Title: Stuck in the Middle with You

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one legged lesbian seagull hotmail com (Please add 3 underscores, one "at" sign, and a period)

A/N: Hello all! Well it is finally here, the sequel to 'Guilty by Association'. But to all you new comers, you don't have to read the first part to understand this one. In fact I ask you to read this one first, cause my writing has improved (or at least I hope it has improved) hopefully leaving the first in the dust. I am attempting to use a new style of writing where I can jump from person to person. Well I guess you will see. If it drives you terribly batty, then I'll have to figure out a way to make it better. So yes, I would just like to thank everyone who read and reviewed GBA, and I would like to dedicate this sequel to all of you. You know who you are...

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot! It's mine! Mine I say! Bwa Ha Ha Ha! Enough of that. On with...

Stuck in the Middle with You

Chapter 1

Yeah Toast!

o-o-o

Ginny Weasley lay awake staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Tonight was not the first time this month that she had had problems sleeping. Every single night so far she had awoke from vivid and disturbing dreams. More often then not they had been of battles. Horrible battles involving two sides, a dark side and a light side. Or at least light compared to the dark side, but not necessarily good if it stood on it's own. Some battles took place thousands of years in the past, while others took place in the future, in space. There had even been a battle of the bands with pounding rock music.

Ginny shook her head slightly. All the battles had one thing in common: they were all terribly real, as if they had already happened. 'They are more like memories than dreams,' she thought, then frowned at the idea. How could she have memories of battles in her head? Sure she had been in a few herself, being a former Auror and a field medic, but none of those had been anything like the ones in her dreams.

Tonight was no exception. The two armies had been battling in broad daylight on an endless field with wands. People were being cursed all around her, yet she wasn't really there. More of a spectator than anything else. Everything seemed to happen around her rather than with her. It had been terrible, and just when she thought she could take no more killing and brutality, the battle faded as it always did.

She had seen the woman again, back turned, standing tall and straight, with the heavy air of melancholy about her. She would stand on a cliff over looking some unknown expanse of dark forest beside a dead oak tree. She was always dressed in robes of deep blue trimmed with silver that were tossed and pulled about in a strong wind that caused the dead tree beside her to groan and creek. The woman's long silver hair tossed about with the wind obscuring her face.

Ginny always saw this woman, every night, after a battle. As far as she could remember, she had never seen her before, but somehow she had a feeling she knew her. Ginny would stand there, staring at her, until the wind picked up even more and she felt as though she would blow away. It was at this time that the woman would begin to scream, a high, mournful wail, tossed and twisted in the wind. Cruel laughter of an unknown source would soon join her wails and Ginny's head would feel like it was about to explode with the frequency. She would then awake with a start, and lie in bed, breathing heavily.

At first Ginny had thought the woman was a banshee or a creature like that. But after night after night of seeing her she realized she was human. 'Part veela perhaps or something like that,' she thought, staring up at the ceiling above her. It didn't make sense. Why was she dreaming of battles and that woman repeatedly?

Shuddering, Ginny turned from the ceiling and looked at the man next to her. She smiled slightly at Draco Malfoy's relaxed face and gently brushed some blond hair from it. They had been living together for the past five months. It had been ten months since he had returned from the United States. She felt a chill run down her spine at the thought of what happened in the two weeks prior to that.

'Don't think about it now,' she told herself. 'You'll just creep yourself out again.' She quickly shoved the memory further back in her mind, as she often did in the middle of the night in an attempt to save herself from insomnia.

'You died, there's no denying that,' a familiar little voice whispered.

'I know that,' she hissed back.

'Then why wont you think about it?' it asked casually.

'Because I actually want to get back to sleep tonight, thank you very much,' she thought even darker than before. Ginny had in fact died. Killed by Lucius Malfoy's knife, who was in turn killed by Draco's.

She had floated in limbo for an unknown amount of time, then just as she was about to cross over, she was pulled back. It was what she had thought in this time that had scared her most. She had wanted to cross over, to die. As she was pulled back, all she could think about was the light. While she had floated there she had thought about what she was leaving behind briefly, which for some people was a great accomplishment, but for her, it was a disappointment. She had rather died than return to the ones she loved and who loved her.

She had gotten over it though. Ginny was a strong woman, and she was a Weasley after all. After many sleepless nights, disturbing dreams and sudden outbursts of emotion ranging from anger to remorse she had gotten over it. She had come to terms with what had happened and moved on. She eventually realized that there was nothing she could do about it. She could not go back in time and change it. And even if she could, life was too good now.

'Perhaps that why you are having nightmares,' the voice suggested, not unkindly. 'You are still dealing with your death.'

'I got over it!' she screamed in her head. 'I-' she stopped suddenly. 'Why am I talking to you? This can't be sane, talking to little voices in my head.' She listened but the voice did not talk back. 'I am going insane,' she thought tiredly. 'That's it. Insane. The lack of proper sleep has finally gotten to me. I should go check myself into the asylum before Draco has to do it for me.'

She let out a tiny giggle at the thought of her padded Muggle room then crawled out of bed as quietly as she could so as not to wake Draco. 'I can't wake him up. One of us has to be able to function or neither of us will eat!' She thought back to her multiple attempts to make toast in the past few days and shuddered. She never knew food could go that black, or produce that much smoke for that matter.

Ginny slipped on her slippers and silk housecoat, remembering how Draco had come running into the kitchen wearing a towel. He had been taking a shower when she decided to sacrifice the bread to the toaster. Within ten minutes the whole house was filled with smoke, her coughing madly in an attempt to find her wand, but all she could find was her toothbrush.

Thinking back to it, he had taken it pretty well. He only swore a few times, removed the charred remains, magicked the smoke away then put in new bread. The fourth time this had happened he seemed a little agitated but still did not comment. 'Such a sweetie,' she thought and found, with a start, that she was downstairs in the living room. 'I have got to stop doing this,' she thought worriedly. This wasn't the first time she had gotten lost in thought and found herself somewhere different from where she had been before.

She sighed and looked around the room. It was large and cozy and she loved it. She loved the whole house in fact. It was a lot smaller the manor Draco had lived in for the first five months he was back in London. (He had inherited it with his father's death) It was also a lot bigger than the simple apartment she had lived in before. It was a light blue, two-story house on the outskirts of London. With a large backyard filled with trees and flowers she had grown herself. Hardwood floors throughout, with white walls and oak trim to finish the look.

The furniture was a mixture of her own and his from their old homes, some was from the manor but most of it was new. She sighed again and walked over to the elegantly crafted mantel of the fireplace, across which rested a dozen or so framed photographs. There were a few of him and her, some of her family and her brothers' families. A group photo of the Bureau and finally a picture of Draco's mother.

Looking at her, Ginny knew where Draco's good looks had come from. The woman was gorgeous. Tall and blond with lovely fair skin and stunning blue eyes. (She had assumed the gray in Draco's eyes came from his father.) Yet staring at the photo, Ginny could sense an air of depression about her. 'It must have been awful living with a man like Lucius,' she thought and felt a pang of sympathy for both Draco and his mother.

Over the past ten months, Draco had opened up and told her things about his childhood. Not huge conversations, she snorted at the thought of Drcao sitting her down and having a long, heartfelt talk about his past. Draco just wasn't like that. But he would answer her questions, just not . . . elaborate too much.

She thought back to the day they moved in and had begun placing the photos on the mantel. When he had placed the one of his mother on it, she had felt a small sense of recognition towards her. She latter realized that she had met the woman during the Quidditch World Cup back before her third year.

When she had asked him who it was he responded: "My Mother." Ginny remembered being slightly taken aback by his response. For some reason she had never given Draco's mother much thought. Just his father.

"Where is she?" she had asked.

"She's dead," he had said simply, moving a photo of Ron and Hermione aside to make room for one of him and her.

"How?" Ginny had asked before she could stop herself.

"Cancer," he said then turned and looked at her with his usual impassive face. "Three years ago."

And that had been the end of the conversation. She had never mentioned it again and neither had he. She starred blankly at the woman in the photo, wondering what she would have been like. Cold like her husband, mysterious like her son or a kind hearted soul like Ginny's own mother.

"Can't sleep again?" someone said from behind her. Startled, Ginny whirled around to see Draco in his boxers standing on the stairs staring at her. His hair was tousled from sleep and his posture showed that he was still tired, yet his blue-gray eyes were alert and wary.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked worriedly.

"I had to wake up in a few hours anyway," he said dismissively and walked over to her. "Was it the dreams again?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said and brushed the red hair from her eye. She had grown out the shorter bangs but now the longer ones decided to hang in her eyes. "It was another battle, this time on a large field, in the middle of the day. Everyone had wands and were hexing and cursing each other to death. And I saw her again."

Draco looked at Ginny, his eyes never leaving hers, his expression unreadable. 'Something's wrong,' he thought. As he looked at her he was startled to see how pale she was. Even in the moon light she looked paler that she should. The tracks under her eyes were so dark that it seemed as though she hadn't slept in weeks. 'Which she probably hasn't,' he realized. She had stopped waking him up, and now he had no idea how often she was awoken by the dreams.

And they were taking their toll. The first time she had burnt the toast it had been cute. The second a little odd. The third and fourth times he knew something was wrong. 'Ginny never slips up like that,' he thought, but it wasn't just the ritual toast burning. He was finding things in odd places. Milk in the oven, his laundry in the study, her wand sitting in the cup in place of her toothbrush, her toothbrush in her pocket in place of her wand.

He sighed. She looked so lost somehow. Like something was missing. Like these dreams had stolen something and she was yet to get it back. She was beginning to look a little worried at the fact that he wasn't saying anything and he smiled slightly.

"We'll go see someone in the morning about them, alright?" he said finally.

Her face lightened, making her look more alive. "You'll come with me?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course," he said, frowning slightly. 'Why would she think I wouldn't?' he wondered and pulled her into his arms, placing a kiss on her head. "Let's go back to bed. We can still get four hours of sleep before we have to get up."

"Alright," she sighed, leaning into him.

They made their way back to their bedroom in silence. Draco listened to the soft click-clack of her slippers and looked down at her as they made their way up the stairs. 'She looks so tired,' he thought again.

When they got to the top landing, Ginny stopped. Draco stopped as well and looked down at her quizzically. She looked straight ahead at the hall before them and he followed her gaze to find nothing out of the ordinary. 'She's not seeing things now, is she?' he thought with dread, not even wanting to think of what that would mean. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she spoke.

"Draco," she said softly, not looking up at him. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to look at him. 'Please don't take this the wrong way,' she silently prayed. 'Please don't. I love you too much.' "I think . . ." she started, still not looking at him. "I think I . . . I think I need to get out of the city," she said finally.

Silence.

"I need to clear my head. Get out of the routine I have gotten myself into. Maybe I can figure out these dreams if I do something different. Please don't be mad," she added quickly. She chanced a look up at him and took a double take. He was smiling down at her. She had expected anger, hurt, anything. But a smile?

"Why would I be mad?" he asked still smiling, giving her body a gentle squeeze. "A break can sometimes make a difference." Briefly he thought about his fifth year when his father had stopped contacting him for a month and he realized that he did not want to be a Death Eater. Something occurred to him and paused for a moment then said: "Aren't Pot-Harry and Dudley going to Paris tomorrow evening? Why don't you ask if you can take one of their places on the case. I don't see it being a big deal. And Paris is a lot different from London."

She looked up at him in disbelief. "You wouldn't . . . you wouldn't mind?" she asked doubtfully. He shook his head.

"This way I get that bed all to myself and I don't have to worry about being kicked off anymore." Ginny let out a giggle and hit him lightly on the arm.

"That only happened once," she scowled lightly. "And I said I was sorry."

"Sure you did," he drawled, pulling her towards the bedroom door. "Just like you are going to say "sorry" to me now."

"You're so sure of yourself, Mr. Malfoy," she giggled and allowed herself to be dragged into the bedroom, where she closed the door.

o-o-o

Harry Potter looked around the empty building of the Bureau. Ever since Ginny had moved in with Mal-Draco, he had been the one to arrive first. Much to his dislike. The old building that Ginny owned still gave him the creeps. It had ever since he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had begun working there four years ago. It seemed the best idea after losing their jobs as Aurors due to Joe Wallski, the former Head of the Aurors. No one took his bad vibes seriously so he was left to suffer silently while Samantha's howling wasn't helping any.

Samantha was the poltergeist who lived in the closet off the stairs. She had come with the building, being the reason Ginny had got it at such a low price.

Walking around the front desk and ignoring the large pile of mail for him that always covered it, Harry walked into the offices. Everything seemed in order and as he made his way down the aisle between the eight desks that were spread across the large room. As he approached the door opposite the one he had just entered through he glanced pointedly at the weapons closet. 'Still secure,' he thought, remembering the incident from 10 months ago.

The closet had a bewitched rune on the top of it that would glow red if a weapon was removed. Dudley Dursley was a Muggle so he used unique weaponry instead of magic. Weaponry kept locked tight in the closet. Last Christmas, one of Dudley's rifles had been removed and used in an attempt to kill Draco Malfoy.

Not wanting to think of how he had suspected his own cousin of being a mole for Voldemort, Harry opened the door to the stairs that lead to the roof. He turned to the left and opened Samantha's closet. The poltergeist stopped her noise and looked at him with a wide grin only to let it fall when she realized who he was.

"You're not Dudley," she said glumly.

"Nope," Harry said darkly. "Just plain old Harry. Now will you keep it down?"

"Fine," she huffed. "But when Dudley comes you'll send him over, right?"

"Of course," Harry said honestly, though he knew Dudley wouldn't come within three meters of this door. 'Anything to get her to shut up,' he thought as he closed her door.

"She didn't see me, did she?" someone asked him as he closed the door to the stairs behind him. Harry let out a gasp of surprise and began reaching for his wand until he realized his cousin, Dudley Dursley, was towering over him to the left of the door. "Cause I don't think I can take another day of her constant howling."

"Do you always have to do that!" Harry snapped, clutching his heart. "Every bloody morning!" Ever since Dudley had been kicked out of the England Secret Service three years ago, he had been working with Harry and the others as independent investigators.

He had changed a lot from the child Harry had known. He had come down to earth and actually treated people with respect. He had also slimed down more than Harry had ever thought possible, but perhaps that was because his cousin had grown an extra two feet from his former, whale-like self. He glared up at the man who was looking down at him through his bleached blond hair, streaked with blue.

"If I do it "every bloody morning" then why aren't you used to it yet?" Dudley asked casually, looking coolly down at his shorter cousin.

Sneaking up on people and travelling silently amongst them was one thing that he was really good at, despite his towering height of 6'11, which was a source of great amusement to him. He was tall and people still didn't notice him.

This was one of the reasons he thought he would make a good agent, though they had thought otherwise. 'Unorthodox my ass,' he thought darkly, remembering what they had said about his actions. Not that it really mattered anymore. He had liked this job a hell of a lot better, even if it did go against the views his dead parents had drilled into him while they were living.

"Do you always wear that shirt?" Harry asked instead of answering.

Dudley looked down at his Rolling Stones shirt under his ankle length leather jacket. "I have more than one of them," he said simply. Harry looked skeptical. "Alright. I'll wear a different one tomorrow if that's what you want. I think I still have that Korn shirt I got for my birthday."

Harry shook his head and sighed at his cousin. "What ever makes you happy Dudley," he said. "Are you all ready for the trip tomorrow?"

"Yup," he responded. "I contacted Frances. He's got positions for us and has already lined up our hotel rooms and stuff. Should be no problem."

"Good," said Harry. He wasn't exactly looking forward to this trip. And it wasn't the fact that he would be working along side his cousin. Or that he would be working as a Muggle. Or the fact that the case they were working on involved some psychopath wizard. He just didn't want to go.

He sighed and looked down at his watch. 9:30. They were late. He was going to have to talk to Ginny soon. Every month they became fifteen minutes latter. He didn't dare think what time they would show up at in a few years. 'Probably not at all.'

With Ron and Hermione on leave with their new baby girl, Tiana, and Remus and Sirius being, well, Remus and Sirius, Harry found the Bureau quite short handed. And with him and Dudley leaving tomorrow, Ginny and Draco would be left in charge. He shuddered slightly at the thought. Not that he didn't trust them. It was just that-

The sound of someone Apparating caused Harry to stop him musings and turn, expecting to see the objects of his thoughts. Instead he found two middle aged wizards by the names of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black standing in the center of the office.

"Morning Harry. Dudley," Remus said walking over to them and shaking their hands pleasantly.

"Nice of you to grace us with your presence," Harry said sarcastically. The two of them had been off gallivanting about for so long, searching for this or hunting for that, that Harry suspected only they knew what they had all done. Needless to say, they didn't come back to the Bureau very often. Everything they needed was sent via owl and vice versa. He watched as Remus walked over to his desk and clucked his tongue at the large pile of parchment in the in-pile. Sirius ignored the pigsty he considered a desk and walked over to Harry.

"Oh give them a break, Harry," Dudley said from his seat before his own semi-neat desk. "They're free spirits. You can't chain them to a desk." 'I bet I know someone who could," Harry thought with a grin. Hermione had bitched the two of them out more than once for their long absences. Regardless that Remus was a former professor of hers.

"That's right Harry," Sirius said, giving him a hug of greeting, which he returned. "Free spirits."

"Whatever," Harry said with a laugh. He went and sat down while the other two did the same. "So what have you two been up too? We've been getting the owls and paperwork, but why were you gone for three months?"

"Well it seems that Canada has a lot of demons," Remus said as he started to go through his paperwork.

"And a lot of women," Sirius said with a wink, rolling the parchment from his desk into balls and tossing them about. Much like Harry himself did.

"So you're telling us that you spent three months in Canada hunting demons and chasing women?" Dudley asked with a bemused smile.

"Mm-hmm," Remus said, not looking up from the parchment he had begun to scratch at with a quill.

"Why am I not surprised," Harry said with a laugh. Ever since Sirius' name had been cleared in Harry's seventh year, the two of them had begun to act more and more like the men he had heard stories about back at Hogwarts. Carefree, mischievous and genuine playboys. Not that he minded. He was glad that his godfather was happy. It made Harry happy.

"Hello?" someone called from the lobby.

"Clients? Already?" Remus asked.

"Well it is almost ten o'clock," Harry sighed, glancing down at his watch. "We open at nine," he grumbled and got up. Sirius joined him.

"So where's that cute red head and her Malfoy friend?" Sirius asked as they made their way towards the lobby door. Harry glanced at him and smiled. He looked so much younger from when he had first met him. He was well fed and well groomed, with color back in his skin. The only thing that had not changed completely was the haunted look that still remained in his eyes. Harry had a feeling that would never go away.

"I suspect they are "sleeping" in," he said with a grin.

"I see," Sirius said, returning the grin but stopped short when they entered the lobby.

A woman with chin length blond hair was standing in the center looking nervous. She was dressed in blue fall robes and was clutching a small black purse that matched her black leather boots. When she saw them, her face lit up into a lovely smile. 'Beautiful,' Sirius thought to himself and approached her with a smile of his own.

"Hi," he said, offering his hand.

"Hello," she responded, taking it.

"I'm Sirius Black," he said pleasantly. Her eyes seemed to widen as she recognized the name, but she seemed polite enough not to say anything as some people did.

"Amy Carden," she responded, shaking his hand firmly. She then turned expectantly to Harry.

"Harry Potter," he said, offering his own hand.

"Harry Potter?" she asked in surprise. "I had heard that you worked here, but I never thought-" she gave a little laugh and shook his hand as well.

"Yes," Sirius said, noticing the annoyance playing across his godson's face. "Sadly Harry is going out of town on a case tomorrow, but I will be more than able to help you. That is why you are here is it not?

"Oh yes," she said, turning her attention back to Sirius with a dazzling smile. "I just bought this old mansion on a hill out in the Sherwood Forest by the Suburban Lake."

'Why would she want to buy a house there?' Sirius thought remembering the horror stories he had heard as a kid. The lake wasn't as pleasant as it sounded. Many families had gone down there in the beginning of the century and used the place as a camp ground, though many of them never returned again. It was rumored that there was something in the lake, or in the forest around it, though no one knew for sure.

"Well it turns out that there is a large nest of banshees living there," she continued, unaware of Sirius' skeptical thoughts. "That's why it was so cheap." 'That and the location,' he thought. "And we have to get them out of there before we can get the place ready for the children."

"Children?" he asked. 'Why would you bring children to a place like that?'

"Oh yes. I, along with my friend, am going to open a school for Gifted Yet Disturbed Youngsters. The mansion is the perfect place. Except for the banshees that is," she said.

'A school for Gifted Yet Disturbed Youngsters in a mansion infested with Banshees located in the Sherwood Forest by the Suburban Lake. Something about that just doesn't sound right.' He turned and saw that Harry seemed to be thinking along those same lines.

It was at this moment that Ginny stuck her head into the lobby. "Morning Sirius," she said cheerfully then turned her attention to Harry. "I need to speak to you Harry," she said and he nodded, seeming all too happy to have an excuse to leave in Sirius' opinion.

"Send Remus out here, will ya?" he asked them as they left through the door back to offices.

"Remus," he heard Ginny call as the door swung shut.

A few moments latter Remus appeared it the doorway and walked over to the two of them. He was wearing his usual "client" smile and his no-longer-shabby robes. Sirius turned back to the blond woman.

"This is my partner, Remus Lupin," he told her. She shook his outstretched hand. "Remus, I think we got ourselves a new case."

Meanwhile, back in the offices, Harry was watching Ginny pace before him. She had sat both him and Dudley down and had begun to explain the dreams she had been having for the past few months, and the fact that they were getting worse. 'So that's why she's been so out of character lately,' Harry thought to himself. He was used to Ginny's volatile temper but the past few weeks had been ridiculous. If he sneezed she was likely to explode.

He glanced over to Draco's desk to see him sitting in his chair, arms crossed, watching Ginny's attempt to wear a hole through the floor. 'I wonder if she blows up at him too,' he thought idly. As usual, the man had his impassive mask on and he wondered briefly as to what he was thinking. After a moment he turned his attention back to Ginny who had stopped her pacing.

"So when did your dreams start?" Dudley asked from his desk. Ginny seemed to think about this for a moment.

"About five weeks ago," she said. "I had them before, every now and then, but five weeks ago was when they became chronic."

"Wasn't Tiana born five weeks ago?" Harry asked after a moments calculation. Ginny seemed to be struck by this, as though she had never though of it.

"Wonder if there's a connection," Draco said quietly, the first sentence he had uttered since his arrival.

"What would it mean if there is?" she asked them, looking around at the three of them.

"It could mean nothing," Dudley said. "Anxiety perhaps or maybe it's just stress. You have had double the work load since they had that kid."

Ginny nodded her head. "Perhaps," she said and seemed to go back to thinking. "But I am a witch . . ."

Harry, now curious as to why she brought this up said: "So why did you sit us both down to tell us? Is there some way we can help you?"

"Actually, Harry, I think there is," she said, looking at him from her spot beside Draco's desk. "You know how you are going to Paris tomorrow?" Harry nodded. "Well I want to take your place."

"What?" Harry gasped, sitting up in his chair. "Gin, it's dangerous. That wizard-"

"So?" she interrupted him, crossing her arms. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. I'm not in my first year anymore, Harry."

Harry looked from her stubborn face to her boyfriend's impassive one. He looked at him in disbelief and Draco simply raised his right eyebrow. "You're ok with this?" he asked incredulously.

Draco simply nodded his head. "I trust her judgment," he said then looked at the red haired woman. 'If this trip can stop her from setting the house on fire, then I'll let her go for as long as she wants,' he thought with a slight smirk in her direction. She seemed to read his thoughts and smiled back. "Besides. She won't be alone. Dudley will be with her."

"Right," Dudley said, straightening up in his chair importantly. "And I'll take care of her like she was my own sister."

"Dudley!" Ginny said, looking at him with an annoyed look. Dudley simply smiled back at her. Rolling her eyes she turned them back to Harry. "Please?" she asked, putting on her best puppy-dog eyes.

Harry saw these but continued to think. 'You really don't want to go. She obviously does. And Dudley will be there. She'll be safe." For a fleeting moment he thought of Ron and his over-protectiveness towards his sister's safety. He mentally grinned at all his attempts to get her away from Mal-Draco.

"Ok," he said finally with a large sigh. "Fine. But Dudley, you better watch her like a hawk."

"Oh course," his cousin said with a large smile. 'No doubt happy to spend time with her,' Harry thought at the smile. The two of them had become very good friends since the 'mole' incident. But everything was always so busy lately.

Harry's thoughts were cut off by Ginny giving him a hug.

"Thank you," she said happily. He looked up into her eyes and nearly gasped. She looked so tired. 'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," he started think but was cut off by the lobby door opening. They all turned to see Remus and Sirius entering, large grins on their faces.

"Well we're off," Remus said cheerfully.

"What?" Ginny gasped. "Already? But you just got back!"

"Yup," Sirius said. "And we already got ourselves a case. Crazy, eh?"

"The Banshee woman?" Harry asked, ignoring the looks he got from Draco, Dudley and Ginny.

"Mm-hmm," Remus said, pulling out his wand.

"Don't get into too much trouble, Harry," Sirius said pulling out his own wand. "We'll be around." And with that they both Disapparated.

The four occupants left in the room remained silent, staring at the place the two men had been before. All having their own thoughts of the two of them running through their heads.

Dudley was the first to break the silence by clearing his throat. They all turned to look at him.

"Ginny, if you're coming with me we have to get your passport in order," he said, rising to his feet.

"Ok," she said, walking over to Draco and giving him a quick kiss. "I'll see you latter," she said softly then turned and walked out of the office with Dudley.

Draco watched her leave with a smirk. Dudley was a foot taller than Ginny and it made her look almost child like. He turned his attention to the last occupant of the room after the door had swung shut. He could feel his dislike towards him rise.

No matter how hard he tried, Draco just couldn't bring himself to like Harry. He knew the other man had the same feelings directed towards him but neither of them would admit it for it would upset Ginny. The friendliness that they had had towards each other when Draco first started to work at the Bureau had worn off within the first two months. If it weren't for Ginny, Draco was sure he would have left by now. Perhaps back to New York, perhaps somewhere else. Now they pretended to get along when she was around, secretly loathing every minute of it.

Draco grinned at the realization that with Ginny gone he didn't have to pretend anymore. 'No more playing nice,' he thought, idly wondering which hex he should use first.

"What are you smirking at?" Harry demanded irritably from across the office.

"Nothing," Draco sneered. 'That felt good,' he thought, knowing full well that Ginny would kill him if she heard.

They remained silent for a few moments, glaring at each other, as if daring the other to take out his wand.

"You know what this means?" Harry asked, breaking their silence.

"That you no longer have someone to hide behind?" Draco offered, smirking.

"No," Harry said icily. "That we are the only ones working here until they get back."

"Oh," Draco said. He hadn't really thought of it that way. He suddenly got the notion that he might not be able to hold onto his sanity if Ginny and Dudley were away for a long time.

An explosion from the lobby caused both men to turn their heads sharply in that direction with surprise. Draco pulled out his wand and stood up, seeing Harry doing the same thing. At the door they paused.

"Five Galleons says it's Seamus," Harry said, looking at Draco with a slight grin. Seamus Finnigan had an unfortunate habit of blowing things up. Especially when he Apparated or got extremely irritated or angry.

"It's obvious it's him," Draco grumbled then opened the door. The ugly plant's pot at the foot of the couch seemed to have exploded all over the room. The plant itself seemed alright, only a little rumpled. In the middle of it was a very guilty looking Seamus Finnigan, dressed in his usual crimson cloak.

"Pay up," Harry hissed. Grumbling further, Draco grabbed five gold coins from his pocket and thrust them violently at he black haired man. "Thank you," he said arrogantly and Draco sent him a dark look.

"Uh . . . sorry about the plant," Seamus said, waving his wand so all the dirt and bits of ceramic flew back together. The ugly plant lived once more.

"You shouldn't have done that," Draco said quietly, his eyes never leaving the plant.

"Huh? Why not?" Seamus asked worriedly, looking at the plant as though it would suddenly come alive, put on boxing gloves and beat the crap out of him.

"Because it's the ugliest bloody thing any of us have ever seen," Harry said, glaring angrily at the plant.

"So why don't you just throw it out?" Seamus asked. All three of them were now looking at the ugly plant. Two of whom were hoping it would spontaneously combust and burn to a pile of ash.

"Because it was a gift from Ginny's mother," Draco said, finally looking away from the plant.

"Oh. Well I suppose I could Disapparate then Apparate back. Maybe I can get it again?" he asked hopefully.

"Don't bother," Harry said, turning away from the plant as well. "I think we will just "accidentally" forget to water it while everyone's away. Malfoy and I are very irresponsible people you see."

"I see," Seamus said slowly. "What do you mean "while everyone's away"?"

"Well Ron and Hermione are taking care of Tiana at home. Remus and Sirius just got a new case somewhere in the Sherwood Forest and Ginny and Dudley are off to Paris tomorrow on a new case," Harry explained.

"So it's just the two of you?" Seamus said with a smirk. 'I wonder how long they will last before they start cursing one another?' he mused. He knew exactly how much the two hated each other. Both, on various occasions, had held him in conversation about it for a very long time.

"Seems that way," Draco drawled. "But I take it you are not here to blow up plants and talk about Potter and I being the only ones here, are you?"

"No," said Seamus, suddenly going very somber and serious. "Do you know anything about the rash of kidnappings that have been happening across the city and surrounding areas?" Seamus asked, looking at them hopefully.

"I just know what I read in the Daily Prophet this morning. It's been only children, right?" Harry said after a moment's thought.

"Children?" Draco asked staring at the two of them.

"Yes, children, Malfoy," Harry sneered. "You know, miniature versions of the parents? About half your size," he paused. "Well perhaps larger in certain respects when it comes to the boys."

"Yes, Potter," Draco hissed. "I know what children are. I just didn't know there were any missing."

"It was in the Daily Prophet the morning, Malfoy," Harry hissed back. "Or can't you read?"

"I can read," he snarled. "I just didn't have time this morning to read the paper."

"Even though you were an hour and a half late?" he snarled back. Harry repressed a grin. He had a feeling he knew exactly why the two of them were late.

"Uh," Seamus began, looking nervously between the two men who had yet to break eye contact. "Twelve of them have been kidnapped so far. All in the middle of the night."

"How do you know they are connected?" Draco asked, not looking away from Harry's eyes.

"Well," Seamus said, still eyeing them. "Oh, will you two stop it already! This is ridiculous! You're acting like five-year-olds!" At this the two men turned away from each other and looked expectantly at Seamus.

"Well?" Draco drawled after a moment's silence.

"Well what?" Seamus asked confused.

"You were about to tell us about how the kidnappings are connected," Harry offered.

"Oh," Seamus said, feeling his face growing hot. The two of them were standing there, arms crossed, staring at him with the same expression. 'They look so much alike in an odd, creepy sort of way,' he thought then attempted again. "In the room of each missing child we have discovered the same methods of entrance. The windows are burned opened with a high concentration of hydrofluoric acid to reach the lock which is then closed after the perpetrators leave."

"So?" Draco said. "Any idiot can do that. Doesn't mean they are related."

"True," said Seamus, beginning to pace before them. "But every time it is in the same shape. A key hole shape. We don't know why, but it's always the same."

"Must want the Ministry to know that they are the same," Harry said, thinking about it. "Are there any other similarities?"

"Tons," Seamus said. "For one, all the children have been between the ages of five and ten. Both parents have been witch or wizard, but not purebloods. All of the children attended some form of preschool, but who doesn't these days? Anyway, one of the biggest one is that three kidnappings happen at roughly the same time."

"So there's at least three people involved," Draco deduced.

"Right," Seamus agreed, finally stopping his pacing. "But there doesn't seem to be a pattern as to when it happens. The first was one week ago then there was another two days latter. The last two happened right after the other. Last night and the night before."

"So what do you want us to do?" Harry asked, glancing now at Draco who had seated himself on the couch.

Ever since Seamus had brought the reinforcements that had saved their lives nearly a year ago, he was willing to help him without question. And him being the new and youngest ever head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement he often showed up in look of a little help here and there.

"Actually," Seamus began sheepishly, "I was hopping Hermione would be here. She's always good at deciphering symbols and stuff like that. I thought that she might be able to help us with the keyhole thing."

Harry could feel Malfoy's smirk burning into him. He ignored it.

"But you could keep an ear out for me," Seamus offered. "So far there have been no leads, just similarities. And I have already talked to Neville, he doesn't know anything either." Neville, the Ministry's resident gossip was usually the best source for information. But there was the odd occasion when even he didn't know. When this happens, you know you are in deep.

"Alright," Harry said a little sulkily. "The first thing we hear, we'll come straight to you."

"That's all I ask."

o-o-o

Late that evening a child's cries sliced through the night. Ron Weasley was used to this by now. For the past six weeks, his daughter, Tiana had yet to sleep soundly through the night. It was making him worried but Ginny and countless other doctors assured him that it was normal.

But then Ron was a little over protective of his daughter, and for good reason. Voldemort had already tried to corrupt her to evil a while after she had been conceived. Tiana was a prophecy child. Prophesied to have powers the likes of which the world has never seen and to bring about a new age in magic.

"Your turn," Hermione mumbled to her husband, her head smashed into a large feather pillow.

"You sure?" Ron asked, glancing over at her, thoughts temporarily forgotten. "I could have sworn that I went last time." He vaguely remembered changing a diaper.

"No, no," his wife said groggily. "That was four hours ago. I just went and gave her back her soother."

"Oh. Right," Ron said rolling out of bed half heartily and walked out of the bedroom. As he entered his daughters room he saw the untidy state of the room. Stuffed animals everywhere, clothes tossed onto a chair and a pile of blankets sitting haphazardly on the rocking chair. Sighing in mental disgust at himself, Ron took his wand and magicked everything back in order. It was his job this week after all.

He then walked over to the crib and looked down at his daughter. 'It's hard to believe that she is anything more than simply my child,' he thought. He still wasn't so sure about this prophecy thing. Sure, she had been conceived when there was an unusual amount of snow, as was prophesied, and Voldemort seemed to think she was special. But as of yet she had not shown any extra ordinary powers.

"Wait until she is older, then they will shine through," Alubus Dumbledore had told him after he had brought this fact up.

Tiana had stopped crying, but instead was looking up at him with large blue eyes, sniffling. He smiled down at her then scooped her into his arms. He felt happiness spread through him. He still couldn't believe that he had a part in creating this. Creating a life. Tiana gave a rather loud sniffle that warned that she would burst into tears once more. He knew what this meant.

"Alright, alright," he told her softly. "Let's go see your mum." And with that he headed back into the hall and back to the master bedroom.

"Ron?" Hermione asked as she saw Ron return a few minutes latter with a sniffling child in his arms. "What are you doing?"

"Tiana decided she's hungry," Ron said giving the child to her mother. "And what's the point of all three of us getting up?"

"I suppose you're right," she sighed, settling the child on her breast where she immediately began to feed. Ron climbed back into bed and wrapped his arms around them both.

"She's beautiful, just like her mum," he said, stroking the child's auburn hair. Hermione blushed slightly, looking down at her child.

"But she has her dad's eyes." She looked into her husband's blue eyes, identical to her daughters.

"I have a feeling she is going to give us more problems latter on than simply keeping up awake all night," Ron said after a moment of looking thoughtfully at the baby.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, stifling a yawn.

"I mean, I have this feeling that she is going to be just like the twins but with her mother's brains."

"And her father's temper," Hermione added with a grin.

"Probably," Ron said with a soft laugh, too tired to take offence.

Hermione closed her eyes, feeling safe and warm in her husband's arms. Thinking about it, she wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here, in this life. There were so many other paths she could have taken after Hogwarts, so many different careers. Being an Auror was the best thing because it kept her beside her husband and her best friend, Harry Potter. And no matter how she thought about it, everyone who worked at the Bureau now, was her family. And she wouldn't trade it for the world.

Hermione opened her eyes to discover both her daughter and husband had fallen asleep. She smiled softly. 'I wouldn't trade this for the world.' she thought before falling asleep herself.

At the same time the Weasley family was drifting off to sleep, two people were having a philosophical discussion ebbed on by the effects of too much alcohol and sugar. Or at least one was talking while the other was listening.

"I am so god damn bored," Spark said, grabbing another cookie from the train as it passed by before him.

"Still?" Yak asked in a dull voice. He was feeling rather sleepy and wasn't too keen on hearing another speech on the hell-hole that is Earth.

"This life is so dull," Spark began to elaborate, not noticing his friend's unenthusiastic voice. "Nothing exciting ever happens. You know how when you're a kid, everything seems so big and cheerful? Then you grow up and you realize that the world ain't as big as you thought? That people aren't so nice?"

"Life's a bitch," Yak replied in the same voice as before. He placed a few more cookies on the train as it passed by him once more, then took a cooler from the back car. This was a tradition that he and his friend had shared since they first became friends back in their second year of school. Ever since he had been putting up with the other man's odd sense of humor and reality. "So?" he finally asked.

"People have anterior motives," the other continued as if he hadn't heard the pessimistic comment. "You don't see that as a kid. I see that now. Everywhere I look. People with anterior motives to get on top."

"Like you?" Yak asked, glancing up from his bottle.

"Yes. No. We're not talking about me are we?" Yak shrugged. Spark frowned in a half drunk haze. "What was I saying?"

"How the world ain't so big and that everyone has anterior motives."

"Ah, yes," Spark said, frowning harder. "There is no fantasy in this world." Yak opened his mouth to speak, but Spark continued before he could say anything. "Oh yes, there's magic old friend. We can be sure of that. But there are no happy endings. No simple adventures. No fate. No nothing."

"You're too cynical," Yak said with a yawn. "Life's not that bad."

"Am I really?" Spark replied, narrowing his eyes. "Then where's your happy ending? Where's mine?"

"We're working on it, remember?" Yak asked, silently wondering if he should remove the rest of the alcohol from the train that was happily moving along it's small track.

"How can I forget?" his friend asked. "I can not sleep at night for all I think is about it. When I finally do sleep, I dream about it. When I awake it's the first thing on my mind."

"That's creepy man," Yak said truthfully, a little more surprise in his voice than usual at a proclamation like that. Most likely the effects of the alcohol.

"I know," he said miserably. "Now all I need is the girl of my dreams and perhaps I can find my happy ending."

"You're hopeless," Yak sighed. "All that and all you can think about is women."

"Shut up," his friend said in his not so mean manner he usually used to insult him.

"Make me," Yak responded, in a similar voice.

o-o-o

A/N: Ok. Yes, yes I know. It was dull dull dull. But I had to get this part out of the way before I could introduce my new (and hopefully exciting) plot lines. Can you guess how many there will be? I'll give you a gold star... Ehem. Sorry. So yes, I don't know when the next chapter will come out. I pretty much know what will happen this time, unlike the first one, so it is just a matter of sitting my ass down and writing. Pretty hard to do if you ask me! Oh well! Hope you enjoyed it! Reviews would make me smile!

o-o-o

May 17, 2005

Well, just so you know, this story is dead. Very dead. Never to be revived. Sorry if I led you on. Not that I can understand why you would want me to continue this, since to me it is vomit inducing. If you really want to know what was supposed to happen you can e-mail me and I will be more than happy to tell you. :p

Tiny Q