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A/N: We're nearing the end of what I have written and as I've just started a new job, I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write, so unfortunately updates may become a tad more infrequent. I shall do my best.
GMGMGMGM
Once in a Lullaby
Draco stormed towards his office, silently cursing his father for making the parlour the only Apparition point in the Manor. He was back at square one. Hell, he didn't even know where square one began.
He slammed his office door as he strode to his desk, and threw his cloak over the couch. Whipping out his wand, he cast a spell on the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulled the drawer open to reveal its hidden contents; a large stack of unopened envelopes. He levitated them onto his desk, piling them so the first envelope out of the drawer found a new home at the base of the large pile.
He ripped open an envelope and pulled out a thick folder, flipping it open without hesitation. The tired face of Ginny Weasley, walking slowly out of St Mungo's, stared up at his thunderous gaze from the time and date stamped photograph.
GMGMGMG
"Hey, Gin," Alex said, sliding up beside Ginny as she absently wiped the bar with a cloth. "Where's your brother gone? Gotten sick of you already?"
Ginny glared playfully, throwing the cloth at Alex's chest. "No. He had to leave. Work stuff apparently. He shouldn't have taken the time off that he did so he had to go home."
"Oh, I'm sorry. He seemed like a good guy."
"Yeah, he is," Ginny said, smiling softly.
"So," Alex said, a bright smile lighting up his face. "You up for a shift at the Bronze tonight?"
Ginny's smile broadened. "You, Alex Brixson, are going to entrust me, Ginny Pearce, with the precious alcohol?"
"Mark quit. I have no one else," Alex replied with a shrug, pushing himself off the counter. He turned back to Ginny as he walked away. "You missed a spot," he said, throwing the rag at her.
"It would be so much easier if I could just charm you stain resistant," Ginny grumbled, staring down disdainfully at the counter.
GMGMGMGMG
"Master Draco, should learn to close doors softly when he is in a snit," Tilly admonished. "Malfoy Manor is old and its hinges untrustworthy." Draco shot Tilly a hateful glare as she placed a tray laden with coffee and dinner on his papers.
"Perhaps you could enlighten me as to why you thought putting the tray on my work would be beneficial to your life span?" Draco spat, pushing the tray aside. Coffee spilt, sloshing audibly, over the edge of the fine china.
"Master Draco, must take a break," Tilly said, unaffected by Draco's harsh demeanour. "Master Draco, will not figure out where his Ginny has gone if Master Draco is too tired and hungry to read."
"These," he said, waving a folder in the House elf's wide-eyed face, "are Malfoy Corporation related documents."
"And Tilly is really a goblin, Sir."
Draco shot her one last scowl before returning his attention to the slowly dwindling pile of unopened envelopes. Papers were strewn across his desk, remnants of envelopes lay torn and crumpled on the floor around him. Different angles of Ginny's face lying amongst the clutter.
Draco took his time reading through the files, taking notes of all things that struck him as important. He didn't know exactly how long he had been reading for, but he shut the blinds as the sun began to rise, the half light of the early morning casting shadows around his office.
Draco looked up at the sound of his office door opening smoothly, a sharp click resonating around the room, silent but for the sporadic scratching of his quill.
"What are you doing here, Greg?" Draco asked, distractedly, making another note on his scroll.
"Tilly Flooed me."
"Now why would she do that?" Draco asked, his quill pausing over the page as he looked up at Greg, eyebrows raised.
"She said something along the lines of 'Master Draco has lost his mind'."
"I most certainly have not!"
"So you haven't been reading these files for the past twenty four hours without so much as a tea break? Tilly was mistaken?"
"Tilly was not mistaken!" a high-pitched voice called through the door before Draco had a chance to answer. "Tilly is never wrong about her Master Draco. Tilly is good House Elf."
"Tilly is a soon to be a clothes-owning House Elf!" Draco called angrily, directing a spiteful glare at the closed door. While Draco was distracted, Greg took the opportunity to take a closer look at the mess of paper covering Draco's desk.
"Draco, what the hell is all this?" Greg asked softly, picking up a discarded folder and flicking quickly through it.
"Nothing of your concern," Draco said calmly, holding out his hand for the folder.
"Nothing of my concern?" Greg repeated incredulously. "Are all these files on the girl Weasel?"
"No, I believe there is one solely dedicated to Colin Creevey."
"Draco," Greg said firmly, looking directly into his friend's impassive eyes. "Have you been stalking Ginny Weasley?"
"I was not stalking her," Draco replied snidely. "I simply hired a Private Investigator to follow her. He sent me these reports. Besides," Draco added dismissively, "a stalker would have opened the reports long before now."
"Damn it, Draco," Greg thundered, slamming his hand down on the desk. Draco looked up at his childhood crony shocked. "Do you even care what it would look like if these were discovered? She's the Minister's daughter for Merlin's sake. Harry bleeding Potter's fiancée! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"I'm trying to find some clue as to where the bint has disappeared to!" Draco snapped. Greg stared at Draco astounded. "Or someone who had the resources to help her, or who she would tell where she was going. Something! Anything!"
Greg sighed, rubbing his forehead with one hand. One of these days he was going to kill Draco. The man was just a royal pain in the arse. "Anything standing out?" he asked finally, unable to help his inquisitorial nature.
"Mundane," Draco answered, pulling another folder off the diminished pile. "It's all mundane. She didn't see anyone out of the ordinary. Hell, she didn't do much of anything. Went to work, had lunch with Potter occasionally, went home. Did it all again the next day."
"How many files you got left?"
"Just those," he said, gesturing to a small pile to his left.
"How many files did you have originally?"
"Not sure. I had the private investigator send me a report once a week. Sometimes twice a week."
"Fine. Owl me if you have some kind of lead you want me to look into. One last question though." Draco looked up at Greg expectantly, irritation showing on his chiselled features. "How come you didn't hire me to tail her?"
GMGMGMGMG
Draco rubbed his eyes roughly as he felt his tired eyelids begin to flutter shut. He reached blindly for the coffee pot Tilly had left for him, spilling the tepid liquid across his desk. Draco growled, rushing to lift the photographs from the brown liquid that was seeping through the glossy paper. He shook the wet pages in his hand, flicking excess coffee onto to the floor.
Tiredly, he began casting drying spells on the sodden and stained photographs. "Fuck," he swore, throwing his wand and the photographs onto his desk. Slumping in his seat, he watched as the coffee soaked the photographs unhindered. His brow furrowed as he watched a stained and distorted Ginny, pouting to a figure in frame behind her. The figure, a man, patted Ginny's shoulder awkwardly, in an attempt to comfort her.
"Longbottom?" he breathed.
Draco picked up the photographs and carefully peeling them apart. He cast drying spells on them, before laying them neatly on his now coffee free desk. He looked intently at each photograph in turn. They were all of St. Mungo's. She had gone there once a fortnight. His private investigator had written that she went in for two hours, and he assumed that she volunteered in the Spell Damage Ward. However, he could not confirm it as one of the nurses had recognised him and refused to let him past the front desk, something to do with the patients' privacy at a vulnerable time in their lives or some rot. Draco took a quill and circled Longbottom in green ink. He was in every photograph, always close to Ginny but never beside her. He was in every single one.
"Greg!" he yelled into the emerald flames. "Greg, answer your damn Floo." A few moments later Greg appeared at the Floo, dirty dishes in hand.
"What is it, Draco?" he asked, shooting glances over his shoulder. "I'm a little busy at the moment."
"Tell the bint that I'll pay for her to come back tomorrow night," Draco retorted snidely. "I've got a job for you." Greg's eyes narrowed at Draco's remark.
"Like I said, Draco, I'm busy at the moment," he said coldly, emphasising the plates in his hands. "I'll come by tomorrow."
"Honestly, Greg, how dumb are you? The whole point in paying is that you don't have to bother with dinner."
With a final glare, Greg shut off the Floo Call. Draco stared into the flickering red and orange flames in shock. Greg had disconnected them. He'd disconnected a Floo Call with him. Draco slung his cloak over his shoulders as he stormed to the parlour, whipping a House-Elf in the face with the expensive material. He ignored Tilly as she admonished him, for being cruel to Chinky.
Apparating outside Greg's penthouse flat, Draco raised an eyebrow at Greg's lax security, and opened the door with a simple Alohomora.
"Goyle!" he bellowed, slamming the door shut behind him. "What the hell did you-" he stopped abruptly as he rounded the corner into Goyle's living room. He was met with a blushing Greg, who was scrambling off his shirtless partner, hurriedly buckling his belt, his shirt hanging open.
"Well, that explains how you knew so much about Weasley's disappearance," Draco said calmly, raising his eyebrows and looking between a livid Greg and a confused Percy Weasley.
GMGMGMGMG
"Get out," Greg said softly and dangerously, his shirt buttoned unevenly.
"What's crawled up your skirt?" Draco sneered. "And bloody hell, Greg, do up your fly!"
"What's crawled up… what's crawled up my… oh I don't know, Draco. It could be that you just broke into my flat and told Percy that I've been passing on information he told me in confidence to you! Draco fucking Malfoy!"
"So buy him some flowers," Draco sneered dismissively. "This is more important than some piece of arse. I was going through the photos-"
"Oh bloody hell, Draco, there are more important things then where Ginny Weasley has run off to! Its your own damn fault she's not here so why don't you go find a nice tart to shag and bloody well get over it!"
"She-"
"Is fine," Greg interrupted hotly. "Bill already told you she's fine!"
"If she was so ruddy fine, why did she up and leave in the middle of the bloody night!"
Greg sighed exasperatedly, scrubbing his furrowed brow with his large hand. "Draco," he said softly, forcing himself to remain calm. "You have to let her go."
"No," Draco said coldly. "I don't." He dropped a thin wad of folders on the coffee table beside him. "I expect the results of your investigation in twenty-four hours," he said, slamming the front door hard behind him.
GMGMGMGMG
Ginny absentmindedly drummed her fingers on the bar, watching the patrons of the slowly filling Bronze. She broke the rhythm as a customer approached her, raising her voice over the loud music and forcing Ginny to remember just how Alex had told her to make an apple martini. She spotted Alex laughing at her as she placed the green drink on the bar with a flourish five minutes later, smiling brightly at the disgruntled woman in front of her. She glanced over at Alex, who was making his way to the stage, preparing to introduce the live act for this evening, and he gave her double thumbs up, smiling geekily back at her.
She flopped down on her bed around midnight. The Bronze had still been full of people but Alex had shooed her home. She lay exhausted beneath the warmth of her quilt, her mind whirring. The quiet of her flat let her think for the first time that day. Talking to Bill had brought back so many memories that she had worked hard to repress. His face floated in her minds eye, the sharp angles threatening to slice her soul in half. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the pricks of colour the action brought would be enough to shut the memory of him out.
Despite her best efforts, his face continued to haunt her. She sat up with a growl, throwing the heavy quilt away from her. This was bloody ridiculous! She hadn't seen the ponce in a year. He wasn't that good of a shag. Ginny sighed, playing with the small snake that glittered in eerily in red light of her alarm clock. Memories rushed at her, breaking down her weakened defences. This was all Bill's fault; she pouted before allowing the memory to overwhelm her.
It had been the Christmas holidays of her seventh year. With the battle looming, Molly had wanted all her babies under the same roof for Christmas. The trio had been back too, needing to research the location of the final three Horcruxes, and forcing Ginny to endure Harry's attentions. And then there was him. He watched her constantly, seeing through her façade. Her skin remained in a constant state of prickling, his eyes boring in to her back. She could feel him glowering at her, despite the emotionless expression that always stained his face.
He cornered her on Christmas day, forcing her up against the wall, hands resting just below her breasts. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She stiffened immediately, her hands coming up to push against his chest, dropping the present she held as she wrenched her lips away from him.
"What do you think you're doing?" she whispered harshly, trying to push his hands off her. Draco's grip on her tightened, pushing his body up against her. He leant forward pressing a kiss to her neck. "Stop," she said weakly, her head lolling back against the wall, arching her neck to give him better access. "Harry-" she breathed, her arms encircling his neck loosely.
"Doesn't love you," he interrupted, growling into her neck. "We've been through that." He silenced her protests with his mouth, seizing her mouth with his in a bruising kiss. With a lustful moan, Ginny fisted her hand in his hair, her tongue sweeping around his mouth. Her hands drifted to his shoulders, gripping tightly as she pushed her body up, wrapping her legs around his waist. She groaned as his thumb rubbed lightly against the underside of her breasts, teasing the sensitive flesh.
Draco's hand travelled down her body, slipping the top button of her jeans through the hole, pushing the zip down. Ginny pushed her hips into his, Draco's hands sliding beneath the denim and over the material of her knickers.
The sounds of people below them caused Ginny to hurriedly drop her legs from around his waist, pushing Draco away from her.
"Hey, Ginny," Ron called up the stairs. "Lunch is on!"
Draco ran his hand through his hair as Ginny quickly redid her jeans.
"Hurry up, Ginny!"
"I'm just getting your present, Harry," she yelled downstairs in reply, her voice wobbling slightly. Draco raised his eyebrows.
She bent down to retrieve the forgotten present on the ground. As she stood Draco captured her lips in a quick, scorching kiss. He thrust a small metal object into her hands, before pushing off the wall and stalking down the hall, leaving Ginny panting alone in the corridor. Slowly, Ginny opened her hand, staring at the small silver snake.
"Gin," Ron called up the stairs again, his voice impatient and whiney. "Come on, we're all waiting for you!"
"Coming," Ginny yelled, stuffing the snake deep into her pocket.
She glanced at her clock radio, 3.47 am. Oh she was going to have fun getting up for work tomorrow or later that morning, rather.
GMGMGMGMG
At eleven o'clock the next morning, Ginny slipped into the Bronze, tying her black apron round her waist.
"Bit late there, Gin," Angie chuckled, bouncing her daughter lightly on her lap.
"Shut up," Ginny pouted, tickling little Harriet's stomach. "Think Alex will notice?"
"He might," Alex said, grabbing Ginny from behind, a high pitch squeal escaping her.
GMGMGMG
Draco sat in the darkness of the early morning, nursing his fourth large brandy, music playing loudly behind him.
Ginny scowled, fantasising about all the ways she could kill Alex for making her clean up the dried vomit backstage, and cursing whatever part of the body allowed for projectile vomiting. Scrunching up her nose, she scrubbed what appeared to be dried carrot from a table leg, the smell pierced through her senses. She pulled down on the black cloth as she stood, the material falling into the wet patch at her feet.
She sighed dejectedly, scooping up the cloth and throwing it atop the black varnish of the tabletop. Peeling gold letters caught her eye as she pushed her bucket of murky water with her feet. 'Yamaha' she read, lifting the lid to reveal piano keys.
Ginny ran her fingertips over the black and ivory keys. She pulled a rickety stool over, settling in front of the piano, her fingers hovering in a familiar position over the keys.
Draco raised his wand, changing the track, Toso's La Balla delle Notte echoing around through the silence of the Manor, encompassing Draco.
Ginny's fingers moved gracefully over the well-worn keys, playing Toso's composition with ease. She struck the wrong note but continued without pause, shaking her head at her mistake.
Draco listened for the wrong note he knew would never come, the recording was perfect. He threw back the last of the Firewhisky in the glass, memories of the first time he heard her play assaulting him.
Ginny frowned as the carefully ordered notes pulled memories from deep within her.
You will have two hours in which you will not leave this room without being accompanied by the member of the Inquisitorial Squad that I have assigned, or I shall be forced to suspend these – unusual lessons."
"Yes, Ma'am," Ginny said sweetly, forcibly preventing her face from descending into a furious scowl.
"Yes, well, he should be here shortly," Umbridge said, opening the doors to Ginny's music room with a muttered spell.
"Miss Ginevra!" her ghost of a music teacher greeted, gliding gracefully over to them. "Dolores," he said, nodding his transparent head stiffly.
"Sir Brackensouth!" Umbridge gushed. "How are you this fine evening?" Ginny rolled her eyes behind Umbridge's back. The woman would kiss the arse of a Blast Ended Skrewt
"Dead," he replied, deadpan.
"Oh!" Umbridge exclaimed, floundering, her face flushed. "I only meant, I mean I know some ghosts are a little touchy about their um… little life impairment problem."
"I, however, am not one of them." He turned quickly, his long robe passing through her torso, causing Umbridge to shudder at the sudden chill. "You are disrupting my lesson, Dolores. Kindly remove yourself from my presence."
Umbridge turned and huffed out the room, slamming the door behind her.
"How'd you get her to do that?" Ginny asked in awe. "She just- left."
"Simple," the ghost replied, a mischievous smile playing on his greyed lips. "I am not bound to this castle as many of the ghosts of Hogwarts. I am able to move on whenever I please, taking the prestige and the rather large sum of galleons my presence here brings with me. Ah, the joys of being famous." Ginny laughed, taking a seat at the grand piano in the centre of the room.
"Just how many galleons do you bring in, William?" Ginny asked curiously
"A gentleman never tells, Miss Ginevra," William answered, conspiratorially tapping the side of his nose.
"Oh come on! Please," Ginny protested.
"It is enough that I may have my pick of students," Ginny smiled, watching as her teacher floated to the middle of the piano. "Now-"
The sudden and violent opening of the door interrupted him. Draco Malfoy stormed through the door, his cloak billowing behind him. William watched with distain as Malfoy stalked across the room and placed himself atop the stage, facing them with a sneer.
"What are you waiting for, Weasley? Feel free to butcher whatever piece of music Sir Brackensouth has assigned you."
"Now that I have your permission," Ginny replied with a sneer, leaning down to withdraw her music from her bag.
"Quite alright. I'm in a generous mood this evening," Draco said pleasantly, leaning back on his elbows, one leg hanging down off the stage, the other bent at the knee on the stage.
"Master Draco," William said calmly, turning sharply to face Draco. "You will hold your tongue or I shall ensure that you have no further use for it,"
"I am a prominent member of the Inquisitorial Squad and-"
"And I am Sir William Cordwell Brackensouth, the most respected and sought after composer in the magical world. I assure you Mister Malfoy, Hogwarts would mourn my loss far more acutely than it would yours. Do not feign ignorance of that fact. It is an insult to both our intelligences. You are well aware that threats from your family cannot sway me," William thundered, silencing Draco and causing Ginny to stare at him in shock. She had never heard William raise his voice before. He was always so softly spoken. William whipped his body back around to face Ginny.
"Now, Miss Ginevra," he said sweetly, a soft smile on his face. "Let's hear how La Balla delle Notte is coming along. You've had it for two weeks now?" Ginny nodded. "Of course, with that keyboard you insist on practicing on, I am not overly confident that you will have come close to perfecting it."
"William, we've discussed this. Just because it's not a grand piano doesn't mean I can't hit the right keys on it."
"I still would like to have a word with your brother regarding the wisdom of that particular birthday present. It's derived from a Muggle contraption for Merlin's sake!"
Draco ignored the continued mutterings of Sir Brackensouth as Ginny began to play. He wanted to give her his undivided attention so when he walked her back to Gryffindor tower, he could brief her on just how badly she mangled Toso's La Balla delle Notte. With great power comes sodding responsibility, he thought petulantly.
It had taken him over a month of relentless practice last summer to come close to perfecting La Balla delle Notte. The chit had only had the piece for two weeks and hardly had enough time to practice a piece of such a degree of difficulty. And so, he listened for errors as Ginny played, her fingers moving quickly and gracefully across the ivory keys.
But they never came.
He heard a few wrong notes, yes, but even with his intimate knowledge of the piece, he struggled to pick them. Though he knew that the notes she played were incorrect, the few erroneous notes, and damn it there were only a few, seemed to fit into the piece. She just made them fit.
Draco scowled as Ginny's fingers came to a pause and Brackensouth began to gently but bluntly admonish Ginny for her mistakes. He listened absently as she began to play again, focusing solely on the bars she struggled with. Draco's lip curled with distain.
She was better than him.
"Not so fast, Ginevra!" Sir Brackensouth admonished. "Why must you insist on playing ten times faster than the composer intended?" Ginny shrugged, smiling brightly, causing Sir Brackensouth to sigh in exasperation. "Leave."
Ginny jumped up quickly from her seat, stuffing her books and the loose sheets of music into her bag.
Draco slid gracefully from the stage, dusting himself off discreetly. He gave a curt nod to Sir Brackensouth, which the ghost returned stiffly, as he followed Weasley from the room, his long strides quickly bring him even with her. Silently, he led her to Gryffindor tower. He could hear her breathing begin to quicken as she struggled to keep up with him as he took the stairs two at a time. He turned on his heel as she muttered the password under her breath, disappearing with a scowl down the shadowed corridor.
"Gin," Alex said, surprise and awe colouring his voice, causing her to stop abruptly. "That's fantastic. I didn't know you could play."
Ginny smiled shyly, "I took lessons at school."
With a cry, Draco threw his glass at the wall before turning his wand on the player. The music stopped abruptly as shards of plastic and metal embedded themselves in the wall.
GMGMGMGM
A/N: Toso is a composer of my own creation as is Brackensouth. I'm not well versed when it comes to classical music (or any music really) so I'm just inventing my own as the need arises.
Also La Balla delle Notte means 'the dance of the night' in Italian. It's my own translation and I have now discovered that a foreign language leaves your memory very quickly and efficiently when you stop taking the classes.