Disclaimer: All HP characters belong to JK Rowling. The story is mine, but even that isn't very original.
Notes: I'm so sorry for such a long wait, but I hope this chapter will make up for it. It's a bit longer and (more importantly) they meet. Enjoy.
The voices and colors swirled around him; through him. A woman yelling, a child screaming, the sound of glass breaking, and the color red. Robert Marlow woke with a gasp. Beads of sweat graced his brow, and he had a hunger inside of him. He gave a feral smile. It was time to hunt.
The June evening was hot, and full of people and choices. He strolled through the city, letting faces and voices wash through him, until one caught his attention. She was leaving a movie theatre, clinging to the arm of her husband. "I'm just going to call and check on the kids," she said. The husband smiled and kissed her. Robert cringed at the sight of it.
"You're evil, Bobby! Have to get the devil out of you! I saw you looking at that girl, Bobby. She's filthy! Jesus hates sinners. She's a sinner, Bobby! You're a sinner, too." His mother's voice spoke in his head.
Without any further thought he Accio'ed her wallet and walked away, looking through his new acquisition. There were pictures galore; she was beautiful, and had a lovely family. Bitch! He would soon make her cry. He smiled as he looked at her driver's license. "I'll see you soon 'Alice Meyers, 111 Chestnut Hill Rd, North Potomac, Maryland.'" He was almost giddy with excitement, as he pocketed her driver's license and threw her wallet into a storm drain. His mind raced with his new plans. This was going to be fun.
* * * * *
Ginny
The sound of violin music mixed with the din of voices and the clinking of silverware and glasses. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. Oh, how Ginny wished she were one of them. She turned back to her date and tried not to yawn. He hadn't stopped talking since they'd sat down, and absolutely none of what he had said had been interesting. "... and ever since then, I haven't cared for spinach." He chuckled, as though he had just said something amusing.
"Uh huh," Ginny replied, absently. She took a bite of salad, and wondered if her life might better have been spent, in researching the cure for dullness. She smiled briefly at the thought and then found her mind wandering to her work. Seven years of research and development were drawing to a close. Her potion... her team's potion was almost perfect, and would likely change the course of wizarding medicine forever. The concept of future hospitals being named after her was not out of the realm of possibility. But there was still so much left to do before she could present the final product to her backers and, ultimately, the world at large.
She had known that it was a bad idea to come to this tonight. This was valuable time that she was wasting, listening to this boring man drone on and on about absolutely nothing. Time that she could be using to work on her article for the New England Journal of Wizarding Medicine, or to check in with Vishwas and his latest tweak to the formula.
She was clearly going mad; it was the only explanation for why she had decided to accept the man's invitation. All of this, combined with the continuous subtle and not so subtle pressure she was receiving from her family that she should move back to England, did not help her reduce her stress levels. She had received a new picture of her newest nephew. He was growing into the jolliest of children, all grins and bushy red hair. Hermione's letter had said that Little Harry, as he was now known, was progressing nicely. He laughed often and had started to recognize her and Ron. It was a sneaky tactic, and Ginny hated to admit that it was working. Her heart ached that she wasn't there to see it in person.
Her date had stopped talking, and Ginny reveled in the silence. At least she did until she looked up and realized that he was choking. She flew into action and performed the Heimlich maneuver. His face had turned thoroughly blue before he coughed up a dinner mint that had arrived with the bill. The restaurant broke into applause and Ginny, embarrassed at the attention, sat down after making sure that he was all right. He was shaken up but otherwise unscathed.
"Your half comes to thirty dollars," he said, hoarsely.
The only thing that prevented Ginny from hexing him on the spot was the prospect of the hefty fine that would accompany the use of magic in a restaurant full of Muggles. She put her credit card next to his on the bill, and excused herself to the restroom. When she returned he smiled kindly at her, and he wasn't as chatty as she signed her receipt. Suddenly the gentleman, he held the door for her as they left the restaurant. Then the talking began again, and he didn't stop until they were outside of her building, when he fell silent for several moments.
"I had a really nice time tonight," he said suddenly.
She made another non-committal noise, looked at her watch, and then back up at him; he'd closed his eyes and was moving in for a kiss. She turned her head and he kissed her ear. He was quick to recover, however, and made a try for her lips, again; she pushed him away.
He looked at her as if she had betrayed him. "What gives?" he asked.
Ginny made a show of yawning. "I'm really tired. I should get to bed."
"Do you want me to tuck you in?" he asked, suggestively, moving closer to her, again.
She took another step back. "No, that's quite alright."
He turned around and walked away angrily, mumbling something that sounded like, "Fucking tease."
Ginny fumed. She entered her dark her flat, angry and still hungry.
She was immediately accosted by several owls, carrying rolls of parchment. They wore green hoods, and she recognized them as being from the medical school. Either Vishwas had made a breakthrough, or he had hit a wall in their latest formula. Either way she didn't want to deal with it right now. Even though all she could think of during her date was getting back to work, the only thing she wanted to do now was take a hot bath and eat some ice cream. So she ignored the parliament of owls that was roosting in her entryway and entered her small bathroom, discarding pieces of clothing the entire way. With a flick of her wand, she lit several candles and turned on the hot water.
Twenty minutes later Ginny entered her kitchen, toweling her hair. She grabbed a pint of mint chocolate chip from the freezer and a box of owl treats from the pantry. She greeted her feathery guests, and gave them each a treat, after removing them of their burdens. They each gave her an indignant look as they flew away. She sat at her desk with her ice cream and started reading the familiar scrawl.
Spring 2005
Ginny had met Vishwas during her freshman year at Johns Hopkins Wizarding Medical School. He was a TA in her second semester potions class. The two hit it off right away, but it was only after she wasn't his student any more, that they became friends, and(,) for a brief period, lovers.
She had been sitting in the cafeteria, poring over an advanced potions text, and growing visibly frustrated by what she was reading when he sat down across from her.
"Do you need any help?" he'd asked.
Her smile had been genuine, and he became her tutor. It had been another semester, before they made out for the first time, and it was another year after that, before they decided that they had, within them, the knowledge to change the world.
She'd just moved into her first flat, living alone, and they were sitting among the boxes drinking wine, while he filled her in on Daya, the woman who would eventually become his wife. Eventually the conversation turned to school. She had just begun her internship at Creagor Memorial, and was in the middle of her rotation in the infectious disease ward. There had been an outbreak of dragon meningitis and several deaths as a result.
"...And the only thing we can do is give them potions to relieve their symptoms. It's frustrating," she said, pouring herself some more wine.
He nodded his agreement.
"So I had this patient last week; he was a kindred soul of my dad."
He gave her a blank look.
"Really into Muggle stuff," she explained. "Anyway, he agreed to try penicillin, a Muggle drug that kills bacteria," she added. He was giving her another blank look. "I gave him an I.V., and there seemed to be some improvement over the next few days. It stopped working for him, but I think there's something there!" she finished excitedly, sloshing some of her wine on the floor. She tapped her wand on the spot, and the stain disappeared.
"Something where?" he asked.
"Antibiotics," she said. "Dragon meningitis is caused by bacteria, it's just too strong for Muggle drugs, but if we were to use it as a starting point..."
His eyes became bright as he realized the potential of what she had just said. He'd secretly always thought her a little strange, for focusing so much of her time on Muggle medicine, but now he saw that it might not have been such a waste of time. The two brought their proposal to the school and were given permission to run with it. They made a great team. Vishwas provided the potions expertise, and Ginny the Muggle science. The rest, as they say, was history.
The first letter was from Vishwas, and it contained good news. The preliminary results were in from the three hospitals that were running trials of augmentin potion, and there was an eighty five percent cure rate. The letter was accompanied by several sheets of data, which she placed on top of the latest draft of her article. The letter continued to detail tweaks to the formula that he wanted to make. They had decided that the main problem was that the potion worked too well, and often killed more than the targeted type of bacteria, some of which the patient needed to aid in his recovery. Their new course of action was to slow it down over several doses, in the hopes that only the infectious bacteria would be destroyed.
The second letter was from Carol, her mentor and advisor at the medical school. She was responsible for overseeing the project and making sure the school's money was not being mismanaged. It wasn't a terribly difficult job for her. Apparently she had taken it upon herself to book Ginny and Vishwas on a radio program to discuss their innovation. She didn't know how to feel about that so she put the letter aside, and decided to worry about it later.
The third and final letter was from Vishwas, again. It was short and contained the somewhat urgent phrase, "I need to speak with you." She looked at the clock; it was eleven thirty. She should be in bed, but she knew that he wouldn't be. She took a handful of Floo powder, and threw it into her fireplace, speaking his address. Vishwas' face appeared in the flames.
"Gin!" he said, smiling. "How was the date?"
"Terrible, but I don't want to talk about it," she said, sitting on the floor. "What's up?"
"Did you get my letter?" he asked. "What do you think of the changes?"
"They looked fine," she said. "But we can talk about that tomorrow, at our meeting to discuss the latest formula," she said pointedly. "What's up?"
"You know me too well," he said, smiling. "Daya's pregnant, we just found out."
"Vish, that's great news!" she said enthusiastically. "How far along is she?"
"About six weeks," he said, still grinning. "You're actually the first person we've been able to get a hold of to tell."
"I'm honored." She stifled a yawn. This time it was genuine.
"Are you still on the early shift?" he asked.
She nodded. "Always."
"I'll let you get to sleep, then. We can talk tomorrow."
"Congratulations," she said. "Give my love to Daya."
"I will. Sleep well."
She stood up, put her ice cream away, and went to bed, with a much lighter heart than she had had earlier in the evening.
* * * * *
"'Morning, Gin. How was the date?"
Ginny made a thumbs-down gesture at her fellow healer, as she entered the break room of Creagor Memorial's emergency room.
"Really? You seemed excited about him."
She spun around and placed a hand on her hip. "Words can't even describe how bad it was," she said, and then quickly added, by way of clarification, "And I wasn't excited about him. I was excited about the prospect of new conversation and eating a meal that was neither from the cafeteria, nor take away pizza." She resumed her trek to the coffee pot.
He chuckled. "Careful what you wish for. So you're still single, then?" he asked, following her.
Ginny smiled, knowing she was walking into a scheme of some kind. "Yep," she said, good-naturedly.
"Good," said Troy. "Becs has someone she'd like you to meet. He's English, and seems like an okay guy."
"No," Ginny said, firmly. She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a deep drink. Troy was still standing behind her.
"Can you come over this weekend?" he asked pleasantly, undeterred by her answer.
"No," she repeated.
"Oh, come on, Gin. You owe me."
"What do I owe you?" she asked indignantly.
"I covered your shifts, while you were in England!" he said, triumphantly.
She wished she had a clever retort for him, but it was true. "This is how you want to call in your favor?" she asked, skeptically.
"No, I'd rather you cover my shifts while I take Becky to Hawaii, to propose to her," he said, honestly. "She wants you to meet her colleague, and I can always get Jeremy to cover for me while I'm gone."
"You're going to propose?" she asked, with a slightly goofy smile. She'd known Troy for a long time, and this was a big step for him.
"Yeah," he said, his face brightening. "So, will you come over?"
She sighed. "All right," she said. "I'll meet him, but I really can't this weekend. I'm working at G.U."
"How about Monday?" he asked.
"Fine," she relinquished.
He put his arm around her shoulder, and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks, sweetie," he said.
"You're welcome, dear," she replied sarcastically before pushing him away. "Now go home," she directed. "You look dead on your feet."
"I'll see you Monday. Come on over around seven thirty or so." He closed his locker door, and put a pair of sunglasses on his face. "Have a good weekend," he said as he walked out of the room.
"You too," she called after him. She placed her wand in her robe's pocket and left the room, coffee in hand, to perform her rounds. She looked at the board; it had been a relatively slow night, and blessedly it seemed to carry over to the morning. There were no new meningitis cases at the time, but there was still plenty of work to be done. She walked briskly up the stairs to the infectious disease ward.
Her first patient had a severe case of measles, a Muggle disease that had worked its way to wizard children in the last several years. Treatment was a modified potion that they gave people for dragon pox. Ginny, being who she was, generally added an IV of Ringer's lactate, to help keep them hydrated. So far there had only been minimal objections from patients and family members. She found that people were pretty open-minded when she calmly explained what she wanted to do, and why she wanted to do it. She had a special "doctor" tone of voice for times like those. It was calm and reassuring, and it had taken years for her to perfect.
Her shift ended on time, and without any major medical emergencies. She immediately flooed to the medical school, where Vishwas' lab was. He was hunched over his desk making notes on a scroll. She decided to leave him to his work, for the moment and checked on the interns in the lab.
Several people stood over a large cauldron making notes on clipboards. Ginny walked over to them.
"Hi, guys," she said brightly. "How's it looking?"
They looked up. Ted, the senior lab tech smiled. "I think we are very close with this last one," he said.
"Great," she said. "Let's head on over to the office and discuss it for a while." He gave some instructions to the others and followed her over to Vishwas' office, which was attached to the lab. He had finished his notes and was waiting for them expectantly.
The meeting was short, and almost unnecessary, but they had established a pattern of weekly meetings to brainstorm and keep everyone on the same page, and they were reluctant to discontinue them. Even when Ginny had been in England she had joined them via Floo. After business was taken care of, they chatted for a few minutes. Vishwas was ecstatic about the pregnancy, but he yielded the floor to Ginny, as she succumbed to the their constant inquiries about just how terrible her date could possibly have been. By the time she got to the part where he choked, neither he nor Ted could hold back their laughter any longer. The three of them left the office, with bright eyes and big smiles.
* * * * *
An hour and a half later, she entered her flat, burdened with several bags of groceries. It had been over a month since she had been able to get to the store, and she was ecstatic that she had not only finished early enough to shop for food, but that she also had enough energy to cook herself dinner, and maybe even get some exercise afterwards. Once she crossed her threshold she switched to magic and floated her groceries into the kitchen where they put themselves away. She cooked herself a delicious, yet nutritious dinner and went for a jog around her city before getting to bed early. She was going to have a long day tomorrow.
* * * * *
Draco
The June afternoon was hot and muggy. It was the perfect kind of day to sit in the shade, drink a cold beer, and people watch. Too bad he was in the hot sun watching an alcohol-free Little League game. He slathered another layer of sunscreen on his arms, face and neck, but he was sure he'd be pink the next day. He whistled and clapped as Sam came up to bat. "Come on, Sam!" he called. "You can do it!" He whistled again. She smiled and waved at him from home plate, and then cocked the bat behind her head and concentrated on the pitcher.
He was three months into his stay in the United States. Three months filled with research that hadn't yielded any particular results, bigotry that never seemed to diminish, and a feeling of boredom and helplessness that seemed to permeate every cell in his body over the last several, stagnant weeks since they had effectively finished their list of suspects but had no new leads.
He had thought that once they reached this point, he'd be able to return to London until they found something new, but Nym had squashed that dream by Obliviating everyone in his department, save for Joe. They thought he was on sabbatical, and had stopped his per diem. The red tape battle with the Ministry to be compensated for the lost income had lasted several weeks, but they finally pulled through. He was still upset with Nym over effectively being stranded in the New World, but at least he didn't have to cover his own expenses too. Joe's job was also made that much more difficult, because he had to do everything in secret.
Where Draco would normally have multiple cases to occupy his attentions, this was the only case on which he was allowed to work in America. So for the time being there was only the Park Slayer, or "Magician," as the American media had dubbed him, to occupy his thoughts. Going through every middle-aged white male who had entered the country during the time frame he was considering had been bad enough, but doing nothing but waiting for new evidence was driving him slowly mad. Rebecca had other cases that she was working, but he couldn't legally help her with them – although, sometimes they "chatted" about them. Sarah, Brian, and Bill were in the same predicament as he. They had no other cases and were starting to strain under the boredom. Even still, Draco couldn't have asked for a better team. It had been a credit to their characters when they delved into the research without complaint, and it was a credit to their skill that they had compiled the list of suspects – all 2,345 of them – in seven short weeks. The next task had been to cross-reference those suspects with the rosters from Hogwarts and the nine wizard academies that were scattered across America. Once they had done that, they still had several hundred people to consider, but they really couldn't trust the new list, because there were a lot of American wizards that had never gone to a formal school. The five of them attempted to devise ways of narrowing the list further, but nothing had been terribly effective, and they seemed to have run out of ideas.
On the flip side of the coin, Washington was a beautiful city, and he had leased his own flat in the heart of it. He had struck up a decent friendship with Rebecca and Troy, who he found to have a nice counterpoint to Rebecca's personality, and he had formed a solid team at the DoE.
One month after his arrival in America:
Draco stepped out of the Metro Station and breathed the fresh May air. It was early in the morning, but the streets were full of people dressed in suits and talking on their cell phones whilst drinking coffee and finishing up the last of their grooming regimens. Draco sidestepped a woman who was somehow able to apply her eyeliner at the same time that she was holding what looked like two different conversations and drinking her coffee, (he'd had enough girlfriends to know to be impressed by her incredible display of multitasking), and entered the Muggle entrance to the Department of Magic.
He nodded to the security guard, who now knew him by sight, as he passed through the metal detectors and entered the elevator that took him to the main lobby of the department.
He passed Janice without acknowledgement and made his way to his small office. He was pleased to see Sarah, Brian, and Bill hard at work pouring over the bios of their potential suspects. At least Sarah, and Brian were working hard. Bill, who had proclaimed from the beginning that he was better at action than research, was balling up pieces of parchment and throwing them into the waste paper bin in increasingly creative ways. "Morning," Draco said, ousting Bill from his chair and sitting down.
The others murmured their greetings.
Draco yawned and scrubbed his face with his hands. "We're almost done, right?" he asked, leaning his chair back as far as it would go. He gave a small jerk when he felt it go too far back, but was able to right himself.
"In the grand scheme of things we are," said Brian, not looking up from his book, and jotting down another name. "I mean the Earth is over four billion years old, right? What's another month of mind numbing research compared to that?" He closed his book and Accio'ed the next off of the tall stack in the corner.
"Right," Draco said. "It's good to keep perspective on everything." He stifled another yawn and got to work.
The morning passed quickly enough. At noon several owls flew by his open office door signaling the delivery of external mail, and lunchtime for the small group. Draco knew that it was more efficient for them to take staggered lunch breaks, but he had established, early on, the ritual of going out together and getting to know each other. For instance, on such outings he had learned that the story of Bill's disgrace wasn't so much an act of insubordination, as his file had implied, but a rather amusing tale of Bill dating, and also being caught in a compromising position with Fletcher's college-aged daughter. He had learned that Sarah had aspirations of one day being America's second female Director of Magic, and that Brian's article on the Relevance of Forensic Practices to the Modern Enforcer, which he wrote while attending the academy, not only won him an award but was also published in several newspapers across the country – something his bio had neglected to mention. In return for these glimpses into their personalities, he told them the story of being piss drunk and locked outside of his dormitory completely starkers in the middle of January. They dropped his formal title of "Inspector Malfoy" after that, and referred to him as "Draco" or "Malfoy".
Draco stood up and stretched. "So what do you reckon?" he asked. "I could do with Greek myself."
"I'm in the mood for a good burger," said Bill.
"Me too," added Brian.
"I could go for a salad," Sarah chimed in. "But I suppose I can get that anywhere," she added as an afterthought.
"I guess we go pub fare," said Draco.
They were filing out of his office when an owl and a paper airplane flew through the entrance and landed on his desk. "Hang on a moment," he said to the others as he relieved the owl of its burden and unfolded the airplane. He leaned against his desk and scanned his letters. The owl had carried Tonks' reminder that he needed to be more frequent in his updates, lest she send Harry out to help him. He gave a small shudder at the thought. Her letter closed, less than professionally, asking him to give her love to Jude and the others.
The paper airplane was the answer to his request to enlarge his office. Apparently the building's architectural design didn't allow certain stress points to be altered physically. His tiny office fell into that category. Draco's dreams of having an office with a sofa crashed to the ground. He crumpled up the letter and threw it in the bin, leaving Nym's letter on the desk as a reminder to write her back.
He got up and went to lunch with his colleagues. When they returned, Rebecca was seated at his desk, studying one of the books, and munching on an apple. She marked the page and closed the book when they arrived. Draco saw a small list of names and their corresponding pages for reference, next to the text. She must have just missed them.
"Hi," she said. "Anything exciting happen?"
"Yes," said Draco, dryly. "We solved the case, arrested the suspect, and had tea."
She smiled. "Perfect, I knew you could do it. Go team."
With the sarcasm out of the way they held their meeting.
Everyone gathered around, and sat on chairs, his desk and the floor. Rebecca started with something that had been weighing heavily on everyone's minds. "We should be finding another body soon," she said, gravely. "Three to six weeks in between kills, and another three to six weeks before we find his victim. The FBI has decided to get a leg up on the aftermath and has compiled a list of missing persons. There are five women who would be potential targets for our suspect." She passed around file folders to everyone. "We're working on the same thing but we need you to start cross referencing your current and future lists of suspects for possible connections."
Sarah cleared her throat. "Haven't these attacks been random?" she asked, sounding slightly confused. They had been spending so much of their time on possible identities that they hadn't ever discussed motivations. Connections to Kristen Adams had already been considered before they had even begun.
Draco spoke from his perch on his desk. "Nothing is completely random," he explained. "While he probably doesn't know them personally, he likely doesn't go too far out of his way to find his victims. I suspect that in London he hired prostitutes to take the place of the women he really wanted to kill. That combined with our free Apparition laws meant that he didn't need live or work anywhere near his victims. He's more restricted here." He turned to Rebecca. "We'll refine our list," he said. "Good work."
"I'm free for the rest of the day," she said, opening up her book to the page she left had left off. Draco let her have the desk and chair and sat on the floor with his back against the wall.
After they had called it a night, Draco and Rebecca had dinner together, as Troy was still working afternoons and evenings.
"How's the new apartment?" she asked, after they had ordered.
"It's well," he answered. "I assembled my sofa, and table last night, and my Floo will be hooked up tomorrow."
"When's the house warming party gonna be?" she asked.
"When I move back to my flat in London," he said. "It will be a re-warming party, you should come."
"Ha ha," she said sarcastically.
"I'll tell you what, I'll invite you and Troy over for dinner... as soon as I buy more chairs."
"How many did you buy?" she asked skeptically.
"One," he answered as if it were obvious. "I work all day and eat all of my meals out," he defended himself against the look she was giving him. "For that lifestyle one needs precisely one bed..." He started ticking the list on his fingers. "One sofa, for the off chance one isn't tired enough to go to sleep as soon as one gets home. One table, and one chair, so that if one ever needs to eat at home one will have somewhere to sit, and a telly, because the flat comes with cable and one doesn't want to waste the money, and so one can keep up with the news on those rare evenings that one isn't tired enough to go to sleep as soon as one arrives home," he finished, smugly.
She was silent for a moment and then started laughing. She shook her head in defeat, and started eating the dinner that had just arrived. "Is that how you live in London too?" she asked after a while.
He took a sip of his beer and answered, "No. In London I get to live a semi normal life. I go to the occasional murder scene, write a detailed and completely accurate profile and give it to the people who chase after the bad guy, as said profile inevitably leads to an arrest. Then I get to go home, cook dinner and relax."
"Except for The Magician," she reminded him.
"Except for The Park Slayer," he confirmed. "The profile's still changing, and my job doesn't end, and then I get promoted to magical detective by my cousin."
"I'm deeply sympathetic to your terrible plight," she said sarcastically.
"Clearly no one suffers more than I," he said, grinning.
Later that night, he entered his flat and flopped on to his bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
It had taken them another three weeks to finish the list of suspects, and then there was nothing else to do. No new body had turned up, and Draco's days were spent trying to top Bill in creative dust bin tosses, and trying to coax information about Rebecca's other cases from her. Which is perhaps the reason he practically jumped at the chance to help Jude and Tom when they asked.
He was closer than ever to the Millers. It was great living so near to them. He was at their house practically every weekend, and had been given the title of Uncle by his two youngest cousins.
He liked Sam because she always told the truth, no matter how blunt. Once she learned to curb her mouth, it would likely be an asset for her. If he had to guess, she would probably be a Gryffindor, or a Hufflepuff, like her auntie Dora. But he didn't hold that against her. She was so down to earth that he found it easy to talk to her like a person, rather than a child. She was even a good sounding board for his problems. She definitely didn't hold back if she thought he was being silly. The two had struck up an unlikely friendship during his tenure in DC, which is why he didn't mind melting to death in the ninety-degree heat while she played in her baseball match. He had even looked up the rules beforehand, so he would know what the hell was going on.
Kevin, on the other hand, had a streak of Slytherin in him. He was very sly and covert, even at three. He would definitely keep Jude and Tom on their toes, and it was very amusing to watch sometimes. He was with his parents in Philadelphia at the moment, though, and Draco wasn't ashamed to admit that he was a little relieved that he didn't have to watch him, too.
Several days before, Draco had been woken up in the early hours of the morning by his phone. Jude was on the other end of the call, and she was in distress. Tom's father had had a heart attack and they needed to go to him. Sam had summer school, though, and she couldn't miss it. Would he be able to stay with her for a few days? Draco hadn't hesitated. He had thrown on some clothes, packed a small bag, and taken a cab straight over to Jude's. He had been living at the house for almost a week, and the two of them were doing fine. The fact that he couldn't drive had been a hindrance, but only a small one.
Crack! The sound of bat hitting ball reminded Draco of his surroundings. Sam had connected with the ball and had begun rounding the bases. Draco stood up and cheered her on. As Sam dived for home plate three things happened. 1) She collided with the catcher; 2) The umpire made the safe gesture; and 3) Sam screamed in pain as she clutched her arm to her chest. Draco raced down the bleachers over to her. One of the mothers, a nurse, got there first. She was examining the rapidly swelling arm.
"I think it's broken," she said, as Draco crouched down next to them, and patted Sam's back reassuringly. "You should take her to the hospital to have it x-rayed."
"Right," Draco said, standing up fighting his urge to panic. She was not, after all, mortally wounded. "Where's the closest one?"
"It's not far from here, it's Georgetown University Hospital. I can drive with you and give you directions if you want."
Draco helped Sam up, carefully. "That'd be great, except I don't drive. Would you be willing to give us a ride? I can contribute gas money," he added, needlessly.
"Don't be silly," she said. "Of course I'll take you."
Sam was still crying, as she and Draco followed the woman and her son to the car. As they passed her coach, he gave Sam an enthusiastic thumbs up. "We couldn't have done it without you, Sammy," he said. "Get better soon. We'll need you for the playoffs." Sam smiled through her tears.
* * * * *
The hospital waiting room was packed with people who had a variety of sicknesses and injuries. He guided Sam to a chair, as far away from anyone with an open wound or who was hacking up a lung as he could find. He went up to the reception desk and began filling out the forms. A couple of hours later, their name was called and he walked with Sam to the examination room.
* * * * *
Ginny sat at a table in the lounge, finishing up some paper work and drinking coffee. She thought that if she played her cards right, she might get to leave a few minutes early. At least, she did until her recently married friend, Jennifer, came into the room with a clipboard that she threw on the table in front of her.
"I've got one for you: a little girl with a broken arm!" she said excitedly.
Ginny looked up from her work. "I'm off in ten minutes, can't someone else take it?" She did her best to keep the whinge out of her voice, but didn't quite succeed.
"Kevin's on vacation, Mason already left, Charlie's late, again, I already owe Allison an extra shift of her choosing and I have theatre tickets." She stuck out her bottom lip and batted her eyelashes. "Besides the dad's English, you can talk to him."
"You do realize that you speak English, right? In fact it's the language that we're speaking to each other right now."
"Yeah but I say truck instead of lorry, and elevator instead of lift. It's like a completely different language, and did I mention he's cute and not wearing a wedding ring?"
"Ah," Ginny said getting to the crux of the matter. "Trying to marry off the whole world again?"
"Not the whole world, just you. You're too pretty not to have someone."
Ginny rolled her eyes at this. Jennifer continued looking at her with puppy dog eyes. "Fine," she relinquished. "I'll take your case, if you run these up to the lab for me." She handed the stack of papers, and a few vials of blood to her friend.
"Thanks, Gin, I owe you one."
"You owe me twelve at this point," she said sourly.
"Yeah, well, they're in exam room two." Jennifer left with the paper work, and a clear pass to leave early for her show.
Ginny sighed as she walked down the hall to exam room two. She was tired, it had been a long day and if Charlie didn't show up for his shift, she would probably have to stay even longer. Today alone she had been bled on, vomited on twice, and hit on by two drunks and a twelve-year-old boy. Despite all of this, she put a smile on her face as she opened the door to the exam room.
Draco sat next to the table on which Sam now sat. Her arm was very swollen but she was no longer crying, in fact, she didn't look to be in any pain at all. He filed this away as something to bring up to Jude about: this little girl - who was swinging her legs and staring at an anti-smoking poster on the wall - was definitely a witch. He looked up as the door opened and a woman in navy scrubs walked into the room; there was a stethoscope around her neck, labeling her as a doctor, and her red hair was pulled back in a messy braid. She wore a smile but it didn't quite reach her eyes. It looked like this had been a rough day for her.
"Hello." Her voice had more cheer in it than he would have expected, and he was surprised to hear a South West accent. "Which one of you is Samantha?"
Draco smiled slightly at her joke and Sam, who had been becoming increasingly nervous, giggled. "She is," he said pointing.
Ginny crouched down so she was eye level with the girl. "Hello, Samantha, I'm Dr. Ginny. Is it okay if I look at your arm?"
Sam nodded and held out her swollen arm.
Ginny probed it feeling for fractures. "How did this happen?" she asked, conversationally.
Draco cleared his throat. "Sliding into home plate."
"Did you score?"
The girl smiled. "Yeah, we won."
"I bet your dad's very proud," she said, smiling slightly at him. "Does this hurt at all?" her attention was back on her task.
The little girl shook her head. "Oh, that's not Dad, that's Uncle Draco."
Ginny's eyes widened and her face paled. She stared at 'Uncle Draco,' who was smiling at his niece. How could she have missed who he was? "Draco… Draco Malfoy?"
He looked up. "Er-yes, sorry, do I know you?"
She blinked a few times, trying to regain control of her brain and flatly replied, "You're better acquainted with my brother." She watched as recognition flashed in his eyes.
"You're the Weasel girl, aren't you?" he said without thinking and looking just as shocked as she was.
Her cheeks flushed, and her jaw tightened, but she said nothing as she continued with her examination of Samantha who had been watching the encounter curiously, still not showing any signs of pain. She should be in pain, too. This was a nasty break. Realization dawned on her face as she made the connection. It was a fairly common use of magic in young witches and wizards. "This doesn't hurt at all?" she asked making sure of her theory.
Sam shook her head. "Uh, uh."
"All right, dear." Ginny let go of the child's arm. "Will you wait here while I speak with your uncle for a moment?" She handed Sam the stethoscope that she'd noticed her eyeing during the exam. "I keep losing this, would you mind holding on to it for me? I know you'll keep it safe." Sam beamed as she took the instrument.
Ginny opened the door to the hall and allowed Draco to precede her out. "Why didn't you take her to Creagor Memorial?" she asked, as she closed the door. "She could be home right now playing another round of baseball, or something."
Draco was mildly taken aback, he had half been expecting her to accuse him of breaking Sam's arm as some kind of Death Eater ritual, but he answered her truthfully. "She doesn't know she's a witch, I figured a Wizarding Hospital would be a bit much, and then I'd have her mother to contend with." He smiled, sheepishly.
Ginny's eyes widened, again, in surprise; first at his statement, then at the smile, which was completely different from the trademark scowl that had graced his face all through school. She sighed; this was going to mean staying even longer. "Okay, here's the deal: her wrist is badly broken and I can give you two options. Option one: I send you upstairs for an X-ray, her break is set and cast, and we send you home. Option two: I change the break into a sprain, send her up for an X-ray, she gets a bandage rather than a cast, and I heal it all the way before you leave - although I suppose we could leave it sprained, call that option two-A. Unfortunately it does have to be X-rayed. Too many people have already seen it for me to fix it completely right now, and that much magic would probably confuse her."
Draco was frankly impressed by her professionalism, especially after the Weasel comment. He could tell she had wanted to retort after that too, but she hadn't. He smiled gratefully and took option two. There was no reason why Sam should have to spend the rest of the summer in a cast, or a bandage. Ginny left to get her wand, and he went back into the room with Sam. She was listening to her heartbeat. Draco lifted the earpiece off of her head. "It won't be much longer now, kid. Dr. Weasley will be right back."
"She's pretty."
"You think?"
"Yeah, and she's nice." Sam went back to her heart.
Draco leaned back in his chair and tried to remember what he knew about the youngest Weasley. He could remember a quiet girl who had followed Potter around like a lovesick puppy, and the embarrassment of her little Bogey hex in his fifth year, but nothing that would explain how she had ended up working in a Muggle hospital in Washington, DC. Had he ever thought about what she'd be doing fifteen years after Hogwarts, it probably would have included minding after Potter's half-blind progeny.
She walked back into the room, pulled her wand out of her pocket, and very deftly, he thought, changed the break into a sprain - without Sam even noticing that she had done anything at all. He watched as she wrote something on a pad and handed it to him.
"Give this to April, on the fourth floor, and she'll set you up for an X-ray. Bring her back down to see me before you leave and I'll finish her up." Samantha handed her back her stethoscope. "Thank you for looking after this for me. It was very nice meeting you." She shook Sam's outstretched, healthy hand.
"Thank you, Dr. Ginny," she said politely.
Draco was about to thank Ginny for all of her help, when a wheeled stretcher was rushed past the window. A nurse stuck his head in the door.
"Ginny we need you, rape victim, severed carotid, her vitals are dropping. Charlie's still not here yet."
"Hell," she said and then ran out the door.
Bells went off in Draco's head as he heard the description of the injuries. "Wait here," he said to Sam as he followed the commotion down the hall. Through the small windows in the doors to the trauma room, he watched as Ginny and many others worked tirelessly to save the young woman's life. Alarms were going off and Ginny started CPR, while someone else charged the defibrillator. He silently prayed, to any god who might be listening, that she lived long enough for him to question her about her assailant. He grabbed Sam, took her up to the fourth floor, and entrusted her to April with a hurried apology, and promises of candy and ponies. Then he rushed back down to the emergency room just in time to see Ginny stop compressions and say something that looked suspiciously like 'time of death...' Draco swore and punched the wall.
Inside the trauma room Ginny called time of death as the various machines were turned off. She stared down at the pretty young woman in front of her and hated who ever it was that had done this to her. She started to remove her gloves and gown.
"Dammit!" She heard from outside in the hall followed by a thump. She could see Malfoy pacing back and forth down the hall talking furiously into his cell phone. She threw her gloves and gown in the receptacle and stepped into the hall.
"No one touches anything until I get there, do you understand me? Secure the area but leave the site to me!"
He hung up his phone and ran a hand through his hair; she could see that the knuckles on his right hand were bruising and swollen. He turned around and scanned the room; when his eyes landed on her, he approached. There was an air of command around him. He looked furious, and Ginny was instantly put in mind of schoolboy Draco, whenever Harry caught the snitch first. She braced herself for whatever ridiculous demand he would have of her. They had probably run out of pink bandages upstairs or something.
"Who will be performing the rape kit?"
She was not expecting this question and faltered as she replied, "I-I suppose the pathologist and the police – they're like Aurors," she added in explanation.
He gave her the briefest of strange looks before he was back to being serious. "I need you to be there, too. Search for any evidence of magic use. When you finish, call me at this number." He handed her his card, then headed for the elevators, presumably to go up to X-ray.
She stared after him until she could no longer see him, and then looked down at the card. In addition to his name and phone number, it was embossed with insignias she recognized as those of the Ministry of Magic, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the FBI, and after a moment of thought, she realized the fourth was Scotland Yard. Just what had Draco Malfoy been up to since he left school? She went back into the lounge and put the card and her wand away in her locker. She was about to leave to go back to the rape victim and see what spells she could find when the elusive Charlie came in.
"Hey, Gin, didn't think you'd still be here. Waiting for me?"
She narrowed her eyes a little.
Charlie was a brilliant doctor; the problem was that he knew it, and thus he tended to be irritatingly conceited. What was even more irritating was that he masked his conceit with charm, and women tended to fall all over themselves to share his bed – even when he was on the night shift, like he had been lately. When they had first met he had asked her out often, but she, at least, proved immune to his charms, or she pretended to be, which amounted to the same thing. They now shared an easy work friendship.
"Just finishing a couple of cases," she said a bit stiffly. "Why are you late, an emergency blonde?"
He put a hand on his heart. "That hurts, Ginny. I'll have you know she was a brunette." He grinned, good-naturedly, as she threw a pen at him; he caught it and put it in his lab coat pocket. "When are you going to realize that you're hopelessly in love with me?"
"When you come to work on time," she replied, walking out the door.
* * * * *
She arrived at the trauma room just in time to see an attendant wheeling the victim into the hallway.
"You're done with her, right?" he asked.
"Yes. Are you taking her down stairs?"
He nodded. "Yes, Doctor."
"I'll go with you if you don't mind."
He shrugged and started to the elevator.
As she walked beside the young woman, she understood why Malfoy had wanted her to be around for the postmortem examination. Cleaning charms had been used on her body. She doubted there would be much for the pathologist to discover. It wasn't her job to find them, but she suspected there would be no fingerprints on the woman, and if the killer had removed his fingerprints, then it would stand to reason that he had removed his semen, as well.
She found herself going over a timeline in her head. If he had been caught in the act of raping her, it wouldn't take more than, maybe, thirty seconds to slice the girls throat clumsily – and it had been done clumsily: had the ambulance had been able to reach her sooner or the hospital been closer, she might have survived – cast two or three cleaning charms, and Apparate the hell out of there. The cop, or whoever had found them wouldn't have stood a chance. But still, why cut her throat at all? Surely it would be far simpler to just use the Killing Curse and leave. The punishment would be the same. They arrived at the morgue and as a technician checked them in, the attendant took his leave to go back to work.
"When do you expect to perform the autopsy, Dr. Martin?" she asked the pathologist who had entered the room as the young woman was being placed in a locker.
"A "Special Agent Salinger" just called. They're bringing in someone from the FBI to do it. I'm to wait until he gets here. Why?"
"I'd like to be there when it happens."
Dr. Martin looked surprised. "You would?" he asked disbelievingly.
Ginny corrected her earlier statement, "I've been asked to be there when it happens."
He shrugged. "It's up to the FBI, Dr. Weasley. It'll be done tonight, if you want to wait."
Ginny sighed "Thank you." She sat down in the chair opposite his desk and stared at the crossword he had started earlier. She was looking around for a pencil when Draco walked in.
"Did you find anything?" he asked.
Ginny stood up. "There were some cleaning charms; I'll know more later when they do the autopsy."
Draco nodded. "I appreciate you doing this, um—" he paused awkwardly. "It's getting kind of late, and I should be getting Sam home, plus I have to get out to the scene before someone mucks it up. Do you think you could finish with her arm? I'd do it myself, but I'd probably mess it up, somehow."
Once again, Ginny was surprised. The man standing in front of her was thanking her, and humble, and actually looked grateful. Draco Malfoy looked grateful. It was almost more than she could handle. She did her best to hide her surprise, as she answered, "Of course, just let me get my wand; I'll meet you in the waiting room." She followed him down the hall, but veered off to stop at her locker. She grabbed her wand and caught a glimpse of herself in the small mirror she kept in her locker. Her hair was messy and there were bags under her eyes; she looked awful. "Figures," she mumbled.
Draco was sitting with the sleeping girl on his lap; he was checking his watch, and tapping his foot. She grabbed a lollipop from the reception desk and walked over to them. "All better," she said, quietly after tapping the girl's wrist and muttering the incantation.
Draco looked up. "Thanks, I need to get her home." He paused while he stood up. "If you could find out the exact cleaning charms he used, that would be very helpful to me. Call me at that number when you find out. Thanks again."
"Are you going to fill me in on any of this?"
Draco looked at the clock on the wall, "Not at the moment." He turned to leave.
"Oh… Malfoy." He looked back, she held up the sucker. "I'd say she's earned this today." She put it on his shirt front pocket as his hands were occupied holding his sleeping niece.
"Thanks," he said returning her small smile, before heading outside, where there was a cab waiting.
She went back down to the morgue and waited for the FBI to come for the young woman. Dr. Martin was sitting at his desk working on the crossword. "Thirteen down is 'Merlin'," she said as she sat opposite him.
He looked up. "You sure?"
Ginny nodded. "Pretty sure."
* * * * *
By the time she got home, it was almost ten, five hours after her twelve-hour shift had ended officially. She stumbled into her apartment, grabbed a slice of leftover pizza from the fridge, flopped onto her sofa, and turned on the television. The ten o'clock news was about to start. She knew she would never have the energy to stay up for the eleven o'clock broadcast. As it was, she fell asleep before the news even began, missing the report about a serial rapist / murderer striking again, and the live footage of a certain blond man snapping photos behind the police tape.
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks so much to AutumnKisses402 for pinch-hit beta job. Thanks also to Kazfeist and Lina for looking at this chapter as well.
The next chapter is well underway and shouldn't take as long to post as this one did.
And finally, as always, thank you for reading.