Thanks very much for all the encouragement! I really appreciate it. Enjoy Chapter 2!

Draco Malfoy took a long drag of his cigarette, held the smoke, and then exhaled. He surveyed his club from where he sat through the cigarette's fog. A piano tinkled under the skilled hands of its player, Ginny Weasley. Her full, vibrant voice sang some song or another as the band accompanied her and her keys.

It had to be you.
It had to be you.
I wandered around,
And finally found,
Somebody who

Draco looked back down at the chessboard and surveyed the game he had designed for himself. He was playing by himself, mind you. He frowned at the black bishop and moved the white queen out of harm's way.

"How's the game?" asked his chief waitress, Millicent. It was a continuing wonder how all his classmates ended up in Casablanca. But after the invasion and conquer, it seemed everyone wanted to go to America.

"I think I'm winning," he said.

Millicent gave him a small smile. "By the way, Draco, I just got this check. Is it okay?"

Could make me be true,
And make me be blue.
Or even be glad,
Just to be sad thinking of you

Draco looked at it, took a small black pen and scribbled, "O.K.- Draco."

"Thanks," she said. "And good luck with that game. Oh, and if I were you, watch out for that knight. He has the black king in check."

Draco glanced at the board and removed the prescribed piece out of the way of the knight.

For nobody else
Gave me the thrill.
With all of your faults,
I love you still.
It had to be you,
Wonderful you.
It had to be you.

With the last clink of the piano keys, the audience burst into applause. Draco looked up and saw Ginny give him a wink. Draco exhaled and looked over at the rest of the bar. 'You can wink all you want, honey. You can play songs like that, but that won't come back,' he thought to himself. He had met Ginny in France before the invasion of Paris. She had been a friend then, just a girl who played sad love songs in a Parisian café, but she had come with him to Marseilles, and in Oran they had one hell of a night. But they discussed it when they came to Casablanca. That was a mistake and over, and it wouldn't happen again. Their relationship was strictly professional. But that didn't stop her from giving him a wink every now and then.

Staring at his chessboard, he smelled strange tobacco smoke mingling with his own. He looked up and saw a man standing before him. The man was small, and had a nervous air about him; he smiled at Draco.

"Longbottom," said Draco, lighting another cigarette with the butt of his last.

"Hello, Draco. May I sit down?" said Neville, flicking the ash of his cigarette into the ashtray. Draco gave a nod. "You know, Draco, they way you run this place makes me think that you have been doing this since you got out of Hogwarts."

"And what makes you think that I haven't?" said Draco.

Neville laughed nervously, "What right do I have to think? What do you think about those two Death Eaters? Poor devils."

"I'd say they are lucky," said Draco. "Yesterday they were two butt-kissing footstools to You-Know-Who; now they are the Brothers in Arms."

"You're a very cynical person, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I don't mind," said Draco quickly.

Millicent came to the table and placed a brandy in front of Neville. "Oh, Draco, will you drink with me?"

"No."

"Yes," he said. "I forgot. You never drink with customers. Millicent, I'll have another." Millicent nodded and went to fetch another drink. "You hate me, don't you, Draco?"

Draco's face remained emotionless. "If I gave you any thought I probably would."

"Because of my business, right? Think of all those poor witches and wizards that can't get out of Casablanca, though, if I didn't help them."

"For a price," said Draco. "Always for a price."

"But think of everyone who can't meet Zambini's price? I get it for them. Is that so bad?" Neville sighed. "Well, tonight I am out of the business. I'm leaving Casablanca."

"Who did you bribe- yourself or Zambini?"

"Myself. I am much more reasonable." Neville took and envelope from out of his inside jacket pocket and laid it on the table. "Do you know what this is? This is two letters of transit signed by You-Know-Who himself. They cannot be refused passage, or even questioned. Tonight I'll sell them for more money than I've ever dreamed of. But, Rick, you, since you hate me so, are the only one that I trust in Casablanca. Will you hold these for me?"

Draco raised his eyebrow. "For how long? I don't want them here overnight."

"No, never," he said. "Just for a few hours." Draco took the letters and stuck them into his pocket. "Thank you, Draco. I knew I could trust you. Now if you don't mind, I think I'll share my victory at Merlin's roulette wheel. I hope you are a bit more impressed with me now."

"Wait just a second," said Draco. "Those two Death Eaters were carrying letters of transit."

"Oh," said Neville. "I heard that rumor. Poor devils."

Draco smirked disgustedly at him. "You're right, Longbottom. I am a little more impressed with you."

With that, Draco spun on his heel and began walking to Ginny who had started up a new lively song.

I'm nobody's baby,
I wonder why.
Every night and day
I pray to the Lord above.
Please send me down somebody to love.

Draco stood at the back of her vibrating piano and watched her play with a small smile on his face. As soon as the spot lights swung from her to the audience, he took Neville's envelope, cracked the top of the piano and shoved the letters in there. He took a last look at Ginny before looking at the crowd. He spotted her brother, Bill Weasley, owner of the Silver Coin, at a table with his latest conquest. Ginny's song finished majestically as Draco walked over to Bill's table.

"Hello, Draco," said Billy.

"Weasley," he said, his face clear of expression. "How's business at the Silver Coin?"

"Fine," he said, "but I would like to buy your club."

"It isn't for sale at any price."

"Then what about Ginny?" said Bill.

"What about her?"

"How much for her?"

"She's your own bleeding sister! You actually want to make a profit off of her? Anyway, I don't buy or sell humans."

"Too bad- it's Casablanca's leading business. I really wish you would work with me in the black market. We could make a fortune."

Draco stood up, having enough of the conversation. "Suppose you let me run my business and you can run yours."

"Suppose we ask Ginny," said Bill. "She may want to work with her big brother."

"Suppose we do." Bill stood up and began to walk with Draco to Ginny's piano, who was playing a solemn, instrumental, giving her voice a break. Ginny looked over her shoulder and smiled at the approaching men.

"Ginny," said Draco, leaning on the upright piano. "Bill wants you to go work with him at the Silver Coin."

"Billy," she said calmly, playing her piece perfectly. "You've asked me already and I gave you an answer. My answer is still the same. I like it just fine right here."

"He can pay you double what I pay you," said Draco.

"That's alright," she laughed. "I don't have the time to spend all the money I make anyway."

Draco looked up at Bill. "Sorry," he said. Bill nodded and walked back to the table where his beautiful date waited for him. Diamonds glittered on her hands and neck- it was no mystery where she got them. The Silver Coin was the most successful bar and nightclub in Casablanca, besides his own, of course. Not to mention, Bill makes much of his fortune through the black market- selling slaves, obtaining visas, brothels, the works. You name an illegal activity, and you can bet Bill Weasley has a hand in it as long as it has money involved.

It's still a mystery to many where he got the golden itch from. Some say that working at Gringot's got to him and he had to have what he saw every day- money. Others say that because his family was poor, he vowed never to do the same. But most agree that it is his business, like much of what goes on in Casablanca.

Draco walked over to the bar to check the stocks, where he saw Terry Boot, his barkeep, mooning over a pretty woman who was obviously drunk.

"This is from the boss's private stash," said Terry, sliding her a brandy. "It's because, Pansy, I love you."

Pansy looked into the glass morosely, and then downed it. "Oh, shut up," she said.

"Alright, alright," he said. "For you, I shut up. Because, Pansy, I love you."

Draco walked up to the bar and leaned on it by Pansy. He could feel her eyes on him, but he did not look at her once.

"Monsieur Draco," said Terry. "Some Germans, they gave me this check, is it alright?"

Draco looked briefly at the check, and then ripped it in two. Pansy's eyes were still fixed upon him, but he didn't meet her gaze once. Draco picked up a black pencil and wrote a small note to the Germans about the check.

"Where were you last night?" said Pansy, who stared unblinkingly at him.

"That was so long ago I don't remember," said Draco.

"Will I see you tonight?"

"I never make plans that far in advance," said Draco matter-a-factly.

Pansy sniffed, and turned to Terry. "Give me another," she said, slamming her glass on the counter.

"She's had enough, Boot," said Draco.

"Don't listen to him, Terry!" she demanded.

"Pansy, I love you, but he pays me," said Terry.

Pansy groaned, her eyes filled with a drunken fire. "Draco! I'm sick and tired of—"

"Call a cab, Terry," Draco interrupted. He took Pansy by the arm. "C'mon, Pansy. It's time for you to go home. You've had enough to drink."

"Oh, what a fool I was to fall for a man like you. Take your hands off me! "

"No," he said, wheeling her outside where Terry stood, waiting with the cab. Draco handed Pansy to Terry. "Boot," he said. "You'd better go with her, just to make sure she gets home."

"Yes, sir," said Terry happily.

"And come straight back."

Terry groaned, "Yes, boss."

Draco turned back to go inside, but saw a figure sitting in a chair on the terrace.

"Hello, Blaise," he said.

"Hello, Draco."

"You are quite wasteful, Draco- throwing away women like that. Someday they may be rare," Blaise said with a small twinkle in his eyes. "Especially that one. She's had a thing for you since Hogwarts; she'd do anything you asked."

Draco shrugged and lit a cigarette.

"You know," Blaise continued. "I may pay a call on Pansy; catch her on the rebound, you know?"

"You're a true democrat, you know that," said Draco. He looked up at the night sky as a plane flew above them, the buzz of the engines sounding in his ears.

"The plane to Lisbon and America," said Blaise. "Would you like to be on it?"

"Why?" said Draco, taking a long drag. "What could I want there?"

"You know, I have often thought about why you don't leave Casablanca. Is it because you stole money? Or perhaps you ran off with a politician's wife. I like to think that you killed a man. It's the romantic in me."

"What's romantic about that?" Draco blew the smoke out. "It's actually a combination of the three."

"Then why come to Casablanca of all places?"

"For the view. I wanted to look at the exotic greenery."

"We're in the middle of a desert. There is no greenery here, nor waters."

Draco shrugged. "I was misinformed."

Blaise gave a small chuckle as Christopher ran out of the club.

"Draco," he said, breathlessly. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, but a man has just won five hundred galleons at craps. The cashier would like some money."

Draco nodded and stood up, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray. "I'll go get it from the safe," he said.

"I am so upset," said Christopher, running beside him. "I don't know how it happened!"

"Don't worry about it," said Draco. "Mistakes happen all the time."

He turned the combination on the safe in his office, pulled out a sack of galleons and gave it to the small man. "I'm sorry," said Christopher. "And it won't happen again." Christopher left the office and closed the door, leaving Blaise and Draco inside.

"Draco," said Blaise. "This may amuse you. We are making a small arrest here in your café tonight."

"Again?" he said.

"We are arresting a murderer." Draco's eyebrows raised; he looked towards the door of the office. "Don't even bother trying to warn him," said Blaise. "There is no possible way he could escape."

"I stick my neck out for nobody," Draco said firmly.

"I smart motto to have. You know, we could have made the arrest this morning at the Silver Coin, but I wanted to have it here out of my respect for you. Thought it would amuse your guests."

"Ginny and the band are enough entertainment."

"This also may interest you," said Blaise. "We are having an important guest here tonight. One of His Chosen- Marcus Flint. We want him here so he can see the arrest."

"Flint, eh?" said Draco, his eyes signifying the recognition of the name. "Anyway, what is he doing here? There is no way he came to Casablanca just to see the efficiency of your squads."

Blaise shrugged.

"Blaise," Draco said, "you have something on your mind. Why don't you just tell me what it is?"

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "You're very observant," he said. "I was going to give you a word of advice." He accepted the brandy Draco gave him and took a sip. "Draco, there are many visas sold at your bar, but we know you have never sold one. That is why we allow you to stay open."

"I thought it was because I let you win at roulette?" said Draco, smiling.

"That is another reason. However, there is a man who is coming to Casablanca that will give a fortune to anyone who will give him an exit visa."

"Really? What's his name?"

"Harry Potter."

Okay, much more action and excitement this time, along with some information. Hope you liked it! Please R&R!

Dragonfires