Chapter Four: The Galleon Grabbers.
He was at the Leaky Cauldron that night, perfectly on time. The inside of the pub was stifling and packed with people, which was pretty unusual. They talked and laughed, clinking glasses and spilling butterbeer all over themselves.
He felt very out of place, wandering through the throng completely sober with clean robes and a grim expression. He didn't seem suited for the merry twinkle of the lights and the joyous atmosphere. It was the Three Broomsticks all over again.
He almost felt like turning back, but he wouldn't let himself do it.
Instead, he fought his way to the bar, where he saw the owner of the pub, Tom, feverishly pouring drink after drink with a delighted smile on his face. Draco was quite sure he hadn't had this much business in years.
He spotted Blaise, dark eyes flashing, talking in a low voice to a witch he recognized. The blonde one he'd seen with Ginny at the Three Broomsticks.
"Ah! Malfoy!" Blaise called loudly when he spotted him a moment later. A few heads turned in Draco's direction, including that of the witch, who smiled broadly at him.
"We almost didn't think you were coming. You're fifteen minutes late. You! Make room for Malfoy. He deserves to sit down." Blaise bawled at a person Draco recognized as Reynolds. The old man glowered at Blaise, but he gave him such a withering, angry expression that Reynold's face contorted into one of almost fear, and he rose, gesturing towards his stool for Draco to sit down.
He did, feeling slightly confused. Why was Reynolds, who was taller and definitely more skilled than Blaise, cowering so easily?
He watched the old man's head of gray hair disappear slowly into the crowd of people. The blonde witch muttered something in Blaise's ear, smiled winningly at Draco, and then followed Reynolds, almost immediately being enveloped by the pack of wizards. Draco turned back to Blaise, who was watching him like a cat watches a mouse hole.
"This place is packed tonight." Draco remarked, looking causally around himself. He got the feeling he shouldn't show how suspicious of Blaise he truly was. "It is. These are all friends of mine, actually." Said Blaise quietly.
"You were always popular at Hogwarts." Draco said, trying not to sound bitter. He wished that he had a giant crowd of friends to surround himself with.
"Not as popular as you, what was your title again? The Slytherin Sex God?" Blaise laughed. It sounded slightly forced.
Draco grinned despite himself. Why contradict the truth? "Yeah, I think that was it." They both laughed this time.
"So who's birthday is it?" He asked curiously before turning to Tom and ordering a butterbeer. There was no way he was going to get hammered in Zabini's presence. He could very well be robbed, and he was not going to have Zabini of all people wandering around with Draco's own Galleons in his pocket.
"Birthday?" Blaise asked, still smiling, his eyes blank for half a second. "Oh! Right. Well, it's the daughter of a friend of mine. She's turning seven." He said airily. Draco raised his brows, thoroughly surprised. "Seven? Isn't she a bit young for this sort of party?" He asked as he spotted a couple kissing passionately on a nearby table.
"Ah, Alice? She's very mature for her age." He scoffed. Draco shrugged, letting the matter drop.
Tom had returned, and he set butterbeer down on the counter loudly before hurrying off to assist the many witches and wizards who were clamoring for drinks all around them .
As Draco lifted his drink, Blaise snorted. "Butterbeer? Are you fifteen? Bring us some real alcohol, Tom. I know firewhiskey is Malfoy's favorite." Blaise tossed a handful of shiny Galleons onto the bar, making Draco's eyes pop out of his skull. Even he didn't have that kind of money anymore. No wizard did. The war had taken a chunk out of every fortune, and half the rich Slytherin families were in Azkaban.
Tom took the money carefully, a blissful gleam in his eyes, and then nodded, leaving them alone once again.
"Butterbeer seems fine for everyone else. Why am I different?" Draco asked curtly, taking a few gulps from his own bottle. Blaise shrugged. "These fools don't know how to drink." He said quietly. " You and I should be different, considering our backgrounds. Personally, I prefer wine, but this place isn't classy enough to carry what I like." He spat.
"Mmn." Draco grunted. He'd never cared for Blaise's complaints about "class", then again, no one ever had. At Hogwarts he used to get an earful at breakfast, lunch, and dinner of how poor the food was or how tasteless the decorations in the Slytherin common room were. Sometimes there were even complaints about the castle decor itself. Blaise had one time remarked on how terribly rusty and disgusting the suits of armor were, and they'd been chased up three flights of stairs before Professor Flitwick had saved them with an extremely fancy joint-rusting charm that froze them in place.
He still felt like kicking Blaise in the stomach when he thought of the two of them cowering behind tiny Professor Flitwick. Pansy Parkinson had laughed until she'd had to go to the infirmary for hyperventilating.
Apparently nothing had changed with his old House-mate in the way of snobbishness.
"So who was that blonde witch?" Draco asked, his eyes darkening with interest. Blaise smirked knowingly. "Does the Sex God crave a new wench?" He asked, a bit sharply. Draco returned his smirk with three times the audacity. "Maybe. Maybe not." He said, shrugging.
"Well, if you are, her name is Jane Wormwood, she's from the United States...North Carolina, I think? And she's lonely. Her long-term boyfriend died recently and she's grieving." He said, almost in sing-song. Draco's smirk deepened. "Tempting. Tempting." He muttered, leaning back on his stool. He felt almost like himself again, how he was supposed to be. The dashing, charming young Malfoy. He was soon finished with his butterbeer without really even realizing it, because he'd been using it as an excuse to peer over the top and watch a few select witches that had caught his eye, including Jane, who got prettier and prettier as the bottle slowly drained.
However, when he lifted it to his lips and found not a drop of liquid left and he could no longer casually stare at girls, he felt a pang of guilt in his stomach that took a moment for him to analyze.
Unbidden, Ginny rose into his thoughts. All stubbornness and fire, with her sharp tongue and clever mind. All of the plans he'd thought about and toyed with, all of the ways to win her heart, all of the times he hadn't had the courage to talk to her at the Leaky Cauldron, though he'd been going there every Friday just to see her for a month. He wondered for the millionth time why he'd never noticed her before the Christmas party. He'd had so many chances, there had been moments when they'd been quite alone in the long corridors between classes, and he'd merely thought things like God her hair is weird. Who has hair like that? It's distracting. Unnatural. Or Ugh. It's that Weasley girl. I hope she doesn't say anything to me with that whiny stupid voice of hers.
Oh, if only he'd known what she would mean to him! He could have had her, he could have kept her from Potter-
He pushed these thoughts from his mind, determined to have a good time and nearly as determined to forget her.
Tom helped him with this by arriving with their firewhiskey, which Draco gladly accepted.
"So Draco, how are old Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy?" Blaise asked as Draco took a long drink. Draco thought a moment. Alive, as far as he knew. This tiny thought sent a shiver of unease down his spine, but again he refused to think about it.
"Good. Father's back at work and everything now, we avoided Azkaban." He said bluntly, letting Blaise know that this was not a good topic to pursue.
Apparently he didn't pick up on the message. "Really? Did you lose allot of fortune?" Blaise asked. "My mother and me suffered some, but not too much." He explained when Draco's eyes became wary, "I was just wondering if you had any trouble."
Always wealth with Zabini.
"We lost maybe half of everything we had, but we've earned some back. We're still the fourth wealthiest vault in Gringotts, by any means." He said pompously, feeling his ancient family pride rising to the challenge in Blaise's tone. However, Blaise just looked back at him with carefully innocent black eyes that had been wiped clean of all emotion. "Good...good." He said nodding in appreciation and then preceding to drain his glass. Draco felt himself tense up, and he gave Blaise a sideways glance, deciding to do the same. Tom seemed to appear out of thin air, and the glasses were soon refilled. Draco began to drink again without paying attention, still staring out of the corner of his eye at Blaise. What was he up to?
"I THINK IT'S TIME WE TOAST THE BIRTHDAY GIRL!" A slightly slurred voice shouted.
"What a good idea!" A red-faced witch cried. She was so tipsy that she had to hang on to a very disgruntled looking wizard's arm, and her hair, which was Indian straight and the deepest shade of burgundy Draco had ever seen, had come free of it's pins and now straggled across her face.
She looked slightly familiar, and he had a fleeting glimpse of a tall wizard and this very witch waltzing around the room. However, an entire glass of firewhiskey and a bottle of butterbeer had numbed his brain a bit, and he couldn't examine the image for very long before it was gone.
"Yes, let's bring my little Alice up!" The witch hiccuped, turning and looking back through the crowd. It parted significantly, and Draco peered around the witch and wizard, only to have his glass slip from his hand and crash to the floor, spraying firewhiskey everywhere, his one evening of fun burned to a crisp and thoroughly destroyed.
A.J., her round little face as grim and hostile as he'd seen in the photograph, was walking right towards them.
Everyone had backed away from Draco, allowing Tom to scurry forward and mutter Reparo before mopping up the liquid and, with a shrug and a chuckle that Draco didn't return, refilling Draco's glass.
Shock soon faded to adrenaline, and instinct sparked in his mind.
He had to get out of there, he had to tell Potter-
He felt the book slap against his hip from its position in his pocket as he shifted on his stool to get a better look at A. J.
He had a quill tucked inside of it. If he could get out of the pub without causing a scene...
A.J. reached them, looking thoroughly bored and unhappy. She had the soft brown eyes of a puppy, and they were very grim.
"Do I have to?" She asked the red-headed witch, her little voice impatient and exasperated. The witch was suddenly fierce. "Alice Johanna, don't be a stick-in-the-mud and ruin everyone's good time. That's not how I raised you. Besides," She said, waving her arms in a grand gesture, "all of this is for your birthday."
A. J. Looked thoughtful for a moment, but then unhappiness settled again on her round face.
Draco felt sympathetic for the girl, but he was too busy coming up with an excuse to leave to really pay attention as Blaise lifted her onto the bar, and whistled loudly to get everyone's attention. Silence fell immediately, and they all looked up at him with eager eyes.
It would be too obvious to leave now. He'd have to wait until the toast was over.
"A toast," Blaise said, raising his glass, "To Miss Alice Johanna Fredricks on her seventh birthday, among other things." He smiled widely. "And to her beautiful mother, Vanessa, for giving us such a talented child." He looked down at Vanessa, who was blushing a deeper red than her hair, if that was possible. Blaise clinked his glass with her, and everyone did the same with the people closest to them so that it sounded like someone was smashing a china emporium inside of the Leaky Cauldron. Draco did this unwillingly with Jackie, who was beet red and giggling hysterically.
Blaise patted A.J. on the back as she climbed off the bar, looking very embarrassed. She glanced up at him with an imploring expression, and he nodded just slightly. A sudden grin broke across her face, lighting it up like a Christmas tree, and she darted off. Draco's gray eyes followed her tiny form as she bounced around the legs of the party guests, reminding him of a rabbit running through a forest.
How did Blaise know A.J.? Was he part of the cult? Was she, anyway, or was Potter mistaken? Draco thought of every single suspicious little thing Blaise had done that night and decided that he would tell Harry everything. He might resent him for having Ginny, but that boggart had made something clear to him. As long as she was safe, he could bide his time. And he had to keep her safe.
"Excuse me, Blaise." He said casually, quickly finishing his firewhiskey(which seared his throat horribly) and beginning to walk towards the door. It was harder than he wanted it too be, and his feet felt oversized. Blaise caught him on the shoulder. "Hey! Where are you going?" He asked, rather firmly. Draco gritted his teeth, put an easy smile on his face, and turned back to him. "I have work tomorrow. Have to sleep." He said with a shrug.
"You can't stay for just a while longer?" Blaise asked, "You've only been here three hours."
Draco shook his head, thinking about everything he would tell Harry. "No, I don't think so. See you later, Blaise." He began to walk again, but a person had appeared before him so quickly it seemed she had Apparated.
"Leaving so soon?" Jane Wormwood asked him. She was twirling a strand of honey-blonde hair coquettishly around her finger and batting her lids subtly. Her voice was a bit high and excited, and on top of that she was swaying slightly on her feet, sp oe assumed she was tipsy, just like every other person here. Hell, just like himself.
She was eyeing him in a way that made it clear it would be hell to get away from her.
Jane was very pretty up close, but pretty in the way that a pixie was pretty, with a tiny sharp nose and strangely slanted eyes. Not exactly his type. Briefly, there was a swirl of red hair flashing in his mind.
"I have work tomorrow." Draco said, trying to sound firm and uninterested, though that was a lie. He was interested, in some ways.
"Mm." She said, leaning forward slightly and wobbling as she did so. She smelled like ginger cookies and expensive perfume. He wanted to step back, and was going to, but she caught his head in her hands and kissed him. It stunned him into stillness, and he automatically began kissing her back. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he couldn't break away. There were a few whoops and a shout or two, and he thought he heard some whistling, but it was all distant and far away.
He hadn't kissed a girl in months, and he'd forgotten how much he liked it. Jane was soft and sweet, yes, there was nothing bad about this. Potter, His mind shouted, murders, the cult, A.J., eighty people dead, Not now. Please not now. She had pressed herself against his chest, and he had his hands wrapped in her long hair.
People are being murdered and you're kissing girls who you barely know! The part of his brain that was still sober screamed in outrage. There hadn't been anymore deaths lately, the firewhiskey reasoned.
What about Ginny? What about Mum and Dad?
This broke Jane and Draco's lips apart. He stared at her for a minute, feeling ashamed of himself. Her eyes were half closed, and she was leaning on him for support. "Why did you stop?" She asked in a purr.
The real world flooded in again, and he felt cold. He'd actually seen a suspect, which was more than the entire Ministry had done, and he had wasted all of his time. A.J. might have left. She had seemed happy to go.
He felt sick to his stomach.
But maybe she wasn't gone. Maybe he still had a chance to redeem himself.
Just as he was about to run for the door, it was blown open by a jet of red light that smashed it to splinters.
Aurors and Hit Wizards swarmed into the building in a giant mass of black cloaks and flying curses. Draco ducked, shouting in surprise, pulling Jane with him. She screamed, covering her head with her hands.
Draco looked around, stunned, as people began to duel, tables exploded into shards of wood, and shouts of fury and fear rang through the air. There was a deafening series of pops as wizards and witches Apparated out of the building, disappearing into thin air.
The Aurors and Hit Wizards ran forward in a herd of thundering feet, overtaking as many people as possible with full-body bind curses and cries of Stupefy! And Petrificus Totalus!
The world was a hazy mess that he could not make sense of, there were so many bangs and screams and swears, so many hands and feet that he could do little more than crouch on the floor and pray he wasn't stepped on.
The lights went out, throwing everything into darkness, the only light coming from the streams of pink, gold, and red that shot across the room. One spell came so close to his ear he could feel the heat wafting from it.
A sudden shout rang out over the chaos, and the fighting ceased so abruptly it was though someone had hit a switch. The light flickered back on, illuminating the ravaged Leaky Cauldron. The windows were broken, the tables were smashed, the floor had a few smouldering holes that glowed with hot embers. Bits of wood and glass were everywhere, including in Draco's hair and robes. Jane was nowhere to be seen, but neither were any of the other witches and wizards that had been in the Leaky Cauldron. Draco wondered how they could Apparate out of a full-body bind curse, and didn't think it was possible.
He realized he was trembling, he tried to steady himself before anyone noticed.
The shout had come from Harry Potter, who sat in the middle of the tarnished building in a circle of ash and glass, his robes torn and tattered, his hair singed. He was crouched over a limp form, the lifeless body of an old man. "Tom!" He said, shaking the man's shoulder, his voice hoarse. Draco felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.
Tom did not move. His head was turned towards Draco, who could see his face. The man's eyes were blank, and a deep cut still dripped blood on his forehead. "Tom..." Harry said again in a whisper.
Tom was dead, it was plain to see, but like Harry Draco didn't want to believe it.
"Who aimed to kill?" Harry asked in a furious hiss, whirling on the Aurors and the Hit Wizards, who were somehow already bunched in an orderly cluster behind Draco. A few of them had injuries, and all of them had badly singed robes, but none of them stepped forward. They all continued to stare at Harry.
Harry's eyes were full of tears, and he was shaking violently, as though he stood in a strong wind. "WHO HERE," He shouted, his green eyes snapping with fire, "AIMED TO KILL?" He had jumped to his feet. "HAVE WE NOT HAD ENOUGH DEATH? HAVE WE NOT HAD ENOUGH LIVES SACRIFICED TONIGHT?!" He shrieked. "REMEMBER THE REASON WE'RE HERE! REMEMBER WHY THIS HAD TO BE DONE!" He cried, glaring at every face in turn.
"Harry," A voice said, and Neville Longbottom stepped out of the hoard of wizards, his arm dripping blood, his black hair rumpled and greasy as though he hadn't washed it in days. "Calm down. I'm sure it was an accident-"
"IT WASN'T AN ACCIDENT!" Harry howled, his breathing ragged.
"Harry!" Draco turned in shock, accidently shoving his hand into a pile of glass shards. Pain jolted up his fingers and fire spread across his palm, and he felt hot blood seep across his skin. But he didn't care.
Ginny rushed forward, a deep cut across her cheek gleaming. She walked with a severe limp, and every time she took a step she bit her lip and paled. He wanted to scoop her up and just hold her, just stop her from having to move and hurt herself.
However, he had no right to any of these feelings. Jane Wormwood had made it very clear that he didn't care about Ginny as much as he thought he had.
Draco got to his feet, fighting the urge to help her, hating himself as he watched her limp piteously towards Harry, who made no move to walk forward and save her the pain. His eyes were wide and shattered, almost childlike.
There was silence as Ginny hobbled forward, her face growing pinker and pinker the longer it took her to move.
Finally, when she stood over top of Tom's body, she stopped. "No one tried to kill him. I don't believe that any of our Aurors, or our Hit Wizards would do that." She said loudly, looking up at Harry so that Draco was forced to stare at the back of her head. He could only imagine her expression, loving, caring, her eyes wide and desperate. He knew she was pleading with Harry, trying to get him to keep calm. She knew as well as Draco did that the Head Auror couldn't have a mental breakdown on a crime scene and still keep his respect, much less his post.
Even after everything that had happened, it was like Christmas had come early, seeing her on a day that wasn't Friday. He hoped that, secretly, this meant that he'd get to see her twice that week. It was a glorious, wonderful thought.
Ginny turned to look back at the tattered group of wizards, her brown eyes resting on every face in turn until she got to Draco's. He wasn't sure, but something seemed to spark in the dark depths. "Everyone here tonight was just trying to shut down the Galleon Grabbers, none of us succeeded, though we all fought bravely. Tom was probably lost to a stray spell from one of the enemy's wands." She said evenly.
Behind her, Harry wore a thoughtful expression. He made his way to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
"Ginny is right. I-I shouldn't have erupted like that. It wasn't professional. I'm-I'm sorry." Harry said earnestly. Everyone nodded, and a few people smiled. Draco was not one of them. He was looking at Ginny. She was pale and grim-faced, her skin sallow and her eyes dull. So different than the last time he'd seen her.
"Now, team," Said Harry briskly, his voice becoming authoritative. "The Prophet is going to want to know all about this, especially after what happened at the Estelle mansion. We're not going to be able to keep that out of the news, but I do appreciate how well you've managed to cover up the evidence. I want everything to be kept as quiet as possible, because if people panic..." Harry shuddered for effect.
"However, we can keep this down to a minimum if we work quickly. So, lets clean everything up, call the coroner, and I'll need to talk to anyone who thinks they got a good look at a suspect. Kingsley will want to know, and we need to confirm who is in this gang, and who's not. Also, if any objects relating to the criminals are found, please preserve them so that we can analyze them." Harry clapped his hands, releasing Ginny's shoulders.
"Alright. Let's get to work. Also, if anyone needs medical attention, I'll contact the Healers at St. Mungos." He said.
He muttered something in Ginny's ear, and she answered softly "No, no. I'll be fine."
When no one stepped forward to display their injuries(though many walked with limps or winced when they moved a certain way), Harry declared that they needed to get started immediately. Draco thought fleetingly of his hand, which was dripping blood and throbbing like there was no tomorrow. Still, he wouldn't be the man who forced the Healers out of bed to remove some glass.
Though Harry urged Ginny to at least let someone take her home, she vehemently refused, saying that her mother and father would question her until she went mad. However, she was still too injured to do any work what so ever.
So she was set on a rickety chair that a Reparo spell had managed to reconstruct and propped in a corner, an angry-faced little statue watching the Aurors and Hit Wizards inspect the Leaky Cauldron, clean up the carnage, move Tom's body to the back to wait for the coroner, and interview each other. Draco knew he had to report A.J. to Harry, but the thought of talking to Ginny alone was too perfect to pass up. And besides, he wanted to know what the hell had happened at the Estelle mansion(what ever that was), and how Harry had known to come here, and why in God's name was Ginny here. That was the main question. She was going to try out for the Holy Head Harpies, and he knew that she practiced day and night for it. She didn't work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and she had no business being involved in this. He was going to get some answers.
So Draco, as inconspicuously as possible, crossed the room, weaving through the workers and picking up bits of conversation. "I don't know how we'll keep it quiet-" "So much blood and vomit you'd think-"
"Hit Wizards and Aurors, I can't believe-"
"All for money-"
"So much waste-"
He barely listened.
When she saw him coming, Ginny tensed up, staring straight ahead.
"Ginger." He said, sitting down beside her. Though he didn't do a damn thing with it, his hand lit up in flames of agony.
"Please call me Ginny, Malfoy." Ginny spat in response. Her voice was cold.
"What are you doing here?" He asked bluntly, deciding to cut to the point.
Ginny didn't look at him. "Why do you care?" She hissed. Why was she so cross with him? What had he done?
"Just tell me." He said curtly.
Ginny turned her head, her face contorted in anger. There was a tear in the corner of her eye. "I came with Harry and everyone else. I'm not a child, Malfoy. I can handle more than people give me credit for." She shifted so that she could stare deep into his eyes. She was livid.
"How much do you know about what's going on? How much has Harry told you?" She asked, searching his face. There was definite hurt in her voice.
It hit Draco like a ton of bricks. Harry hadn't told her anything about what was happening. Like the rest of the Wizarding World, he had kept her in the dark.
And Potter's little kitten had found out about it anyway. He felt a surge of warmth when he looked at her outraged face, and he knew he was horrible for the joy he felt when he saw the heartbreak in her eyes, but once again he didn't care.
"Just that eighty people have been killed and that it's getting worse every day." Draco said softly, answering her question. Ginny hid her sniffle with a yelp of curt laughter. "Make that two hundred and eighty." She spat.
Draco felt the shock on his face, and he felt his stomach churn jarringly. "God." He whispered.
Ginny looked at her, and her expression softened. "It happened around nine o' clock. There was a Christmas party at the Estelle mansion- you remember Rebecca Estelle?" Ginny asked. Draco shook his head. "She was in school with us. A very wealthy Ravenclaw, kind of a snob if I'm to be honest. Her parents got rich in the broomstick business, her father invented some of the biggest titles of all time. Anyway, they had about one hundred and ninety-five people over, and they were eating this gigantic feast when the first one vomited blood and dropped dead."
Ginny looked grave, and her face was the color of skim milk. "The whole family was killed- father, mother, Rebecca, and her two little sisters Prudence and Frieda. All the guests died.
Someone had gotten the time of the party horribly wrong- they arrived to find everyone dead in heaps."
"So the poison is working faster now?" Draco asked quickly, swallowing the sour bile that rose in his throat. "Before it took weeks to kill-"
"It was slower?" Ginny asked, the heat of anger returning to her voice. "So that's one more thing I didn't know." She glared pointedly at Harry, but he was too busy talking to a group of grim-faced Aurors to notice.
"How did Harry know they were here?" Draco asked, still dry-mouthed, his palms beginning to sweat.
"A shopkeep Harry knows recognized one of the suspects in his shop and was able to figure out that they were going to the Leaky Cauldron through some tricky conversation. The suspect was talking with another woman about 'Family E', mind you that this was just an hour after the Estelle's had been discovered and the shopkeep had no idea what had happened, but he wrote Ron immediately." Ginny said.
It was the first suspect we've seen. A little girl, he said. Can you imagine? A child being involved in all of this." Ginny shook her head in disgust. A.J. Draco realized, and then, with another pang, everything became frighteningly clear, as though a dark sheet had just been pulled away to reveal the horrible truth. This had been a celebration for the murders, and almost everyone there had to have been in the gang. Including Blaise, Jane, Jackie, Reynolds, every single person he'd seen.
And for some reason or another, Blaise had asked him to come. Maybe to poison him? They'd never been very kind to each other, and Draco hadn't been paying very much attention. It would have been so easy to slip some potion into his drink He shuddered, and wondered if he would end up vomiting all over the floor and dying before he could tell Harry anything. He wouldn't take that chance.
"Excuse me, Ginger." He said, rising to his feet, determined to tell Harry everything he knew.
"Yeah. Bye." She muttered, not bothering to correct him on her name.
Harry was in Tom's room, talking to the coroner, who was an old, gloomy-faced man with gray hair and a thick white mustache. Tom was lying peacefully in his bed behind the two, his arms folded across his chest.
"Potter, I think I have some information for you." Draco said quickly.
Harry's eyes lighted slightly, and he excused himself, grabbing Draco harshly by the arm and pulling him into an empty bedroom. He shut the door behind them with a clap, and then turned back to Draco. The room was almost completely dark, save a candle flickering on the window sill, and all Draco could see of Harry Potter was the flash of orange light on his glasses.
"What is it?" Harry asked quickly.
"You need to rule out suspects, right?" Draco asked.
Harry nodded, or at least, Draco thought he did.
"I can tell you that Vanessa Fredricks, A.J. Fredricks, Blaise Zabini, Reynolds, Jacqueline Williams, and Jane Wormwood were all here tonight. I'll gladly look at the list and check to see if they fit."
Harry seemed stunned. "Blaise Zabini?" He said in astonishment, and then he growled "Of course. He'd love a gang like this."
"So it's officially a gang, then?" Draco asked, feeling idiotic. Who cared what it was?
"Yes, at least, that's what we assume, especially after the crowd we saw tonight. They're called the Galleon Grabbers, unofficially, by the Ministry, because we've finally found our pattern. They're after money." Harry declared, seeming vaguely proud of himself.
"That's it?" Draco asked incredulously, "it took you this long to figure that out? They're after rich wizards?" He felt thoroughly frustrated and impatient. Harry's brow furrowed, and he gritted his teeth. "It hasn't been exactly easy, Malfoy." He spat. "The families they attacked didn't all seem very wealthy, but there was always some stitch that the Ministry missed. One family had a secret trunk of gigantic diamonds buried under their house that no one knew about. Another had an incredibly wealthy aunt that was constantly on the run from the law, but, if she died, the oldest child in the family would inherit all of her money. Odd things that only family members could know, but all of them involving a fortune. Which brings me to the most disturbing part..." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Hermione has a theory. Almost every one of these families has an outcast child or family member that didn't fit the mold, but knew where these fortunes were stashed, had access to the fortunes, or would inherit the fortune when a relative passed away. For instance, the Estelles had Michael, who abandoned the family to marry a girl they didn't approve of. He's been living badly down in London for a while now. Hermione thinks that these people have become spiteful, and are joining the gang for glory, money, and revenge." Harry sounded even more exhausted then he had at the cavern.
Draco raised his brows, thoroughly impressed with Hermione. She'd found all that out in the three days that Draco had been back in the Wizarding World. "How did Granger find all of that out?" He asked.
Harry smiled broadly. "She finally got all of the family records she needed and pieced everything together. Worked for a solid seventy-two hours, but she cracked the code. Of course, this is all just her theory, but knowing Hermione it's rock-solid." Draco could hear the grin in Harry's voice.
"But wait..." Draco said in confusion, "why would they kill everyone in the Estelle mansion if they just wanted the family dead?"
Harry sighed. "I don't know. I think it was the easiest way to make sure the job got done." He said, his voice hollow. "Accuracy didn't seem to be a problem before." Draco mused. "Well...I don't think the person doing this job was very accurate. And I think there was a reason behind that. Malfoy, I think...I think this might have been an initiation. That, or someone's proving something. The job was just so thoroughly done, so gruesome and terrible, I think someone was trying to be impressive." Harry said.
Draco considered this. "Maybe." He allowed.
"So we do we know enough to shut them down now?" Draco asked hopefully. Harry said nothing for a moment, and Draco thought he heard a creaky breath. "No. We don't know how many people are in the gang, and we don't know where their headquarters is, or even where they could hide without having been spotted by now. We also don't know how they're poisoning people so efficiently, or how they've managed to evade us like this.
"Every Auror and Hit Wizard on duty swarmed this place tonight, and we didn't catch a single person." Harry sounded thoroughly stumped. He looked suddenly up at Draco, his brows raised. "Why are you here tonight?"
"Blaise invited me out for drinks." Draco answered smoothly. Harry suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him violently. "What did he say!" He shouted. Draco jumped back in surprise, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
"Nothing, Potter! Jesus Christ. He just asked me about the manor, and of course the fort-"
Draco broke off mid-sentence, and he felt every ounce of warmth drain from his body. Sweat rose on his face, and he felt his mouth pop open.
"He wanted you to join." Harry said sagely, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "He probably wants to use you to finish off your parents. Rumors have been going around, you know. That you abandoned them."
Draco swallowed with difficulty as the full weight of the situation settled in his chest and filled his mind. "I'll have to go back to the manor." He said hoarsely. "I don't want anything to happen to them. I have to p-prove to Blaise that the rumors are false."
"Could you manage to do it tomorrow? I'd like you to go over the suspect list and confirm who's in and who's undecided."
Draco nodded, then, realizing Harry couldn't see him in the darkness, muttered "Sure. Yeah."
He wondered how soon he could return home, and how he could manage to do that. He'd left for a reason, but now that reason seemed insignificant. He didn't want to see the ballroom where he and Ginny had danced? That was stupid. He wanted to be independent? Who cared? This was more important.
"Harry! HARRY!" A voice screamed bloody murder from the barroom. Harry flung open the door and bolted outside, Draco on his heels, heart in his throat. When they broke into the brightly lit room, he expected to see someone dead on the floor.
But instead he saw Neville crouched on his knees, tears streaming down his face, a tiny limp form in his arms. All of the Aurors and Hit Wizards stood around him in a wide circle, shock on all of their faces."Alice...oh Alice..." Neville sobbed, staring down at the body. Draco's eyes widened in shock. A.J.
That was why she was familiar. She looked like Neville. And as Draco stared at her, he saw the similarities leap out, more noticeable than ever before. Her face was round and cheerful, and her mouth was wide and full. Her hair was thick and black, and slightly curly, just like Neville's.
"What the hell-" He stuttered as the pieces began to come together, but someone set a hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw Ginny, her face sallow, her eyes wide and urgent. She shook her head vigorously, and he fell quiet.
"Harry-Harry she's out cold! Call the Healers! Call someone!" Neville cried, looking at Harry with tear filled eyes.
"I'll get them immediately. Someone check her pulse!" Harry ordered, his voice hoarse.
He walked off.
A wizard surged forward and crouched beside Neville. "Lay her out on the floor!" He ordered. Sniffling, Neville did so. The wizard checked her pulse, biting his lip.
After a moment of incredibly tense silence, he said loudly "She's alive."
"Oh, thank God." Neville groaned, stroking Alice's hair. Draco closed his eyes and wondered why he was feeling such a sickening surge of relief.
Behind him, Ginny gasped. She'd been holding her breath.
Without thinking, he reached behind himself and slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it gently. Her hand was cold and clammy, and he realized she was shivering.
She pulled her hand away immediately, but he thought he felt a little reluctance. Her fingers lingered on his for just a moment too long.
Draco smiled despite himself.
The wizard had drawn out his wand and was muttering incantations under his breath. A.J. stirred slightly, and then her dark eyes flickered open. They were dull and unfocused, but she mumbled "Mum?"
New tears flowed down Neville's cheeks, and he grinned. "You're okay now." He said, more to himself than A.J.
"Who're you?" She mumbled, blinking hard.
"Dad." He whispered.
Draco turned and looked at Ginny, who looked back at him with the same shocked expression. He knew they were thinking the same thing.
Dad?!