THE PERFECT STORY
by yeminquon

Disclaimer: Nope. Nope. And, what a surprise! Nope.

A/N: Well, I'm at school, and I'm not quite sure if we're supposed to be on here, but, nevertheless... I thought I'd post this super quick, considering I'm not getting anymore reviews anyway and I'm sure you guys don't mind. Lol. Chapter eight's looking good. I especially love the end. I think this chapter adds a bit of a twist, so you are forwarned. At the moment, I'm working on chapter eleven. I'm really excited about this story and I hope you guys do enjoy it and aren't just saying so to keep me happy. Lol. I'll stop blabbering so you can read. I give you- chapter eight!

CHAPTER EIGHT: SUICIDE QUEST

Kingsley Shacklebolt trudged up the stairs of Hogwarts School, his long black cloak sweeping across the stone floor. The great gargoyle loomed before him.

"Lemon drops," the ex-auror sighed, smiling softly at the candy password, which Minerva had continued although Dumbledore hadn't been headmaster for more than five years now. He waited as the revolving staircase brought him to the top, and then entered through the oak doors without bothering to knock.

An array of people stood around the room, some in chairs, others merely speaking softly to each other, all of which muted their voices as he stepped over the threshold. Minerva McGonagall sat at the desk, slightly greyer than when we saw her last. Molly Weasley, in all her forty-five years, ran up to him, eyes wide.

"Did you find anything?" She cried hysterically, grabbing his shoulders. "Do you know where she-"

Kingsley shook his head, his large gold earring slightly flapping. "I am sorry, my dear Molly... I do not know. Neither does anyone else."

"Oh, I simply cannot stand it!" she moaned, releasing Shacklebolt andflopping down in a chair. The rest of the company watched silently.

"I do not think, however," he continued, addressing this time the entirety of the room. "That Ginevra Weasley was taken out of the country. I need double time on the case. Search any Death Eater hideouts, and the like."

"It's your call, boss," replied Bill Weasley approvingly. "After all, you are the minister."

Kingsley nodded at the ceiling. He wasn't used to his new title. "Yes... Also, I need someone to go undercover."

"Oh?" asked Susan Bones from the corner, the secretary for the minister.

"Yes." Kingsley continued. "Someone close to Malfoy, who knows him and who he doesn't know is on our side. Someone who knows Malfoy Manor too."

"Yer no' thinkin'-" Hagrid began gruffly. "Even if someone di' fit tho' requiremen'...That would be suicide!"

"Depends. Whether or not Malfoy suspects anything."

"What, so you think my sister is at his manor?" Ron Weasley asked, sandwhiched between his wife and Bill.

"It's a possibility."

"Not a likely one," Minerva pointed out.

"But it's the best we've got," Kingsley answered gruffly. "So, see who you can find. And let me know when you find him."

The crowd nodded. Kingsley stepped out of the office abruptly, shaking his head. Somewhere- deep down- he felt that Ginny, as great and strong as she was, was already dead.

Hermione watched as Shacklebolt disappeared from the room. "Who then?" she asked. All heads swiveled over to face her.

It was quiet. "Probably someone from Slytherin... Houses always seemed to trust members more," Neville Longbottom, the Herbology professor, answered.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "So, who's still loyal to our side from that House? Not anyone really..."

Someone cleared their throat.

"Zabini's dead... Crabbe and Goyle are both Death Eaters... Ummm..." Hermione chewed on her bottom lip.

A slight cough was heard in the corner.

"Do you need a cough drop, Pans-" Luna Lovegood began, only to be cut off by Susan.

"Pansy Parkinson?" she asked increduously.

"Um, yeah," replied an indignant Pansy, who strutted out from the shadows. She wore a skimpy purple dress and tall purple stilletos. Her hair was longer and done up. Hermione tried to ignore how all the men in the room had seemed to stop breathing.

"So...Uh... What's the plan?" Pansy asked dimly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Someone needs to go grab Kingsley before he leaves Hogwarts castle first off."

Fred left the room immediately. Pansy slipped into a chair dramatically. Moments later, steps were heard outside the doors. Ron rushed over to open them.

"You got a one then?" Kingsley panted. George pointed to the damsel in the chair. Kingsley smiled. "Ah, Pansy Parkinson, Junior Director of Muggle Relations..."

"Sir," Pansy sighed. "I'm an Obliviator."

"Right, right you are," he sighed. "All right. Are you sure Malfoy doesn't know you're on our side?"

Pansy fluttered her eyelashes. "Dude," she answered stiffly, smacking on her gum. "He thinks I'm dead."


Preview of Chapter Nine:

"But how can you disappoint him if he's dead?" Draco pointed out. Bellatrix drew out her wand as if she had expected this and muttered the terrible curse Draco had inflicted upon Ginny just the day before. "Crucio!"

YQ