haughtily, taking her freshly toasted breakfast out of the toaster and putting it on a plate. She leaned over the table and grabbed the jam, spreading liberal amounts of it over the toast. "I am not anyone's kitchen wench."

"Mmm," Lavender agreed absently. "Don't worry about it, Gin. He's just not used to us yet." She yawned before winking conspiratorially at Ginny. "I'm going back to bed. Feel free to remind Draco that he can dote on me all day long if he wants."

Ginny gave Lavender a surprised look. Fair enough if Lavender had decided that Draco wasn't an evil Slytherin anymore and wanted to give him a chance; Ginny herself had decided to give him a chance but that she didn't mean she was going to throw herself at him! Then again, Lavender had always been a bit fickle like that. Who could forget the times she'd said that Hufflepuffs weren't worth looking at and then ended up going with Zacharias Smith to her sixth year ball? Still, she supposed she shouldn't be so quick to judge Lavender. Not many people knew what she'd had to endure in the war and Ginny couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose a husband.

A condescending voice drawled from the hallway as Draco made his way past the kitchen toward the back of the house. "Won't be necessary."

Lavender laughed. "See? Slytherin men. Don't know a good thing when they see it." She stretched. "I'll see you later. You cooking tonight?"

"Yeah," Ginny replied. She'd forgotten about that. Lavender swished past, bathrobe trailing on the floor as she headed out the door. Ginny sat down at the table and reached for the juice, wondering absently what she could cook. Chicken casserole, perhaps. She frowned and closed her eyes, trying to picture the contents of the freezer without actually having to get up to have a look and see what was in there. She was sure she'd stashed some frozen chicken pieces in there somewhere. She took a large mouthful from her cup, opening her eyes and swallowing as someone brushed past her.

"Pumpkin juice a bit of a luxury for you, Weasley?" Draco was squatting down in front of the cupboard below the sink, foraging around in it.

"What?" Ginny asked blankly. She raised her cup to her lips again, eyeing him suspiciously.

He turned to face her. "Pumpkin juice," he repeated. "One of the more expensive brands, courtesy of moi. I dare suspect you don't get that at home, judging from the look of happiness of your face as you drink it." He twisted back around and leaned further into the cupboard. "Lord, where are the gloves?"

Ginny spat her mouthful of pumpkin juice back into her cup, picking up the juice container and pouring the contents of her cup back into the bottle. She picked up her remaining piece of toast and stood up, scraping her chair back noisily. Draco threw her a brief glance.

"The gloves?" he asked expectantly.

"I don't know," Ginny responded pleasantly. She took a bite out of her toast and smiled sweetly. "Your face is turning red; perhaps they're up your arse?" She turned away from him and stalked out of the kitchen.

Ginny knocked at Dave's door and waited for him to consent to her opening the door. There was no response. Eyebrows raised, she lifted her fist to knock again. The door was flung open and Dave stood in the doorway, beaming at her.

"Gin!" he said jovially. "Come on in! Pull up a pew."

Ginny smiled and followed him into the office, closing the door behind her. She took a seat in front of his desk, glancing around at the now-familiar objects. The sports banners on the walls, the newspaper cuttings about Jenkins, the photos of his family amidst the clutter on his desk and a strange, flat bat leaning against a wall accompanied by three long sticks and a white ball. She smiled at the paperweight; a snow-globe of a giant orange rock somewhere in Australia. When asked, he'd told her it was called Uluru and that it never snowed there.

"How's it all going?" Dave asked her as he settled into his chair.

"How's what going?" Ginny wrinkled her brow in confusion. "The case?"

"No," Dave responded, winking at her. "It. I meant everything in general." At her blank look, he laughed. "How are you, Ginny?"

"Oh!" she replied, feeling oddly embarrassed. "Um... I'm alright," she said carefully. "How are you?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm alright too," Dave responded breezily, settling his elbows on his desk. "How're all the housemates at home?"

"Pretty good." She folded her hands on her lap. "Lavender is still a bit sick but it's clearing up. Thankfully none of us have caught it."

"You mean you and Susan?" Dave asked.

"And Draco," Ginny said. She leaned down and reached into her bag, drawing out the fresh green apple she'd put in there. She started polishing it with her sleeve.

"Draco?" Dave questioned. "Who?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Lord, don't even ask."

"Right you are, then," Dave said amiably. "What's the plan for lunch, chum?"

Ginny regarded him and then looked down at her apple. "Uh... food?" She bit into it, squirting the juice down her chin. She ran her finger across it quickly, stopping the trickling.

"Good plan!" Dave laughed. "But I was wondering--"

"David!" a voice hollered from outside the door. The door was pushed open and the American woman from the elevator poked her head around. "Oh, you are in here. Good," she said, coming in and plonking herself in the chair next to Ginny's. "I thought I saw Miss Weasel come in and thought I'd take a chance that you were in here too."

"Weasley," Ginny corrected her.

"I know, dear," Kristy responded, looking at Dave. "I never forget a name."

"Why on earth," Dave asked, "would you expect Ginny to be here when I wasn't?"

"I don't know," Kristy replied lightly. "Why would she be?"

Dave rolled his eyes before winking at Ginny. "She thinks you're up to something, Gin."

"Me?" Kristy protested. "Never!"

"Yeah?" Dave replied. "What's with the 'weasel' thing then? Huh?"

"Slip of the tongue," Kristy told him innocently. Ginny forced herself not to roll her eyes. Kristy smiled brightly at Ginny. "Where did you say you were from, Ginny?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow before racking her brain quickly. "Penzance."

"Oh, that's right!" Kristy said cheerfully. "Yes, I was talking to an old friend who lives there, Ginny, and she's never heard of you."

Ginny shrugged. "Not a tiny place." Is it? She wondered.

"Not all that big, either," the other woman said. "As they say, it's a small world."

"I always wondered who 'they' were," Dave pondered aloud. "Any clues, Gin?"

Ginny smiled at him, grateful for the reprieve. "The proverbial people, of course, Dave."

"Yes, David," Kristy said. "They're just them. There's no question of who they are."

"Yes, there is!" Dave protested. "I asked! That's a question, ain't it?"

Kristy sighed and rolled her eyes. "Really, David."

"Would you lighten up?" Dave asked her, grinning. "And quit calling me David!"

"Why?" Kristy replied. She leant back in her chair and drew a stick of gum out of her pocket, unwrapping it quickly and placing it into her mouth. She looked behind her chair and tossed the wrapper in the direction of the bin, missing it by half a metre.

"Is that why you're not on the American baseball team, Kristy?" Dave teased her. "Can't throw to save your life!" He laughed. Kristy made rude gestures at him. "And you should quit calling me David because only my mother calls me that when she's mad at me. Besides, I don't call you Kristina."

"True," Kristy conceded. "But then again, my name isn't Kristina."

"Isn't it?" Dave leaned back and put his arms up behind his head, eyes twinkling merrily as he contemplated the new information. "What is it then?"

"I'm not telling," Kristy said, a crimson colour rising in her cheeks. Dave saw this and pounced on it.

"Krista? Kristen? Chrysanthemum!" he suggested. At the shake of her head, he laughed. "No? No outrageously hippie parents for you? What is it then?"

Kristy looked at Ginny for a long moment before turning her attention back to Dave. "Krystal, actually."

"Spelt with a 'K'?" Ginny asked. At Kristy's nod, she stifled a groan. She'd always hated that spelling. She hated any word that replaced a C with a K.

"Krystal," Dave repeated thoughtfully. "Well then, Krystal, from now on, if you call me David, I'll call you Krystal. Fair?" He stuck out his hand.

Kristy shook it. "Fair," she agreed.

"Beauty," Dave replied. "And now get out; me and Ginny have got some work to do."

Kristy stood up, smiling graciously. "Alright then, Bryson, keep your shirt on."

"It's on!" Dave replied cheekily. "Buttoned, too!"

"Too bad for me," Kristy replied, blowing him a kiss. She looked down at Ginny. "Miss Weasley." She swept out of the room, banging the door shut behind her. Ginny expelled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Cor, she's a bit full-on today," Dave said ruefully. He smiled at Ginny. "Don't like her much, do you?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Am I that transparent?"

Dave laughed. "Well, you were a bit quiet, so I just assumed." He yawned and stretched. "You done with your apple?"

"Yeah," Ginny said, looking down at the core. Dave held out a hand. She looked at it quizzically. "What?"

"Give me the core," Dave said.

"What?" Ginny said again. "No! What are you going to do, eat it?"

"No," Dave said, bemused. "Just give it here."

Dubiously, she passed it over. Dave held it by the stem before throwing it out of the open window. He stuck his head out and watched it fall.

"A bit further, a bit further... come on, little man... just a bit further..."

"What on earth...?" Ginny asked, moving up behind him and looking down at the falling apple. It smashed onto the tin roof, spraying tiny bits of apple everywhere. Muffled shouting was heard from below. Dave cackled and returned to his chair. Ginny turned to face him, the question on her face. He laughed.

"The girl in the office next to that roof turned me down once," he said. "Now I get her back every chance I get."

Ginny's mouth fell open. "You're kidding," she said.

"Yes," Dave said. "I am. It just pisses the people off in that office. Anyway, I want to tell you about the leads I got on the Jenkins case!"

Ginny returned to her seat. "Leads?"

"Yeah, a few champion ones," Dave responded. "Got yet another autopsy performed on the guy; they're all in agreement that there was no logical reason for Jenkins to have died."

Ginny frowned. "What?"

"Well, what I mean is, he wasn't sick." Dave picked up a pencil and played with it idly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Like, he didn't have cancer and he didn't have a blood disease. There were no problems with his heart or lungs. His brain was fine. All his organs were fine. Everything is intact. Well, was; now that they've sliced him open three or four times he's not so intact. But do you know what I'm saying, Ginny?" He looked at her directly.

"I think so," Ginny responded, feeling a faint flutter in her stomach. "Though I'm not so sure I've come to the same conclusion you have." She didn't know quite what to think. It certainly sounded as if this Jenkins had been killed with an Unforgivable Curse, but she couldn't tell him that, could she? She'd have to try to distract him, throw him off the scent; find a reasonable explanation for his death that would sate Dave's appetite for the unknown.

"It's almost other-worldly, isn't it?" Dave asked. He pressed a button on his key ring and the lights on his car flashed as the alarm beeped. Ginny opened her door and got into the car, pulling on her seatbelt as Dave slid into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition. "Like, I just can't figure it out. It's like SIDS or something."

"Sids?" Ginny repeated, her head slamming back against the headrest as Dave accelerated out of the car park. They headed down the hill, her stomach taking a dive as he drove even faster.

"Sudden Infant Death Syndrome," Dave replied, indicating to turn left. He braked quickly and swung around the corner, speeding up again. He gave her a curious glance. "You know, where babies die suddenly in their cots for no apparent reason at all."

"Oh," Ginny replied. She vaguely remembered hearing about it before. "Yes..." She put a hand to her forehead, blinking in the bright sunlight. Her stomach still hadn't recovered from speeding down the hill and now she was starting to feel dizzy.

"It's like that, isn't it?" Dave pressed. "It's just so crazy, Gin, I can't get my head around it. It's the sort of thing that keeps you awake at night, thinking about it and trying to figure it out."

"Yeah," Ginny agreed. "Bizarre." She massaged her temples, closing her eyes.

"Very bizarre!" Dave noted. He looked over at her briefly, swinging the wheel around another corner. "You don't look so good, you feeling okay?"

Ginny considered lying, and decided against it. "No, actually, I don't feel so great at all," she confessed.

Dave looked concerned. "Is it going to pass, or do you feel really crook?"

Ginny could feel the waves of nausea growing inside her. She swallowed heavily and opened her eyes, squinting in the light. She closed them again, the sweat beads beginning to appear on her forehead. "I think you should stop the car."

Dave braked suddenly, pulling to the side of the road with a screech. The sudden stop of motion made Ginny feel even dizzier, and she pitched forward, slamming back against her seat with a soft groan. Dave got out of the car and rushed around to her door, opening it and squatting down beside her. He took her hand.

"Come out here in the fresh air," he said, pulling on her hand gently. She turned her head slowly to look up at him. His face creased with worry. "Come on, Gin."

Ginny slowly swung her legs out of the car and stood up shakily, leaning on Dave for support. Once upright, she felt worse than before and bent her legs, lowering herself to the ground. She stared down at the dirt by the road, taking laboured breaths, her stomach heaving. She moaned softly as another wave of nausea hit and rocked her.

"Ginny," Dave said softly. He was kneeling behind her, holding her up. "More deep breaths, that's it."

Ginny's whole body tensed as her stomach lurched violently. She just knew she was going to throw up and she desperately didn't want to do it in front of Dave. She turned away from him, reaching towards the bushes at the side of the road.

"Ginny..." Dave said from behind her. "Careful, now..."

There was the sound of liquid raining on grass as Ginny's breakfast participated in an emergency evacuation. She could feel Dave's hands on her waist, holding her up as she retched. She felt horrible. Lavender's bug had finally caught up with her at last. She groaned and tried to sit back on her heels.

"No," Dave said gently. "Keep forward for a bit longer."

Ginny moaned softly. "I'm sorry," she tried to say. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," he replied, his arms encircling her waist and taking all of her weight. "Just relax, Gin; that's it. Are you feeling better now that's done?"

"Yes," she whispered feebly. She licked her lips, grimacing at the taste. That'd teach her to drink pumpkin juice.

"Okay," Dave said after a moment. "I'm going to take you home. Do you feel up to the car trip?" Ginny nodded. "Alright. Let's get you into the car."

"WAIT!" Ginny said forcibly. The bobbing motion of being carried up the front walk was too much. She didn't even know why he was bothering to carry her in; it wasn't as if she had injured herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it was comforting. "Feel sick," she whimpered, closing her eyes. Dave set her down on the path. "Yuck," Ginny whispered, leaning over the garden bed and feeling the now-familiar nausea rising up in her again. "Not again."

"I'm going to let you go, Ginny," Dave said. His grip on her waist slackened. "Okay?"

"Okay," she replied. His hands left her body and she sank to the ground. He was kneeling beside her in a flash, his eyes shining with concern.

"Alright?" he asked quickly.

"Fine," she replied softly, trying her best not to throw up again.

"I'll be right back," he promised before getting to his feet and dashing up the path to the front door. Ginny could hear him hammering on the door and it opening slowly.

Moments later, Dave returned. "Still feeling like you're going to be crook?" She nodded. "I'm going to carry you in, okay?

There was a snort from the porch. Ginny tried to turn her head to see who it was.

"Okay?" Dave pressed. At Ginny's nod, he took around the waist again. "Spit," he instructed. Ginny obeyed. "Good. Okay, up we go!" Ginny's stomach heaved as she fought the nausea.

"Quick," she said quietly as he rushed her up the walk. Her headache was returning worse than before. She caught sight of Draco standing next to the door, looking faintly bemused. "What?" she muttered.

"Feeling a bit out of sorts, Weasley?" he drawled.

"Could you move out of the way, please?" Dave requested. Draco was obstructing his path. He moved aside slowly. "Thanks," Dave said. "This room, Ginny?" He indicated her bedroom.

"Yes," she said. Dave carried her into the room and placed her gently on the bed. Draco materialised behind him with a plastic bucket. Ginny felt too sick to even be surprised. She curled up in a ball on the bed, concentrating on the feeling in her stomach and trying to ignore it at the same time.

"What should we do?" Draco asked Dave.

"Get her some water," Ginny heard Dave reply. "I'll stay here awhile."

Draco was silent for a moment. "Okay," he eventually replied and then left the room. Dave sat down next to Ginny's still form and massaged her back gently. Ginny appreciated what he was trying to do but the movement made her feel a hundred times worse. She tried to protest but the words stopped at her lips before they were formed. He mistook her protest for satisfaction.

"Won't be long now, Gin," he said encouragingly. "Then you can have some water and try to sit up for awhile."

Ginny heard Draco reenter. A glass of water appeared at her lips. She lifted her head to take in a few drops before lying back down, feeling even worse. She closed her eyes, her mouth slightly open and resting against the cotton pillowcase. Her mouth felt dry. She could feel Dave sitting next to her, making the bed dip slightly toward him. The fight to keep to her side of the bed was taxing her. She tensed up, feeling dangerously close to being sick again.

"I'll stay here," Dave was telling Draco again.

"You don't need to," Draco replied. "I can look after her."

"Yeah," Dave said after a moment. "But I'll stay anyway."

The voices grew fainter and fainter as Ginny drifted off into a dreamless, head-achy sleep.