Chapter 15: The Last Laugh

And the lofty Shrapnel-cloud

Leisurely gestured, - 'Fool!'

And the falling splinters tittered.

The Last Laugh, Wilfred Owen

Draco studied the picture for the umpteenth time in the two hours he had taken the file out. Somehow, there was something in the back of his mind niggling, telling him that this was the one. The whole picture had remained unfocused and blur, even after sharpening the images painstakingly slowly.

All he could make out was the small figures in the picture, black, grey, and a few hues of blue and red and faint beige of skin. The idiot who took this picture with a muggle camera was going to pay, Draco thought, his brows furrowed as he zoomed in on a small part of the photo. Frowning, he held the picture up to the light, yet it did not help.

Only then, did he realised that there was somebody peeping over the boards that segregated each and ever Auror. The Auror gave a squeak and bent down again, red hair vanishing behind the boards. "Weasley, this isn't any time to be fooling around," He growled and stood up, himself peering over the barrier. "What do you want?" He snapped. The little sleep he had been getting had been plagued by nightmares of his cousin's death, each night more gruesome than before. He had eye bags that stood out against his pale skin and he refused to allow Hermione to apply any type of make-up on his face to conceal it. She too could sense the tense air around him whenever he was around.

"It's just that, the chief kicked me off the team," Ginny whined, "He took everything, even the photos. But I want it back!" Draco reached over the hit her head lightly. "You're silly not to even know why," Draco quipped and held up the photo once again. "But it's okay! I WANT TO DO THIS JOB!" She yelled. Luckily, nobody heard her. It was lunch break and most Aurors had disappeared to take a well-deserved lunch. Harry had gone to buy some sandwiches for the three of them.

Draco grinned and handed some photos to her. "Take them and decipher what you've got. I need to use the toilet," Draco instructed her and walked out of his cubicle. "Tell me what you got when I come back. You are not to tell the chief what you're doing, think of it as not going onto the field," Ginny nodded delightedly and snatched the photos out of his hand frenetically. "You've got a deal."

Draco smiled at the excited lady and walked out of the office and turned left. His heels clicked noisily in the empty corridors until he heard another sound coming in the opposite direction. "Malfoy?" Harry raised his eyebrow when they saw each other. "Sorry, nature calls," Draco replied and walked faster and turned at another corner, leaving Harry staring blankly at the space in front of him. "I just wanted him to help carry the sandwiches," Harry muttered and shrugged, heading back to the office.

When Draco reached the office after relieving himself, he found Ginny and Harry sitting on the floor, with photos spread out on the width of the walkway. The two of them were huddled close together, and whispering as they placed a photo in a designated position. Draco peered over the two of them and saw they had recreated a whole map of pictures against the London Map.

"Malfoy, this is very serious," Harry said solemnly and pointed at the map with his wand. The wand emitted a red ink, standing out from the green and black lines of the map. "They're tracking something," Ginny said in a hushed voice, eyeing the map in terror.

And then Draco saw why the picture he had been staring so hard at didn't make much sense. Drawing it out from his pocket he filled the gap in between two other pictures. The words stood up in a faint yellow. "Or someone. Gallows Inn," He murmured, staring at the picture. Zooming in on the grimy windows, he recognised the burly outline of the two men. "Flint and Nott," Harry gasped, "Weren't they killed in the war?"

Draco snorted, "Knowing them, they would find someway to worm their selves out of it. You probably saw Flint and Nott Seniors dead. Or was Nott dead even before the war? Whatever it was, they're still alive and breathing." No wonder the photographer was under the Witness Protection Programme, he mused, with pictures like these, people would be dying to kill him. "Do you know where they're heading next?" He asked Ginny.

Ginny frowned and looked at the last picture she was holding in her hand. "Does this make sense to you at all?" She passed the zoomed in photograph to Draco and Draco studied it closely for a moment. "Well?" Ginny asked. "Well, I, I can't make sense of it at all," Draco confessed and held it in front of Harry who had started taking out the sandwiches. "Nothing," Harry shook his head, "You're going to have to pass it the somebody else."

"No, I'm keeping it. I'll bring it home and study tonight and get back to you tomorrow," Draco replied firmly and put it into his pocket. Harry shrugged and Ginny studied the map even closer. "Do you think they're hunting something? Look at it. They go from this place to the next a few days later, and then they move again in a matter of days when the photographer took it. It's as if they're following a route around London."

Before Ginny could say more the three of them heard loud footsteps and a noisy ruckus approaching the office. The next thing they knew, the office doors and burst open, the junior Aurors filing in boisterously. "SHUT IT," Draco and Harry roared in unison as Ginny quickly cleared the cramped walkway. The two of them looked at each other and smiled. Being with Potty and Weasel wasn't so bad after all.

"That's easy, all you have to do is figure the cryptogram," Hermione said in between mouthfuls of fried rice. Hermione had been too tired to cook that evening, what with trying to make the tree in the garden grow and doing the monthly spring cleaning of the entire house. In the end, she had brought Ben to Chinatown where they had noodles and roast duck, and bought some fried rice back for Draco's dinner and Ben's supper. And now, she was eating the remainders of Ben's whilst staring at the photograph that Draco had handed her.

"It doesn't make sense when its all mumbo jumbo does it? Okay, now that I've told you about it, go figure it out," Hermione chided Draco had was staring grumpily at her. "You make it sound so easy," Draco complained and snatched the photograph out of her hand. Fifteen minutes later, Draco was still stuck on the first line. "Is there such a word as herthwe?" Draco pursed his lips, the quill in his hand struck out yet another word. The parchment was rapidly filling up with black scratches of the quill; the inkpot was slowly emptying.

"That would be a something new in the dictionary," Hermione replied as she washed the cups and plates. "Read out the sentence." Draco tapped the paper and said clearly, " 'Oh! Jesus Christ! I'm hit,' he said; and died. Herthwe," Hermione threw her head back and gave a loud laugh, "I think the word should be 'whether." Draco blinked then scratched out the word and on a clean sheet of parchment with only the first sentence, he wrote the word down. "Aren't you going to help me out?" Draco eventually asked what was on his mind. "Why should I?" Hermione retorted.

Another hour later, Draco finally figured out the message. "Want me to read it out?" Draco asked Hermione. She had finished washing the cutlery and had started on the laundry. "Go on then," she nodded and left the wet clothes on the line. Draco took a deep breath and started.

"'Oh! Jesus Christ! I'm hit,' he said; and died.
Whether he vainly cursed or prayed indeed,
The Bullets chirped-In vain, vain, vain!
Machine-guns chuckled,-Tut-tut! Tut-tut!
And the Big Gun guffawed."

"It's a poem," Hermione replied simply. "I know it's a poem. But what does it mean?" Draco snapped and ran a hand through his hair. Stupid poem that makes no sense, Draco thought as he jabbed the paper hard, hoping that the answers would appear. Hermione sighed and took the paper away from Draco's mutilation. "This is the consequence of not sleeping enough. You act as if you've got the Peter Pan complex." Draco muttered a few words under his breath. Hermione examined the parchment and said softly, "Whatever is going to happen, they're going to create a new method of dying."

"What?" Draco's head snapped up and watched Hermione attentively. "Listen. The last three lines practically means that somebody is going to kill somebody. They fighting back would be in vain as they would eventually die. They would be laughed at, somebody looks down on somebody else." The pieces clicked in Draco's brain and he snatched the parchment. "I've got something to do," Draco said as he almost flew out of his seat and walked swiftly to the door where he grabbed his coat. "Don't stay up, Granger." Was the last thing that Hermione heard before there was a pop and the Manor went quiet.

Draco entered the quiet Ministry of Magic quickly. There should be nobody around at this time. He ruffled through the photos on his table and found nothing. When he walked over to Ginny's table, he found that she had carefully rolled up the map along with all the photos that were neatly pasted in. Smiling, he opened the map and looked at the pictures again. And then, he saw what he had been finding.

It was a picture of a note that had been crumpled. It was dated a week ago. Alfred had done a good job of getting the new photos sent in on time once again. It was a jumble of alphabets on the note and the more Draco looked at it, the more the cryptogram seemed the merge until it was a full blur. And then, he heard a tiny click of the door opening and the chief walked in.

"Malfoy?"

"Sir."

"What the hell are you doing here? It's nine!"

"Chief, we have substantial evidence to follow the route of the Death Eaters."

"This isn't a time to fool around, Malfoy. You've been on the case for a few months and only now that you find something?"

"Sir, three months and two weeks to be exact. But, Potter was helping me put the recent photographs together along with the old ones and against the London Map. Sir, they're attacking wizards and witches."

"WHAT?"

"I'm not lying, sir. Just look at this poem. It just means that the purebloods are attacking the muggles. Plus, I just found another photograph that Alfred sent over a week ago. It is written in the same handwriting and it's a cryptogram."

"They're attacking muggles? Are you out of your mind? That doesn't narrow it down a lot! There are millions of them in London itself!"

"Sir, I know this sounds rather hard to believe, but I have a feeling that they are attacking purebloods that married the muggles. Does that not narrow down by quite a fair bit? My cousin was a pureblood and married a muggle. She was killed four months ago, and the cause of death is still unknown. I know the muggle authorities said it was a car crash but I did identify her body. There was not one scratch on her. Plus, in the letter she wrote to me, she wrote: They would have come in the end, to take control of me. I write this with a heavy heart but I know that my time will be coming soon. Signs have been appearing, more frequently than ever. Do you not get it sir? The Death Eaters are making their way through London to kill purebloods who married muggles."

"Wasn't your cousin's death in America? What does America have to do with England?"

"She was related to me, that was enough. The Death Eaters see those who went against them, along with Potter, as enemies. What's worse is that I was a key figure in the Servants itself. I wasn't in the circle in the least but I was the one who planned the killing of the Headmaster, and I even let the Death Eaters into the school. I was given the Dark Mark after that night. I served Voldemort but I doubted myself. Why was I doing this? Eventually, it stopped. I told McGonagall and she promised to help me. After the war, after Potter had killed Voldemort, the Dark Mark disappeared. Blaise and Parkinson's families have either passed away or are in Azkaban, there is not reason to harm them. They aren't the ones that have become their enemies by helping in the war."

"Malfoy, you're too emotionally involved to be on the field. You'll be killing for revenge instead of justice. You got out to do this job and you'll end up slumped against a garbage bin in a deserted alley."

"Sir! Please! Let me do this case on my own! I promised to find the cause of my cousin's death, now that I have, I want to see to it that I bring those that caused so much harm to so many are sent to Azkaban."

"Malfoy, in four months, the Death Eaters have only killed four families, aren't they moving too slow for this whole 'process'?"

"Is killing four families humane, sir! Killing itself is an act of brutality. These four families match the area in which the Death Eaters had been, as followed by Alfred. Sir, today is Wednesday, give me tomorrow off to prepare everything and I'll leave on Friday. Surely you cannot say no."

"I can, Malfoy. Will you be doing this with Potter?"

"No sir, I need to settle this on my own."

"Ben! Are you ready?" Draco hollered up the steps. "Almost, uncle Draco! I just need to button my shirt," came the reply. "Buttons again?" Draco muttered under his breath and took the stairs three at a time. When he reached Ben's room, he saw Hermione looking at Ben in desperation. "Ben, you don't have to wear a button up shirt to go out with your uncle." Hermione fiddled with the buttons for a few seconds before Ben pushed her hands back. "No! I have to dress nicely," Ben informed her, "And I have to do it myself."

Draco had decidedly pulled out Ben from the muggle classes a few days ago after finding that Ben had been giving the same type of math for a few consecutive weeks. Ben had hardly spoken about anything interesting from school in months and only now did Draco know why. What's more, the teachers were uncertified ("I told you so," Hermione smirked). Now, Ben was helping around the house and given grammar and dictation on new words everyday with Hermione. She even taught him simple math, for a low fee of a galleon a week. It was more than Draco could ask for.

And now, Draco was bringing Ben out to Diagon Alley as a special treat for helping Hermione do the monthly spring-cleaning of the huge Manor yesterday. Right now, Draco was rethinking about bring Ben out. He had taken a good half an hour trying to eat his breakfast, being too excited about the trip, and now, at ten thirty-five, Ben was still trying to button his buttons.

"Oh, for the love of the heavens," Draco moaned and with a quick flick of his wrist, the buttons were speedily done up. "Uncle Draco," Ben whined and crossed his arms in front of him. "Ben, there's a lot of things to do today in Diagon Alley. Plus there won't be little girls for you to charm; it's too early. But to make it up to you, you get ten Knuts to spend on whatever you like in Diagon Alley. Alright?" Draco explained and pulled out his bag of coins, and withdrawing the bronze coins.

There was a quick change of mood in Ben's face as he took the coins and gave his uncle a hug. "He's a spoilt child, Malfoy," Hermione hissed when Ben went downstairs. "I know, but it's not everyday that I get to spend time with him," Draco muttered, and you. "Whatever it is, please remind me to buy some more Floo Powder and ink, oh yes, your owl needs more food and Crookshanks needs his medicine," Hermione suddenly remembered and listed the items with every finger.

"Write it down, Granger, or you'll end up buying pellets for your cat," Draco grinned and walked out of the room, leaving a very bemused Hermione behind.

The three of them reached Diagon Alley in no time. Draco first headed for the apothecary to get a large bag of Floo Powder, followed by heading to the dingy pet store to get food for his Instant-owl and medicine for Hermione's bandy legged orange fur ball. After that, he left Hermione browsing the new books at Flourish and Botts as he led Ben to the broomstick boutique where Ben promptly bought a minute figurine of Viktor Krum riding the latest series of broomsticks, the Equinox. When he went over to the bookstore again, Hermione had lined up in a long queue to buy some books. "See you over at the Weasley's," he yelled over the hubbub of the crowd, pointing to a sparkling orange and white spotted shop, painted black.

The sign hung merrily over the ever-expanding shop and already the shop was beginning to get crowded. The bell jingled as Draco pushed the door open and was immediately greeted by the two proud owners of the shop. "Malfoy," one quipped. "Weasley," Draco replied, surveying the two orange haired men in front of him. "Haven't seen you in a long time, since you got your owl actually," Fred (or was the George?) said and looked pointedly at the wands Draco held in his fist.

"Oh well, I see you've got new wallpaper," Draco shrugged, "No time to dawdle nowadays."

"When you have time, you can always get new wallpaper. Like it? Changes from purple to orange every few seconds."

"New creation then? Part of your interior design line?"

"Haha, Malfoy. But yes; new creation under "Irritate your Parents!" section. For the happy child who wants to make mummy go blind. We heard about you and Hermione."

"What about?"

"You hurt her and you'll be chopped into a million pieces and ground to fine powder."

"Join the club. Potter and your sister are already in line. Look, the Ministry is having a hard time right now, what with the sudden killing spree the supposed Death Eaters are supposed to be on. So all I can say is that I need some of your stuff as diversions, you will be helping the ministry."

"Those wands you're holding are going to cause you four galleons and two sickles. We'll knock off the five Knuts, but what you're looking for will cost you much more than that."

"Forget the prices, Weasley, what I need now is important. I'll pay you what your need, just name your price."

"Aren't you going to see what you need first?"

"Here's the list. I just need these out be this evening. I leave early morning," Draco handed a short list written in his neat handwriting and the twins looked at it. "Get the money ready," the said in unison, crisply.

Draco entered the dingy pub and looked around warily. He was in no mood to be spotted now. As he sat down in a dark corner of the pub, he pulled out a crumpled photograph. It simply read the venue and time, with a simple word at the end: purify. Alfred was going to need a pay rise. The Ministry was full of overworked and underpaid wizards. That had got to change. Draco looked at his watch on his wrist again. He had half an hour to kill before the meeting even started.

He looked at the seedy pub from his dark corner, watching the bartender wipe the filthy shot glasses with an even dirty and black cloth, then he turned his attention to the drinkers at the bar. At eleven, this place was dead. The few drinkers that sat at the bar had bottles in front of them, their faces turned towards the ancient radio.

And then, the heavy door swung open and a large man walked in whom Draco recognised immediately. Marcus Flint. His buzz cut was too long and unkempt, he had rings under his eyes, and his face looked pasty. His nose was crooked from the ferocious Bludger that had hit him in his last year as team captain of the Slytherins. Marcus mumbled a few words to the bartender before trudging to a small table for two, slouching. His drink came soon enough and Marcus downed half the bottle in one swig.

Another man came in soon after Marcus and sat shiftily down at the table with Marcus, taking the bottle from his hand, whispering harshly at the bigger man. Draco grinned; this was why he became an Auror. Pulling out a flesh coloured piece of string, he let it tail slowly, it slithering across to the floor until it came to the foot of the table where Marcus and the other man sat. Once it stopped, the string turned a dusty grey like the floor and stayed motionless. Draco plugged the other end of the string into his ear and thanked the Weasley twins for the creation. Immediately, the murmurs grew louder and the noise from the surrounding became subdued. All that Draco could hear was the conversation, and from what he heard, it wasn't going good.

"You're early, Flint," the shorter man snarled at Marcus, yet Marcus shrugged easily and replied, "Rather than late." Draco stuffed the string into his ear even further, and heard the snatches of conversations grow even louder. "Flint, can you not read the note? It said eleven thirty, and the minute hand has hardly reached the fourth mark. It's eleven eighteen now, Flint. Get that into your head, you thick baboon." At that, Flint snatched the bottle out from the shorter man's hand and glared hard at him. "You're not the one killing the muggle born. So don't you even try to belittle me. You're just following orders from Pettigrew," he spat. The shorter man cackled and Draco could almost see the maniacal glint in his eye.

"You really think Pettigrew has the brains for this job, eh Flint?" Marcus did not reply. "Guess what, Flint. Pettigrew's dead. He died before the killings even started. You haven't seen him around, have you? You really think he's alive and giving the orders to me? Think, you numb skull. Pettigrew hardly thought about the Dark Lord after he died. He says he's going to do something but he hasn't has he? For four bloody years, he tells us he's doing something. For four bloody long years we have to serve him hand and foot. For four bloody long years we don't do anything. We steal from the mudblood, we jinx and hex them, but let me tell you, there is so much more than that if Pettigrew wanted to avenge the Dark Lord.

"So I take over. Yes, me. Theodore Nott. The scrawny little boy from Hogwarts actually thinks this up," the man said snidely and Draco watched as Marcus tightened his grip around the bottle's neck, his knuckles white in the dark gloom. Theodore Nott watched as Marcus tried to comprehend what he had said moments earlier. And he thought he was one of the smarter ones.

The killings had been good. Slow, but good. Killing the Malfoy's cousin had been great. She had practically waltzed right up to them after watching her husband die from the cursed green flash. "Kill me now, and you'll find more than one person hunting you down," she had said simply. And then she was gone. Nott had laughed. Nobody had hunted him down swearing to kill him there and then. She was just an empty threat, but it felt good killing again, even if it wasn't him that did it.

Theodore always knew he was smart. After the Dark Lord had gone, incapable Pettigrew had taken over and Theodore knew his time was coming. Pettigrew grew forgetful, and he walked slowly. He never took any action, which angered Theodore. So when Pettigrew was alone, he struck and nobody saw him after that. Everybody just thought that it he was just taking orders from Pettigrew. Well, he was the one giving the orders.

It was a simply theory. Purification starts from the core. With tainted blood, who would want half-blood witches and wizards? They were incapable and useless. So they had to strike those who had betrayed their kind. Marry muggles? Are you kidding me? Theodore had laughed when he heard it. That was the most stupid thing he had ever heard. Muggles were pathetic and tried hard as possible to minimise energy output and increase productivity rate, but all they ended up doing was destroying the world with the chemicals they used. Bloody muggles were killing off the earth on which wizards lived on too. Why should we suffer when they were the ones who started it? He couldn't kill all the muggles that would mean killing seventy to eighty percent of the world population. He could do that later. Right now, he would just start off small, say; those who decided to taint themselves with bad blood?

So it started from there, Theodore thought. Killing the Malfoys was just the beginning. Now that he had exacted revenge for the Dark Lord on the ex-Death Eater, he wanted more. Draco Malfoy shouldn't even be recognised as a Death Eater. He didn't have the mark on him. He was still planning out failed attempts on killing the bumbling headmaster. To kill the headmaster would mean he would be the favourite of the Dark Lord. After that night, he was given the Dark Mark. And Theodore didn't even get his. He just fought against the Order. He wanted that mark. It meant that he was faithful to the Dark Lord. And bloody Malfoy gets that mark when he eventually betrays the whole circle, and joins the Order.

Revenge was a dish best served cold. And as Theodore stopped talking and passed a note over to Marcus, who immediately recognised and comprehended it, he nodded and looked pointedly at the smaller man. "Now?" He asked. Theodore shook his head and inclined it towards a dark corner where a man sat hunched up. "We have some business to settle tonight," He replied and pointed his wand towards the man. "Stupefy," he breathed, and Draco went out cold.

WOOTS. I apologise for not updating any earlier): I was really busy and I had tests on the first week back to school. Homework's piling up and I have really big commitments now, so please understand. I WILL be updating. Don't ever forget that. I've only been gone for twenty days. GASP.

If this chapter is not what you've expected, please write. I know it kind of veers away from relationships and everything else but it's an important chapter. You guys are probably disappointed that it isn't mushy stuff but I can tell you that I hate mushy stuff, so if you're into Hermione and Draco having sex every other chapter, please stop reading. The chapter has been titled after the poem by Wilfred Owen. It's a pretty humorous and morbid poem about the WWI in England, which I was studying in school and it just clicked when I put it into this chapter so it stays.

frostlily: HEY I'M NOT GONE :D haha! I'm still here and very much kicking, and I promise I'll update as regularly as I can. I like the lemon doughnuts. :x

Gucci83: Hey, thanks. I was looking back at my past chapters and all I can say is that I might have to go edit some parts. Some parts just don't seem up to standard anymore.

LadyJaye: Sorry I can't answer your question now but just keep reading yeah!

xxlightningboltxx: Fluff anymore and I'd just die from too much. Thanks for your support!

s.halliwell24: Relationships are beautiful things. Tense and new relationships are lovely to write, and Ginny's just trying to protect her best friend from having her heart broken again.

And to all the lovely people out there, a great big hug and a large THANK YOU for not giving up on this story, I will try to update as soon as I can, and basically just watch out for the next chapter :D Love you guys tons!