Chapter 2
New Beginnings
Ginny stepped into her office only to find it completely and starkly empty. Ginny glanced at the door. Office Room A243: Weasley, Ginny. This should be the right room. But where was her desk? Her file cabinets? Her parchments? All her research on Zabini from the last six months? Everything? Ginny fought the rising panic.
"Miss Weasley?" Ginny whirled around to see a vaguely familiar witch who Ginny remembered worked across the hall. "You're so lucky! Your new office is gorgeous!"
"New office?" Ginny repeated dumbly.
"It's huge," the witch gushed enviously. "How come you got to move?"
"Where's my new office?" Ginny asked dazedly.
The witch frowned. "You mean you don't know? It's on the other side of the building, Phoenix 200."
Ginny blinked. "Phoenix 200!"
"Well, I was going to ask how you got yourself a phoenix room, but it's obvious you don't know. I thought maybe you won the lottery or something. They don't give phoenix rooms based on merit, you gotta buy it, so only the richest wizards and witches of England are on that side of the building."
Draco. That was the only explanation. "I'm sorry, I gotta go," Ginny interrupted. She ran, fuming, down the hallways. The phoenix rooms were a good five minute walk from where her original office had been, giving Ginny plenty of time to rage furiously to herself. I can't believe Malfoy had the nerve to move my office without my permission. The arrogance! Who does he think he is? I don't care how many galleons you have, Mr. Malfoy but I am not impressed and don't try to buy yourself into my favor.
Ginny pulled herself to a sudden halt. Phoenix Room 200. Breathless, Ginny peered past the door into her new office. The room was huge. There was her desk, her parchments, her file cabinets. All her belongings took up a very small corner of the room. On the other side of the office was a giant mahogany desk, a leather couch, an owl's perch on which slept a huge, black owl, an open cupboard which Ginny noted was filled with chocolate frogs, pumpkin pasties, pudding, firewhisky, etc, and, Ginny observed with silent fury, a large portrait of Draco Malfoy who was currently examining himself in a handheld mirror.
"You're late."
Ginny whirled around had the smooth drawl behind her. There stood the real Draco, as immaculate as his portrait, holding two steaming cups of coffee and a roll of parchment under his arm.
"I'm late!" Ginny repeated incredulously. "You have the nerve to tell me I'm late? How dare you move my office without my permission! And—" Ginny's eyes lighted on the parchment under Draco's arm. "Have you been looking through my papers? This is highly classified information!"
Draco handed Ginny a cup of coffee. "Are you always so disorganized?"
Disorganized? Did Malfoy hear anything I just said? Ginny closed her eyes and turned her face upward in a silent, desperate plea for patience. WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS! Ginny wanted to scream. Instead she forced herself to remain cool, calm, and professional. "That is my parchment," Ginny said coolly, snatching the roll from Draco's arm. "And I did not give you permission to look at it." She stared disdainfully at the cup of coffee Draco held out to her. "I don't drink my coffee black. Go get me cream and sugar." With that, Ginny walked to her desk, unrolled the parchment, and looked every appearance of someone deeply absorbed in her work.
Now Draco was looking incredulous. It was obvious he was not use to being treated so dismissively. For a moment he stood dumbly, then he walked over to Ginny's desk and brought his face very close to hers. "Miss Weasley," he said softly. "I did not donate ten thousand galleons to your department so I could bring you cream and sugar for your coffee."
Ginny gazed unflinchingly at Draco's face hovering inches in front of her own. "Then you are wasting your time."
"Miss Weasley, I expect you to cooperate with me."
"Are you trying to frighten me?"
"I am giving you my opinion."
"Then let me give you my opinion, Malfoy. I am not impressed with however many galleons you can draw out of your pocket. You may have your galleons, but you have no auror privileges. As I am in charge of this Zabini Case, any rights you may have to classified documents are what I choose to give you."
Draco's features remained calm, but his eyes flashed with irritation and anger. However as Ginny spoke, Draco's expression suddenly turned thoughtful and then into something entirely unreadable.
"You are a fool," Draco said, with no malice. Draco's face was so close to hers that Ginny could feel his breath against her face. "You wouldn't know what's good for you if it was staring you right in the face." Even his breath was minty, Ginny realized with exasperation, no longer really listening to Malfoy. Vaguely Ginny wondered if she had remembered to brush her teeth that morning.
"Ginny!" Hermione's scandalized shout broke through the intensity.
Ginny sprang back from Draco, suddenly realizing what they had looked like to an outsider with their faces so close to each other. "Hermione! Thank goodness."
Hermione was leaning against the doorframe, seeming limp with shock. "I think—" Hermione began. "I wanted—Were you—oh my God! I can't believe that— Ginny, did you—"
Ginny could feel her cheeks burning. "It's not what you thought, Hermione. Draco was merely threatening me."
"Threatening you…" Hermione repeated. The words finally registered. Hermione's brows snapped into a frown, her expression beginning to look alarmed.
Draco laughed. "Threaten? Miss Weasley, you are too dramatic. I was simply telling Weasley that I was not going to get her cream and sugar as she had ordered me to do."
Hermione frowned again, this time at Ginny.
No, Ginny decided. She had not brushed her teeth that morning. She had been in too much of a hurry. "Do you have a piece of gum, Hermione?" Ginny inquired.
Hermione's frown deepened. "Gum?"
"Yes, preferably the everlasting mint-flavored ones."
"Ginny, I believe we were talking about Mr. Malfoy."
"I'm not trying to change the subject; I was just asking for a piece of gum."
Looking slightly irritated, Hermione pulled a pack of gum from her purse.
"Thanks."
"Now look," Hermione began. "I understand that neither of you may be too thrilled about working with each other. However, I expect you to act like professionals. Mr. Malfoy, Ginny is—"
"Please," Draco cut in smoothly. "If we are working together, you had better call me Draco."
Hermione pretended she didn't see Ginny wrinkle her nose in distaste. "Draco, then, Ginny is your superior and I expect you to treat her thus. If there are any problems, Ginny, please come to me. You are not allowed to hex your new partner, however tempting it may be."
Ginny gave a little sigh of reluctance and fingered her wand thoughtfully. Draco raised his brows. "I hope," Draco said, eying Ginny, "there won't be any problems. This is a professional workplace after all."
"Of course," Ginny smiled sweetly. "And now, Hermione, if you will excuse us. We can begin right away. I have expectations to inform my new partner of."
"An excellent idea," Draco replied. "I too have expectations to inform you of."
Ginny narrowed her eyes. "You're new here. I don't think you're allowed to have expectations, Draco." If she said the last word a little derisively, no one can really blame her.
"I am investing ten thousand galleons in this department; I have plenty of expectations."
"Well," Hermione interrupted brightly. "I'm glad you two are taking the time to get acquainted. I'll be in my office if there are any questions." And with that, Hermione made a hasty exit.
"First off," Ginny continued, as if Draco and Hermione had never spoken. "I was not very pleased to arrive this morning and find my office had been moved without my knowing. In the future, if you do anything, you will ask me first. Second, you will remove that…item" Ginny pointed at the portrait of Draco hanging on the wall.
"First off," Draco mimicked. "I like that portrait precisely where it is—"
"I don't believe I was finished yet," Ginny interrupted.
"And I think," Draco cut in icily, "that it's time you listen to me. I don't really like the way you've been handling the Zabini case. I have my own ideas of how things should be done. I will do many things without asking your permission. And that picture is going to stay exactly where it is."
Two blotches of red stained Ginny's cheeks. "You're forgetting your place, Malfoy," she hissed, "This is my job. My case. My office. And I decide how things are done. Kindly remove that offensive painting."
For a moment, Draco's eyes flashed something indescribable. Ginny briefly wondered if he would dare hex her. And then he inclined his head in a bow. "As you wish." He flicked his wand. Ginny got a brief glimpse of a pompous, outraged Draco-portrait before it disappeared.
"Now," Draco said. "If we can act like adults, I have a few questions about your latest findings on Zabini." When Ginny didn't give him any dirty looks (Ginny didn't even deign to look at him but that was besides the point), he continued on. "I understand you talked to Mrs. Zabini…did she…provide any useful information?"
At this peculiar question, Ginny's former irritation evaporated and she looked up curiously. "Why are you interested?"
Draco looked surprised. "I'm working with you on the case, aren't I?"
"I've talked with many people, some who have proved useful or non-useful—why do you ask particularly about Mrs. Zabini—how did you even know I had talked to Mrs. Zabini?"
"Pansy and I use to be good friends," Draco replied smoothly. "We haven't talked in many years, but I still hear about her through connections. It's common knowledge that an auror paid her a visit last week."
Ginny frowned. "My visit was suppose to be private."
"Not common public knowledge," Draco corrected. "Common knowledge among her friends. Former Slytherins like to stay…in touch with each other."
"Gryffindors stay in touch too," Ginny returned, a little heatedly. "But that doesn't mean we stick our noses in each other's businesses."
"Miss, Weasley," Draco said, his voice thick with forced patience. "I am working with you because I am interested in the Zabini Case—not to renew old Hogwarts rivalry."
"Ah! And why the Zabini Case?" Ginny challenged. "There are other cases too of missing Followers since You-Know-Who's demise. And not just cases—the auror department covers a wide breadth. Why aren't you interested in working with aurors in criminal justice? Your galleons pay for their work too—"
Draco held up a hand, as if to ward off Ginny's questions. With the other hand rubbing his temple, he made his way over to his desk—his huge, fancy desk, Ginny thought irritably—and poured himself a glass of firewhiskey. When he had drained the glass empty, he turned to Ginny. "I will answer your questions, in due time, Miss Weasley. But, I think we could make a lot more progress if you didn't question my every motive, and actually started working together."
"I don't trust you, Malfoy. I don't know why this Zabini case means so much to you. And until I know why, I'm not sure I want to work together." And even if I did know why, Ginny thought, I'm not sure I would still want to work with you.
"And perhaps when you decide that this is the Ministry of Magic, not Hogwarts, and that you're being paid by my galleons, you can answer my questions because I don't give two knuts about whether you trust me or not."
Ginny blinked. She wasn't acting that immaturely was she? How had Draco managed to reduce her into a little child throwing a tantrum? Perhaps she should stamp her foot for the effect. Alright Ginny she thought rebukingly. For once Malfoy's right. Let's try to act like professionals.
"I did talk to Mrs. Zabini," Ginny finally said. She had tried to sound polite and business-like, but it came out more reluctant and resentful.
"Did she say anything?" Draco asked.
"Obviously," Ginny snorted. Try to act professionally, her mental voice admonished. Ginny sighed inwardly before reluctantly adding, "But if you're asking if she provided any helpful information, the answer is no."
"Did you make a transcript of your visit?"
"Of course," Ginny said, insulted. What kind of auror do you think I am? But she didn't say that thought out loud.
Draco raised his brows. "May I see it?" He asked, a hint of impatience in his voice. Ginny hid a satisfied smile. She knew she was being difficult, but she couldn't care "two knuts" if Draco was irritated or not.
Draco spent the next two hours pouring over the transcript of Ginny's interview with Mrs. Zabini. Ginny couldn't possibly guess what was so interesting about the interview. Pansy had not been exactly the most cooperative person to talk to. She had made it clear from the moment Ginny stepped into her house that she still considered Weasleys inferior wizards. Ginny glanced over at Draco; maybe he was laughing at Pansy's condescension to her. But no, Draco was still reading the transcript with the utmost concentration. Almost unwillingly, Ginny found herself admiring, no, observing Draco. It was the same blonde hair, gray eyes from Hogwarts days, same pale, pointed face. But no, if Ginny was going to be honest with herself, his features weren't as pointed and rodent-looking as before. If Ginny was going to be brutally honest, if Draco wasn't Draco, she'd be incredibly attracted to him. But it was Draco, Ginny reminded herself, and he'd always be the pale, pointed, rodent-faced Malfoy whom the pseudo-Moody had turned, oh so appropriately, into a ferret for that one day.
"You talked to Amerie?" Draco's question broke through Ginny's thoughts.
"What?" Hastily, Ginny averted her gaze so Draco wouldn't notice she had been staring.
"Amerie. Did you interview her too?"
Ginny blinked. "Who on earth is Amerie?"
Draco visibly hesitated. "You asked Mrs. Zabini if Blaise ever told her of his business, and Pansy mentions someone named Amerie. Did you ever talk to this Amerie?"
"Oh," Ginny searched her memory. "Yes, I looked up Amerie in the Ministry's listings. But she's a squib pretending to be a muggle—doesn't know anything about Blaise."
"I don't suppose you still have her address?"
Ginny frowned. "Why? I just told you she's doesn't know anything."
Draco shrugged. "I'm just asking."
Ginny pulled out a parchment from one of her folders. "207 Westwood," she read. "It's an almost all muggle community. The closest wizard lives three blocks down, Josiah Meriwort." Draco scribbled the address on a scratch sheet. "What are you doing?" Ginny demanded. "Are you planning to visit this person?"
"Actually, yes. I don't think you did a very thorough interview with this Amerie; I'd like to talk to her myself."
"You can't," Ginny said, a little smugly. "You don't have auror privileges. She might be a squib but she still has protections from intruders."
Draco smirked. "I'll keep that in mind."
..--.--..--..--..--..--.
207 Westwood Street was a tiny little townhouse on a street of identical houses all with trimmed lawns, pristine white picket fences, pruned bushes, and carefully potted geranium flowers. Draco rang the doorbell.
"Yes?" The door opened a crack, but Draco couldn't see the face behind the screen.
"Hello Amerie," Draco greeted pleasantly.
The door opened properly now, revealing a gorgeous black witch with carefully coiled black hair and bright, piercing black eyes. "Draco Malfoy?" the woman asked incredulously. "How on earth did you end up on my doorstep?"
"Connections," Draco replied. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
Amerie hesitated, her dark eyes wary. "I don't know whether to be pleased or apprehensive to see you." But she opened the door anyways.
The first half of the house was a standard muggle house, with a standard living room with the typical muggle contraptions like television, phone, etc. However, Amerie led Draco through a narrow hallway which opened up to a enormous, obviously magical, dome-shaped room that was much to large to fit inside the tiny townhouse Draco had seen outside. Ivy crawled all over the ceiling and walls, blooming a new rose every minute. Draco and Amerie were standing on a dais, several feet above the room. A staircase spiraled over to where they were standing, allowing Draco and his host to step down to the room.
"The auror who told me how to find you told me you were a squib." Draco smirked.
Amerie laughed. "Stupid busybody. I've had years of practice hiding; I know how to keep the Ministry out of my hair. Squip indeed." She snorted derisively. As if to prove her point, Amerie pulled out a wand and muttered a spell. A chair slid over for her to sit in. She didn't bother offering a seat for Draco, so he called a seat over himself. "So what brings you to my humble abode, Draco?"
"Humble?" Draco lifted a brow. "That's the last word I would use to describe a Zabini."
Amerie's eyes darkened. "I'm not a Zabini," she said coldly.
Draco laughed. "Oh please, I don't care if you're Zabini or not. All pure-bloods are interrelated anyways."
"My record says Amerie Slavidne."
"Slavidne, Zabini," Draco waved his hand dismissively. "Still, if there's anyone who knows anything about Blaise, it's you."
"The auror who visited didn't think so."
"Ginny doesn't know you," Draco replied.
"And you think you do?"
"Ginny doesn't know that you and Blaise have been madly in love with each other since you were six when your father married his mother and you became step-brother and step-sister. I know that much about you."
"Your point?"
"And even when he married Pansy five years ago, that didn't stop him from keeping you company during the night."
"I said, what's your point."
"I'm looking for Blaise," Draco said simply.
"I was told he was dead."
"He's not dead."
"What makes you so sure?"
"If he was dead, you would have married someone by now."
Amerie winced. It was too close to the truth not to hurt. But she still said, "What does that have anything to do with Blaise?"
"Don't be stupid, Amerie," said Draco.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Amerie said. She stood up. "I think you should be leaving now."
"I'm not stupid, Amerie. I know Blaise isn't dead."
"He is."
"You know he's not."
"All I know is that I haven't seen him in three years."
"You're lying."
"Don't act like you know me, Draco Malfoy," Amerie snapped.
"I'm a gifted at occlumency. I can tell if you're lying or not."
"I think you should be leaving. You know your way out."
Draco got up. "What are you hiding, Amerie?"
"I don't know where Blaise is," Amerie snapped.
"But you know he's not dead," Draco pressed.
"Why do you want to know?" she asked.
Draco hesitated. Suddenly the tables had turned. Amerie noticed and laughed. "I know you're not working for the Ministry, Draco." He didn't say anything. "I read how you had donated ten thousand galleons to the auror department. What are you looking for? What's Blaise to you?"
"He's an old friend," Draco said, tone forcibly casual. "Can I take an interest in an old friend?"
Amerie laughed genuinely at that. "Draco, you've never cared for anyone but yourself."
"That's not true," Draco said.
"A pet snake doesn't count."
"If you tell me what you know about Blaise, I could give you more protection," Draco said. Amerie looked up. "I'm not the only one looking for Blaise," Draco said. "You think you can hide forever?"
"I can take care of myself."
"Think about it," Draco said. "I'll visit you another time.
> . > . > . > . > . > .
The apartment was empty when Ginny flooed back. Luna was in America doing a research report on tooth fairies and wouldn't be back until next week. Ginny sighed. It was lonely without Luna. Since the war five years ago, Luna had become one of Ginny's dearest friends. Ginny often felt that Luna was her only link to a former, carefree life at Hogwarts. The war had forced everyone to grow up so fast. Only Luna was the same, dear Luna with her same crazy faith in non-existent creatures. She was editor of The Quibbler now and wrote articles that Hermione knew better than to criticize.
Ginny flung herself on her bed. She couldn't help reflecting about how much had changed since the war. Harry, whose life ambition was to be an auror, gave it up after the war. He was sick of fighting, he said. Now, he was a professor at Hogwarts…of Defense against Dark Arts. Ginny suspected it was also Harry's way of remaining faithful to Dumbledore. And he shared a now-expanded hut with Hagrid. Ron was the owner of a company that produced wizarding chess. Hermione had been surprised, but Ginny had seen it coming ever since Ron saw how successful Fred and George were with their joke shop. Only her and Hermione had followed through with their dream of becoming aurors.
Ginny got up. She was hungry, but she didn't feel like cooking by herself tonight.
Myriah Fibblewitz Cuisine was a newly opened restaurant on Diagon Alley and served the best chicken panini sandwiches ever. The waiter had just served Ginny her sandwich, and she was prepared to enjoy her dinner when the door bell chimed. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny thought she glimpsed blonde hair and flowing black robes. She turned her head to confirm that it was indeed her new auror partner. He was looking immaculate as usual, and Ginny felt slightly self-conscious in her shabby but favorite green robe, worn for comfort not appearance. Draco obviously hadn't seen Ginny and had made his way over to a pretty blonde-haired witch in lacy pink robes. Ginny felt even more aware of the shabby green robes she had thrown on after work. She was also aware that she was sitting by herself, where most of the other wizards and witches around her were with a date or a group of friends. Ginny watched as Draco pressed a kiss to the lady's hand and said something that made the girl laugh. Ginny never felt like a bigger loser in her life. If there was another feeling akin to jealousy, Ginny chose to ignore it. She was determined to enjoy her chicken panini sandwich which had lost much of its flavor since Draco had come in.
"Weasley." The unexpected voice made Ginny jerk.
She looked up. It was Draco.
"May I join you?"
"I'm expecting someone," Ginny replied automatically.
Draco smirked. "If you were, you wouldn't have started eating. Even a Weasley knows her manners."
Ginny bit back a retort. "Aren't you here with somebody?"
"Actually, I came here to find you," Draco said, taking the seat across from her.
Ginny glanced involuntary at the pink witch across the room. Draco noticed her gaze. "Emmaline is just an old friend. She's meeting her husband here."
"Oh." The unnamed feeling akin to jealousy that Ginny had persistently ignored suddenly disappeared.
Suddenly she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "How did you know I was here?"
"Hermione."
"Oh." That made sense. Hermione had a tracker of all the aurors under her. It made it useful in case there was ever an emergency and aurors were needed.
"I wanted to find you because I visited Amerie again. I think you should visit her again. She's not a squib, and she might know something about Blaise."
Ginny raised her eyebrows. That was quick and to the point. "What?"
"She lied to you to get you out of her hair."
"How do you know all this?" Ginny demanded.
"Amerie's an old friend of Blaise. Actually, they're step-brother and step-sister. They're…very close."
Ginny chewed thoughtfully on her sandwich. "What did she say to you?"
"She wouldn't tell me anything. That's why I think you should pay her another visit."
"If what you say is true, she's committed a serious offense. I could potentially charge her with assisting the Dark side if she's withholding important information on Zabini. If Zabini's alive, and she knows where he is, she could go to Azkaban."
"She's probably just trying to protect herself," Draco said mildly. "She might be afraid that the Ministry will associate her with Zabini's crimes. Anyone would denying knowing a Death Eater in such a situation. It would probably be more effective to gain her trust and get information."
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."
"I would like to accompany you when you pay your second visit."
"I'll consider it."
Draco looked annoyed. "It's not really a request."
"I said I'd consider it."
