Unofficial Portkey Archive

Blue-Eyed Angel

Chapter Seven

"You're coming down to see me throughout your day, we're lunching privately together, and now you're sneaking me into your home after work? Be careful, Reamann, people might think we are secretly lovers," Draco teased as he walked into Reamann's house. Reamann closed and locked his front door behind them.

"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy, and we could have done this at your place," Reamann grumbled as he turned from his door.

"No we couldn't have," Draco said dismissively, looking around Reamann's living room with mild interest. "Nice pad," he commented.

"We can't dawdle; I'll give you the grand tour some other time. My girlfriend will be home soon enough and we have a lot of work to get through before that," he said.

"Girlfriend, huh? She pretty?" Draco asked, teasing still as he eyed Reamann slyly.

"I don't think that is any concern of yours."

"We Malfoys are a good judge of aesthetic attractiveness, particularly when it comes to the opposite sex. Care for me to weigh in on the matter?" he offered with a devious smile that was sure to make any girl flush. There was a strong and striking man underneath Draco's worn and tired exterior and the glint in his eyes showed he was still a shadow of the young man he had been back in Hogwarts, before Azkaban robbed him of his youth.

"Stay away from my girlfriend," Reamann warned.

"Afraid my devastatingly good looks and charm will lure her away should we chance meet?"

"You are not charming, you're conceited."

"What would you know about charm? You couldn't charm the warts off a skinned toad," Draco quipped. "I would have you know there is actually very little difference between charm and arrogance."

"And of the two of us, which is the one with a girlfriend, Malfoy? Now here," he said, holding out a relatively thin file to Draco. Draco just looked at it, then at Reamann. "This is the file on the case; it's magically preserved so I can't make copies, so don't mess up the original," he warned. "I think it would be best that you read it over first, before anything else."

"You have any peanut butter?" Draco asked, not taking the file from Reamann, just leaving Reamann to stand there with his arm extended and file presented.

"What?" he asked completely caught off guard by Draco's sudden and odd question.

"Do you have any peanut butter? I'm hungry," he said, expanding on that a little more but still leaving little explanation.

"Oh," Reamann said, dropping his arm to his side, no longer offering the file out to Malfoy.

"I think there is a jar out in the kitchen…I could go have a look," he offered, trying to be helpful while still feeling Draco's request was more than a little odd.

"You go get changed like you want to," Draco said, knowing exactly what Reamann was thinking and letting that fact be known between them. "I know my way around a kitchen," he said, walking into the adjoining room where there was a tidy little kitchen. Draco flicked on the switch, knowing exactly where it was on the wall like he had been there before.

Reamann watched Draco open a drawer and pull out a spoon and then search for the peanut butter in the cupboards. Shaking his head with a shrug he did as Draco had suggested and what he himself wanted: he headed off to his bedroom to change out of his robes, dropping the file on the coffee table as he passed.

He hung his robes up to be worn again tomorrow, and dressed in comfortable black slacks and a red sweater. He quickly slicked his hair back with a comb with only a glance in the mirror before heading back out into his living room. There he found Draco curled up in one of his soft chairs, legs tucked up to his chest and feet to the side, file open atop his knees, a spoon full of peanut butter held in his mouth, both hands busy with the paperwork.

"Comfortable?" Reamann asked, noticing the jar of peanut butter sitting open on the coffee table.

"Mmhm," Draco muttered indistinctly through his occupied mouth, looking over the paperwork with fast moving silver eyes behind black glasses.

Reamann sat on his couch and watched Draco as he withdrew the spoon from his mouth to hold in his right hand, a smooth lump of peanut butter still clinging to it, his mouth swallowing the sticky peanut butter slowly as he rolled his tongue around in his mouth behind his tightly closed lips.

"As you can see, there isn't much to work with at the moment. Now that I'm working on the case I will be going to the Muggles and getting their information while the Aurors review the attacks again from our side of things. Hopefully we will find some common ground and discover facts we don't know yet, thanks to better communication," he explained as Draco absentmindedly put his spoon back in his mouth and continued to read.

"Mmhm," he muttered again.

"You even listening to me?" he asked, eyeing Draco. Draco just shook his head, his mouth stuck with peanut butter and the spoon that held it.

Reamann sighed while leaning his back into the couch and let Draco read on. He supposed they could talk after he was done.

Draco read in silence, sucking on his spoon, eyes moving rapidly over the paper. Reamann could see great calculating intelligence behind Draco's eyes as he read the material, despite the otherwise ridiculous peanut butter. Draco's eyes were what was the most alive about him. They could sparkle with mischief, darken with understanding, and flicker with thought.

Reamann understood that being a werewolf was "degenerative," and over time one would eventually succumb to it and die, but he had not fully appreciated that knowledge until he had met Draco; someone he knew to only be thirty years old. That meant Draco was only six years older than him.

It was a shame in his opinion that he had not known Draco in his prime, before his eyes were all that remained of his true self. If Draco were even half as good looking as he was intelligent, he would have made sure his girlfriend Ginny never came within a hundred paces of him.

"What is in Manchester?" Draco finally asked after swallowing his peanut butter.

"What?"

"All the attacks were in Manchester. What's in Manchester?" he asked, still looking at the file.

"Um, it's a metropolitan area, was the world's first industrialized city, and key in the Muggle Industrial Revolution. It's a center for arts and literature now…" he said, thinking of what he could.

"Is there anything that would attract a dark witch or wizard there and then entice them to want to attack the wee Muggles?" Draco asked, finally looking up from the file over his glasses that had slipped down the bridge of his nose slightly.

"If I knew, I wouldn't need you and this case would be solved now, wouldn't it?" Reamann sighed. Draco shrugged in a "fair enough" gesture.

"The city is the third largest conurbation in England and has a large populous of homosexuals," Draco muttered and Reamann looked at him. "Hey, do not look at me like that with your back to the wall. I'm not a jobby jabber, that's not my scene," he snapped defensively, glaring. "Manchester just happens to be commonly referred to as `Gaychester,' awright?" he said with narrowed eyes. Reamann held up his hands in a surrendering gesture, urging Draco to back down a little.

"I said nothing," he laughed.

"There is great magical influence there." Draco continued on, still glaring but looking at the helpless and innocent file now. "If these attacks were meant to go unnoticed the one or ones responsible certainly picked one of the worst places imaginable to carry on their deviously dark deeds."

"You think someone is trying to get our attention?" Reamann asked, leaning forward to place his forearms on his knees, glad to finally hear what Draco had to say on the matter.

"Look at the five attacks. None of them were covered up, not even from the Muggle police. They were all on people with no hope of vanishing and it going unnoticed, and they were all attacked by different means…either by curse, or spell, or jinx, or artifact. There has been no connection found between the Muggles other than they were attacked by magical force and were held in high regard in their Muggle community," he said, then looked down at the file and read from it aloud. "Maggie was always such a wonderful woman; I can't imagine why anyone would hurt her." He flipped the page over and read more. "Mr. Otto was always so friendly even though he lived all alone. He always chatted with me over the hedge with a smile on his face and was so gracious," he read, stopping and looking up and Reamann. "The interviews of the Muggle neighbors are worthless but for telling us that the ones attacked were clearly not the type to fall into bad company with a witch or wizard of any caliber, and were likely not asking for it or part of some underground Dark Arts scheme."

"So, you're saying there is no pattern?" Reamann asked sounding a little disappointed. He had been sure if anyone could find one it would have been Draco.

"Look at who was attacked. We have an elderly man, a young woman, a mother of three, a gay male, and a single school teacher. The law of averages says there should be coincidences…same hair color, same job, same car dealer…something. The victims here all are so different with no discernable similarity to one another, that it seems like whoever did this went out of their way to make it so there would be no pattern," he said while looking down at the file and sticking the spoon back in his mouth.

"So what do you think?" he asked, Draco swallowing hard again.

"I think this is just the beginning of something much bigger than just a few nasty attacks on some unsuspecting Muggles. No deaths so far, but given the increasing viciousness of the attacks…" he said trailing off.

"You think there will be a killing next?" Reamann asked.

"Expect your first crime scene on this case to be a murder," Draco said darkly, looking up at him from the file.

Draco and Reamann spent the next hour reviewing the file, possible motives, and the means of each attack, (all while Draco helped himself to a few more spoonfuls of Reamann's peanut butter) but in the end coming to no satisfactory conclusions and not really being any closer to solving the case than they had that morning. Draco looked a little frustrated. He seemed putout by the fact that he could not come in and single-handedly solve the case with his brilliance.

At the sound of a key being inserted into the front door they looked up in unison from their rereading of the file.

"Shit," Reamann hissed, standing. Draco looked at him while he continued to sit in the armchair, leaning over the file that was on the coffee table. "My girlfriend is home," he said, walking over to the front door in hopes of heading her off.

"Don't act as though I'm some terribly reprehensible and shameful company or my feelings will be hurt, Reamann," Draco drawled.

"Get out of here," he hissed over his shoulder and Draco stood slowly with a roll of his eyes as he removed his glasses and pocketed them.

"Caught by his other, unsuspecting lover in the act…oh the fates are cruel," Draco mocked, grabbing his crumpled cloak from the seat of his chair in no state of haste.

"Oh, hey, Reamann," Ginny said, leaning in and kissing his cheek. "Why did you lock me out if you were home, baby?" she asked, pulling away to see Draco over Reamann's shoulder. Draco was frozen in place, staring at Ginny with wide eyes of surprise. He hadn't known Ginny Weasley was Reamann's girlfriend…how had he not known that?

"Draco?" she asked in just as measurable disbelief. Reamann turned and sighed.

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Draco walked briskly down the cement front steps that lead to the sidewalk. Already on his way down the street, Ginny stepped outside while calling after him.

"Draco, Draco!" she called.

Draco said nothing, his hands deep in his pockets, acting like he hadn't heard her.

Ginny jogged down the street and grabbed his shoulder to try and stop him.

"Draco, wait up," she said, turning him around.

"What is it, Weasley?" he asked in his usual unfriendly tone.

"There's no need to run off," she said.

"Reamann made it clear he wanted me gone. I know when I'm not welcome and I don't inflict my company on those who don't appreciate it," he grumbled.

"It's not like that, I'm sure," she urged. "But, what were you doing here?" she asked, wondering what was going on that her boyfriend would not mention his association with Draco Malfoy to her when she had just been asking about Malfoy the night before.

"Just helping Mr. Rossiter with his case," he said, rolling his shoulder out of Ginny's grip.

"You, you are his informant?" she asked and Draco blinked at her. "He mentioned he was working with some sort of `secret informant' on the case. I had no idea it was you."

"Obviously," he drawled

"Draco…" she said with a sigh.

"Is there something you want from me, Weasley, or am I free to go?" he drawled.

"Does one always have to want something from you when they try and talk to you, Draco?" she asked, hands on hips.

"That has been my experience, yes," he answered coldly.

"I think we need to talk…" she said, ignoring his retort, not about to argue with him, not feeling it was her place.

"About what, Weasley? The weather…Quidditch stats for this new season…stock options…?" he scathed.

"About, you know…it," she said, crossing her arms then, looking uncomfortable. She did not have to say what "it" was for Draco to know. It was obviously on his mind too whenever they were near each other. His unusually severe coldness and desire to get away at the moment was evidence enough to that. He was usually unflappable…unless Ginny was nearby.

"There is nothing to talk about, Weasley," Draco said dismissively harsh, while turning to walk away.

"We kissed, Draco," she said, saying it aloud only making it seem so much more significant and intense than it already was while bubbling in the pit of her stomach. Draco must have felt it too because he froze and visibly sighed, turning slowly to look back at her.

"That was thirteen years ago," he sighed, looking at her, angry that she would announce it aloud for the whole world to overhear, even if they were alone on the street. He was a Malfoy, she was a Weasley; Malfoys and Weasleys do not kiss…yes, it had been the female Weasley he had snogged, but that only barely made it slightly more acceptable.

"Yet there is this awkwardness between us still, and don't tell me you don't feel it because I know you do," she said, pointing at him in an intimidating fashion that would have made Molly Weasley proud.

The darkness was pressing down on them like a physical weight. The solidity of that feeling was only intensified by the dread of tomorrow. The impending fight, the people that would undoubtedly die…it was difficult to try and sleep with that hanging over one's head.

It was the night before that final battle, no one yet knowing what the outcome would be, no one knowing what would become of them, no one knowing who would live and who would die and by what means.

Ginny was kneeling on the cold frozen ground, folding out a blanket in front of her, going through the motions as though she were intending to sleep, but knowing that she would never be able to rest her body without first finding a way to ease her mind.

She flung the blanket out into the air with a snap and directed it towards the ground as it drifted down slowly. She was also trying very hard to distract herself from the boy that sat just three feet from her, very still and quiet, staring at her.

Draco's legs were pulled up to his chest and they were held there by his arms. He watched Ginny set out her bed, and eventually rested his chin atop his knees, his eyes still following her every movement.

"Draco," she finally said softly, attempting to break their awkward silence and unable to deal with his eyes boring into her any longer.

"You honestly think you will get any sleep tonight, knowing what comes tomorrow?" he asked, his voice very throaty and deeper than usual. His voice always dropped when he whispered.

"There is no harm in at least trying," she said, fussing with her bedding some more, as an excuse to not look at him. "I don't want to think about tomorrow," she said, not wanting to talk about it any more than she wanted to think about it, but maybe speaking it out loud would help her mind relax. Maybe Draco would even offer some comforting words.

"We are all going to die tomorrow," he said darkly, hugging his legs tighter. Ginny took a deep but shuddering breath. Those had not been the "comforting words" she had hoped for from him.

"You can't be thinking like that. You have to stay strong and mindful and positive. Otherwise you'll compromise your wit and you will be guaranteed to fail," she said, Draco not being the only one she was trying to convince with her little motivational speech.

"I'm scared too," he said, knowing she was trying to find comfort in him, tilting his head while his chin still rested on his knees. Ginny looked over at him at that most honest confession and stared.

"Draco…" she attempted.

She had been captured, along with Hermione, by the Death Eaters because of a trap Draco had led them into…but then he had turned around and saved her, Hermione getting away on her own.

Ginny had thought for a brief moment that he had turned to the other side again because of that trap…everyone else still believed him to be a double-crosser, even Hermione who now believed Ginny dead because of Draco's betrayal, having not seen him make another turn and help her. Ginny had to admit, Draco seemed to switch sides as frequently as a shuttlecock in a game of badminton, and that made him hard to trust and even harder to predict…but he had saved her life, she could not deny that.

Draco had risked everything including his life by almost exposing himself to the Dark Side as being a double agent to save her, and he had swept her away from the scene, which is how they found themselves together now…alone, in the cold, him staring at her with those inhuman silver eyes.

She was to return to the Order in the morning and reveal that she was in fact alive, when there was light and it was safe to travel. Now in the dark, however, it was so cold and they were camping together, both dreading the coming day.

"If this was to be your last night on earth, you were positively going to die tomorrow, would you be content with your life? Would you be able to pass on knowing you did all that you could, and have no regrets about anything?" he asked.

"Well," she said, thinking about that for a moment, really considering her answer. "Yes. I believe I would," she answered with a nod.

"I wish I could say the same," he said darkly, looking away from her to stare off into the cold night air, their small self-burning and waterproof blue fire all that gave them light and warmth, the blue light giving Draco an almost silver glow about him, like illuminated ice, or a ghost. "If I were to die tomorrow there would be so much I would regret, so much I would leave unfinished, unsaid…"

"Draco…" she said, feeling her heart sink for him. She had been so ready to believe the worst in him like everyone else, and yet he had saved her. She did not know what to make of him, but knew he was so much more than he had ever let anyone know. She knew she was seeing something in him few had ever had the opportunity to see.

"I'm only telling you this so you understand what I have to do," he said, looking right at her then, eyes instantly staring deep into hers.

"What…what is it you have to do?" she asked, swallowing forcibly as her stomach clenched and heart sped up, fearing him still, not convinced he was one-hundred-percent good guy. Was he going to hurt her?

Draco released his knees from his hug and rolled up onto them with the grace of a cat unfolding. On his hands and knees now he had closed the small space between them, only needing to stretch his neck out slowly to lean in.

Ginny's eyes widened as Draco planted a kiss on her lips. His were so soft, so unsure, like he was waiting for her to pull back and slap him or to say something, to reject him in some way. When she didn't, he pulled away, their lips only having brushed so tenderly for a moment. He stayed stretched out on his hands and knees, looking at her from inches away, considering her for a long moment in the cold light.

Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed pink, lips still slightly pouted.

Ginny did not say anything, she did not pull away or look angry, so Draco tilted his head slightly, leaning in to give her a proper kiss that time, gentle still like before but a passion there behind his nervousness.

Ginny's arms wound around Draco's neck and she pulled him close, sending him off balance to collapse on top of her as she fell backwards, him now pinning her to the half-made makeshift bed she had been fussing with only moments before as a means of distraction. Their passionate and deep kiss now successfully cleared her mind of worry and doubt for that blissful moment in a way the blankets never could have.

The kiss had that calming effect on him too as his hands roamed, making it a little more than just a kiss.

"There is nothing to be said or done about it," Draco said, looking away, feeling angry, not at Ginny, and not at what she had brought up, but because he was embarrassed. He was angry because he felt uncomfortable and because he was blushing. "You have a boyfriend now, and I…well, I'm not the same person I was back then," he muttered, shifting in his discomfort and hugging himself in a pouting and protective gesture as they stood in the middle of the snowy sidewalk.

"I don't understand," she said while furrowing her brow at him. "The Draco Malfoy I saw that night was kind and gentle, misunderstood, and intelligent…he had nearly sacrificed everything and risked exposure and his own life to save me," she said, getting Draco to look at her. "A little shy and very unsure of himself maybe…" she nearly whispered as she took a step closer, "you know, underneath that pompous and conceited façade you threw around to keep people away…there was an actual person, someone that felt remorse and was scared," she said, Draco staring at her. "What has changed about you if you are not that same kind and insightful person?"

"Who says it was a `façade'?" he said, narrowing his eyes and closing himself off, using his anger as a shield as well as a wedge to drive her back and away from him. He had opened up to Ginny so much that night, he was feeling vulnerable and exposed at the moment. Feeling so insecure made him angry, which made him mean and harsh, which made him feel better but not in a satisfying way.

"I know you guard yourself…you are doing it right now. So few people would see it as a lie, Draco, but I know you are not as big of a git as you try to be because I saw something in you that night that you had never shown anyone before and maybe since," she said, eyes soft and warm as she looked at him, seemingly unbothered by his harshness towards her so far.

"You don't know me, Weasley, and you never did. Do not mistake one night of fretful confession and foolish fraternization as a glimpse as to who I `secretly' am. I thought I was going to die; I was not myself."

"Was that all it was to you, a `foolish fraternization'?" she demanded, her face finally flushing in anger. She had been open and honest with him that night and she had thought he had been too. She was being just as open now and he was using that as a means to attack her, to hurt her. She was outraged.

"It was just a kiss, Weasley. We both knew that could have been our very last night alive, period. We took advantage of that, each respectively. Don't mistake my actions as being anything less than opportunistic snogging," he said harshly, something inside him hurting with those words, seeing the pain on Ginny's face only intensifying it.

"So then I guess I have had the wrong impression of you all these years. You saved my life because you felt you had to, not because you wanted to," she said in a huff.

"Must have," he said flatly, closed off and hiding behind his cold Malfoy mask.

"Goodnight then, Draco Malfoy," she said firmly, turning and walking back towards her and Reamann's home. Draco looked after her for a long moment, watching her hair swish back and forth, looking almost as annoyed as her. He closed his eyes tight and groaned quietly to himself. He was not going to buckle, he was not going to buckle, he was not!

Ginny was almost to her front steps when he called to her almost against his will, buckling in a way that brought shame to all Malfoys before him.

"Ginny," he called softly, her first name escaping his lips. Ginny turned to look at him, noting the use of her first name with as much surprise as him. She waited silently for him to say more and for a moment they just stood in silence. Draco opened and closed his mouth once and then took a deep breath. "Goodnight, Ginny," he said softly.

Ginny gazed at him penetratingly for a long moment.

"Good night, Draco," she said again, this time as softly as he had, all the harshness she had used on him drained away just like that as she looked into his apologetic and sad eyes.

Draco turned on his heels and quickly moved down the street, fighting not to blush and fighting not to break out into a run. Malfoys did not run away from girls…not even when said girls were chasing after them in mad lust like they had been known to do. Malfoys did not blush. Malfoys did not blush and run away from girls, while embarrassed.

Ginny was a Weasley, and she had a boyfriend. Not that he cared…but flirting with her was not acceptable, not by any means, not on any level.

Had he been flirting with her? Draco groaned. He had hadn't he? He had tried to be harsh but in the end couldn't do it. What was wrong with him? When did he ever struggle to be a git? It was practically genetically-encoded in him to be a prat. When did it ever bother him to be so harsh?

Was it because of the kiss?

No. It wasn't.

That had been thirteen years ago and just an innocent kiss.

A passionate- rolling around on the ground, deep and penetrating- desperate and unrestrained…innocent kiss.

Just an innocent kiss…

So why was he blushing?

"Shit," Draco sighed, rubbing his face with his right hand while trying not to think of that night and what he and Ginny had almost done.

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Working with Muggles had never been hard until Reamann was working as a wizard. Suddenly everything was so much more difficult to understand or make meaningful.

The crime scene was taped off and the security around it was tight. The newest attack had been, unfortunately, discovered by Muggles, meaning the Aurors had to work with the Metropolitan Police rather than the other way around. That meant it would be nearly impossible to get information without manipulating those in power, naturally with spells and charms.

Wizards knew Muggles existed, but Muggles (for the most part) did not know wizards existed, and there inlay the problem.

The reasons why Muggles would question a bunch of odd strangers intruding on their crime scenes were not difficult to grasp, but that just meant his job was most important and he was about to see if he would sink or float.

Reamann had a shiny little plastic identification tag clipped to the collar of his Muggle coat. It was supposed to grant him access to the crime scene. It was official; Muggle Ministry approved. Unfortunately, even the smallest of things when it came to wizards and witches working with Muggles, had to be cleared through the highest of channels on both ends. It was Scotland Yard that knew about wizards, and they kept that information on a need to know basis, so requests were slow to go through. The fact that he had the badge alone was progress.

Working with Muggles, while keeping the wizarding world secret, was more than just a little difficult.

Waiting at the line of tape while his ID was taken from him to be cleared with the Chief Constable in charge of the scene, Reamann caught a glimpse of Muggle news crews on the other side of the barricade he had already passed through. They had not been cleared to get as far as him, so as he waited to get more access, he watched them shout and hold out microphones and record what they could, all asking details about the case they knew no one would, or could answer.

This was not how Reamann wanted to spend his Saturday morning.

"Chief Constable says you are cleared but he wants to see you," the deputy said, handing back the plastic badge he had taken from Reamann.

"Aright," he said graciously, nodding and ducking under the tape as it was lifted up a bit for him. "Wondering what we would need a specialist for on a scene this fresh," he said and Reamann's eyes shifted a little uncomfortably as he clipped his tag onto the coat's lapel.

Reamann walked right past the body, laid out on the ground, a sheet pulled over it to keep anyone from seeing it, particularly the new crews so desperate for a shot for the morning broadcast.

"Chief Constable," the man said, presenting his superior with Reamann.

"Oh, excellent. Leave us," the Constable said, waving his gloved hand dismissively. Reamann felt a little uncomfortable watching the other man dismissed like that, but managed a very professional smile once he was gone while extending his hand to the Constable.

"Let's get one thing straight," the Constable said flatly, ignoring Reamann's hand. "I don't like it that you are here and I don't like having specialists forced into my scenes by the powers-that-be without any sort of explanation. I do not know why you are here, or who sent you, but you let me do my job and things will be just fine between us," he said firmly, his aggression very apparent. Reamann let his hand drop and repressed a sigh.

"Sure," he said while reaching into his messenger bag at his side and pulling out a full sized notebook and pen. "I need to talk to the first men on the scene, the woman that found the victim, and then I need to examine the body…"

"What exactly do you specialize in?" the Constable asked, cutting Reamann off. Reamann looked up from his notebook and frowned.

"I'm from SCD11," he said.

"Intelligence?" the Constable asked, knowing the department.

"Yes sir." Reamann nodded, clearing his throat nervously. "So, after I view the body and look over the secured scene, I need a summary written up," he said, looking at the Constable with firm eyes, not letting his hopefulness show through that the man would do all he asked without much complaint or ball busting.

"Sure," he said gruffly, "have a look at the body if you like. Never sleep again after seeing it though." He lit a cigarette and took a long drag from it. Reamann looked at him, hugging his notebook to his chest and feeling uneasy.

"Alright," he breathed, not to be called a coward for not having a look at the body right away, knowing he was being measured and scrutinized by the man who was watching him intently.

Turning around, Reamann looked at the sheet on the ground.

It couldn't be that bad, right?

Squatting down at the edge of the sheet and lifting it up Reamann's eyes widened and he had to quickly drop it and turn away before throwing up.

---------------

"I don't know what the hell I was thinking!" Reamann rambled on later that day. He had spent his entire morning at the crime scene and was now back at the Ministry, in the Hall of Records to be exact, pacing around in the dimly lit cavern.

"Not exactly the glamorous opportunity you had imagined?" Draco asked, atop a ladder, shelving massive volumes on the dusty shelves, sounding less than slightly uninterested in Reamann's minor meltdown. Reamann apparently did not normally work on Saturdays, but Draco did.

"Oh, God, the body. I…I have never seen something so terrible," he said as Draco climbed down. He took the photographs Reamann offered him and flipped through them quickly like they weren't of a horribly disfigured corpse.

"You have lived a terribly sheltered life," Draco said indifferently, handing the pictures back to Reamann over his shoulder as he walked away.

"You are not bothered by…by it?" he asked, unable to even look at them as he closed the large glossy photographs back in his folder.

"I told you there would be a killing next," Draco said as though not understanding why Reamann was so upset or surprised.

"Gee, Malfoy, try not to sound so happy about it," he said, a little annoyed at Draco's complete indifference and lack of sympathy. "And can you really blame me for wishing you would be wrong?" he asked, following after Draco.

"Malfoys are rarely wrong," Draco stated in an unconcerned tone.

"Before this, the biggest case I had worked on was with the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, some dodgy wizard selling Muggles pipe hoses that had a penchant for acting like snakes and attacking gardeners," he muttered. "Nearly strangled one man…but I mostly worked on petty incidents that overlapped Muggle jurisdiction or when things needed to be cleared with the Muggle Ministry."

"Do you know what did that?" Draco asked, referring to the photographs, tired of Reamann's incessant rambling already and hoping to get back on the case at hand.

"No, I think the Aurors will be figuring all that out won't they, I am just the middle man. I collect the evidence and present it in reports and work with the Muggles…" he started on one of his endless explanations again and Draco cut him off.

"It was a Pertorqueodole Hex," he said. Reamann blinked at him.

"A what?" he asked.

"Honestly, if you knew a little Latin you would have a pretty decent idea," Draco snapped, sounding annoyed at last. "Basically it is a disfiguring spell, extremely painful. It agonizingly distorts parts of the body and it is often lethal because if the internal damage it inflicts," he said, sounding as calm as though he were talking about Cheering Charms.

"You knew that just from looking at the pictures?" Reamann asked, almost daring to look at the pictures again himself, to see what Draco had seen.

"Like I said, the one or ones doing this aren't exactly being subtle here. That is a very distinct Dark Spell and any Auror worth his wand would be able to tell you what killed that man the instant he looks at the photographs," Draco said as he wrote something down on the paper work at his desk. He gathered up some more texts and headed back into the endless rows and towers of bookshelves, Reamann following at his heels like a yapping puppy.

"We have a week before the next attack to figure out who is responsible," Draco said.

"A week? What?"

"Look at the file Reamann," Draco sighed. "There have been six attacks in as many weeks. That is called a pattern, and it is the only one we have to work with at the moment. Again, this victim fits no logical sequential string, and now this one is dead, a major distinction from the first attacks. There was an attack last night, so be prepared for another one in about a week's time," he said flatly. "That is, unless the death is some indication that they are stepping up the pace, in which case we could be looking at less than a week," he said, thinking aloud to himself.

"I bet you would make a decent Auror," Reamann commented, interrupting Draco's thoughts. Draco snorted a laugh at that.

"An Auror? Me? Don't be ridiculous," he said dismissively.

"Why not? You seem clever enough."

"And what would you have me do in a duel? Throw my shoe at them?" he asked.

"Well, yeah, I suppose being able to use magic is a key part of being an Auror…" he mumbled. "But I bet you could work in the department, not as a field Auror, but in the investigative division with the older Aurors that are retired from the field," he said, folder still in hand.

"Not gonna happen. So get to work, you have a report due within the hour," Draco said, climbing a ladder and completely dismissing him from their conversation. Reamann would have liked to argue more, but Draco was right about one thing, they were on a tight schedule. He needed to tell Draco all he could before writing up a report and organizing the facts from the scene in the file to be handed into the Aurors for review.

He could handle the organization, but Draco would write up the report after learning all the facts. That was, after all, why he put up with Malfoy.

---------------

"Checking my work for grammatical mistakes, Reamann?" Draco asked as Reamann read over Draco's newly finished report with hungry and furiously moving eyes.

"I need to see what you wrote, incase I am asked about it," he muttered, looking over the parchment still.

"Well, be on your way. I'm taking my lunch and you are holding me up," Draco said, handing some of his thick files of paperwork to Coderdale.

"Thank you, Draco," Reamann said.

"No thanks are necessary. Potions are required though," he said, his body aching again.

"I can have a draught for you tomorrow…"

"Sooner the better, now shove off. Don't want to be late now, Reamann," Draco said, making a "shoo"ing motion with his hands.

"It's very kind of you, Draco to help that young man," Coderdale said after Reamann had left, adding more files to the stack Draco had handed him.

"Kindness has nothing to do with it; I'm simply using him for my own personal gain."

Coderdale shook his head with a smile. "You are just saying that, but I know deep down inside you are enjoying this."

"Enjoying what?"

"Enjoying the opportunity to be clever and help people."

"Well, I do enjoy showing off how clever I am," Draco said, pulling his cloak on.

"It's not a bad thing to show compassion Draco. No one thinks less of you for it, or considers it as a weakness."

"Empathy only leads to the inevitable feeling of helplessness when you realize you cannot help everyone, not even yourself," Draco said, pulling his long hair out the back of his robe and pulling the robe straight on his shoulders.

"You are so jaded, Draco. You are far too young to have such a bleak outlook on life."

"I'm wise beyond my years." Draco smirked, heading out the door for his lunch.

-------------------

"Harry saw us that night," Ginny said, sitting across from Draco in the very same restaurant he and Reamann had dined in the day before. Their meals were before them and Draco was chewing a respectable bite of his turkey sandwich while Ginny shoved her roast beef and gravy around her plate. She had invited Draco out to lunch that morning, by note. Draco, expecting a list of texts and volumes needed from the Department of Magical Transport, had been surprised to see a personal message from Ginny on the purple paper airplane that had landed on his desk.

"Did he now?" Draco drawled, elbows propped up on the table, sandwich in hand. He had agreed to meet her by RSVP paper airplane, not sure why and not sure what the meeting would entail. So far it had been all pleasantries.

"He told me as much after, well, after everything. He had been so distant up until then; I thought it had to do with the war so I didn't press. I didn't realize he was upset over seeing you kissing me."

"I recall you kissing me right back, Weasley," he said, politely shielding his mouth with his hand as he not-so-politely spoke through a mouthful of sandwich. His mother would have gotten a nosebleed at such a show of poor manners, even in the company of a Weasley.

"Well, yes, Harry saw it that way too, I think that's what bothered him so. If you had simply kissed me, he wouldn't have thrown such a benny."

"Is this why you asked me out to lunch? To talk about Potter? Ouch, my feelings. I thought you genuinely liked me. I told all my friends that this was a hot date," Draco teased.

She smiled. "Oh, can the sarcasm, Draco, you know I only wanted to catch up." She paused. "Did you really tell people that…?" she asked, a little worried.

"I lied," he chuckled softly, "I don't have any friends." Draco sounded amused as though the very idea was ridiculous. "I still owe you for saving my life, and letting you treat me to lunch is certainly no skin off my back." He smiled oh-so-perfectly and Ginny shook her head, not minding that he was sticking her with the bill.

"So anyways," he said, back to what Ginny had been talking about, "I thought you and Potter had broken it off months before that…night. What was his eppy about?" he asked, finding some dark satisfaction in knowing he had seriously irked Harry Potter without having tried, for once.

"We were…and really, it was none of his business what I did…but he still cared about me, and I know he had only ended our relationship after Dumbledore…" she froze and Draco sat very quietly. Ginny pressed on, careful what she said from then on. "He ended it to protect me, fully intending on being with my again after the war should everything happen according to plan and we both made it out on the other side," she explained. "Seeing us together, me with you -you of all people- really jarred him it seems. He apparently thought I wanted nothing to do with him, was over him, and that I was with you-"

"Oh please, we were hardly `together,' we shared a bloody kiss," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes. "If his pathetic ego is that easily wounded by something as insignificant as that, then he deserves his misery," Draco said while shaking his head. "And what do you mean me `of all people'? Ouch, my feelings, Weasley," he added on to the end, sounding indignant but Ginny knowing he was teasing her again. Pretty sure at least.

"I didn't mean it like that and you know it. I just meant it from Harry's point of view I couldn't have found a more, well, odious person -in his opinion- to kiss…but Harry is a wonderful guy," she insisted in Harry's defense.

" Such a wonderful guy that you divorced him?" Draco quipped.

"Draco, that's not nice," she said firmly.

"Sorry," he nodded, knowing he could get away with attacking Potter but not her, and since the divorce involved both of them, that was sort of off limits for his smarmy comments and sharp remarks.

"There were a lot of reasons why we got divorced," she then confessed like she needed to talk to someone about this, someone that would maybe understand since her family and friends certainly hadn't. "Mostly the whole marriage had just been a mistake and it took us five years to swallow our respective prides and admit that," she moped, forking at her food. "We care about each other, but we got married for all the wrong reasons."

"Let me guess, the war was over, things were a mess, people were dead, and you two found comfort in each other. You got married because everyone else expected it," he said and Ginny blinked at him.

"Yeah," she said, amazed by Draco's total understanding of the situation with so little explenation on her part.

"Happened at the end of the first war too," Draco said with a shrug and Ginny nodded, not quite losing her faith that Draco was more intuitive than he let on.

"Yeah, well, Harry and I tried to make it work for years, and it did, but he…I don't know, he's a jealous kind of boyfriend and after the war he was just so guarded and protective. Protective of himself, protective of his privacy, protective of anything he held close to him," she sighed. "I couldn't even innocently glance at a guy walking by without him biting my head off over it and acting all accusatory. I never cheated on him but the way he went on about things he made me out to be the Whore of Babylon," she said, looking very angry right then.

"Sorry," Draco said, setting his half eaten sandwich down, feeling full.

"In the end of every row, every accusation, he always seemed to bring you up…" she said, thinking on that hard and Draco blinked at her.

"Me?" he asked. She nodded. "Oh, please don't tell me I had some backward hand in your divorce," he said, fighting not to smile.

"Go ahead, laugh it up, I know you want to."

"I would never laugh at another's misfortune…" he said resentfully but Ginny just eyed him with a very bored expression. "With the acceptation of Potter's pain that is," Draco said, a smile breaking across his face. He tossed his head back and laughed, shaking it once looking back at Ginny. "He was really that upset that I stole a kiss from you?" he giggled with mirth.

"It was more than an innocent little kiss," she said and Draco sobered a little, having spent the better half of the night before convincing himself that the kiss had been completely chaste and innocent when it really hadn't been.

"It's not like we shagged," he said, looking very intently at his sandwich. In all actuality, they almost had.

"I know, I know." Ginny said, pushing her hair back. "Harry and I were just not meant to be and he brought you up only because he was looking for an excuse to break it off at that point."

"I have always been his favorite scapegoat," he grumbled, a lot of humor draining out of his face then.

"He didn't use you as a scapegoat, Draco, the Ministry did," Ginny said solemnly, no longer talking about her relationship right then and how Draco had figured into that.

"Harry could have prevented it," he said bitterly.

"Harry was in no fit state to help anyone for months after the war. He did not know you were in Azkaban until months after you were sent there and Hermione told him. She felt awful leaning the truth at that point, having not known that you hand made another turn before the end, helping Harry defeat the Dark Lord. She saw you hurt on that rooftop with the Death Eaters but believed it was caused by a member of the Order, not Nott, still believing you had caused my death," she explained, them both knowing she had run off from his side to help Harry, leaving Draco hurt and at the mercy of the Aurors and Hermione when they made it to the rooftop.

Draco looked grumpy.

Ginny looked guilt ridden

Draco did not blame Ginny, not in the least…she had saved his life and that was a lot…she been concerned over Harry once the Dark lord was gone, he couldn't expect her to have stayed with him with Harry in so much need at that moment.

He hated the Ministry, the Order, McGonagall, Granger, and Potter for having not come to his aid like he had promised.

He had been promised and assured that he would be forgiven his past trespasses for helping the Order, but when it had come to his trial everyone seemed to come down with a bout of amnesia and no one had helped him, not even Minerva McGonagall, a woman that had promised him so much.

"By the time Harry knew what had happened to you, and Hermione saw me alive and I told her what really happened, and Harry was told how no one else had jumped in to defend you in his absence, there was nothing he could do…so he went and started to reform the Ministry, to help others and prevent them from sharing your fate," she explained.

"Saint Potter," Draco grumbled. Harry had done it, done what he told him, Draco, he would never do: he used his influence over the Ministry to take control. He had not taken it as far as Draco himself would have, he did not become a new Minister, and New Lord, but Harry's "high ground" he liked peering down at him from was becoming more and more level with his by the second.

Draco did not care what Ginny said: Granger had handed him over to the Ministry and Harry along with the Order had abandoned him. He did not care if it was through their maliciousness or incompetence, it did not change what had happened to him. It was their fault.

"Well, he and I are still friends, Draco. I can tell you he feels guilty for not being able to help you."

"Oh, I know he does," Draco said while glaring at his sandwich for something to glare at. He liked to remind Harry Potter, and any other member of the Order, every chance he got, exactly what they had done. Legilimency had its uses, spreading guilty feelings around, pounding un-pleasantries into other's minds, and reminding them of inconvenient truths was just one of them.

He was not bitter…much.

"So do you believe that I cursed Potter at the conclusion of my horseshit trial and, thusly, why he had had such bad luck in the years following, too?" he asked, picking at his sandwich.

"No, I don't think so," she said. "Harry has always had the sort of luck that was double-edged. For every good thing in his life there was a cutting edge of bad that came around and hit him in the back."

Draco nodded, exhausted by the topic now. He did not want to spend his lunch talking about Potter of all people, or the war, or his perturbed and resentful feelings towards the Order. It was making him feel grumpy, even though being around Ginny -for some reason- made him feel kind of happy. A little bit. Not much. Not enough that he was willing to admit it, even to himself.

"So how does it feel to be an independent woman? Or, well, semi-independent. You're living with your boyfriend I see," he said conversationally, moving on.

"Err, well…Reamann," she said, her face suddenly looking a tad sour.

"Oh, oh, that's no good," Draco said with a smile that showed he was just a little too pleased about something. "A bint is not supposed to have such a reaction to the mention of her inamorato," he teased.

"No, you misunderstand. Reamann is so wonderful," she said, realizing her reaction and seemingly horrified by it.

"Mmhm," Draco said, looking at her like he was waiting for the "but."

"But," she said, only making Draco that much more satisfied. "My family likes him so much…"

"And that is a bad thing," Draco said simply, knowing Ginny's explanation would follow.

"My family adored Harry too. From when Harry was practically eleven years old my mother has thought of him as a son. I cared about him, but I did not love him…not in that way, or not enough in that way…but I married him because that's what everyone else wanted." She pushed at her now cold roast beef with her fork. "Now my family is in love with Reamann," she said with an exasperated tone.

"And you feel like you are being pushed into marrying again, marrying Reamann, because your family expects and wants it?" he asked. Ginny looked at him for a long moment and then nodded. "That's really unfortunate," he said, leaning back.

"It totally sucks," she said with feeling, leaning back too.

"My family was like that too, with the whole trying to force marriage upon the disinclined," he confessed as though offering some comfort. "Though we were never officially promised to each other, Pansy Parkinson and I were sort of raised into believing we would be together. I went along with it for a long time because I didn't know any better or anything different and I wasn't interested in anyone else. But in the end I realized that I felt nothing for her. She was just there, a part of my life but not special to me. It certainly didn't help that she had a face like a dropped pie," he said with a smile, implying Pansy was less than attractive. "I realized I couldn't be with someone I did not love, and I ended it just like that. Pansy, my mother, her mother, they all acted like I had done some terrible unfairness and insult to Pansy, but I did not care. They got over it," he said with a shrug.

"Just like that you were able to end it, and just like that your family got over it?" She sounded skeptical.

"Yup, mind you Pansy has not spoken to me since and her mother cursed my name on her deathbed," Draco said casually.

"Oh God," Ginny said, dropping her face into her hands.

"You care about Reamann though, so you said."

"I do, I really do."

Draco waited for his "but," again.

"But," she continued, "I'm not sure about marrying him. I had such a bad experience the first time; I don't want to make the same mistake, so I want to be more careful, take things slow."

"But you are living with him. Would marriage be all that different?" he asked.

"Oh, it is so much different. Marriage does things to people. I can't explain it really, but when you are just dating someone, and living with them they act so much more casual. And you can cling to this idea that if it were to just not work one day, that you could pack up and leave, or kick him out, or take a break from each other. Marriage is permanent," she said.

"Now that's not true, there's always divorce," he joked.

"It just doesn't work that way," she sighed. Draco let his shoulders fall. It seemed he couldn't even joke at the moment with her.

"So you like dating Reamann, but not the idea of marrying him?" he asked, hoping to sum up what she was saying that simply.

"Yeah," she said with a nod.

"And this is not just you trying to sabotage a good thing because you are too insecure to handle it in case it was to fall apart on its own or even worse, work out perfectly?" he asked and Ginny looked at him.

"I wouldn't do that."

"Sure you would, a lot of people do it. They are intimidated by the idea that something in their life going well. They wait for it to go wrong and when it doesn't they get more anxious, feeling that the longer it goes on the worse it will be when it all comes crashing down around their ears. They then sabotage what they have to try and preempt what they are sure is coming, but in reality they just can't handle the thought of anything being perfect," he said. Ginny looked a little shocked.

"You believe that?" she asked.

"Oh sure, I do it all the time," he said with a shrug and Ginny couldn't help but smile, even if it was a little bit of a sad one. "And you know, I was married once," he confessed nonchalantly.

"What? Really?" she asked, surprised by that sudden confession.

"Mmhm," he nodded.

"I take it you're not anymore," she said and he shook his head. "Can I ask what happened?"

"Well, I was in Azkaban, she was not. We worked well that way, but honestly, if we had made it to the end of my term, we wouldn't have worked. I'm not an easy person to live with, so I'm told," he said with a glance at her to show the amusement in his eyes before continuing, "and I'm not sure what we would have done with each other if we were constantly around one another as opposed to our visits that felt so special because they were limited and something to look forward to while we were apart."

"Absence makes they heart grow fonder," she said.

"Something like that," he muttered.

"So you ended up getting divorced because you didn't want to see it end badly on its own? Sabotaging it?" she asked.

"Oh, no. I'm a widower," he said simply and Ginny was left speechless and breathless for a moment.

"Oh," she said, not sure what she could say without babbling on about how sorry she was.

"About the reaction I was expecting. And it's awright, Weasley, I'm not about to break down and start crying right here in front of you over it," he assured. "We were only married for about two years."

"When?"

"From September of my second year in Azkaban to March of my fifth. I was nineteen when we married and not yet twenty-two when she died."

"You are still wearing your wedding band," she noticed, actually paying attention to the simple ring on his left hand for the first time. Somehow she had completely overlooked it all this time.

"Yes, well," he said, sounding a little uncomfortable all of a sudden and spinning the ring around his thin finger with his right hand. "I have not dated since getting out, so I never saw any need to take it off, and all that," he mumbled and Ginny smiled sadly at him.

"You loved her," she said, making it a simple statement.

"It was a difficult love; the worst kind."

"What kind is that?"

"Unrequited love," he sighed and Ginny's eyes only grew softer in sympathy. "I loved her so much more than she loved me, and that made her seriously uncomfortable," he confessed, looking sad at last. He had hoped to just be blasé about the whole affair and make it out to just be some loving but tragic story, but somehow Ginny always managed to encourage the truth out of him. He wanted a topic change before he confessed too much about his disastrous marriage.

"I doubt that, who couldn't love a uy like you," she tried to tease but he just looked more depressed as he stared at the table top. "I mean, she married you, right?"

"You married Harry Potter," he said, looking directly at her then.

"Oh," she mumbled.

"Anyway, enough about me. Let's talk more about you. What are you going to do with this Reamann of yours?" he asked, making a fast transition into another topic rather smoothly if he could say so himself.

"What do you think of Reamann?" she asked right back, glad to be off such a depressing subject, though not exactly thrilled with being back to her pathetic love life. It was depressing all on its own but for different reasons.

"I like his hair," Draco said simply.

"Draco," Ginny laughed, nudging him under the table with a friendly kick. "You work with him right? What is he like around you?"

"He talks too much," Draco said and Ginny laughed while shaking her head.

"Come on, Draco, I'm serious."

"Are you asking me to ogle my male partner? Because honestly, Weasley, I don't swing that way. I might be a little squirrelly at times, but even a Malfoy needs to draw the line somewhere." He smirked.

"Are Weasleys on the other side of that line?" she asked.

"Naturally. Why would you ask, Weasley?" he teased, eyes heavy as he stared into her.

Ginny fought not to smile or blush, or do anything else that could be considered embarrassing or be misconstrued in some way.

Draco looked at her and did notice her blush ever so lightly.

He smiled at that and leaned his elbows on the table.

Ginny did not look up at him so he leaned over the table a bit.

Ginny still didn't look up.

He lifted his bum from his chair just a bit to lean completely across the table and then she finally looked up at him.

Her eyes gave away her surprise, but he was too close to see the rest of her reaction because he kissed her right then.

Ginny's eyes were wide for a moment after Draco's lips pressed against hers, but she then relaxed enough to lean into the kiss. He sat back down while she leaned forward, never breaking the simple kiss so that they were then sitting, equally leaning over the table to meet in the middle. Draco attempted to turn the kiss into something a little deeper by running his tongue along her bottom lip and Ginny then pulled away.

She took a shuddering breath, her eyes heavy lidded, but hands in the air and making a cutting motion in front of her chest.

"No, no, we can't do that," she managed to say, her breath stolen by the kiss.

"Why not?" Draco asked while reaching up to hold her hand, not caring if the Muggle businessmen looked over at him to see them kiss. It was their own problem if they didn't have anyone to snog with over lunch.

"Because I'm with Reamann, and you are Reamann's partner…this is not right."

"What if I was not Reamann's partner or you were not Reamann's girlfriend?" he asked.

"Reamann needs you."

"Does he need you?" Draco asked and Ginny closed her mouth with a snap.

"He loves me," she said after a moment.

"Do you love him?" he asked.

"That is not a fair question," she snapped a little indignant at his audacity.

"I can't imagine why not. It's fair-ly simple. Do you love Reamann?" he asked again.

"Yes," she said.

"Liar," Draco smiled, tapping the side of his nose with his finger and knowing how she truly felt. Ginny flushed in embarrassment but covered it with anger.

"So what, you want me to break things off with Reamann, a man I have been dating for three years, to be with you, someone I don't even know?" she asked in a huff.

"I got the impression you were only looking for an excuse at this point. I don't mind being used as an excuse," he said with a sly smile.

"I don't want to dump him."

"But you don't want to marry him," Draco pointed out.

"Is life so black and white that you have to be one or the other?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask your family?" Draco quipped and Ginny blinked at him before dropping her face into her hands.

"Oh God, you're right. I'm miserable, and trapped."

"Then dump him," Draco said simply with a shrug. "I am not in any way saying you should date me or anything at that point, but just dump him if you are not happy, it seems like the most simple and logical thing to do."

"I can't, I can't…it, it wouldn't be fair."

"Fair?" Draco inquired, this being the second time Ginny had used that word.

"Reamann didn't do anything wrong. In fact, he has been perfect."

"A man who's only crime is not that he loved none too wisely, but too well," Draco said in a mock decree, his voice lowered in a serious tone.

"Draco, you're terrible," Ginny said, kicking him under the table again, getting a smile out of Draco then, too. She appreciated that he could make her laugh, even when she didn't even feel like smiling.

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Author's Note:

I have never in my life had any desire to be a lump of peanut butter until this chapter. This is my Valentine's Day Update, I hope you liked!

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