Chapter 7: Old "Friends"
I couldn't believe what Harry had suggested, but at the same time I knew it was really my only option if I didn't want my trip to America to be broadcasted to the world.
That didn't mean I had to like it. When I looked at Harry I could tell he didn't like the idea any more than I did, but it really was the best one.
Our American fan club consisted of a handful of overzealous MACUSA workers, members of the Magical Congress of the United States of AMerica. As a whole America and Americans fascinated me, but our "fan club" was a bit jarring. They "knew" every detail about us and the battle, so much so that they had spoken to Harry, Ron, and me as if they had been there during the war. They also had "information" about events that had never actually happened. I could only imagine what their sources were.
But Harry was right; they were the best way to get me to America discretely, even if their hero worship made me uneasy.
I heaved a sigh, exaggerating it to make Harry feel a tad bit more guilty. "You're right," I admitted. Then I paused a moment before letting a malicious smile slip free. "But it would look entirely too suspicious if I reached out to them only weeks before they summon me to America. That means I can't open communication with them."
It was Harry's turn to groan. "I deserve that."
"Yes, you do," I said promptly. "I believe Hazel would be eager and able to help you."
Harry visibly paled a bit, recalling his past interactions with that particular woman that admired him so… violently.
Feeling slightly guilty, as a peace offering I said, "Well, let's go kill Draco Malfoy."
Harry grinned just as widely as he would have when we were at Hogwarts. While neither of us now bore any ill will towards Malfoy, there was something exciting about faking the death / disappearance of our once enemy.
We discussed the idea in depth, debating whether we should make the trail appear completely cold or if we should fake some evidence of his death. I was a fan of the latter idea, because people were much less persistent when searching for a corpse. Harry argued that I was the only person searching for Malfoy, but I didn't want my role to be taken over as soon as all the aurors came back to work.
When I had brought Harry around to my side we then debated what "evidence" I should "find" and how we should go about it all. It all felt rather conspiratory to me, but it was a comfortable feeling. It helped that I felt confident in my ability to fabricate Malfoy's death. After all, despite all of Harry's efforts the department really hadn't changed that much since the days of Peter Pettigrew being declared legally dead after finding his finger.
I left Harry grimacing as he penned his letter to Hazel, our "friend" that worked for MACUSA's Bureau of International Affairs. It was quite the job as I understood it, as MACUSA didn't work in conjunction with the American government. Therefore, it was their job to make sure that wizards followed all muggle rules upon entering America, but they also had their own hoops for visitors to jump through. I had been to America within the past year, so I wouldn't have to register my wand or renew my passport, but I was only planning on staying there during business hours, so I would have to get two apparating licenses, one for in-country apparation, one for international apparation.
It was already a giant migraine, but it just might help me save a few lives, including Draco Malfoy's.
After working my way through my own veritable mountain of paperwork, I was ready to apparate home and collapse in my bed and stay there for a year. Before I finished gathering everything I was taking home, though, a knock sounded at the door of my office.
My head whipped up, and I found the lanky form of Blaise Zabini at my door.
I glanced out the window, searching rather intently. "Are pigs flying? Because Blaise Zabini just knocked on my door instead of barging in with his newest rant or demand."
"Oh, shut it Granger," Blaise said with a flash of his white smile. "I wasn't sure how hex-happy you would be once you joined the Aurors."
Blaise was joking like he normally would, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. With a wave of my wand I shut the door, that simple action activating a multiplicity of wards I'd discreetly set up in my office.
"Talk to me Zabini. Your newfound courtesy is alarming," I said gently.
"I will be offended over that later, Granger," he said as an attempt at levity. "But I hear as an auror you've been assigned to a very specific case." When I didn't reply Blaise asked, "Are you searching for Draco?"
My eyes locked with his. "I think we had better sit down." After we had both done so, I took a deep breath. "I know you know about the confidentiality laws, but I also know that Malfoy is your friend, and you wouldn't go spouting off to a reporter or some such nonsense. Yes, I'm looking for Malfoy."
Blaise let out a slow breath. "Thank Merlin they assigned someone who will actually give a-"
"Language," I warned.
He coughed. "Right. Anyway, if I can ever help you, please let me know, please Granger."
"I won't hesitate, not with your best friend on the line," I assured him.
Blaise looked pensive, like he was too nervous to ask something. It was a foreign expression on his face that usually wore confidence that bordered on arrogance. "Have… Have you found anything one way or another?"
Seeing Blaise's agonized face I debated heavily with myself. Malfoy wished for the whole investigation to be a secret, but I had total faith in Blaise. We had worked together for years, and I knew Malfoy would trust him with his life.
"Zabini, you know none of this," I said. "Short of Legilimency, there should be no way that anyone hears any of what I'm about to say." Our eyes locked and Blaise swallowed before giving me the briefest of nods.
Taking a deep breath, I said, "Malfoy is alive."
A/N: This is a little project to improve my writing, let others read it. Please leave feedback! Thanks for reading!
