Chapter Four - horray! I've been on holiday twice :D! so this has been deserted for a while. That and I'm really bad at applying myself to something. I don't particularly like this chapter but I'd like your opinions on it - improvements, good points etc - all the same. Unbetaed version, so be gentle.

Bitch.

Draco swung around in his chair moodily. She'd heard him, he knew it. He had yelled it, somewhat foolishly, loud enough that he caught the attention of passers by.

But now he was here, home, where he had started earlier on in the afternoon, watching the last of the sun's light disappear behind a row of willow trees. The clouds had suffocated the day into a premature night, and Draco stared out of the window into a sky that matched his mood. The mess his mind was in before seemed to have expanded even more.

He spun himself around in the chair again.

This Thursday? The day after tomorrow?

Thursday…

Bloody hell… what was he going to do? He had less than a day as far as Weasley was concerned, but did he really want to trust someone who was forced into passing on information like that? Did she even hold enough rank – or whatever they had in the Ministry – to see that kind of information?

A nasty voice in the back of his mind told him exactly the same could be applied to Aine.

It's not going to happen before this time in two weeks.

But what did he have to lose? He was a dead man whichever way he looked at it.

Ginny felt marginally better. That twisting sensation in her chest had gone, and the further she walked down the high street, the less and less she could remember of his indignant face, and the more she could congratulate herself on taking the higher ground and ignoring the prat's idle threats. It was over. She was free from the week she wanted so badly to forget. Nothing but a Friday and the weekend ahead of her, perhaps even she'd call in on her parents.

She sighed, and fished out some sickles from her pockets. One last look at that school on the hill, one last smile, and she walked into the post office in search of a Floo.

As soon as she entered the office back at the ministry, she knew something was wrong. Andrew was sitting pensively in his chair, watching her shrewdly as she rushed through the door. No Apparation jokes, no comments about being late or just the general red hair mockery taking. Nothing.

Ginny wiped the smile off her face, and hastily put her desk between herself and her boss.

"What's up, Andy?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't sound as reedy as she heard.

"Who was that man?"

There was no point really pretending she didn't know what he was talking about. Feigning innocence would just make things worse. He didn't get to the head of department by sitting on his cushioned chair, reading Russian literature and eating chocolates. He was an old field officer, one of the Auror's to be trained up for the last war, only to find it abruptly ending, and had transferred – with greatly described reluctance – to one of the many blossoming offices that emerged with peace…

"An old school friend," she replied, deviating quite dramatically from the truth. "We bumped into each other outside the pub. Did you get what you want from the Hog then-"

"You two didn't seem very friendly," he interrupted quietly, calmly stating his position. "Who are they? I think I recognise him."

Oh Merlin

"Really?"

Andrew leaned back in his chair. She wished he would stop watching her. For once all she wanted to do was get her head down and do some paper work. Finally he spoke. "Yes. But I don't know where from. What's his name?"

His name?

"Bob."

"Bob?"

"Yeah," she said slowly, wondering if she could have picked a worse name. "Robert really, but everyone calls him Bob."

The shadow of a frown was forming. "Bob who?"

Ginny's eyes wandered down onto the desk. "Bob Wood."

A pause as he regarded her carefully. Ginny could almost taste the questions that were in his mouth, the questions that she would have been asking herself. But he kept quite and changed the subject, returning to something of his normal self. It was disconcerting to say the least, and when Ginny got home that evening she sat on the sofa, staring blankly into the fire, thinking quietly.

A week had barely passed in her life had been morphed into something uncontrollable. She felt like a piece of laundry that had had been washed, wrangled and hung up on a washing line inside out. The heavy rest of the debt in her chest had gone, only to be replaced with something much worse; the fluttering of guilt. Ginny rearranged her position on her chair, and watched the dying embers as she had done for the past hour or so.

It's August, she kept thinking, I shouldn't need a fire. I should be putting some extra time in an HQ… Merlin knows Mum could use all the help she can get after all these years.

All this to avoid the fact she'd lied to her boss, knowingly and willingly let a particularly nasty piece of Deatheater work off the hook, endangered the lives of hundreds of people, jeopardised her position in the Ministry for the Order…

Ginny felt like she was going to be sick.

Andrew liked Ginny. Not in that way – well perhaps – but she made a change from the rest of the miserable, arrogant or downright stupid that the great halls of the Ministry was filled with. She was funny and smart, and while obviously the job she had wasn't her dream one, she seemed to get her head down and get on with it pretty well. He was glad she was on his team, with him on the occasional times they went out into the field (a term he had never ridded himself of due to mingling too much with drunken Aurors out of work) she had often been the one to stop trouble before he had ever even considered its existence.

Ginny had laughed when he mentioned he used to be one, an Auror, a long time ago. It had been just before the Ministry had even rejected claims of Voldemort's return. Ironically, he'd just gotten bored of that life, and wanted to find something different to do with himself. Drifting from one department to another, the Ministry, loathe to let an Auror go completely, demanded he filled out his five year contract one way or another. And so he had found himself in this department, assistant – of sorts – to an evil old woman who had no intention of considering a man more than half her age to be her equal. But luckily, she retired shortly before Andrew's plans of killing her with her own fairy cakes (which Andrew never got even the faintest whiff of unless they were in company) were complete.

So Andrew found himself in charge of a sub-department, and after years of orders from Auror officers and Ms Bagshaw, it was somewhat of a head rush.

He stayed on after his contract had finished, and barely a year after that, Ginny Weasley arrived in his doorway.

From the very first day, he knew something was off with it. Official reason cited that she'd been given a job here because the department was 'chronically undermanned'. Bollocks. Andrew barely had enough to do on his own all day, let alone with someone like Ginny Weasley.

Maybe it was her constant questions for crosswords – which he despises – or some of his old Auror spirit rattling at the prospect of actually doing some good instead of extending the paper trail, but they started to branch out. Investigate. Just get out of the office and chase up some of the petty criminals that no one had the time, inclination or resources to follow.

Luckily the department name was ambiguous to get them anywhere. Especially with the shiny ID clips they'd been given.

And it was on these trips that he knew, almost at once, that she was an Auror in office clothing. With his own experience of Auror life and characteristics, he treated her with a little more trust than perhaps he would have done.

He knew she wasn't always honest about things; reports were sometimes late, he got a bit of cheek now and then. But they were small things, and she had demonstrated over and over again just how strong her integrity was.

Which was why, he was so utterly and completely riddled with suspicion when they had last spoken. She was lying, he knew it, and it was something big. Something huge.

Something, one way or another, to do with that man in Hogsmeade.

Andrew had got a good look at him – pale face with matching blond hair, dark expensive robes, and a somewhat pointed face that simply added to his arrogant expression. But that had only been the first sight of him; as soon as he and Ginny had spoken all of that arrogance had vanished, replaced with anger and fear. Like a trapped animal.

And for some reason, this had lead him to let himself into an old friend's office to have an inter-departmental meeting.

"More coffee, Andy?" Dan asked good humouredly, indicating subtly to a hidden bottle of whiskey.

"Nah, I'm alright thanks," he replied, grinning and picking up a biscuit from the plate on the desk. "I trust these are from the bottom of the pile."

"Of course. Some things never change."

They talked idly for a minute or two – Andy and Dan had worked together in a past life, and usually met up in this fashion; talking business while actually consuming alcohol and confectionary items. Eventually, he gathered his nerve and asked his question.

"I was just wondering if I could ask you a question."

Dan leaned back in his chair. His smile hadn't disappeared, but simply widened. "Fire away."

"Ok, well you know a lot of people, right?"

Andrew was sure his face would never return to its normal shape after all the smiling this man was doing. "I like to think so. Name?"

"Weasley."

At this point he actually laughed. "Which one? And I'm sure everyone knows one of them."

Despite his attempts to be seriously, Andy felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Ginny Weasley, I hear she applied to the Auror department a year or two ago."

In the various quests he and Ginny had done over the last few months, Andrew had been here, asking for information on people. Dan would always rant about how his power was not to be abused, before routing through his records and misplaced some files temporarily. But now he just sat back pensively in his chair and nodded a few times.

"We don't have any information on her, Andy."

"But she applied-"

"I know," came the quick interruption as he lent forward, his voice quite hushed. Andy wasn't sure what the softness was needed for. "I remember her; I always make a point of following the progress of the better wet fishes. You know I do."

Andy nodded rapidly.

"Well. This Weasley was pretty good; they all are to be honest. Something to do with growing up with a houseful of brothers and being at school with Potter may have had a hand in making her perfect material. She took her prelim exams, passed with ease and was all set to go into full training…"

"….but?"

"Her application was vetoed."

"By who?"

Dan stared at him blankly for a moment. "A close family of men, all with connections in the Ministry, personal friends with Harry Potter and several other important people? It was a wonder she was allowed to get her hands on the application forms."

"So she was bumped off to another department," Andy mused aloud. "To somewhere harmless and safe."

Dan's expression turned painful. "Yeah. I think that might be it."

Maybe that's why she had launched into their little excursions a little too happily. But Andrew didn't care about that, not really. What he had really wanted was the file, with all the other pieces of seemingly random information that came with standard Auror profiles. He'd seen past partners on these things before, and this was his strongest suspicion of who this man was. That had to be the reason she was so elusive with the name, so stringent with information.

That's what he hoped; for both his and hers sake.

Andrew rubbed his face. It had been a long day – his department might be unnecessary, but it certainly created a lot of paperwork when no one was in the office all day, especially when he had let Ginny go early.

"What's going on then Andy?"

He gave Dan the best smile he could with a head full of sudden, deflating tiredness. "It's a long story. And probably nothing."

"They're always the best. And here I was thinking you enjoyed my company. Now bugger off out of my office – I have many important things to do and I'm much to busy to see you."

"Sure, sure you are," Andy mumbled, getting to his feet slowly before quickly grabbing some biscuits and half running out of the office. He would have made it as well, if something hadn't caught his eye.

One side of Dan's wall was awash with all kinds of paper and documents he hadn't got the space to file. So he simply stuck them onto the wall. The thing that had caught his eye was part of a photograph, covered almost completely by a takeaway menu and something about goblin fines…

Andy slowly pulled the photograph out, and found that it wasn't a photograph after all.

DRACO MALFOY: UNABLE TO BE CAPTURED. WANTED BY THE MINISTRY FOR QUESTIONING.

And there, beneath the faded writing was the face of the man Ginny had been talking to. In the photo he looked just as arrogant, but younger, as he talked to a hooded figure in the bottom right hand side of the picture. The black and white picture hid the paleness of his skin, but somehow sharpened the whiteness of his hair, slicked back revealing his face without interruption. The photo moved occasionally, somehow managing to look disgusted by the fingers that were holding it. Andy recognised it at once. It was the man.

But the name.

Draco Malfoy. That rang a bell…

Dan had come up behind him when all these revelations had been going on. He glanced at the paper in his hands and tutted appreciatively. "Malfoy? Yeah, he's a twat and a half. I went to school with him – thank Merlin I was a few years above him. Nasty piece of work from what I hear."

Andrew didn't hear much more. Several big things had just come together in his mind.

Ginny had Wednesday's off. It was the best part of her week. The day she would spend at the Palace, really helping for once. Ron had tried to insist that her assistance started and finished with cups of tea but had failed miserably. And it was even more important considering she didn't make the Auror process, much to her initial dismay. So she'd taken the first decent Ministry job she could get, and thrown herself into Order work. It had been great. She even managed to combine the two, using Andrew – who, being an ex-Auror – always had a bit of a penchant for field work.

And so, everyone else, finally, had got the message that she wasn't a little girl anymore.

Besides, there wasn't any room for little girls anymore.

So it was on a fairly sunny afternoon that Ginny sat going through notices, copied documents, internal memos; any scraps of information that had been gleaned from the Ministry. It was under Hermione's insistence that they did this; hoping to find patterns not only in attacks, but Ministry dealing of them. Because if they could spot them, it meant that other people would as well.

Hermione was perched on a chair opposite. It had been a while since Ginny had seen her; each of them wrapped in their own worlds, making the week apart seem much longer. They had briefly hugged, shared a few minutes of chatter before settling down to work.

"There's going to be a raid," Hermione said suddenly, breaking the quiet that the temperamental radio filled. Ginny mumbled something in reply, hoping not to sound too disinterested. There was always a raid going on. Everyone knew that. She continued reading a pre-edited article from the Prophet. A minute later, Hermione's voice interrupted again.

"Aren't you bothered who it is?"

Ginny looked up. "Pass the bloody Floo directory – it could be anyone. You know that."

Hermione's parents house had been raided before now, but luckily they were both away and still didn't know about it. Their daughter however, created the eighth circle of hell for the poor guy that had commissioned it. No one had found out why, or what was going through Ministry minds, it happened.

"But it's Draco Malfoy."

Slightly unnerved under Hermione's gaze, Ginny took a sip of her tea. "Oh right. I think I heard something about that."

Hermione didn't even miss a beat. "I'm not surprised you heard about it. Your department finalised the paper work according to this. And it was only the other day!"

There was something in her tone of voice that, rather than making Ginny want to spill the beans on what had really happened the other day, make her bristle and switch into defensive. "Well actually, Andrew did that. And as far as I'm aware, it's no longer Ministry policy to blab about every warrant because I don't think even they're that stupid."

"But why didn't you tell us?"

"It only came through yesterday! And what difference does it make – it's an open and shut case!"

Please, oh Merlin please, drop the subject…

"That's not the point," Hermione snapped. "You should have told us! It could be important."

Ginny was losing her temper. She didn't need this at the moment, not from anyone, especially not Hermione. "You mean I should have told you. It has nothing to do with you, Hermione. If I was going to tell anyone, it would have been Tonks or Dung. The people who are actually concerned with raids like this."

"The fact remains, though," came a voice from the doorway, "that you didn't tell me."

It was Tonks, watching the scene between the two of them with an odd expression on her face. She was looking at Ginny carefully, before she turned to Hermione.

"Hermione, Ron wants to see you. He's just Flooed over from Wales or something."

Without a word, Hermione left quickly, with barely enough time to throw a dark look at Ginny. Tonks stayed.

"Just what was that about?"

Ginny fell back into the chair. She had obliviously stood up during their argument. She hadn't realised that she had lost it that much and now all she felt was deflated and guilty, the sensation nibbling away in her chest.

"You know she was just trying to help," Tonks said quietly as she stepped further in the room, echoing the thoughts in Ginny's head. "You should have told us, Gin, you know that."

Staring at the cup of tea that had been placed in front of her, Ginny sighed. Just when things were starting to go right as well…

"I know," she mumbled. "I've had a lot on my mind, and it was rushed through like you wouldn't believe. The raid's tomorrow you know."

"And you had the papers yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Merlin. Looks like they're finally getting their act together. Honestly, they've been trying for ages."

Ginny felt her heart plummet to her feet. With no small amount of trepidation, she turned and faced Tonks, who was pensively cradling her own mug of tea. "Trying what?"

"To get Draco. I think this time they'll be able to nail something on him. Finally."

That heavy feeling had riddled itself back into her chest. This was going to be the end of her. If she wasn't a nervous wreck by Monday, she could list many people who would tear her apart if they found out what she'd done.

"What exactly has he done?"

Tonks frowned in thought. "I'm not sure. Rumours of killings but definitely the other two Unforgivables. I think they just want some leverage over Lucius, to get him out of whatever rock he's residing under. I doubt it will work in that way, but it can't hurt having Draco Malfoy off the streets."

Ginny hid behind her mug. "Yeah. I suppose you've got a point."

Draco allowed himself to relax. The steam of the bath misted against the mirror and leisurely swirled around the lights. He sank beneath the water, enjoying the heat behind his eyes and feeling his hair seem as if it had left his head. It'd be so easy to slip to sleep..

Eventually, however, he needed to breathe.

He was tired, more so than usual. Raids had become more frequent – before it had been some pathetic attempts by the Ministry, where they would almost sheepishly knock on a door and glance around. The warrants were rubbish, and any decent defending lawyer could run rings around them and get any evidence removed. That's if they ever found evidence; most of the time they picked on the most random of people – he had heard rumours that they had inadvertently raided a few Muggle homes. The image made him laugh.

Now though, things had changed. Quite a few people had been fined heftily – almost as if the Ministry knew that imprisonment would be pointless – and the raiding process seemed to be less of a guy picking names out of a hat, and more of an actual planned manoeuvre. Aurors were brought along. And not just the grunts – the ones they could actually crack codes, avoid traps and the rest. The… clever ones.

It was disconcerting to say the least.

So he wasn't taking any thing for granted. Although a lot of it had been moved, sold or destroyed, Draco gutted the house of everything that had been brushed with any Dark materials. Books, potions, mirrors, masks, some odd looking vials and – he found this at the bottom of a chest – a snuff box that launched himself at him. He even threw away cauldrons, not before cleaning them so they sparkled, and Scourgifying the entire house from top to bottom.

And now, his final preparation was to have a bath. On the extremely slim chance he was detained for a long period of time, at least this way he wouldn't smell like a homeless Crup.

Genius really.

The Aurors wouldn't be here until at least midday, and probably later, less they miss their lunch break. And then he would saunter downstairs – preferably via the grander of the staircases – and throw his righteous weight around in the muddle that would be his raiders.

Merlin, these people were so predictable.

Just as he was starting to really relax however, the bathroom door slammed open and three men fell into his bathroom. There was a moment of silence as they all looked at each other.

Draco broke the silence. "Who the fuck are you?"

Before they could answer though, the worse person to possibly walk in his bathroom while he was bathing did so. Ron Weasley, complete with Auror field uniform wandered in. They looked at each other for a second – Draco trying to retain as much dignity as possible, and the stupid overgrown Weasel with the biggest grin on his face.

"Not a fan of bubble bath then, Malfoy?"

Draco opened his mouth fully expecting something witty to come out. "Shut up, poof."

R&R ;)