Bewitched Times
Chapter 4
"The Assignment"
****I changed and re-uploaded the end of this chapter for plot reasons****
AN: Um…hello…? Is anyone still out there? Does anyone remember this little story of mine? It's been so long…I can hardly believe it's taken me two years to pick this thing back up and get it going again. I won't bore you with excuses, but I will say that having read Deathly Hallows, I'm still committed to a D/G ship in this story. I altered a tiny bit of the plotline to fall in line with the info we've heard from JK about their future careers, but all in all, it's still my background.
I hope you all haven't forgotten me and that you'll enjoy this new chapter. It's a bit heavy but very emotionally gratifying, as I've filled in more info about what happened during the war that will explain everyone's stance 10 years later.
Without further ado, enjoy!
~Adrial
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Ginny could not remember the last time she'd gone flying. Her old nimbus felt surprisingly awkward beneath her less nimble frame, but eventually her leg muscles groaned to life and adrenaline rushed through them, urging her forward.
The cool evening air combed through her hair as she glided over a vast carpet of treetops. Everything was stained gold in the sunset and she swooped `round and `round, dipping into the brush and back up again, testing her turns and basking in the familiar feeling of weightlessness.
She had needed more than a good bottle of wine and comfort food to give her the escape she yearned for after the afternoon's eventful confrontation. She knew she'd created a new enemy in Draco Malfoy, and now that he had made his grand return to high society, she would surely cross his path again.
Quickly, she leaned forward on her broom and steered herself higher, hoping she could leave the remnants of their heated argument behind. The force of her speed strained her back and neck but she did not let up until her body broke through the pink and orange clouds.
Sighing with relief, she conjured a cloak to keep out the looming chill of night and skimmed over the horizon.
Try as she might to not think about his cold grey gaze, she found herself remembering his retreat all over again. She'd been left standing there in the massive study in a daze, her wand still clutched tightly in her grip and her heart beating fiercely.
Adrian guided her silently back to her room, but she'd shrugged off his apologies with indifference, aching to be alone.
She imagined that Morgan would have left that afternoon for the city, leaving her behind. It was just as well. As much as she had wanted to flee from anywhere within Malfoy's reach that day, she felt so drained that she took long nap to make up for her sleepless night and afterward had taken to the skies rather than call up her driver.
She despised Draco at that moment, for his mere presence brought back dark memories of the war that she would rather not have to relive. The night she'd seen him kill his father, she had seen hundreds of her school mates and members of her own family suffer similar fates. Why should the demise of a Death Eater bother her so?
For months after Harry put an end to it all, the media plastered images of the lost across the front page and ruthlessly followed the trials of each death eater convicted by the Wizengamot until they became property of Azkaban at last.
Unsurprisingly, the public grew weary of the war coverage and wished only to move forward. The wounds would never fully heal, but new witches and wizards were being born each day and everyone simply wanted a fresh start. The Prophet later reported on the mass exodus of Wizarding families to the countryside or different countries all together, where they hoped to find reprieve from the damages of war.
Ginny felt a similar feeling at the moment, drifting along in the night - the fear that after years of effort, her past was finally catching up to her.
She, like everyone else, had wanted to forget. And Colin's brilliant publication had come around at the perfect time, attracting readers with a fresh design and outlook on the Post-Dark Lord era.
Her family had never left their home, but she had moved to the city with Luna upon her graduation from Hogwarts, itching to find out what she could make of herself. Her dear friend, however, was never one hundred percent contented by the busy streets and fast-paced life that Ginny thrived upon. Luna left after a year on an expedition to discover magical anomalies of nature under her father's guidance.
Ginny threw herself into her new life, ignoring her mother's pleas to attend University, and tried her hand at professional Quidditch. Harry was her biggest supporter on that front, and she made it quite far as a seeker for the Hollyhead Harpies. But after a few years, she was ashamed to admit that she still did not feel quite fulfilled.
When the team suffered a devastating loss in the finals before the World Cup, she finally hung up her broomstick and made a controversial leap into the publishing world.
In the beginning, she was content to have been offered any job at all. But when Colin offered her a position on staff during one drunken evening on her twenty-first birthday, she laughed it off. He, ever the persistent one, insisted on inviting her down to his sprawling offices, and five years later, she hadn't turned back yet.
Bewitched Times had given her a new focus in life. Nothing filled her with more pride than opening up to people's lives and bringing their stories to light. When she and Hermione, who had risen quite quickly in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, partnered together to crack down on the mistreatment of magical creatures, she felt a new appreciation for the power of media.
This weekend was meant to be a small moment of triumph for her and her friend, and yet here she was, shivering up above the clouds, hiding from an old school bully.
She didn't have Hermione's ability to sort problems out with cool logic. Ginny usually contented herself by chewing her nails down to the quick or lashing out with her temper at whomever was causing her disdain. When all else failed, she ran away until the problems righted themselves or simply disappeared.
She felt a pang of longing to speak to her friend. Solitude was only good for momentary satisfaction-she had cleared her mind and now she wanted someone to talk it over with. She was ready to go home. Gathering her robes close to her body, she headed toward land.
The stables next to Malfoy's expansive estate were alive with the sounds of horses neighing over the sides of their stall doors. She dismounted her broom in front of them and tossed it over her shoulder, deciding to walk the rest of the way.
She trudged through the slick grass, smiling to herself at the sight of the glowing windows of the elves' quarters. Shadows moved energetically through the golden embers of firelight and she could hear faint sounds of lively chatter.
The outline of the mansion was clear now, and she lit her wand so she could maneuver her way to the side door where the kitchens were located. She was starving and wanted to eat before she packed her things and made what she hoped would be a quick escape.
Her broom popped back into travel size and she stowed in her pocket. She was a few hundred meters away from the barn when behind, she heard the sudden cry of a mare pierce the night. She whipped around, hand instinctively trained on her wand, and squinted her eyes to see into the darkness.
Bathed in the moon's muted glow, she made out a dark figure as it threw itself over the horse's back. She knew it was him before she saw his silver hair or heard his commanding voice force the mare into a gallop in the opposite direction.
She stood frozen for a moment, with no doubt that he had been there all along. Rather than running this time, she knew she would face him. Perhaps not tonight, when the vestiges of their argument were still raw, but soon enough it would have to happen.
Once his silhouette disappeared, she turned on her heel and sighed, closing the distance between herself and the kitchens with a few long strides. Turning the handle, she welcomed the warm smell of supper and allowed herself to be swallowed by the golden light of the cherry fireplace.
The door clicked shut behind her, keeping the night and her demons at bay for the time being.
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Two weeks later.
"Damn it, Hermione - why do you insist on torturing me?" Ginny groaned. She was curled up on a couch in her office in fetal position, shielding her face with a cushion.
Hermione ignored her and resumed pacing back in forth. In her hands was the latest issue of the Bewitched Times, already wrinkled and limp from use.
She poured her eyes over the pages enthusiastically and read aloud.
"…although the Wizarding world has made its fair share of mistakes in the mistreatment of these diligent creatures and, now, entrepreneurs, strides for improved Wizard-elf relations came to a glowing peak this month with the grand opening of Le Vin de Ciel winery…"
"Hermione-shut it!"
Ginny made a futile lunge for the grinning witch but failed to knock the book out of her hands.
"Ooooh…this is my favorite part!" She skirted around Ginny's desk and out of reach while she continued to read.
"…thanks in part to the tireless passion with which Magical Law Enforcement's Hermione Granger (she paused to beam winsomely at her red-faced friend) has dedicated to her mission of bridging the gap between Wizards and magical creatures, we are a large step further in bolstering the foundation of a Post-Dark Lord era that began a decade ago-where peace reigns above all and man and elf can, at the end of day, sit down together over a simple glass of wine and-"
She was cut off abruptly as Ginny successfully ripped the pages from her, with a squeal of victory.
Hermione barely noticed. There were tears pooling in her honey colored eyes and she stared at Ginny with such a look of admiration that the ginger-haired witch felt her face burn with embarrassment.
"Oh, Gin…that was beautiful." She enveloped her in a tight hug and did not let go until Ginny finally hugged her back.
"C'mon, Hermione, it's not bloody Shakespeare." She patted her friend's back and waited until she finally unraveled her vice-like grip.
"Say what you like-this piece is going up on my fridge the moment I get home." Hermione gave her a watery smile.
Ginny walked away and sat herself behind her desk, straightening her clothes and hair with fidgety hands. Her eyes betrayed her pride at having pleased Hermione, but she kept her face still. She never liked having her articles read to her-it made her feel vulnerable, as it suddenly reminded her that she had lain out her feelings for millions to read and judge.
Hermione wiped her eyes and plopped down on the couch were Ginny had earlier sought refuge.
"Well anyway, thank you for letting me read it before the issue comes out next month. I can't wait to see how everyone reacts." In the process of speaking, she whipped out her quill and set it quickly to writing a memo.
"What's that for?" Ginny asked as she glanced over her schedule for the day.
Hermione sealed the letter and sent it fluttering off to find its recipient.
"Note to my boss that I'm going to be an hour late to our meeting," she grabbed her purse and Ginny's and opened the office door.
"I've decided I'm taking my dear friend, whom I shall now affectionately call the Anti-Skeeter, out for a very greasy and well-deserved lunch."
Ginny found herself sighing with relief. Since her return, she had picked up a grueling schedule of assignments and had stayed late each day for the past week to help the editors finalize the next issue. All she wanted was an excuse to leave the office for a while and breathe.
"Will there be wine involved?" Ginny smiled coyly as she shut off her laptop and headed for the door. Hermione blanched. She hadn't taken a sip of alcohol since her almighty hangover from two weeks prior.
"Don't make me sick," she groaned.
Ginny laughed, poking her finger at Hermione's shoulder.
"Don't call me Anti-Skeeter."
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Ginny sighed into another spoonful of the chocolate and raspberry parfait that Hermione had all but forced her to order.
"I really should kill you for this," she said, though she took another large bite, melting with pleasure.
Hermione chuckled and stole a spoonful from the dish. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, with only the sounds of silverware clinking on plates between them. After a moment, Ginny set down her spoon and rubbed her belly with a sigh of contentment. When she lifted her eyes from her dessert, she met the intense gaze of her companion.
"What?" She awkwardly looked to either side of her and questioned whether she had raspberry seeds stuck in her teeth. "Do you want another?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"No," she said with a no-nonsense tone. "I want you to tell me what happened at Le Vin de Ciel."
Ginny swallowed another mouthful of chocolate and nervously brushed the hair out of her face.
"What-what are you talking about?"
Hermione arched her brow and narrowed her eyes at the same time, looking much like Mrs. Weasley.
"You know what I'm talking about, Gin. You haven't uttered one word about the vineyard since you got back, and I know something must have happened with the way you've been working yourself to madness at the office this week."
Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but Hermione held up a hand to silence her.
"Listen, I'm not thick you know. I did all the research on Le Vin de Ciel, Gin-I know who owns that property."
Ginny's mouth flapped shut. She felt completely set up. Hermione had dragged her out of the sanctuary of her office, baited her with chocolate mousse and then reeled her in like a fish. She'd been utterly and completely duped.
But as eager as she was to tell someone about her run in with Malfoy, she couldn't bring herself to admit how much it had rattled her. Not even to her dear friend, as she stared at her with eyes that clearly loved and worried about her.
"Oh, well," she shrugged nonchalantly, sipping her water. "I mean, I did see quite a few people there. You know the usual stiff-collared crowd-loads of galleons, with no idea where to stick them but up each others' arses…" she tried to laugh but ended up choking on an ice cube in the process.
Hermione beat her back while she gagged and eventually recovered, patting her red face with the backs of her hands.
"Look at you-I've rarely seen you so out of sorts," Hermione declared. "What the hell did Malfoy say to you?"
Ginny waved her hand in front of Hermione's mouth to make her lower her voice.
"It was nothing, Hermione, I tell you. Please, can we drop it?"
The brunette crossed her arms over her chest, clearly stating she was not willing to budge on the issue.
Ginny smiled beseechingly at her, hoping for mercy. When none came, and Hermione looked even sterner, she finally gave in.
"Oh fine, then. Since, you went through all this trouble to soften me up with bloody sweets and all…"
Hermione listened for the next ten minutes as Ginny recounted the uncomfortable experience with Malfoy. She left out the part about his father; she'd kept it to herself for so long, it felt only natural to omit it from her story now.
When she finished, she waited for Hermione to launch into a tirade about what a prat Malfoy was and how sorry she was he hadn't been thrown into Azkaban with the rest of his lot.
To her surprise, Hermione screwed her face into deep thought.
"Well, I wonder what he plans to do now he's back in the spotlight-other than the vineyard of course."
Ginny said nothing.
"You know, the boy was a complete prick in school but I'd be interested to see what he's like now. Will he take up Dark Arts in secret like Lucius had for so long, or…" she trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging.
Ginny felt a little uncomfortable talking about Malfoy in public where she feared he might spring up at any time and overhear them.
"Well, who knows, I suppose," she said, lamely. "Guess we'll have to wait and see."
Hermione snapped out of her thought and shrugged her shoulders.
"Nonetheless, I can understand if the whole thing must have upset you a little," She took Ginny's hands in her own and gave them a squeeze.
Ginny shook her head. "I wasn't upset at all, it was really fi-"
"Ginny," Hermione looked grave. "Malfoy up until the end of it all was the Dark Lord's follower-he played a hand in the deaths of loads of innocent witches and wizards, even his own friends for Christ's sake."
Her eyes softened as she continued. "I can't imagine what it must have been like for you, seeing such a dark reminder of that time in the flesh. But you don't have to put on a brave face about it. You know we would all have felt the same way."
Ginny was surprised to feel her eyes fill and she quickly dropped her gaze.
"It's no big deal, Hermione. It was a long, long time ago."
Hermione gave her a small smile, but she shook her head.
"We'd all like to think we've gotten past it, Gin, but the truth is we still remember. I think about it every day, seeing what we saw, being there in the thick of it all."
Her eyes welled with tears as well and Ginny felt horribly awkward sitting in a pub, having a cry over a greasy table.
"Me, too," she said finally. "I wish I didn't."
Hermione nodded slowly, giving her hands another squeeze.
"But what if we really did all forget, Gin? What if we forgot about the ones we lost-Charlie and Percy and Dean and all the others?"
Ginny felt a few tears slip onto her cheeks at the mention of her brothers. She felt like she'd only seen them yesterday, brave and alive and fighting beside her.
"If we forget," Hermione said, wiping her own eyes. "Then what the hell were we all fighting for?"
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Ginny left work early that evening. She swept the flock of memos that had been flapping impatiently about the room for the past hour into a desk drawer and closed her curtains over the vast glass window that gave a sweeping view of London's busy streets below.
Her chat with Hermione had been comforting and upsetting at the same time. She felt as if a huge weight had shifted off her shoulders at last, and yet she felt more confused than ever.
If Malfoy truly was on Voldemort's side, then why did he kill his father? Was it for personal gain? Was he acting on another's order?
With so many questions swirling about her head, she could hardly focus on the stacks of copy she had yet to edit.
With a sigh of defeat, she clicked off her desk lamp and made her way through the expansive office space.
On the opposite end of the office, a dim glow outlined her boss's door.
"Just came to say g'night," she said, poking her head into Colin's office. His was grander than any other, with stainless steel and black furnishings. Lined on the shelves that flanked each wall were piles of books and other odds and ends. Colin also kept a vast collection of his photography and moving, smiling faces peeked from behind volumes of encyclopedias and other texts.
He was leaning over his desk, with his favorite red-inked quill clutched in his left hand. He made a few more slashes across the page before he looked up and gave her a smile that betrayed his exhaustion.
"Hello, Gin, are you heading out this early?" He glanced at his watch. "It's not past midnight yet. Are you feeling ill?"
Ginny guffawed at him and perched herself on the edge of his desk.
"No, smart arse, I feel fine. Just tired is all."
Colin nodded and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head.
"Tell me about it. I've been inking up poor Morgan's narrative on Gringotts for the past half hour. I'm frightened for next month's issue with the crap I've been getting in from writers lately."
Ginny glared at him and playfully threw a paper clip between his eyes.
"Hey, I've been busting my arse for you writing and editing every day. Can a girl get a little appreciation?"
Colin laughed and held his hands up in mock surrender.
"All right, calm down. We both know I wasn't referring to my star reporter." He winked at her, a signature move that failed to send her spinning into a frenzy of nerves like others.
"Save your stupid winking for Sandra from the fashion department, all right?"
He appeared hurt but the devious twinkle in his blue eyes gave him away.
"What, has she mentioned me lately?"
Ginny smacked him on the shoulder. "Colin Creevey! After you made us sit through an hour-long lecture about inter-office dating last month, here you are shagging-"
"Hey, hey," He cut her off, laughing aloud. "All right. Point taken."
Ginny began to smile in triumph but her jaws split wide open in a loud yawn.
"You're a mess, Weasley. Go home and get some proper sleep before I have you fired." He wagged his quill at her threateningly.
"Shut up, prat." She gathered her bag and made her way to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"
"Tomorrow," he murmured, returning to the ink-stained article. Ginny had barely closed the door before he called her back inside.
"Gin, I completely forgot to ask you earlier," he trailed off as he rifled through a few papers on his desk, searching for something. Ginny tapped her foot impatiently, itching to Apparate to her flat and take a long, warm bath.
"Ah, here we are." He held up a wrinkled memo and handed it to her. Scrawled in his hasty handwriting was an address in the city.
"What's this?" Ginny eyed it quizzically. "One of the brothels you frequent?"
"Ha-ha, dear friend," he said, glaring. "It's actually some background on a bloke I think you might be interested in writing a piece about."
Ginny raised her eyebrows, her curiosity piqued, as he handed her a slip of paper with a very familiar face smiling upon it.
"Name's Adrien Cordier and he's the French ambassador to the Ministry of Magic," Collin said, "He's apparently come to weasel old Shacklebolt and friends into reforming an alliance with the French."
Ginny felt her pulse quicken. So that was the real reason Adrien had come to visit his cousin. But the French had been on England's wrong side ever since they refused to help in the fight against Voldemort's forces. It was one thing to join elves and wizards together, but to reunite the French with Britain would be quite the task indeed.
"Cordier, you say? I think I might have heard of him," she finally said.
Colin nodded dismissively, "Glad to hear it, but he's not really our story."
He flipped the page over, replacing Adrien's smiling green eyes with a different face, one cold and smeared by an angry scowl. Instantly, Ginny felt her heart skip.
"Draco Malfoy," Collin announced, failing to notice her discomfort. "I'm sure you remember him well from Hogwarts days, but no one has seen hide or tail of the smarmy Death Eating bastard since the War. Then all of the sudden he pops back in to launch an Elf-managed vineyard at his father's old stomping grounds?"
Ginny shook the startled expression from her face. "Right, it's a bit odd, I suppose."
"It's bollocks is what it is," Collin said, slapping the paper down on the table and startling Ginny from her minor stupor. "Malfoy is back for a reason, and it's got nothing to do with wine, I'll bank on that. Now I need you to find out everything you can about where he's been for the past decade, what he's got to do with his cousin's business with the Ministry and anything else you can dig up in the process." Collin handed her the paper again. "I want you trailing his every move, Gin, you're the best reporter I've got."
Ginny swallowed over her dry throat and held the paper in her hand loosely. This was the kind of story anyone in her shoes would kill for. She knew she should have no second thoughts. She should take the assignment, bid Collin farewell and skip along out of the office, amazed at her good fortune.
But why did it have to be Malfoy?
If anyone knew what she knew about Lucius' death, Draco would be plastered across every major news publication in the Wizarding world, and she wasn't sure she wanted to be the witch responsible for that.
"Gin, are you all right?" Collin was eyeing her appraisingly. She immediately straightened up and shook her head to disperse her racing thoughts. If someone was going to break the story, she thought, at least let it be her who had witnessed the truth.
"Of course, Collin," she said, dredging up a smile. "I'll start as soon as possible."
Collin beamed back at her. "Great, knew I could count on you, Gin, and looks like you'll have your chance to start sooner than you might think," he added. "I've learned Malfoy recently purchased a place in the city. He's been very low key about it all, but the place is a fortress. No one puts up 2 million galleons for a home and can expect to remain anonymous."
"2 million, eh?" Ginny whistled appreciatively, "Well, he's obviously enjoying his inheritance."
"Damn right about that, you are," he said. "And good old mother Malfoy will be hosting a housewarming for her son there this weekend. It's invite-only but, naturally, I've gotten my hands on a spare." He waved his wand and a bright red envelope that looked unnervingly like a howler appeared before her.
"And will they take kindly to having the press crash their party?" Ginny asked, taking the envelope from the air.
"Of course they won't," he said, smiling in a way that Ginny recognized and knew usually corresponded with trouble.
"Collin, I am not disguising myself and sneaking into a private party," she said abruptly, catching his line of thought. "It's completely unethical!"
"Oh come off it, Gin, I'm not asking you to color your hair purple or anything," he said. "You'll be attending as a plus one."
"And whose plus one will I be?" She said, trying to figure out where this was going.
"I hope you've been practicing your French, my dear," he said. "You'll be spending the evening at Cordier's side."
"What?" Ginny set the invite back on his desk. "Collin Creevey, are you selling me out so you can get your bloody scoop on Malfoy?"
Collin withdrew his smug smirk and recoiled a bit in his seat at the fiery glare she aimed at him.
"Come off it, Gin, I may be a journalist but I'm not a complete arse. Cordier approached me, in fact. He sent an owl the day after you returned from assignment, trying to find out how he could contact you. I ignored it at first, chalking him up as another of your potential stalkers, and told the receptionist to block further messages," he paused to smile at her cheekily.
"But then, of course, I found out who he was when I received another owl today with the invitation for you."
He leaned in closer then, gazing at her with a look bordering exasperation. "Look, you're not really upset I set you up with a Ministry ambassador to break what could potentially be the story of your entire career, are you?"
Ginny shrugged, avoiding the question. "Don't get your wand in a knot, Creevey, I've already said I'll do the story, haven't I?"
"That's the spirit then," he said, flashing a smile. "You've got three weeks."
Ginny took the envelope with the invitation and the photos of Draco and Adrien and made her leave. When, moments later, she had at last Apparated outside of her apartment door, she paused to let her head thud deftly against the hard wood.
"What the hell have you gotten yourself into now, Weasley?"
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May 11, 2008
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