You know... I actually have like, up to Chapter 11 completely written. However, I still don't have everything plotted out. Well, I know how I want everything to go, it's just a matter of writing it in outline form (you know, getting it out of my brain and on the paper), and then writing it ;) But yeah, I've been working on this story for like, two months (you should see the original plot... WAY different!), and then wrote a lot before I began to post. I have a bad habit of starting a story, and then neglecting it for a week or two, and I didn't want to leave everyone chapterless due to my procrastination! ...that was a lot of rambling for no reason. ANYWAY.
Just to let you all know... Thist story WILL be like, at least twenty chapters... but due to a persistent friend of mine, I might be writing a Ron!Hermy story. Any opinions on that? (would any of you read it?) Speaking of my persistent friend... If I ever write a chapter that you all hate, blame my reviewer known as "hatcher" (or any variations thereof) because she reviews all of my chapters before I show them to the public! :) She knows everything that's going to happen, haha. Why am I still rambling? AGH. I got carried away!
And to M'Lady - there will be lots of Draco from now on, I can promise you that! And to any Ron!Hermy fans, they'll be coming up again. It won't be for a while, but they're not gone for good.
Thanks to Hatch and Green-Eyed-Serpent for reviewing! :) Now I silence myself and present you with chapter 4.
Chapter 4
And you know how much I need you
But you never even see me
Harry Potter ambled through the Ministry of Magic, trying to eat his pumpkin pasty as quickly as possible. He had received an urgent letter that morning by Arthur Weasley, the current Minister of Magic, requesting Harry's presence at the Auror Headquarters. Mr. Weasley hadn't said what it was about, which left Harry considering the worst. Were there more Death Eaters that have begun to resurface? Or worse, had someone close to him died? Harry knew he was jumping to conclusions, but it was almost impossible not to considering half of those he held dearest to him had been killed. Before Harry could reach the doors to the Auror Headquarters, he ran smack into a solid object and fell backwards, dropping his parchment all over the floor.
"Shit, sorry," said Harry without looking up. He quickly tried to shove his parchment back in their folder, shielding them from any onlookers.
"Harry!"exclaimed the other voice. Harry recognized it before he even saw the face.
"Hi, Mr. Weasley," Harry said sheepishly, clutching his folder to his side and standing. He then quickly apologized for cursing. Mr. Weasley just smiled and shook Harry's hand before pulling him into a tight hug. It reminded him a lot of the hug he had received from Hermione only two days earlier–basically, he couldn't breathe.
"Nice to see you," Harry said in a muffled voice, finding his face squashed into Mr. Weasley's left shoulder. Mr. Weasley released him and smiled even brighter.
"How have you been? And Harry, I thought I told you to call me Arthur," he said. Harry grinned and sighed. He had been told dozens of times to call Mr. Weasley by his first name, but it was something Harry would never get used to.
"I've been fine, thanks. Just busy. How are you?"
"Oh, you know how it goes! Well, actually, I suppose you wouldn't since you haven't been seen around these parts in weeks!" Mr. Weasley said with a jovial laugh. Harry laughed too, although he wasn't sure what exactly was so funny. Either way, he was pleased to see Mr. Weasley back to his old self. He had been a wreck after the war, due to the loss of his son Percy. Harry cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows.
"I received your owl this morning. What's up?" Harry asked, feeling his stomach tense with anxiety. Mr. Weasley shrugged.
"We had been notified that someone was coming to see you, and they refused to speak to anyone else. There wasn't any mention as to what exactly, but the letter said that you'd want to see them," Mr. Weasley explained. Harry ran this through his mind a few times before Mr. Weasley continued, lowering his voice a bit. "You know, I saw the Malfoy lad come through here." Harry perked his eyebrows up again.
"Really?" he asked.
"I think he may have been the one who sent the owl, although I'm not really sure why you'd want to see him," Mr. Weasley replied. He raised his voice back to its normal volume. "But anyway, I'll let you get back to work. Be sure to stop by my office sometime! Don't be a stranger!"
"Sure, Mr. Weasley," Harry said.
"Arthur, Harry!" Mr. Weasley corrected, before clapping Harry on the back.
"Right. Arthur." Mr. Weasley smiled once more before walking back down the corridor, whistling to himself. Glancing down at the folder in his right hand, Harry took a deep breath before opening the door to the Auror Headquarters. He wasn't surprised to see a cloaked figure with silver-blonde hair standing in front of him, his back to Harry. Harry closed the door, causing Draco to turn around quickly.
"Potter," Draco said instantly.
"Hello, Malfoy," Harry replied, acting entirely nonchalant. He held out his hand to Draco, which Draco took and shook quickly in a businesslike manner. Harry walked past Draco, heading toward his office. Without looking over his shoulder, he said, "This way." The two of them walked down a short hallway. One of the doors was slightly ajar, and Harry saw the pale figure of Tonks. Today, her hair was a cornflower blue and just past her ears. Harry tapped on the door as they passed, saying, "Morning, Tonks," as she returned a greeting. They finally reached a plain, wooden door at the end of the hall. Harry softly muttered a phrase, and the door swung open. The two of them walked inside as Harry shut the door behind them. They were now standing in a very boring office, one that was personalized only with a few pictures which were hung sparsely throughout the room. It was obvious that Harry spent very little time here.
"I wasn't expecting to see you this soon," Harry said, placing his folder onto his desk. Draco shrugged.
"Can't say I was planning on it, either," he replied. Harry waved his wand behind Draco, conjuring a squishy armchair.
"Have a seat," Harry said, stepping behind his desk to his own chair and sitting.
"I'd rather not," Draco said flatly. To this, Harry blinked and then stood from his chair.
"All right. We'll stand," he said, walking back around the desk. He waved his wand at the chair again, causing it to disappear.
"We? I didn't know it was a group effort, Potter. Sit if you like, I really could care less." Harry narrowed his eyes slightly.
"An Auror must always be at eye-level with his opponent–or higher," Harry said almost robotically. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Am I your opponent? I vaguely recall someone telling me a few days ago that we should forget about petty grudges from school," Draco commented.
"It's just what I was taught," Harry said matter-of-factly. "Anyway, you needed to see me?" Draco didn't reply, but simply took off his cloak and draped it over his arm. He wore a white buttoned shirt and black pants, resembling his Hogwarts' uniform. Harry would have almost believed that they were back in school, except that something was very different about Draco. He seemed older–and obviously, he was–but he seemed . . . tired. He had the appearance of someone who wanted nothing more than to never see a human face again. Harry cleared his throat. Draco continued to stay silent, and walked leisurely around the room, glancing at the modest surroundings. He stopped in front of one picture that hung right across from Harry's desk, to the right of the door. Draco slung his cloak over his shoulder, tilting his head to the side slightly as he continued to stare at the picture ahead of him.
"Your parents?" Draco asked, glancing at Harry. Harry nodded. The picture was of James and Lily Potter during their seventh year of school. The two were standing in Hogsmeade, right outside Honeydukes. They smiled and waved at Draco, stealing small glances at each other, then blushing. Draco snorted softly. "They're cute, Potter," he said, before strolling back to Harry. Harry sniffed quietly. He had his eyes on the floor. "Ever think of making this place a little more homey? It wouldn't hurt to conjure up a few more armchairs." Harry looked up at Draco and shrugged.
"You wanted to stand anyway," he said quietly. "I'm not here enough to concern myself with decorating."
"Fair enough," said Draco in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. The awkward silence began again. Harry found himself having difficulty speaking. He tugged slightly at the collar of his shirt, wondering when the hell his office had become so hot.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly. It came out sounding much harsher than he had meant it. Draco raised an eyebrow and took a small step closer to Harry. Harry then took a step back.
"Settle down, Potter," Draco said again, his voice growing slightly husky. "I'm not here to cause trouble."
"Then what are you here for? I have things to do. I'm sure you didn't visit so you could gawk at my pictures," Harry said. As Draco suddenly had become calm and approaching, Harry was becoming tense and impatient.
"I just wanted to tell you that you were wrong," Draco said, taking more steps toward Harry. As Harry stepped backwards, he soon found himself against a wall. Draco was only inches from him now.
"Wrong about what?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper. In this situation, he should have pushed Draco back, forcing him to keep a safe distance, but Harry wasn't sure what he would do if he were to touch Draco just now. Draco sensed the tenseness and smirked to himself. He then stepped back. Harry let out a breath as if he had been unable to breathe since the moment Draco had come back over to him.
"I could probably help you with your case. That is, if you're still working on it," Draco said. Harry hesitated before answering.
"What do you mean?" he asked. Draco looked behind him, then turned his eyes back to Harry.
"I could really do with one of those armchairs now," he said. Harry impatiently waved his wand, allowing a chair to appear.
"What do you mean, Malfoy?" Harry asked, now taking his opportunity to push Draco against a wall–figuratively speaking. Draco sat casually into the chair, crossing his right ankle over his left knee.
"Maybe you were right though. You did dismiss very quickly that I might be able to help you with the case when we met at the Leaky Cauldron," Draco said, tapping his chin thoughtfully.
"Cut the shit, Malfoy!" Harry shouted.
"That's no way to get what you want," Draco replied, his tone matching his lounging stance. Harry ran a shaky hand through his hair. He could feel his face burning, and he was automatically angry with himself. After all these years, he still let Draco get to him. Harry hung his arms at his side and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.
"Look, this case is very important to me. I'd appreciate any help you're willing to give," Harry said slowly, carefully choosing his words. Draco seemed to consider this.
"All right, Potter. That is what I came here for," Draco said, sitting up straight in his chair. "I know about the Death Eater. And I can tell you who killed him."
R/R :)
