A/N: Little bit late, little bit short, but here it is, for your reading pleasure :)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Before I know it, I've had a fitful night's sleep and it's already approaching lunchtime. Vanessa has been acting completely normally all morning, and I'm actually quite impressed with her acting skills.

But it's starting to occur to me that on our first day, we were evenly matched at dueling, and I'll have to go out into Muggle London all by myself and face her. What if she overpowers me? What if a Muggle steals my wand and beats me up?

Not that I'm scared. I've been into Muggle London loads of times already, and I've practiced dueling since then.

So when Vanessa leaves the Ministry for her lunch, I take a deep breath, transfigure my hair to a dull, blend-in-the-crowd mousy brown colour, and trail her for a few streets. It's getting cold wearing just Muggle clothes, but the cloaks they wear are short and puffy and hideous, so I suck it up.

Soon enough, I see her enter into a small doorway of a pub called The Slug And Lettuce. I can't believe some of the things these Muggles eat, seriously. Thankfully I spot a flower shop across the road, and risking life and limb, I dodge between the Muggle Mobiles and buy a large bouquet that'll cover my face once I'm inside.

I go inside, and thankfully it is dim and crowded enough that I feel like I can blend in okay, but not so crowded that I end up seated on the opposite side of the restaurant. The waitress lets me choose where I sit, and I stride confidently over to where Vanessa is seated, bouquet resting on my shoulder casually, and sit with my back to her, a few tables over.

The waitress hurries off to fetch my Merlot, and a vase for my flowers. I don't turn to check how close I've gotten, or whether Vanessa saw me, I just sit and hope that I'll be able to hear her alright when Mulligan arrives.

This pub isn't that bad, I realise as I start to look around. Solid wooden tables and chairs, none of that weird Muggle decor where they make everything plastic and metal. Crinkled leather sofas against the wall for people in larger groups. A black box with moving people in it, like a bigger version of a photo frame, is hung up on the wall and depicts a sporting event. Everything shows signs of wear but it still functional, which reminds me of The Three Broomsticks, but a bit darker colour scheme.

I'm almost done with my first drink when I notice with a start that Mulligan has just clomped his way past me, and I remember why I'm here. Not for the ambiance.

"You better have brought Muggle money." Snaps Mulligan gruffly.

But before I can hear Vanessa's reply, the waitress is back. "More wine?"

I don't stop her as she refills my glass, then she puts it on the table and pulls out a notebook. "Have you decided what you want?"

What I want for you is to go away, I think to myself. But I point at a random thing on the menu, so she scribbles it down, picks the wine back up and once again scurries off.

Another waitress is taking their drink order by the time mine leaves, so I wait for them to hum and haw over what they want.

Once all those important decisions have been made, and their waitress also leaves, Mulligan gets straight back to business. "So what have you got for me?"

"Shacklebolt is making Potter the Head Auror." Vanessa's voice comes, suddenly and smugly. The creaking of his chair and coughing noises indicate that Mulligan just about had a heart attack. I can tell because I almost did, too, and I hit my chest a few times so I don't choke on my mouthful of wine.

"But the boy's only, what, eighteen?" Mulligan splutters.

"Only just. He's good looking, and the public loves him, but I was shocked they'd even suggest it! I can't believe-"

"More wine?" I jump out of my skin as my waitress appears out of nowhere, once again refilling my empty drink. I wonder if it is normal practice for Muggles to drink this much at lunchtime.

"Your food is on it's way, we're a bit backed up in the kitchen right now." The waitress says, sounding apologetic but beaming.

"You know what, cancel it." I say. I throw my fresh wine back in one swallow to gather my strength, then I fish in my pockets for the Muggle money Potter lent me for this mission. I can't possibly count it so I just give her all of it and start to stumble out.

As I pull the main door open, I barge into something sharp and skinny. Skeeter.

"You." I scowl, smoothing my Muggle clothes down. She is as ostentatiously dressed and made-up as ever, as if she doesn't even care that she stands out.

"What a unique cologne." Skeeter says, referring to my breath. "I wonder what you'd be up to in a Muggle establishment… something tells me the wine was just a bonus?"

My brain feels somewhat sluggish, and I'm not sure I understand what she's hinting at. "Wuh?" I manage.

Skeeter ever so gently tugs me from the entrance, where people are trying to come and go, and does that thing where she acts nice, but she's actually poised to strike, like a Python. "I don't suppose I'll find my dear friend Mulligan in there with you, would I?" She says, treacle-sweet.

"No." I lie, automatically.

"Because you'd never betray your old friend Rita, would you?" She continues, her fingernails digging deeper and deeper. "After all we've been through together. The War, the rumours…"

I wrench myself free, disgust filling me at her even mentioning the War. "Get lost, Skeeter. I have to get back to work."

Then I storm off, trying not to wobble. I'm sure Skeeter will go into The Slug and Lettuce and see Vanessa and Mulligan and have her victory, even if it's not the exact scoop she wanted. But if I can get back to the Ministry and tell someone in time, then maybe…

But, maybe what? Potter must already know he's going to make Head Auror. He probably planned it all along. But he's too young, and he wasn't even brought up with our ways. How can he run a whole Department when he's only been in our world for what, seven years? And he's only been working at the Ministry for a few months.

But Potter has always seemed to seek power - he moped around for weeks when he wasn't made a Prefect. He led Dumbledore's Army. He slotted himself right into the highest ranks of the Auror program, despite zero N.E. and no training. He thinks he deserves it all on a plate, just because he continues to exist, by virtue of simply not dying.

Well, I didn't die either, so what is stopping me being the Head Auror? Exactly. Nothing.

I have a horrible sense of having no idea what is right and wrong any more, since Potter is scheming for power, Auror trainees are working for the enemy, and I never wanted to fit into this ridiculous paradigm anyway. And maybe I drank a little bit too much.

I burst into the Auror Department not long after, and ignore the commands of the Aurors and the puzzled looks of my fellow trainees. I stomp over to Potter's office, and don't even knock before I go in. I enter and point an accusing finger at him, breathing deeply from all the hurrying.

"Potter, you fool." I say, not entirely sure it didn't come out as 'Fotter, you pool'.

"Malfoy, what are you doing back so early? Have you been drinking?" Potter stands up, looking worried. He walks over to me and closes the door behind me. "What did you find out?"

"Only two." I tell him, and grip his arms so he stops spinning in figure 8's. "Vanessa was right about you. You might have the looks but you've got no clue, Potter. Didn't anyone tell you it'd be a bad idea?"

Potter peers at me confused for a second, but then his face registers understanding, and he has the grace to at least look sheepish. "Well yes, Ron and Hermione did. Loads of times."

Huh, I didn't expect him to admit it this easily. But I suppose the secret's going to be out soon anyway.

"But I've done what people expect for years, I reckon I should be going after what I want for a change, you know?" He continues, determination in his voice, looking into my face.

"Right, like it's going to surprise anyone." I scoff sarcastically, letting go of his arms. "Everyone pretty much expects it to happen."

"Really?" Potter says, with a tone in his voice that I can't recognise.

"Of course." I say. "Not this fast, obviously. But eventually, it was bound to happen. Shacklebolt obviously knew it, I knew it-"

And before I've finished my thought, Potter has leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.

My head spins, my heart beat thuds loudly, and my lips tingle. Right after my eyes drift closed of their own accord, I come to my senses and pull away.

"Wha- why - I mean... What the fuck was that, Potter?" I say, half-way between a stammer and a coherent sentence. Stupid wine.

"What do you think it was?" Potter says with a bit of a grin, and licks his top lip. "You taste good, you know."

My stomach flips in embarrassment. "Okay, somewhere we've gone off track here, clearly." I say, pushing Potter back in a panic as he goes in for another round.

"How did we get from you being made Head Auror to…" I can't even say it. "This?"

"Head Auror? What are you on about?" Potter says, taking a small step back.

"What did you think I was on about?!" I exclaim hysterically.

Now it's Potter's turn to stammer. "You! Us! You were clearly on about us! You said I was good looking! You said it was bound to happen!"

I'm starting to wonder if Potter doesn't also have a few drinks at lunchtime.

"No, you becoming Head Auror was bound to happen, you idiot. I told you - Vanessa spilled the beans to Mulligan, it's likely going to be front page news by the morning." I say, crossing my arms defensively, but trying to sound calm.

"You didn't say that at all." Potter says accusingly, stepping back a bit more, to put some distance between us. "Not one word of it."

"I think I remember what I said." I snap, resolutely. But now I'm not sure.

"And I think you're a bastard, Malfoy. Have I told you that you're the absolute worst spy I've ever seen?"

This hits a nerve. "Excuse me, who is practically solving this case for you? And I only got caught that one time!"

Except, then I remember that I was also caught this time. Technically. By Skeeter again. But Potter doesn't need to know that.

"Getting drunk and giving incoherent reports hardly counts as solving anything, Malfoy." Potter snaps back at me. "What exactly do you think you've solved?"

"Well, I've proved that Vanessa is the one leaking Ministry information to The Prophet." I say, ticking off one finger. "And secondly, I've proved that you're still a power-hungry show-off who gets special treatment. And a bloody pervert. If you take the Head Auror position, I'm resigning."

Potter puts his hand through his hair, face flushing to match mine. "Okay, I don't know how it's going 'round that I'm going to be the Head Auror, because I'm not. It'd be idiotic - what do I know about running a Ministry department, for crying out loud?"

"Well that's what'll be in the papers tomorrow. I heard Vanessa clearly say it. Mulligan wasn't happy about it, either, if it helps." I say, shrugging. "Maybe you've been promoted and you just don't know it yet."

"We'll see about that." Potter snaps, and grips me by the arm. "We're going to see Shacklebolt."