He he he… has it really been two weeks already? My how time flies when you're procrastinating… sorry to take so long with this, but I just haven't been able to get it done lately. Too much work.

Anyway, without further ado:

The next morning found me sitting tired-eyed at my kitchen table, making love to a cup of coffee, while I looked over the file.

Needless to say, the previous night had been a sleepless one, and when I finally drifted off just after 2 in the morning, it was into troubled dreams that I slipped. After waking up for the third time that night with sweat dripping from my brow, and the memory of shifting silver reaching out to me from the netherworld of my dreams, I finally decided to give it up, and at least get some work done.

That was around 2 and a half hours ago.

I took another sip from my cup, and read another paragraph before I sat up, arching my back and sighing. Nothing. No leads yet.

It was a bit frustrating. I mean, sure, I knew that these things took some time, and all. If I really wanted to nab this guy, it was going to take patience, but at the moment, I was just irritable, and tired, and ready to get the day over with.

I hunched back over, and blinked my eyes to refocus them, before dragging my finger along a passage that outlined the work history of one Elwood Mortimer Michaels.

Elwood, or 'Wood,' as I have heard him called, was the man responsible for taking care of the livestock. It was he who'd fed the goats the other evening, and it was he who took the blame for the pandemonium that I encountered yesterday.

From what I could see, he was a good employee. Not exemplary, though, and not always competent. He'd been relegated to goat duty after the broken jaw incident (which he'd played a small part in), and had been there ever since. So, he was a bit of a fuck-up, yes, but he didn't seem like the sabotage type. And I was sure that the goats were sabotage. I mean, what were the odds that the goats would get out on the same nigh that Cletis forgot to close his office door, and then proceed to eat all of the medical data on the dragons.

Not very high, I should think.

So not Elwood… but he was the only real connection that I had. Perhaps I'd got out of my way to meet him today.

I skimmed over Beauregard Knightshade's file, mostly out of curiosity. He'd seemed much too young to be working at a place like Ridgeback Ranch… and sure enough, Bo, was only 16.

Interesting.

I worried my bottom lip as I read more. Student of Beauxbaton… in England for a trial vocational program established by Headmistress Olympe Maxim of Beauxbaton… letter of recommendation from Jaques Sinclaire, prof. of Magical Medicine, Aubrey DeVillar, prof. of Creature Studies, and… I paused, furrowed my brow, and read again… Cletis Edenrow. Now that was interesting.

I made a mental note to do a little poking around about that today.

Just before draining my cup for the last time, I looked up one more name: Rich Tourdy.

Okay, 27, graduate of Beuxbatons academy, fluent in Russian, Italian, French and English, perfect work record… obviously the man bared some watching. It was possible he could be behind the mayhem at Ridgeback… maybe… okay, so the truth was I was using company resources to check out a guy I was thinking of inviting to a concert with me this weekend. I admit it.

Somehow, I thought I'd still be able to sleep at night. And probably 10 times better, once certain, um, needs had been met.

I shivered as a flash of a sheet of silver cut through my mind. Silky strands, thick between my fingers. I quickly pushed those images away.

Yes, what I needed was a night of release, then I could go back to hating Malfoy in peace… lord knew he jumped on every chance he got to feed his appetite, what with those assistants he was constantly cycling through.

I felt a sting of an emotion that was something between anger and… and… no, I just lost it. Perhaps it had been… heartache? No, not quite. Something else then. And then again, it had been Malfoy I'd just been thinking about. It was entirely possible that the whole of the emotion had just been anger.

I shook my head and the effect was a momentary clearing, like cutting through a fog. If I was having trouble deciphering my feelings about Malfoy, then I was obviously too tired. Of course it was nothing but anger. What else could it possibly be?

I ignored the voice that said 'something else.'

Great, now I couldn't even trust my own mind.

With one more frustrated sigh, I turned to the clock.

Lord love a duck! I'd been so wrapped up in the file (and Malfoy) that nearly an hour had gone by without my noticing.

I quickly packed up the folder, and shrunk it before putting it in the pocket of my robes, before hurriedly pouring a glass of orange juice down my throat, and giving myself a quick once-over in the hall mirror (hair a bit on the wild side, cheeks pale, eyes bagged and tired-looking… eh, who cares). Nearly eight! I couldn't believe it. I still had to take my computer in to the shop, and meet Tracy for his computer lessons. And all before work. What was I to do.

I paused in the foyer to take a deep, calming breath, then disappeared with a sharp 'bampf.'

*

*

*

I reappeared in front of a shop that was identified as "Wands and Wires," the only shop in London specializing in Wizarding machines (and I could just imagine the reaction a muggle tech would have to some of the software my notebook sported). They also happened to be the only shop this side of the Atlantic that would fix my computer under warrantee.

I took the short flight of stars two at a time, and entered the establishment, feeling a bit euphoric at having finally gotten the blasted thing to the shop.

My euphoria was killed a moment later.

"What do you mean I've got to wait until Monday?" I asked, enraged.

The man behind the counter… well, actually, I use the term 'man' loosely. He was much more like a boy… or perhaps 'nauseating adolescent' would be a more apt description. He was obviously chronically plagued by acne, and I had to wonder just why it was that a society that could cure Aids with a swish and a flick could do nothing for this man's skin condition. Shameful.

"Listen miss," he said, turning his pimpled nose up slightly, Our main tech is on holiday in Tahiti, and the replacement the agency found us rather unfortunately just come down with a very serious case of Weasels."

"Measles," I corrected.

He sniffed irritably, "no," he said, "Weasels… don't ask. Our head tech will be back on Monday, so unless you fancy a Trans-Atlantic apparation to the repair center in New York, I really don't see how you can get it fixed under warrantee."

"But surely there's another alternative!"

"I assure you, madam, there is not." He gave me a curt nod, and a 'good day' as he ushered me out of the building.

Great, life just couldn't get any better.

There was no way I was going to wait until Monday for my computer. I had one other option: Mick McKay. Mickey was brilliant and knew computers better than anyone else I knew. Unfortunately he was also a bit of an eccentric, and was about as likely to detonate my computer as he was to fix it. That sort of thing tends to void warrantees, and certainly doesn't get covered by them.

Still… it seemed the only choice.

In that case, I'd have to wait until at least after work. If Mickey was going to be mucking about in my laptop, there was no way I was going to trust it to him while I was away. No, I'd have to watch over him like a hawk.

Not exactly how I'd planned to spend my early evening.

I paused a moment to center myself, before apparating into the office on Blunderbus ln.

Tracy leapt to his feet so quickly, his chair overturned behind him. He blushed, and mumbled something I couldn't quite catch as he turned to right it.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Oh, er…" he turned back to me, his chair now firmly on the floor, and gave his tie a nervous tug, "I was just startled by you, that's all."

"Startled?" I glanced at the clock, "but it's 8:20… I'm actually a little late."

"Well, um, you know, I'd thought you might not be coming."

"But why wouldn't I…"

"Actually, I sort of hoped you wouldn't."

I paused, my mouth open, ready to finish my sentence. "…come." I finished, the moment the initial shock wore off. And added a "what do you mean by that?" for good measure.

"It's just… I mean, nothing personal, or anything, but I don't think I should take my lessons from you. I… I mean, people could get the wrong idea if spend so much time together… you know, begin to think our relationship is less than professional."

"What people?" I asked, my eyes narrowing into suspicious slits. This all seemed so familiar.

"You know… PEOPLE."

I rocked back on my heels like I'd just been caught a physical blow. Of course! This whole thing smacked of Malfoy's influence. Just like the Douglas and Darcy interview. What I couldn't quite understand was why. I mean… what possible reason could Malfoy have for wanting not wanting Tracy and I to get too chummy… unless… well, I suppose it was entirely possible that he didn't want Higgins to start to sympathize with me. It would ruin his plans for revenge if Tracy took pity on me, and didn't give me the assignments Malfoy had planned out for me.

But if Tracy was intimidated enough by Malfoy to scratch all future computer sessions with me, then you'd think the git would have little to worry about as far as Tracy openly defying him about my jobs.

Ugh! Trying to figure Malfoy out was giving me a tremendous headache.

"Fine," I said, in a pained voice, as I began to massage my temples. "Whatever… just tell Malfoy I said he was a bastard."

Tracy held back his chuckle, but couldn't keep the smile from his lips altogether. "I'll be sure to bring it up at the next employee meeting."

"You do that," I said, and left by floo this time. My destination I proclaimed as the Dirty Witch. I had half an hour and the mother of all migraines to kill now, and I'd bet anything that in a fine country establishment like that pub, they knew how to make one mean cup of coffee.

And they certainly did.

I made my way past the two philosophers (apparent regulars) and slipped into a seat at the bar, and Gina didn't seem at all surprised to see me.

"Rough night?" She asked sympathetically, and smiled kindly at me when I nodded. "Wasn't that 'high-handed prat of a man,' again, was it?"

"Right in one," I confirmed, "cup of coffee for a dying woman?"

She snickered, and obliged me. "He must be pretty important to you, if he's got you this worked up."

I snorted. I knew what she was implying. Absurd. "He's my boss, and he's a prat, that's his importance."

"m-hmm… so how has your week been? It's certainly not easy being pushed right into a position like that. I mean, with no training, and all."

The woman had no idea. "Let's put it this way, on my first day, I personally saw to it that their instance of casualties made the 109 mark."

"Is that so? Well, you seem to have come out of it fine, Dear, I suppose you can thank your lucky stars for that."

Right, my lucky stars… or Malfoy. That is, if I could forget that he was the one who put me in danger to begin with.

Gina moved off to polish another counter. And I? I sunk into my coffee, and didn't say another word until I saw the bottom of my cup.

I put the empty mug on to the counter, left a twelve sickles on the bar (coffee and generous tip) and bid the bartender adieu.

I was almost to the door when the most heavenly scent drifted under my nose.

"What," I asked, stopping dead less than two feet from the door, and turning back to Gina, "is that smell?"

She grinned. "Oh, that? That would be Marvin in the kitchens."

"Kitchens?" I asked. I hadn't remembered seeing and doors for a kitchen before. I swept my gaze across the room, and was shocked to find one adjacent from the fireplace, right in clean view both times I'd flooed in. Was I really that unobservant, or…

Gina chuckled, "nothing's wrong with your eyes, Dear. The kitchens don't even open until 9:30, why bother with doors to a place that doesn't even require staff until 9?"

I saw her point.

"It smells wonderful." I stated.

"In that case, why don't you drop by for lunch?"

Sounded like a good idea to me.

*

*

*

I was relieved to find, when I arrived, that things appeared to be running normally.

Cletis greeted me immediately, and informed me that I was going to be working with the hatchlings again today, and that I'd have to do it without much help from Rich or himself, as the two of them had to spend the first half of the day assisting the vets, who'd come to replace the digested records.

I had no problems with that, the hatchling area was probably the least likely place on the ranch to incur injury, and it was an uneventful first few hours.

The hatchery was the last stop on the vet rounds, so it just happened that Bo came in to relieve me for lunch just as Cletis and Rich were finishing up.

I was considering asking Rich to join me at the Dirty Witch, and so I was more than a little shocked when he asked me what my plans were.

"I've heard that Marvin is an excellent cook. I was hoping to take a trip down the road to the Dirty Witch for something… I don't suppose you'd care to join me."

He gave me a smile… he really had a lovely smile. "Absolutely!"

I'm not sure if he noticed the dark look Cletis cast him, but I certainly did.

*

*

*

The Dirty Witch by lunch time was a much more happening place than it was at half past eight in the morning. The philosophers were still there, though they were sober now (a momentary state, I'm sure) and in addition, there was a family of five seated at a large table near the door, and several single serious drinkers at the bar. Rich and I took a table near the fireplace, and Rich went up to order for us ("trust me, the special is to die for") and I sat back to wait.

Rich returned shortly, and took the seat opposite me, grinning. "About ten minutes," he informed me, "you're going to love this… I'm not sure what it is, exactly, but I think it has potatoes in it…"

"I'm sure it will be perfect," I assured him. "So…" I wasn't really sure what to say, "um, the check-ups went well?"

"Oh, yes," he said with a nod, "went off without a hitch… and such a relief. Seems like lately, everything that can go wrong does."

"So you've noticed too!"

"Noticed what?"

My eyes widened in shock as I realized what I'd just said. Rich, of course didn't know about my investigation… hell, even Malfoy didn't know about my investigation… but here I was, nearly giving myself away.

"Um, you know, first the dragon fight, and then the goats… I was sort of wondering if it was always so exciting at the ranch, or if I was just lucky."

"A bit of both," he said, "we thought you were a goner for sure, until we realized you were wearing dragonhide under that robe. Where'd you get that outfit, anyway… very expensive. A few of the boys were thinking… you know… I mean, considering the way he showed up, and all… that maybe…but after seeing you two together…"

I was saved having to answer the question that was coming by Gina bringing by two glasses of water, and shortly after that Rich excused himself to the bathroom.

Rich, I decided, was the nice, sweet, active type of guy I could really go for, and I'd just about talked myself into asking him to accompany me to the concert, when I heard it. It was like hearing Satan himself summoning me, and the effect was to give me violent shudders.

"Granger!" He was in a good mood, which I could only assume meant that I was about to have a very bad day. "I'm glad I've caught you."

I'd been drinking my water when he came in, and managed to think something along the lines of 'what is he doing here' between hacking attempts to dislodge the errand ice chunk in my throat. He approached my table, smirking all the way. "Gee, Granger, are you feeling alright?"

One last cough, and a shaky indrawn breath and then, "isn't there anywhere I'm safe from you"

"Nope," he said, leaning against my table, and peering down at me with amusement twinkling in his eyes. "I thought you of all people would have learned there's no safety from a Malfoy. He pulled my water glass from my stiff fingers, and brought it to his lips for a sip. I was too shocked to say anything as he pulled it away, and the clicking of ice on his teeth as he rolled a cube around his mouth was the only sound for several moments. "Just out of curiosity," he said, his eyes flashing with a mischief that belied his words, "what exactly is it you're afraid I'll do?"

"Shut up, Malfoy.," I mumbled, horrified at the heat that had risen up in my cheeks.

"You're afraid I'll shut up? I don't think so, Granger. Try again."

"Fine, what I'm really afraid of is that you'll never get to the point, and I'll have to endure your obnoxious company for the remainder of my lunch break… speaking of which, how did you know I'd be here?"

"Cletis told me, and my my, but you're being particularly cranky, my dear."

"First of all, I'm not your 'dear' anything, and second, I'm not over cranky, you're just overly annoying! Why have you been so cheerfully intolerable lately?"

My eye twitched as he dipped his fingers into my glass, and pulled out another cube of ice. He popped it into his mouth, and crunched it in satisfaction before answering. "I'm always cheerful, when things are going my way."

I wanted to grab his neck and squeeze until he stopped twitching. "What do you want!" I hissed.

"Your company?"

My glare said I didn't think so.

"No," he conceded, "I suppose not. Who would want your company?"

"I would." It was Rich's voice, and I couldn't explain the feeling of near disappointment at hearing it. "Hermoine," he said as Malfoy and I both turned to him, "is he bothering you?"

Malfoy straightened, greeting Rich with a cold glare, "and if I am, Tourdy?"

To his credit, Rich did not back down.

"Forget it, Granger," he said, turning away, "I'll talk to you about it later." And with that, he marched back out the front door in a rustle of silk.

"What was he doing here?" And Rich didn't seem so much sweet and shy now as homocidal.

"I'm not really sure, but now I'm going to have to see him later to find out," I resisted the urge to add 'thanks a lot.'

"Right…" he said tightly, then "I'll see you back at the ranch."

And then there was one.

What had just happened, he hadn't even waited for his food, and as much as my feminine ego would love to think that he left because he was jealous of Malfoy and I, it was just too ridiculous to fathom. A guy I barely knew jealous of a man I hated? Definitely ridiculous. There was something else going on.

I started to take a drink from my glass, then remembered at the last minute that Malfoy'd put his fingers in there, and slammed the glass back down again.

"Mind the cups, dear," said Gina, "We've unbreakabled them, but that doesn't keep them from spilling. Besides, it isn't the cup that you're angry with."

"How right you are."

"You really should have known better than to get those two together, though. There's bad blood between them."

This perked me right up, "how so?"

"Well, I thought you'd know." She said with a shocked expression. "Ridgeback used to belong to the Tourdy's… before Rich's granddad lost it to Lucius Malfoy in a game of cards. Granddad Tourdy was a bit of a gambler, you see."

Great, my Mr. Right just became suspect number one.

*

*

*

Well… the plot thins…

This was a bit longer than the others, and I nearly made it longer still, but had to cut it, or it would have ended up too long.

Okay, thanks to everyone who reviewed.

Hope I've explained the computer… and yes, I intended to do it this way all along, it really wasn't some lame attempt to cover a plot hole. Can you imagine what would happen to your friendly Dell repair man if he got hold of software that could bring what you wrote into being, for example? I figured she'd need a specialty shop.

What else…

I'm really liking little majesty's Steep:

And I absolutely love the one shot, It's Not Easy Being a Badass by Disco Biscut:

Alright, folks, that's all I can remember right now… as always, constructive criticisms, wild praise… whatever.