"Mr. Malfoy, there is an Auror here to see you." He looked up from the report he had been perusing and frowned. It had been inevitable, and he would just bet he knew who the Auror would be, too. After the almost scene at the Emira Pettiwig's he knew Potter must be spoiling for payback, and now that the press wasn't around Shackelbolt would give him the nod to do as he wished. That was fine, he'd been completely aboveboard in all his business dealings, they had absolutely nothing on him and they both knew damned well this was nothing but a harassment call.
"I suppose kicking an Auror out on his arse wouldn't garner me any favor with the Ministry," he sighed, "so you might as well show him in, Gallenfeld. But make sure I have another appointment scheduled within fifteen minutes in case he should, decide to run long."
"Of course, sir," the man nodded. Having been the personal secretary of Lucius Malfoy before his son, he could vouch that Draco was the far more reasonable employer, and did not have a tendency to hex his staff when they disappointed him as his father had done.
He nodded at the young Auror, giving him his best disdainful glare, and turning his nose up at the strong aroma of Firewhiskey that followed him.
"Weasley." Draco wrinkled his nose at the reek of alcohol. "Gods, you smell like you climbed into a bottle last Tuesday and just emerged. Actually, you look about like it, too. Obviously the Ministry has significantly lowered their standards over the past ten years. I must say if you and Potter were accepted, I can't be too surprised." He had to admit that twitting the Weasel now was just as much fun as it had been in school so long ago. He watched the flush of red creep up his nemesis neck, and decided to prod just a bit more. "And speaking of Potter, where is your boyfriend? I can't imagine you'd walk straight into my den without him. Surely you fear I'll hex you into the next life." To his surprise the Weasel visibly fought down his irritation and rubbed a hand over his face.
"I don't suppose you could cease being a prat long enough to have a civil conversation just this once," he said tiredly. Surprised, Draco raised an eyebrow, but motioned him to continue.
"Say what you have to and pray you aren't wasting my time, I have a lot of work to do today. Still, I would like to know where Potter is, I know you lot always travel in pairs; it would be most unfortunate if I found him snooping in places he need not be."
"Harry doesn't know I'm here, this isn't Ministry business. Trust me, if he thought for a moment I was here talking to you he'd probably arrest me himself."
"Then why are you here? I'm sure it's not from any sort of sense of nostalgia, especially if Potter would really have the reaction you seem to think he would."
"Oh, he would, trust me," Ron sighed. "Look, I'm taking a risk being here at all, Malfoy but the fact is, I just don't give a good gods damn anymore. It's all gone cock up, the whole bloody place, and, never mind, look, suffice it to say I'm here to give you a heads up, alright?"
"You're giving me a warning? Pray tell, do go on."
"Harry plans to use Hermoine to get to you." Draco stiffened and was suddenly focused.
"Go on." Ron nodded.
"Thought that might get your attention. Harry isn't the same bloke he used to be. After the war he got more and more obsessed with rooting out Death Eaters, criminals, it was like he was going to personally make sure no one dared commit a crime ever again. But it started to go overboard. They legalized using the Cruciatus against suspects, then before we realized it we were bloody torturing people for information. I watched as Harry performed the Cruciatus on a seven year old girl to make her parents give up information. I should've done something, hell, I tried, but he pulled his wand on me, his best mate. His eyes have started to turn red, too."
"I know. I'm sure you heard of the incident at the war orphans benefit." At the Weasels blank stare he rolled his eyes.
"Honestly Weasley, do you even read the papers? Potter accosted and insulted Hermoine cruelly, then came bloody close to starting a duel right there on the ballroom floor."
"Bloody hell. No one's even mentioned it at the office, and I know Kingsley said Harry was on sabbatical for a few days. Nobody questioned it, after all, it was Harry, and to be perfectly honest he's started making people nervous. It's a relief to have him out for a while." Draco had to admit to being shocked by Weasley's tale. He'd never liked Potter, of course, probably because of his father at first, but later because he just found the holier-than-thou trio annoying as hell, but he'd never ever thought that he'd see the day when Potter would turn dark. Torturing innocents for information, pulling his wand on his best friend, that signaled a descent into a kind of madness Draco had seen way too much of.
"And now you're saying he wants to use her to get to me?" Ron nodded.
"He's convinced you've some plot in the works. He doesn't know what it is, but he's spent a few months now gathering every bit of information he can on you, tracing galleons because he says that's the surest way of discovering what someone like you is up to."
"And he hasn't found anything because there's nothing to find, but he won't believe it."
"About that, yeah. And for the record, I'm fairly certain you are up to something as well, you are a Malfoy after all, but the fact is I don't give a damn what it is. All I ask is that you don't get Hermoine involved, Malfoy, she's been hurt enough, and a lot of that is our fault. We should have stuck by her instead of letting Kingsley and his boys talk us into cutting her off."
"Of course you bloody damned well should have!" Ron jerked at the furious agreement, his eyes meeting the hard steel of his enemies. Then his eyes narrowed, and he really looked at Draco for a full minute before nodding.
"You know, regardless of what we have or haven't done, being an Auror teaches you things about people, gives you some rather interesting skills."
"Your point?" Ron took a half step back, and gave him a considering look, and for the first time Draco noticed that Weasley really had aged, and there was a wealth of weariness in his eyes. He felt an involuntary frisson of understanding. It was highly distasteful.
"I think you really love her." Of everything he could have said that was the one that caught Draco completely off guard and he had to turn his head to keep Weasley from seeing whatever was in his eyes. "Don't mate, it's been a bloody long time, none of us are the same people we were back then. I mean, of course I'm sure you're still an arrogant git," Draco surprised him with a reluctant chuckle, and nod.
"And you're still a bloody holier than thou Weasel. Can you still ride a broom, Weasley, or has the drink pickled you too badly?" Ron flushed.
"I deserved that, I suppose. I've known for quite a while that I was drinking too much, but it was the only thing that made going in there day after day bearable. It helped me avoid going on assignment with Harry, too. I suppose you think that's the cowards way out."
"I know you're no match for him with a wand." Ron snorted at the understatement.
"Is there anyone left alive who is? Hell, that's part of the reason I haven't gone to Kingsley. Even if he wanted to control Harry I don't think he could. And to be honest I don't think he wants to; they feed off each others paranoia."
"Why didn't you leave?"
"And go where? There aren't a lot of legal private jobs for ex-Aurors, the only things I know how to do fairly well are catching criminals and playing Quidditch. Besides, if I left for a lesser position there would be suspicion and probably repercussions. Ginny has children, Harry's children."
"I see." And sadly he thought he did see, all too well. Draco debated for long moments, then sighed. "Regardless of the past, I'm grateful that you had the guts to come to me. I'll put watchers on her; Potter won't have an excuse to come near her."
"Things have changed around here, Malfoy. Aurors don't need a real reason to take someone in for questioning now; suspicion is enough. If Hermoine knows what you're up to he'll get it out of her. He's dangerous, and I, dammit, I don't trust him not to do something beyond forgiving anymore. He knows whatever he does Kingsley will sweep it under the rug."
"This is not what I needed." Ron heard the harried mutter and frowned.
"Don't underestimate him, seriously. He's become a lot more accomplished and well, you haven't held a wand in a decade."
"I can take care of myself, though your concern is, surprising. Thank you," his mouth twisted around the words, as though tasting something sour. "For being concerned about Hermoine, even if it is a sadly late attempt." He seemed to consider something for a long moment, then dropped his shoulders in resignation. "Look, if you're serious about wanting out, and you can still sit a broom without being half pickled in whiskey I know that the Harriers are looking for a backup Keeper." He took a card from his desk and handed it over. "This will get you a tryout, nothing more. If you're shite, that's too bad. If you're still as good as you were in school, well, you might just have a shot."
"And why would a semi-professional Quidditch team give me a tryout on your say-so?" Ron asked, taking the card nonetheless.
"It's reasurring to know that you are still at least somewhat as clueless as you used to be, Weasley, otherwise the world might have changed too much for me to stand. Malfoy Industries owns the team, you dolt. Now get out before I have to acknowledge that you aren't a total prat. That might possibly make me vomit." Ron tucked the card into his jacket pocket and nodded.
"Ask Hermoine if she'd be willing to talk to me, will you? I'd like the chance to apologize." He sighed roughly and shook his head. "And for the record, I think I've grown beyond schoolyard rivalry, and maybe you have too. Is it enough? Can we finally put this bloody misery to rest?" Not trusting himself not to cock it up if he tried to speak, Draco simply offered his hand. The two men shook hands, and there was a crack, not unlike the sound of apparation, and red and green light swirled around their hands and dissipated.
"Bloody hell." Ron looked at his hand and chuckled. "My dad is about certain to be pissed about this."
"About what?" Draco was rubbing his hand on his suit coat, trying to dispel the weird crawling sensation.
"I think we just ended a seven hundred year blood feud, mate." Draco, looked up, nonplussed.
"We, what, that's all it took? Just agreeing not to hate each other anymore? Honestly, if that was all why did it take bloody seven hundred years?" Ron chuckled.
"You know, mate, that statement convinces me more than anything else that you might not be an utter bastard anymore. I'll see you around then, yeah?"
Draco felt a most unwelcome smile tug at the corners of his mouth.
"Not if I see you first, Weasel." Ron grinned in return.
"Fine then, you bloody Ferret, so be it." He walked out of the office chuckling, and Draco dropped back into his seat, a contemplative expression on his face.