Please read the a/n at the bottom!
Disclaimer: This beautiful world belongs to J.K. I'm just a fan writing fiction.
I couldn't listen to my music while writing this but hopefully, I'll pick a playlist that will suit this chapter in the near distant future.
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Chapter 2 — Roses
There had been another murder.
Millicent Bulstrode was found in a similar fashion to Gregory Goyle at her townhome in the outskirts of Falmouth.
Kingsley sighed as he looked down at the body of the young witch. She was the second pureblood in less than six months to have been found murdered; her body was mutilated beyond recognition this time, however, and the Dark Mark was more heavily ingrained into her skin than the previous victims.
A throat cleared to the left of Kingsley who quickly looked up from the witch's remains. Harry Potter stood sullenly as he gazed down at his former classmate.
"This is the fifth killing, Kingsley, and we have absolutely no leads much less any evidence to conduct a proper investigation." Harry sighed as he looked back up at his former mentor. "It's too fast and I feel like if we don't do something now, it's only going to get worse. Much worse."
Kingsley silently nodded as his mind raced through the memories of the past events. "This can't wait any longer." Kingsley said quietly, almost to himself. "They have to act now . . . they have to see this for themselves . . ."
"Harry, I need to go take care of some urgent matters. Inform the others immediately to contaminate the scene of the crime as little as possible. Perform the required analysis of the body as well as the scene but leave everything intact."
Without another word to the Boy Who Lived, Kingsley quickly apparated back to the Ministry and sent out to separate owls each to two very important recipients.
There was no time to ease the pair into working together, Kingsley thought, they would have to deal with each other when the time came.
Because, being who they were, they themselves were in danger as well.
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Hermione woke up the next day with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Something had occurred; she could just feel it.
As if on cue, a grey tawny owl began pecking its beak against Hermione's bedroom window. Recognizing it as Kingsley's, Hermione quickly unlocked the aperture and allowed the owl to perch on her windowsill. Giving the bird a soft stroke, she removed the letter attached to the owl's leg and gave the parchment a once-over before writing her reply and sending the bird on its way.
Sometimes she really hated when she was right.
Something terrible had occurred.
Around the same time as Hermione had received her letter, a sluggish Draco awoke to the incessant beating of a midnight black Eagle owl sitting lazily outside his window.
"Bloody hell," Draco murmured angrily as he waved his hand to magically unlock the glass pane. Grabbing the letter from the owl that was no doubt Kingsley's, Draco quickly read the familiar scrawl, his face already turning into a frown.
Muttering illegitimate curses, Draco looked up at his clock and, at that exact moment, the black owl bit deep into Draco's hand which had been hanging dangerously close to the birds mouth.
"For fucks sake!" Draco swore as he held his throbbing hand, his mood turning fouler by the second.
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Kingsley was sitting haphazardly in his rather uncomfortable chair holding his face in the palm of his hands. He had been meaning to replace the useless piece of furniture for months but had not found the time what with a murderer running amuck in London.
Of course, if the past events began to hold weight onto his leadership, Kingsley may be out of a job in the next few months.
Letting out a long sigh, he adjusted his seating position once more as he looked at the open case file before him.
There had to be something they were missing; five murders in the last four and a half years and not a single witness was found nor any case-breaking evidence. There was absolutely no path Kingsley could discern to take on which him and the Ministry could catch this psychotic serial killer.
To add to the already growing list of concerns, the Dark Mark was causing a rising panic throughout the already weak wizarding world. Disorder and chaos ran rampant across the nation as people were once again controlled by fear instead of rationale.
A knock on Kingsley's door ended his internal rant as a familiar pair of ice-blue eyes stared down at him.
"Come in Draco, have a seat." Kingsley voiced, his tone tired. "I trust you found your way up to be a bit more easier than your last visit."
Draco grunted as he abided and took the seat directly diagonal to the Minister. "At least there weren't any condescending looks this time and I managed to avoid the early morning foot traffic. Thank you for that." He paused. "Who died."
Kingsley's nose crinkled at the bluntness of the wizard before him but answered, "Millicent Bullstrode. As I understand, she was a former classmate of yours. She was found earlier this morning in her home, killed in the same manner as Goyle, but she was more . . . mutilated than anything else. Her body was . . . it seemed she was tortured beyond belief." He let out another sigh. "I don't know what to do Draco. The Ministry is threatening to sack me; Goyle's father wants my head served to him on a silver platter. No one feels safe anymore."
Silently, Draco kept his eyes trained on the dark-skinned wizard before him as the man spoke of his frustrations. Though Kingsley was bald, Draco could still see tiny flecks of silver hair teasing its way above the tips of Kingsley's ears. Stress lines had begun to form around the old man's dark eyes and it seemed as if he had lost some weight.
Having the title and position of Minister of Magic was no easy feat; though the job was of the highest respect, it was the one that took the most toll out of the witch or wizard brave enough to wear the name proudly.
"You look like shit."
Surprise gathered in Kingsley's eyes as his mouth curled into a slight smirk. "I've been busy."
"I can see that. I want to go to Bullstrode's home. Have a look around the crime scene while its still fresh considering I didn't have that luxury before. Maybe something will jump out at me."
Kingsley nodded, "I had a feeling you would want to see the crime for yourself and informed the Aurors to only perform the required analysis of the scene and the body. Everything else was to remain intact."
Draco nodded, "Good." He stood up from his position under the impression that they would be leaving henceforth, however, Kingsley did not rise with him. Narrowing his eyes, Draco asked rhetorically, "What are we waiting for? Let's go. I know you trust those Auror imbeciles to not corrupt the scene, however, I don't."
Kingsley remained quiet for a few more moments before asking, "Do you remember when you asked me to find someone who could assist you on this case?"
Instantly Draco felt suspicion flood his body. "Who did you assign to my case, Kingsley?"
Before Kingsley could reply, a knock resonated on his door and two seconds later a familiar head full of brown curls came into view.
"Kingsley? I received your owl and I apologize for my tardiness but the press outside the Ministry is having a field day and . . ." Hermione's polite voice trailed off as realization set in that she wasn't the only individual in the presence of the Minister of Magic. Her confused chocolate brown eyes met with a pair of ice-cold ones, already dilating with anger. Though she hadn't seen her childhood nemesis since she had testified at his hearing more than four years ago, she would have recognized the infamous Malfoy sneer anywhere.
"What's going on here?" Hermione addressed Kingsley however her eyes were still focused on the irate wizard before her.
Kingsley opened his mouth to reply, but, again, he was cut off as Draco yelled, "You have got to be fucking kidding me. You chose her? Of all the witches and wizards in the damn world . . ." He trailed off as he sat back down in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his anger.
Still at a loss, Hermione had not ventured further into Kingsley's office nor did she sit down as the only available seat was begrudgingly on Malfoy's left. "I'm sorry but I feel as though I have missed something. Why is Malfoy here? Your letter said it was urgent that I meet you so I came straight away. What happened?"
Kingsley clicked his tongue, waiting a moment in case Draco decided to continue his childish outburst, and replied, "Ms. Granger, please have a sit. There is much to discuss and, unfortunately, time is of the essence."
Hermione hesitated for a few moments but silently conceded as took the seat adjacent to Malfoy's.
Kingsley let out a breathe as he began in an authoritative tone, "Ms. Granger, I know you must have a lot of questions and I will answer all of them in due time to the best of my ability. I feel it is pertinent we start with the reason Draco is present. For quite some time now, the Ministry has been . . . unhappy with my leadership and there are many in the Ministry who feel as if, due to the murders that have occurred, I haven't put in my best effort to find and catch the culprit. I do not blame the people for coming to this conclusion at all as I too have been struggling to ascertain just how the Killer has been able to stay three steps of the Ministry this whole time. Finally, it occurred to me that the Ministry might very well be infiltrated and is no longer safe." Hermione opened her mouth to speak, however, stopped when Kingsley beckoned with his hand for her silence. "As I was saying . . . yes, though I know we have a team already in charge of investigating the Dark Mark case, I felt as if it would not harm anyone if Draco took a look into the matter as well. You see, for quite some time now, Draco has been my one true confidanté and is the one person, besides you Hermione, whom I trust full-heartedly. It is for this sole reason alone that I would like the two of you to conduct your own private investigation away from the Ministry's prying eyes into this matter."
For at least three whole minutes, the Minister's office succumbed to a deathly silence silhouetted by a cloak of tension. The air was full of static and anger that if Hermione were to conjure a knife and slice the space in front of her, she would be able to see the energized particles once again connect without a moments hesitation.
Draco spoke first. "Of all the stupid ideas I've heard you drone on about in the last few years, this would certainly fucking top the list." He chuckled humorlessly.
Hermione's head snapped as she looked to the companion at her right. "Excuse me but how dare you speak like that to Kingsley." Her tone was condescending and cruel.
"You're excused, Granger. Leave anytime you like because there is no way in fucking hell am I working with the Gryffindor princess."
"You insufferable little—"
"Evil, little cockroach? Yeah, you're not so better off bushy-haired big-eyed—"
"Bushy-haired?! At least I don't have a crooked nose, didn't I break—"
"Yes, as a matter of fact you did, thanks for that you little bit—"
"Enough!" Kingsley roared. The headstrong witch and wizard in front of him looked gobsmacked as they viewed their usually calm Minister in shock. "That is quite enough. From the both of you." Kingsley narrowed his eyes a bit longer at Draco. "I understand that while you were at Hogwarts the two of you did not exactly have the best of friendship—"
Draco retorted, "We were never friends—"
"I said silence!" Kingsley looked as if he were about to hex Draco to the moon and back causing the latter to involuntarily remain quiet.
"It might have escaped your notice, but you both are not in Hogwarts anymore. Your petty school rivalries are just that: school rivalries. You are both very hard-working, very intelligent adults who have been given the task to capture a mass murderer and I do not know how much more simpler I can get in my wordings but you have no choice but to work with the other in this matter. I hope I do not have to stress the importance of solving this investigation as quickly as possible. Now, with that, I will ask only once, and if either of you still feel the need to protest, one of you will be joining me in Falmouth investigating Bullstrode's remains while the other will be wallowing in their pride. Full-stop." Kingsley exhaled as he let the duo in front of him mull over his words.
"Well, then, are there any objections?"
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It was times like these when Hermione wished she could simply wave her wand and cast a silencio around her, sheltering her as she cocooned herself against the horrors of the outside world.
There lying before her, in a pool of her own blood, was Millicent Bullstrode. Completely mangled and completely horrifying to even look at, much less stomach.
"I sent out Harry and the others so Draco could investigate the scene in peace." Kingsley mumbled as he watched Draco quietly peruse the scene. "I trust I do not have to say this twice, Hermione, but no one must know that you and Draco are working together. If the Ministry found out, they would sack me on the spot calling me a number of names for associating myself with an 'ex-death eater.'"
Hermione nodded once in understanding. A few moments passed before she attained the courage to ask the questions that have been running through her mind for the past hour, but before she could, once again the wizard before her shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, Hermione, but not now. I will answer all your questions later on in the day. Come to my office after lunch. For now, just look."
Struggling to contain her sigh, Hermione started walking around the scene of the crime, her eyes narrowing in on the evidence surrounding the body of Millicent Bullstrode which was lying on the floor at least half-a-meter from her queen-sized bed. The area around the body was completely covered in blood and a sheet had been placed a top her body in an effort to, even in death, conserve some of the poor witch's dignity.
Balancing her weight on her heels as she crouched down, Hermione slowly lifted the item to see the full extent of the crime. She gasped as she viewed what the young girl had had to endure.
Millicent's body remained bare underneath the thin material with long jagged marks running up and down her pale body; her chest had been horribly mutilated as a word had been horrifically scratched into her skin.
Traitor.
The Dark Mark was red and grotesque-looking and it seemed to have been forcibly inked into her skin. Whether it had occurred before or after her death was yet to be determined once the Harry and the others submitted their reports.
She saw Malfoy on the opposite side of Millicent's body as he lifted the fabric and studied her body. He frowned as he inspected the finger-like bruises around her throat indicating that strangulation had played a role in her painful death.
"She smells like roses . . ." He trailed off.
Frowning, Hermione asked, "She smells like what?"
He threw her an irritated look. "Don't you smell it? Roses. It's a slight tinge masked my the metallic smell of her blood, but it's hard to ignore."
"Nothing in the other reports state that the other crime scenes held a 'rose-like' smell. You must be imagining—"
"I'm not imagining anything Granger, and for the record, every crime scene prior to this one has been stated to have had a 'rose-like' odor surrounding the caricature. It was barely jotted down by the investigating officials and wasn't even mentioned at the site of Goyle's murder, but I'd bet a thousand galleons that the same fragrance was there as well." Malfoy sneered. "Some detective you are."
Hermione seethed with anger at the end of her colleagues rant but instead of retorting she kept quiet.
One of them needed to be mature in this partnership and she'll be damned if she let Malfoy have the upper hand.
"I'll look into it when I get back to the office," was all she said unaware of the skeptical ice-cold eyes staring opposite from her.
Ten minutes after thoroughly inspecting the scene, Draco had gathered all the information he could attain. He looked at Granger who was still staring at the bed with a furrowed expression.
"There's nothing on the fucking bed, Granger. Bulstrode is hardly the type to bring home guests for the night," he snapped as his lips curled.
"If you could get off your high-horse—"
"My what—"
"You would notice that there are two imprints in the bed indicating two bodies at one point or another. Also, I highly doubt Bulstrode has ever worn such a fancy wrist-watch before." Granger responded as she levitated a rather expensive-looking watch from behind the bed with her wand. "It looks as if it has been there for quite some time as dust bunnies have gathered on it and the design looks more masculine than feminine so I highly doubt it belongs to any of Bulstrode's lady friends. The only assumption that could be drawn from this is Bulstrode may have had a male companion in the past few months."
Hermione smirked at Malfoy, delighted to see that he had no witty come-back for her.
Prick.
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Draco was pissed.
No, "pissed" was putting it lightly. He was enraged.
After returning to the Ministry with Shacklebolt — thank Merlin separately from Granger — he had furthered his discussion with the former wizard on just how idiotic he viewed his choice of partner. Sod it all did. Throughout the whole ordeal, Shacklebolt clearly made it a point that his decision was final and in no circumstances was he about to change it due to Draco's "incessant whining."
Still muttering obscenities, Draco had apparated straight to his flat where he promptly poured himself a tall glass of single-malt whiskey and took an even large drink.
He needed to vent about this. He needed to talk to someone.
Without a moments hesitation, Draco Flooed to his childhood home where he seemed to have interrupted his mother's late brunch with the gossiping harpies.
"Mother. A moment please." Draco said sternly as he walked out of the drawing room and entered the main sitting room. He poured himself another drink; this time firewhiskey.
Draco sighed, content, as he felt the burn of the whiskey make its way down his throat.
"Draco? What is the meaning of this? Is—"
"Tell me mother, hypothetically speaking, if you were Minister of Magic and had chosen a 'wealthy and intelligent young wizard with an ample amount of free time on his hands' would you have also been so idiotic as to assign the partner to his case his childhood nemesis?"
Narcissa remained silent as she allowed her scathing son to finish his rant.
"Of course! What am I saying! It's not my case, I'm not even a bloody fucking Auror! It was never my case!" He downed his glass in one gulp as he took a moment to compose himself. "Shacklebolt assigned Hermione fucking Granger to the Muggleborn case. He believes that if she and I were to work together as 'partners' then maybe, just maybe, there might be a chance of catching this bastard before he strikes again."
The elegant matron sat down in one of the available chairs as she continued to listen to Draco's explanation.
"I just don't get it. He knows how much we hated each other in Hogwarts — how much she hated me. She and I would never be able to sit in a room together, much less work together."
After a few moments, Narcissa replied. "Well, I think it's a plausible tactic."
Draco's head snapped to the left as his eyes narrowed at her. "What the fu—"
Narcissa held up her hand to silence him as she explained, "Yes, Draco, I think it's a very intelligent decision on Kingsley's part." She paused. "Think about it from his perspective; if you had a serial killer running around London trying to murder muggleborns and had the advantage of being in communication with two of the most intelligent people who could, just maybe, be able to bring this killer to justice, well, I highly doubt that you would hesitate to put that plan into effect."
Hermione Granger is an incredibly bright young witch. Amelia has told me many great things about the girl as her mentor and I am inclined to believe that her perspective over the last few years towards ex-death eaters has changed quite dramatically. She is an interesting young lady, one of whom I would love to meet on a more happy stance, I daresay. She has a mind, Draco, a mind that could train yours and sharpen it as you would train hers. Use each other."
Quietly, Narcissa got up from her seat, gave her son a soft peck on the cheek, and returned to her friends.
For awhile, Draco mulled over his mother's advice while nursing a third glass of firewhiskey.
He concluded that his mother was right; the know-it-all was a know-it-all but an intelligent one. She wouldn't have received the highest marks in Hogwarts, surpassing even him, if she had been anything less than brilliant. Draco knew that she would challenge him appropriately — and he would challenge her. They weren't in Hogwarts anymore, he wasn't the same scared shitless seventeen year old trying to save his family nor was she the same bloody Gryffindor.
Draco grimaced. He wasn't so sure about that last part.
Sighing, he slammed his glass on the desk before him as he succumbed to the inevitable conclusion.
He would act professional and mature henceforth; for the sake of the case and for the lives at stake, he will do everything in his power to work with her.
He will try.
At least it wasn't Pothead and Ginger. Draco let out a sigh of relief.
The only route that would have led him to was hell.
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So here it is! The second installment!:-)
I want to give a special shoutout to my first 3 reviewers: Jennabolla, Guest1, and Pax!
I never expected anyone to review or even read this so the fact that you guys did makes me so very happy:-).
This chapter is a little short compared to the first but I had my reasons for cutting it off here; I have to admit, it was definitely fun writing this little piece! The snide comments were the most interesting to come up with, imo.
Anyways, please R + R and let me know what you all think :-) it would be great to know if I have an audience who is counting on me finishing this, lol.
~Z