Orgy in the Dungeons

"We're a sorry trio, huh?" Harry Potter asked. "Spending a sunny Sunday afternoon down here in the dungeons."

"Stop moping, mate," Draco complained. "It's not our fault you decided it wouldn't be politically correct to go to Lois' birthday party. Though it really escapes me why our little Tori is sticking around when she's not being paid for it."

Astoria didn't have a good answer to that question, at least none that she felt comfortable with. So she stretched her arms out in front of her, pretending to admire her perfectly pale complexion. "You just said it, Harry. A sunny Sunday afternoon. Sunlight isn't good for my skin."

"And such pretty skin, too," Draco drawled. "So smooth and white."

"Tsk, tsk, Draco. Don't molest our intern, you know we need her to do our dirty work," Harry teased. "And really, can ghosts even …" He coughed, realising belatedly that certain jokes should not be shared in front of a lady.

Draco, of course, had no such compunctions. He was a Malfoy, after all. "A ghost can –" He leered at Astoria's elegantly suggestive cleavage. An icy shiver raced through her. Her nipples prickled. She felt heat rise to her cheeks in a fierce blush.

"– dream," Draco finished dryly.

The fire flared up in the green colour of a Floo call just in time to prevent an extremely awkward silence. George Weasley poked his head through. "Wow, Draco, Harry, and Tori. An orgy in the dungeons, I see. That's the spirit, that's the spirit. Hate to break things up for you, my dears, but we need Harry over here now. Impromptu Order meeting. Harry, Minerva says to go via St Mungo's and get Snape, kicking and screaming if necessary. Just stun him and petrify him from behind, I say, and save your apologies for later."

oooOooo

Watching the Floo flames dim and diminish behind Harry, Astoria dared to venture a question: "An Order meeting? But … I thought the Order of the Phoenix was disbanded after the – after –"

"After Voldemort's tragic demise?" Draco sneered. "That is what the Prophet and the Quibbler reported, yes."

Which was indeed the source of her information.

"And the Minister for Magic? Does she … know? And –"

"Since Harry hasn't Obliviated you before he Floo'ed, what kind of secret do you think the continued existence of the Order is, Tori? And I do believe you sorted some memos concerning the Minister's schedule this week, didn't you? 'Auror guard of four, for the Minister and family, on Sunday afternoon, in Ottery St Catchpole; reason: a private party'," Draco quoted.

"Oh." Once more Astoria wondered why she had opted to come in on this Sunday afternoon. It certainly wasn't for Draco's sunny temperament.

"Tori," Draco went on, this time unexpectedly gentle. "You had no reason to realise this yet, but you've been in put into a very precarious position. This archive is a place of many secrets. Some simple, some sordid; many dangerous, and more than a few …" He paused. When he continued, his whisper raised the tiny golden hairs on her arms. "… lethal."

"I –" Astoria swallowed hard. She had begun to suspect that there was more to the Archive than met the eye. And to wonder why Theodore Nott had pushed her into this job. At first glance, it was the perfect job for her, given her circumstances. But … "I've been wondering why I got this job. At first I thought it was an act of pity. Slytherins do take care of their own. Even the black sheep in their family."

"It does seem rather like a dead-end for any career to be marooned down here. And Mr Potter has done his best to tarnish the sparkle and glitter of his heroic personage," Draco smirked. "And that when he's not even trying," he muttered. Then, flicking off some invisible lint from his translucent sleeve, he favoured Astoria with a slight smile. "So there are some Slytherin instincts in this faithful Hufflepuff after all! Well done, Tori. And what is your conclusion, my sweet? Why are you here?"

She stared at him, in his shimmering silver elegance that only served to emphasise the aloofness she'd already found annoying while he was alive and merely five years old. How she resented that everything came down to a question of Houses in the end. Her very personal albatross, and her family's saving grace. "Certainly not because of those Slytherin instincts." Astoria sniffed. Then she added, her tone resigned, "So I assume it must be my happy Hufflepuff nature."

Draco steepled his fingers – his lecture pose. His fingers formed semi-translucent layers, a strange effect. "Let's just say that my very good friend Theodore Nott does nothing without a reason. A very good reason. And most of the time, two or three of them." He affected an inhalation, his silhouette swelling and shrinking minutely. "I … shall tell you a secret. A minor one, and you may make of it what you will. You may … regard it as it a test of sorts."

Astoria had never liked tests. Her nerves had cost her precious points at the OWL and NEWT examinations. She swallowed, but her throat remained tight and a sour taste lingered in her mouth. "All right."

"Fact one: Dear Theo is determined to be the best assistant a Minister for Magic ever had. Fact two: Harry and I were not informed about your delightful presence beforehand. Fact three: In two weeks you will be invited to the victory banquet after Fudge has been elected president of the European Magical Union." Draco paused, allowing the information to sink in. "Consider your options carefully, Astoria. The archive appeals to you because it seems so far away from the upstairs world, its pain and its past. But that is just an illusion. Politics and power play know no safe spaces."

"Why are you telling me all that, Draco?" Astoria asked.

The ghost shrugged. "Maybe I'm bored."

oooOooo

A/N: I hope you like this newest installment! Thank you for taking the time to read, and how about leaving a comment, dearest lurkers? I know you're out there. What made you smile, what made you frown, what's the most memorable line?