CONSOLATION PRIZE: PART THREE

Draco Malfoy was sitting in his desk pouring over yet another ledger of debts when his house-elf appeared in front of him with a sharp crack!.

'Master Draco must come to the parlour,' the house-elf squeaked. 'There is an Auror to see him, sir.'

Draco threw down his quill as he stood up. He sighed. What had they come to confiscate now?

Draco stalked into the parlour, the house-elf cowering behind him. There Weasley stood, gazing around with a stupid stunned expression on her face. Merlin, this was all he needed.

'Weasley. Why the hell are you in my house?'

'It's a publicity stunt,' she said triumphantly.

'What?' The bint had lost it.

'All of it. The competition, working with George. It's all about your image.'

'That's your grand theory. All companies work on their image.'

'Malfoy Corp is about to declare bankruptcy. You're selling off your properties to cover your debts. Your accounts are just about empty. You took out a second mortgage on the manor to try and stay afloat. '

'Get out of my house,' he growled, his eyes narrowing.

'You're hedging a lot on this one competition and now someone is trying to steal something from you, and I want to know what it is.'

Draco stared at her. How did she know that? He had been so careful. Only a few people knew how dire his financial situation was and the littlest Weasel should not have been one of them. Of course she was here to rub it in his face. She seemed so pleased with herself for figuring it all out.

'Congratulations, Weasley,' he sneered, looking down his nose at her. 'You get to have a big laugh because the fucking ministry has sucked us dry with reparations. My mother is being ostracised by her 'friends' and my father spends all day pouring over different account reports trying to cut costs. Is that what you want to hear? You want me to tell you that I don't know how I'm going to pay the bills next month if this falls through.'

'No,' Ginny said taken back by his outburst. 'I don't want that.'

'Then what the fuck do you want from me, Weasley?' he yelled.

'I want you to let me help you.'

Hang on. what? 'Help me?'

'Help you,' she confirmed with a nod of her head.

'Help me?' He stared at her. She, the fourth bloody wheel of the golden trio, wanted to help him.

'Do you need me to write it down for you?'

'Potter and his band of twits don't think anything of it. What makes you think you're going to make the difference.'

'I figured out you're broke, didn't I? Harry hasn't worked that out yet.'

Draco crossed his arms across his chest, his lips set in a hard line. He glared at her. He didn't want her to help him. It was a cruel joke that he had to rely on a Weasley to get his money back.

'I got more N.E. than Harry,' she tempted him.

'Goyle got more N.E. than Potter,' Draco scoffed. 'He got into the Auror program based on his little scar.'

'His experience with defeating Dark Wizards might have factored into it somewhere.'

'Did you want me to tell you what I'm doing?'

Ginny smiled.

*~*

'Couldn't we have Apparated to your library,' Ginny puffed as she begun up yet another flight of stairs. Ginny had thought they were gorgeous when they had first starting climbing them. But now she would be happy if she never saw white marble again.

'I could, you couldn't.'

'Ever heard of side-along Apparation? Pretty sure they've written whole books on it.'

Malfoy sighed and rolled his eyes. 'It's hardly my fault you're too unfit to make it up a few flights of stairs.'

'I saw that,' Ginny scolded from behind him. 'I'm giving up my time- oh thank the gods, finally,' she cried as Draco turned down a corridor. 'I'm giving up my time to help you and all you do is torture me.'

'You badgered me into letting you help because Potter wouldn't open a real case,' he said as he pushed open the heavy double doors to the library.

The library was the size of a small house. Ceiling high shelves lined the walls and stood in rows in the middle of the room. Large arm chairs with small round tables scattered between them sat to one side of the room in front of a fireplace. Ginny followed Draco further into the library, and noticed that entire book shelves were missing, interrupting the neat pattern of stacks, and rows lay bare.

'The ministry likes coming in here every time they revise their dark and prohibited book list. The elves remove the shelves that we don't need.' Draco said, answering her unasked question. He weaved through the rows with Ginny following at his heels.

'Oh,' Ginny intoned inadequately. 'You must have had a lot of books of Dark Magic.'

'Some weren't Dark,' Malfoy defended, 'Just old.' He finally stopped in front of a row of shelves, quickly picking out the book he wanted. 'Come on.'

They settled on the large arm chairs by the fire. A plate of chocolate biscuits had appeared on one of the tables. Malfoy absently took one and bit into it as he sat down, dropping his book on the table with a thump.

'The Complete Works of William Shakespeare.' Ginny tilted her head to the side to read the upside down title. 'That's why you were attacked? What is it the original manuscripts or something.'

'Don't be daft. Original manuscripts don't exist.'

'Well excuse me. Why do you have the complete works of Shakespeare anyway. Don't you despise everything Muggle?'

'There is great speculation that Shakespeare may have in fact been a Squib, hence the rather negative portrayal of Witches. Jealous of Wizards and perhaps bitter that no Pureblood Witch would have him.'

'Pfft. Whatever,' Ginny scoffed, waving his comment off.

'Did you just spit on my table?'

'No!'

'There's globs of saliva on the wood.'

'There's nothing there,' Ginny said, but wiped the table with her sleeve none the less. 'What's so important about Shakespeare, Malfoy?' she asked impatiently. She eyed the chocolate biscuits longingly. She hadn't had tea yet, or lunch for that matter, and it didn't look like Malfoy was going to let her in on his secrets in a timely fashion. She picked the biggest biscuit on the plate and munched on it, looking up at Malfoy expectantly.

'Of course you take the biggest one there.'

Ginny blushed. 'Get on with it.'

Malfoy tapped the cover of his book, muttering a spell that Ginny couldn't quite make out and opened the book. The page was blank. He tapped the inside page and words began to appear as if an invisible man was writing them.

'This is why they were after me,' Draco informed her, turning the pages in great clumps. He stopped on a page that had a series of diagrams of wand movements.

'A spell?' Ginny asked confused. She turned the book around to face her, studying the diagrams. 'A very complicated spell.'

'After the war you know how the ministry went andObliviated all those Muggles and set up fresh wards around highly magical areas.'

'No.'

'How did you not know that? You work for the ministry?'

'I was busy,' Ginny defended.

'Shagging Potter?'

Ginny scowled, returning her attention to the book. 'And?'

'All their technology stopped working until the magic subsided a bit.'

'Magical signatures interferes with the electrical frame works and radio waves,' Ginny said in understanding, although, if she was being honest with herself, she was simply parroting back what Hermione had told her many times. She still didn't have a clue where he was heading with all of this.

'Exactly,' he confirmed. 'After the war, I spend a lot of time at Blaise's and his step father, the one before the one he has now, I mean, had an obsession with Muggle technology. Found it all fascinating.'

'So does Dad,' Ginny interrupted with a smile. 'He fiddles for hours down in his shed trying to make different things work or figure out what Muggles use them for.'

Draco scowled at her. 'As I was saying,' he said, resting his elbows on his knees, 'Blaise's stepfather had all this Muggle technology but it would only work in one room of his house. Old Manors have about as much magical energy around them as Hogwarts,' he explained at her dubious look. 'And I was curious as to why that room let it work, so I took a television home and it only worked down in one of the dungeons.'

'You have dungeons?' Ginny asked excitedly. Her brow furrowed after a second. 'Actually that's kind of disturbing.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Are you ever going to stop interrupting?' he asked irritated.

Ginny looked at him affronted. 'I'm not interrupting, I'm making valid contributions.'

'Then stop 'contributing',' he said in a falsetto.

'I do not sound like that!' Ginny interrupted.

'Can I just get on with it? Merlin, it's like talking to a three year old.'

Ginny folded her arms, and leant back into the seat. She crossed her legs and stared at him.

'Good.' He mimicked her stance, albeit, a little more casually and continued. 'So I did some digging on the history of the Manor and the dungeons and found that the dungeons were built on what used to be a mausoleum.'

'Your family built dungeons on a grave site?' Ginny cried. 'That's just wrong.'

'Did we not just have a conversation about you interrupting?'

'Sorry, but it's wrong. You don't knock down graves because you need a little extra space for torture.'

Draco scrubbed at his face. 'Why did I agree to this?' he asked himself. He shook his head and then took a deep breath. He continued with a forced calmness, reminding himself that as annoying as Weasley was, she was the only one who had put any effort into solving his case. 'I found that a lot of wards and charms they used way back then when someone died were still holding. They don't make magic to last that long anymore but back then they wanted it to last forever. Or as close to forever as they could get.

'They don't use the spells now because they don't really know how to cast them and most don't really know how to mix the potions anymore. Some of the ingredients don't go by the same name and some aren't even made anymore, but, that's not the point. The point is these spells, they cleared the air and were meant to purify whatever came near the crypt. It was meant to help them ascend into heaven or some bollocks like that.

'And,' he said excitedly. He was leaning forward in his seat again and rubbed his hands on his thighs. His eyes had lit up with excitement and Ginny noticed that they really were quite pretty. 'they're still purifying and clearing now, except they purify the magic and electricity around it-'

'And allows the Muggle technology to work surrounded by magic,' Ginny finished for him.

He nodded but didn't say anything else. Ginny sat there, confused, for a few moments, turning the pages, scanning over the meticulous notes. She gasped. 'You figured out how to recreate the wards?'

He nodded quickly again. 'I had the elves do some research for me and found diaries and all sorts of manuals from back then. One of them was from someone who worked the grounds before the Malfoys came here. He wrote about how he had helped his master perform the spell on his father's grave,' he told her proudly.

He took the book from her and flipped it over. Opening the back cover, he showed her a list of books, their bibliographical details and place in the library recorded. Ginny grimaced as she noticed that the book list went on for pages and pages. He had even recorded which pages were particularly useful. The man was more anally retentive than Hermione!

'I used other books as well and figured out how to cast the spells and then worked on it till I had the right combination of wards and charms. I also made some adjustments to the potions and the Tele works in every room in Malfoy Manor, Parkinson Manor, Blaise's, Hogwarts, you name the place it works.'

'Oh my Gods,' Ginny said, agape. 'This is huge. How did you do all this?'

'I'm good at figuring out how things work. Fixing things,' he said immodestly.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. 'I remember.'

He shifted slightly in his seat. His jaw tightened and his eyes refused to meet hers. 'Yeah, well, I have the patent for the spell and I bought the rights from Muggle companies to reproduce their products with magical enhancement.'

'But you hate all things Muggle,' Ginny pointed out, closing his book of notes once more. The precise and inhumanly neat notes were starting to irk her. 'Why would you do something that benefits Muggleborns?'

'Just because I'm better than them doesn't mean I can't make money off them.'

'You're a prat,' she spat, 'but this could make you billions.' Ginny shook her head in disbelief. 'It'll revolutionise the Wizarding World.'

'I know,' he said with a self-satisfied smirk. 'And without this,' he said tapping his finger on the book, 'No other company can release their own version and by the time they figure it out, I'll have already put an upgrade on the market. I'll be ahead of them for a few years yet and by then it won't matter if they catch up-'

'Because you'll be rich again,' she realised.

'You make me sound so self-centred and superficial,' he lamented and then smirked as she curled her lip in response.

'You are self-centred and superficial,' she informed him haughtily.

'Well we can't all be as selfless as Saint Potter.'

'Perish the thought.' She smiled at him and was shocked when he smiled slightly in return. He ran his hand through his hair, the slightly too long strands falling back into his face, obscuring his eyes. He tucked his hair behind his ears a couple of times before giving up and letting it fall wherever it liked. She couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up as he pouted slightly.

'What?' he snapped.

'Hair just isn't bouncing and behaving today?' she laughed.

'Says the Ging.'

Ginny's smile dropped and she scowled at him. 'Knob,' she muttered. She took another biscuit. Crumbs fell down her front as she bit into it. 'So who's trying to steal your idea?'

'That's the billion galleon question,' he sighed.

'Who else knows about it?'

'You mean apart from every department at Malfoy Corporation, half a dozen Aurors, and a handful of my friends?'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Why didn't you tell Harry about this? They've just dismissed your claims that you're Manor and offices were broken into.'

'I did. He asked me about a biro but I don't think he cares whether I make my money back.'

'Nobody cares whether you make your money back, Malfoy,' Ginny scoffed.

'You do, apparently,' he reminded her.

'You owe me an all expenses paid holiday to the destination of my choice.'

'Of course.' He smiled at her again and Ginny couldn't help but smile back.

*~*

'Why are you here again?' Malfoy asked as Ginny wandered around his office. She ran her fingers over the plush leather of the couch that sat against the left hand wall and noted the art work that hung above it. His desk was a thick, dark wood and sat in front of large windows. Before his desk was a single leather chair. For someone who was running out of money, he sure hadn't skimped on the luxuries.

'I told you three times already,' she replied exasperated. 'You said you think someone from one of your departments sold the information about your Muggle/Wizard Hybrid spells and sold it to a competitor. I am trained in interrogating suspects, what're your qualifications for questioning any of them?'

'Slytherin,' he said with a shrug. 'I can spot deception from a mile off.'

'Then why has it taken you this long to find out who's selling you out?' she asked with raised eyebrows, her hands flew to her hips. 'Why have we sat through three days of staff interviews if you can just walk into a room and know who the slimy snake is?'

'I have rather a lot of people working for me,' he defended, 'even the keenest of senses have limits.'

'Probably help if you had met any of them before.' Ginny flopped inelegantly onto the couch, swinging her legs onto the leather.

For three days they had been interviewing every employee and they were no closer to finding out who had sold his secrets. She watched him from her place on the couch, as he read over yet more personnel reports. He made small notes in a ledger every now and again. Merlin, that quill was probably worth more than her flat. Really, she reasoned, he and Hermione would have gotten on well if he wasn't so much of a prejudiced arse.

A sudden rap on the door broke her concentration. Without waiting for an invitation, a tall black man swished into the room. She sat up quickly. Ginny recognised him from school as Blaise Zabini but had never had much to do with him. He seemed to keep to himself.

'Drake,' Blaise greeted, his eyes paused briefly on Ginny, and continued on to Malfoy. Malfoy laid down his quill and leaned back in his seat.

'Don't call me that,' he barked. 'What are you doing here?'

'Nice to see you too, Drake. Why is there an Auror lying on your couch?'

'That's Weasley,' he answered with distain, 'She's helping discover who's been stealing from me.'

'I thought the Aurors weren't taking you seriously.' He spoke with a slight scowl, titling his head to look in Ginny's direction. Ginny returned the scowl with fervour, affronted. It wasn't her fault none of the other Aurors wanted to give Malfoy the time of day. If he wasn't such a whinging arse, they might have put in a little more effort.

'The Aurors aren't.' He sent a scowl in Ginny's direction as well. 'She just won't bugger off.'

'Hey, I'm helping you interview your lousy employees, a little gratitude wouldn't go astray,' she snapped.

Draco opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by a curious Blaise. 'You're interviewing your employees?'

'Yes,' Draco stated, still glaring at Ginny. 'We have been since Wednesday. We're onto accounting today.'

Blaise looked from Draco to Ginny. Both had their arms crossed tightly across their chests and neither was willing to drop the glare. It was a deranged battle of wills.

'Well, then,' Blaise said as he wandered over to sit beside Ginny. He crossed his legs and laced his fingers together in his lap. 'Maybe I'll stay and give you a hand. Fresh perspective and all that rot.'

'You've got nothing better to do?' Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows. Merlin, she wished she had something better to do. These interviews dragged on like a Quidditch match without a snitch.

'I think I have time to help out a mate,' he said seriously. He turned his attention back to Draco, ignoring Ginny. Draco smirked.

'First up?' Blaise prompted.

'Charlie Pickering.'

Charlie Pickering, it turned out, was a gangly, pimply faced eighteen-year-old, fresh out of Hogwarts. The stress of being faced with his boss, an Auror and a scowling, well dressed man, which, Ginny supposed, was the best way to describe Blaise, caused Charlie to sweat profusely. Bead after bead ran down forehead and neck, wetting his collar. Ginny felt sorry for him as Malfoy grilled him on his qualifications, his whereabouts on certain dates and his duties within the company. It was clear to Ginny that the boy didn't know the first thing about the prototype and Malfoy was just getting a kick out of being cruel.

'Thank you, Charlie,' she said loudly as Malfoy paused to write down a note. Ginny rolled her eyes. The boy had just revealed that his mother still did his laundry and they could ask her anything they wanted. 'We have all we need.'

The boy sat there stunned. He turned in his chair to look at her and then whipped back to face Malfoy with a look of fear on his face.

'Shoo.' Malfoy said. Charlie scurried from the room, missing the smirk that was plastered on Malfoy's face.

'That was mean,' Ginny scolded.

Draco shrugged and then scrunched up his nose. He could see a line of moisture spreading across the seat and up the back of the leather chair Charlie had been sitting in. He Scourgified it in disgust.

For the next few hours, accountants filed into Malfoy's office one by one, prompting Ginny to speculate that perhaps the abundance of useless number crunchers was the reason his business was in the toilet. Malfoy didn't appreciate the barb and proceeded to eat the final chocolate scroll Ginny had been saving. Blaise sat quietly on his seat, enjoying his chocolate scroll, and offered a few comments throughout the day.

With lunch come and gone, yet more accountants bustled into his office. They proved themselves to be completely useless to them and bustled out again. Ginny huffed when Malfoy put an accountant in the maybe pile simply because he was poor. ('Poor is motive, you silly bint!'). Ginny Accioed personnel files from him, 'accidently' hitting him in the head in retaliation.

At four o'clock Ginny hung her head into her hands with a groan.

'How many more to go?' she whined. This was killing her. Why had she been complaining about the domestics? They were great. Sometimes you even got a show. All she got here was the need to smack her head repeatedly against the wall.

'Three,' Malfoy deadpanned. 'Then it's on to PR.'

'Hard to believe this all started because of Drake's obsession with Neighbours,' Blaise said to Ginny. He stood to stretch out the kinks in his back. She heard the bones crunch as he raised his arms above his head.

'The great Draco Malfoy is obsessed with a Muggle soap opera?' Ginny asked perking up. This was just too good.

'I bloody well am not,' Draco snapped from his desk.

'No, it's true,' Blaise smiled, ignoring Draco's warning look. 'He can't wait to find out what the residents of Ramsey Street get up to next. Used to over at my place every night. Harold is his favourite,' he told her in a dramatic stage whisper.

Ginny laughed as Draco sat there glaring at an unrepentant Blaise. 'Good bloody mate, you are,' he muttered. Blaise just shrugged and winked at Ginny. Ginny almost felt sorry for the poor bugger who walked through the door next. Malfoy was is right foul mood now.

'Mr. O'Neil,' Malfoy greeted tersely when the door opened next. 'Have a seat.'

Marcus O'Neil's eye's shifted from the couch where Ginny and Blaise were seated and then to Malfoy. He sat down in the chair and his eyes darted between them again. Ginny looked at him. He hadn't seemed like much when he walked in. Average height, average build, brown hair. Slightly receding hair line. His only real defining feature was his somewhat too large nose. It made her think of Ron. He wasn't sweating like poor Charlie Pickering but he was definitely nervous. He kept crossing and uncrossing his legs and wringing his hands.

He answered each of Draco's questions promptly as if reciting it from a text book. He stumbled over his words as Malfoy pressed him on what he knew about the prototype.

'Look,' he began. He seemed unsure of who to address and kept throwing his head to the side to look at Ginny and Blaise and then, whipping it quickly back again. Ginny was afraid he was going to pull a muscle. 'I swear to you, I don't know anything. I just balance the books.' He was gripping the arms of the chair tightly, his knuckles white.

Draco nodded slowly. 'Very well,' he said stoically. 'You may go.'

O'Neil let out a great sigh of relief and smiled broadly at Malfoy. 'Thank you, sir,' he said as he made his way out of the room, taking small, shuffling steps. 'Thank you.'

The door shut and silence overtook the room.

'Well, he's going on the naughty pile,' Ginny said, breaking the silence. Finally someone who seemed guilty. It may have taken three days but finally they had a lead.

'I told you I'd find him,' Draco declared.

Ginny just shook her head, muttering about over confident pricks and rolled her shoulders back. She'd always thought the stereotype was unfair but accountants were boring! She felt dishevelled. She looked over at Draco and sighed. He didn't look like he felt dishevelled. He looked just as comfortable as he had that morning. His tie was still sitting firmly over the top button of his shirt. His shirt was still crisp and white.

'What?' he asked tersely as he noticed her staring at him.

'Nothing,' she muttered, waving her hand at him.

His brows knitted together and he stared at her and then glanced down at himself. Ginny watched him curiously as he got up from behind his desk for the first time since lunch, his wand grasped in his hand. He strode the few steps to the wall, his nose firmly poised in the air, and with a swish of his wrist, a full length mirror appeared on the wall. Ginny rolled her eyes, as he began to preen. He fiddled with his hair and straightened his already perfectly centred tie. He turned to the side, and studied himself carefully, making sure his tie was smooth beneath his black waistcoat.

Ginny tilted her head slightly at the view of his bum his current position offered. She had to admit he was right, his arse really was quite shapely.

'Like what you see?' Blaise whispered, startling her. Ginny had completely forgotten he was there.

'What?' she hissed.

'I asked you whether you like what you saw,' he repeated smugly.

'I have no idea what you're on about.' She turned away from him, staring resolutely at the floor. She wished there was a rug of some kind so she'd have a pattern to look at rather than the dull beige of the carpet. She wasn't perving on Malfoy! She scoffed inwardly. Malfoy.

Blaise was uncomfortably close to her now. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke. 'I'm sure Draco wouldn't mind you perving on his arse. He is rather vain.'

'What are you two whispering about?' Draco asked annoyed. He flicked his wand and the mirror disappeared.

'Well,' Blaise started with smirk, before Ginny hurriedly cut him off.

'Blaise was just saying that he thought we were done for the day. Really, it's five thirty on a Friday, nobody is still going to be in their offices now anyway.' She smiled hoping that would convince him. She stood up jerkily, smoothing her crumpled robes. 'So I thought I might get going too. Not really much more we can do till Monday. So I'm just gonna...' she trailed off, pointing to the door. Draco nodded.

'So,' Blaise began as the door closed behind Ginny. 'How long have you wanted to shag a Weasley for?'

'I do not want to shag her.'

'Please,' Blaise scoffed, picking up a glass paper weight and twirling it in his hands. 'All you two did all day was flirt.'

'I have a plethora of experience when it comes to flirting and I assure you there was none here today,' he said with finality. He poured himself a Fire-Whisky and then offered one to Blaise. Blaise took a sip and grinned at his friend.

'All day,' he reiterated. 'You would goad her into fighting with you, then you would both pout over whatever insults were thrown around. Then she would goad you and the whole process started again. It was rather amusing.'

'You've had too much to drink,' Draco scoffed. He rubbed his face and took a gulp of own his drink. 'And a Malfoy does not pout. At the very most I may have been brooding.'

'She checked out your arse, you know,' Blaise said with a grin. He placed his drink on the floor and laid down on the lounge, his legs crossed at the ankles and resting on the arm.

'Really?' Draco asked suddenly interested.

Blaise nodded. 'She really is quite fit,' he told Draco. 'Little on the short side for my tastes, but nice pair of tits.'

Draco hummed his agreement. 'Not my type though,' he persisted much to Blaise's chagrin. 'Fights me on absolutely everything. The woman is a bloody nightmare.'

'And you're such a peach.'