A note from the venerable Princey: WOW!1 What have you folks been doing with yourselves for the past two years? I went to college!1 In fact, I'm still in college. Some new friends rekindled my passion for writing incredibly pointless stories. HAVE A GOOD TIME.
After Tom and Pansy announced their engagement, or rather, Pansy announced their engagement over an incredibly awkward breakfast of eggs, toast, and coffee, time seemed to fly by. Soon, the couple graduated from Hogwarts and got married, to the delight of the Parkinson's, the disappointment of Ginny Weasely, and the inexplicable irritation of Draco Malfoy. The marriage had a wonderful, celibate beginning and everyone could agree that the two showed obvious promise. Both of them were incredibly wealthy so they were able to spend all of their time basking in the joys of various hobbies. That's why most people were reasonably shocked when Tom announced that he had begun a job as a detective sergeant for the Magical Scotland Yard, or MSY, completely bypassing, because of his numerous connections, the usual first step of becoming a detective constable.
"I'm a DS, Pansy," exclaimed Tom, late one afternoon, as he dashed into their lavish mansion with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.
"A what?" she asked, sipping her gin martini.
"A detective sergeant!"
"A what?" she asked again, nearly choking on her gin martini.
"A detective sergeant!" Tom said again.
"Oh. Why?"
"Well, do you remember when I first came to Hogwarts, the second time, I mean, and I wanted to try out not being evil?"
"I vaguely remember Potter muttering something about you not doing evil things any more."
"Right. Well, I got bored with that and now I want to do the opposite of committing atrocious crimes." Tom brushed a bit of hair out of his eye absentmindedly.
"Isn't the opposite of committing atrocious crimes not committing atrocious crimes?" Pansy asked reasonably.
"One could argue that it is, but the thing is, I don't want to completely distance myself from crime. I love crime."
"So, in order to be closer to it, you're going to be a detective?"
"Yes. I have my first stakeout tonight. There's suspicion that one of Lucius Malfoy's secretaries is smuggling government documents and planning on selling them to He Who Must Not Be Named." Tom's eyes were gleaming with the prospect of catching the man red-handed.
"You mean he's planning on selling them to you?" Pansy wasn't hiding her disdain at her husband's odd new plans.
"Right. It'll be so easy to catch him."
Just then Mrs. Riddle, née Parkinson, thought of a potential complication. "But why does this secretary think he can sell you the papers. You haven't done a thing in the way of taking over the world in quite some time and everyone knows that Lucius has been trying to reorganized your dark forces ever since you drank that youth potion in your orange juice. Granted, Lucius hasn't been very effective, but wouldn't it be easier for the man to just hand the papers over to his boss?"
"You'd think that, but this particular young man doesn't like Lucius Malfoy at all and is under the impression that the Dark Lord is about to rise again. I suppose you might say that I've been hinting very strongly that anyone who wants to really further the pureblood cause had better leave Malfoy and come back to my side. Little do they know, I've come to hate all of those pompous bastards over the past several months."
"That's quite the sting operation," Pansy said uneasily.
"Yes, I'm in a very unique position, in which I'm able to pull off the best sting operation the world has ever known."
"Good thing you used to be such a murderous dictator."