CHAPTER 1
The musk of old parchment was giving him a splitting headache, again.
Malfoy groaned rubbing his temples with his dry ink-stained fingers. He wasn't built for this life, wasn't meant to be a quill pusher. He'd been chained to the splintered dark oak desk for 4 years with no end in sight.
That's 4 years of scratching ink, writing, filling and submitting other Auror's work.
Their glory files, their pompous, egotistical, over exaggerated, borderline fictional summaries of their assignments, forever piling up on his 'in-tray'.
It was a never-ending battle of completing one report and then writing another.
He'd worked so hard to be here, to have this job, to be a member of an evolving society but he was sold a dream, a false idea of catching war criminals, fighting duels, and chasing adventure.
Even after a decade since the war, there were still dark forces who had fled and slithered underground in the hopes to evade capture and consequence. That's ultimately why Malfoy joined up in the first place. To have the opportunity to be a part of the claw that dragged them out of the rock they'd crawled under and make them pay for the pain he'd suffered, the torture he'd endured in his youth and the agony subjected to his parents, especially his mother.
His late mother to be precise.
It however was all in vain, but then again, so was he.
Malfoy was, as he would describe himself at his peak, he'd grown out of his lanky boyish figure and now at 27 years old, he wore a broader frame, shoulders hard enough to break down doors in a flash, a jaw to cut glass with and his hands, well they were enough to break bricks given the opportunity - to which there were none, hence the dried ink from all the quills he snapped In frustration.
He had built himself for the job; to be a fighter but all he fought these days was the will to live whenever a cocky 20 something year old sauntered past his desk and slammed another scroll of their daring duels to add to their portfolio of bollocks.
This was in his opinion a contributing factor as to why his hair now whiter than ever, to which his thick, dark, permanently furrowed brows obviously didn't get the memo.
His other dark features were inherited from the noble Black family line, an ode to his mother who he saw staring back at him if he stared too long in the mirror.
His grey eyes were his own though, a shade which never really correlated with his parents.
If eyes were the windows to the soul, his reminded him of kicked up snow, tarnished by grit and gravel. He tried not to dwell on what that might say about the substance of his personality. Afterall, no one cared for it, not even himself.
He'd tried so hard to 'rebrand' himself after that whole horrid dark lord business, he broke away from the expectations others had projected onto him, to fall down the plughole of bad deeds and follow in his father's footsteps, who was, now by the way rotting away in Azkaban.
Malfoy didn't dwell on that too much, after his mother had passed away and his father captured by the Auror Office, Malfoy sought redemption for his misdeeds and was granted a chance to make anew.
He did just that.
Malfoy manor and everything in it was either demolished or sold. His fortune was taken by the ministry and donated to the recovery and rebuilding of the new world that was still even now a decade later requiring improvements.
A fresh start was granted to him, the dark mark exchanged for the Auror insignia which he wore on his shirt jacket, now slung over his office chair more useful for padding than anything else.
Malfoy took his hands away from his aching skull and reached for the espresso shot teetering dangerously on the edge of his desk. He expelled a loud yawn whilst locking eyes with his Boss, a Miss Parvati Patil who was sat across the dimly lit room staring back at him.
He took a sip of the hot bitter liquid without breaking eye contact.
"Bored Malfoy?" Patil enquired with a tone of annoyance.
"Always" He declared raising his cup to her, then taking another sip.
"It's a wonder we pay you at all with all the time you waste." She continued, her eyes darting towards the pile of parchment still yet to be sorted.
"Ah Parvati," He chuckled, reaching for the parchment in question "Your complaints are duly noted. Write them down and put them on my desk and well, if I have time, I'll fashion them in a report for you to send to Potter. Maybe he'll even put you forward for a commendation."
Patil narrowed her eyes at him. She took a deep calming breath and Malfoy smirked reading the mental battle she was having with herself, the decision whether to hex him or not. "Just get on with it.' She snapped.
"Such fearsome words, from my fearsome leader." He mocked, putting his espresso down and leaning back in his chair, teasing a creak out of the wooden frame.
Malfoy yawned again stretching his hands behind his head, the pressure of this movement threatened to tear the shoulder seams of his black satin shirt. He looked over at her, her expression still hard. "Oh, don't take it so personally Boss, I was like this to the guy before you and I'll be like it to whoever takes your place after your inevitable promotion."
Patil sighed placing both her palms flat on her own desk, which was distinctly different in every way. Her desk was a polished mahogany wood, embellished with all manner of charmed objects to suit her comfort.
"Y'know Malfoy, if you got your head down, got your work done without all these sarcy remarks and frankly, quite disrespectful comments, you'll be at this desk soon enough," She sighed again "but you're too hell bent on making a point to the office than actually progressing within it."
Malfoy cocked his head to onside and slowly lowered his arms to his own desk. He pushed up against this palms and stood calmly. Despite the slow movement, his face betrayed to Patil that his sense of humour over his little 'telling off' had disappeared.
He walked round his desk, with no immediate pace and walked towards her.
"Progression, as you know, is not something that I'm entitled to." His tall broad frame was unravelled as he stalked further toward the superior desk. "I've been a glorified PA for every Tom, Dick and Harry that's stepped in this office since day one. Emphasis on the Harry" He snapped bitterly.
"I'm a fully qualified Auror, passed top in my intake on all examinations. I'm not here because of my failings in this job role. I'm here because of who I was born to, and what I was tortured into becoming. No matter how many tests, report writing, or yes sir, no sir three bags full sir bollocks I concede to, I will be here, in this shitty little office working under carbon copies of people like you until I retire."
Malfoy had reached Parvati's desk, and he stood in front of her a smirk shadowing across his face as he placed his hands in his trousers pockets. He stared at her directly, not even blinking.
He could see that she was trying to scramble for a response, a response that wouldn't admit that he was right, which of course he was.
Everyone knew he was overqualified for his role; no one had even questioned it because they already knew the answer. He was a Malfoy, and that was enough a reason to keep him doing the donkey work of every new Auror that walked through those doors.
It was rationalised prejudice, a discrimination he would never break from, not until he was given a chance to prove he wasn't his father.
He was his own man.
Patil opened her mouth to speak but was instantly cut short when Malfoy narrowed his grey thunderous eyes on a piece of parchment, upside-down to his view with a thumbnail. A black and white photograph of a girl, now woman he once knew, a face from a lifetime ago.
Her image delicacy brushed some wild curls from her eyeline as she settled for the camera to flash, a subtly smile against her lips.
His curious smirk pulled into a wide grin as he noticed the red stamped words underneath.
'CONFIDENTIAL – URGENT'
His fingers darted for it before Parvati could even respond. "Granger." He muttered still smiling. Malfoy snapped his eyes to Patil, waving the parchment as a taunt in front of her face. "Now Boss, what's all this about?"