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‘Well, it’s rather urgent actually, which is why I’m making this call myself. My auror department has been investigating a series of unfortunate cases of severed magical cores. We’ve had every specialist at St Mungo’s on the case, and no one can seem to figure out what’s causing it. I was wondering if we would be able to bring in your potions expertise to help solve the case.’
Draco was incredibly surprised.
‘You want my help sir? Are you sure about that?’
Kingsley sighed over the floo, dropping the professionalism for a minute.
‘Draco, I’m your friend here. I’m asking you because you’re the most skilled potioneer I know. You also come highly recommended by people I happen to trust with my life. You don’t have to take the opportunity, and I will not blame you if you choose to turn me down, but I’m offering the contract to you first and foremost.’
Draco was gobsmacked. Someone at the Ministry recommended him? He could hardly believe it. Who would stick their neck out for him? Harry certainly wouldn’t. Not any more at least. Was there someone in the auror department he didn’t know he knows?
‘Maybe we can meet to discuss it? I’m open to helping but I am currently employed, and I need to know more before I can commit to anything.’
‘Of course, I’m very busy but if you could see me first thing in the morning I don’t mind coming into the office early, it really is an emergency.’
Draco couldn’t turn this down, not if the minister was willing to go in early just to see Draco. Whatever it was, it must be incredibly serious.
Draco supposed this might be quite good timing for him. He could leave his current employment, take on the Ministry contract, and he’d be free to leave for France at the end. Maybe it was a sign he was doing the right thing.
That night he didn’t sleep well at all. He woke up every hour with nightmares of his last night with Harry and the look on Teddy’s face when he told him he was moving away. Thankfully the night before he’d had time to brew a fresh batch of potions and they helped somewhat. Draco went to the Ministry with tired eyes and a buzzing in his ears from lack of sleep. He was hardly keeping his eyes open as he made his way up to Kingsley’s office. He’d only been there once before just after his trial when Kingsley promised he would be exonerated.
He was still very nervous to be back. He was getting horrible stares from the people around the Ministry at the early hour. There was a surprising amount of people there considering the working day hadn’t officially started yet. Clearly the Ministry was still paying overtime.
Kingsley’s secretary wasn’t even in yet when Draco arrived, so he knocked directly on Kingsley’s door.
‘Come in.’ He heard faintly through the thick wood and he pushed the door open. He probably should’ve seen it coming but he’d been so engrossed in his planning for France, he hadn’t even given it a second thought.
‘Minister.’ Draco greeted cordially, ignoring the elephant in the room.
‘Draco.’ Kingsley greeted him with a sheepish smile. Draco took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm him. His stomach was churning, and he was almost certain he was going to throw up his morning potion.
‘Potter.’ He said shakily, nodding briefly but not looking anywhere near his eyes. He couldn’t.
‘Malfoy.’ Harry said stiffly.
Great. Bloody, fucking, great.
Chapter 3
It didn’t appear to be the right time to say that Draco wasn’t in fact a Malfoy. When they’d married, Draco had actually taken Harry’s name. It surprised a lot of people; the papers had been running bets on whether they’d become Potter-Malfoys or Malfoy-Potters, but Draco was firm. He no longer had a reason to associate with the Malfoy family. He had no family left and no land to claim—he figured his marriage would mark the end of the family line and the beginning of a new life. Anyway, Draco had never found the time or the inclination to change his name back after the divorce. He didn’t particularly enjoy being a Potter, but since no one had ever bothered referring to him as one it hardly made any difference anyway. Only the legal documents would show any different.
‘I was not aware Mr. Potter would be joining us, Minister.’ Draco said coldly. Any excuse not to have to look at the git’s stupid face.
‘Ah, yes. I do apologise for springing that on you. Head Auror Potter will of course be handling a case as sensitive as this. You’ll understand I’m sure.’
Of course. Draco was stupid, at the very least na?ve, to think that he could do this without seeing Harry. Personal issues aside, Harry was excellent at his job and there’s no way he wouldn’t be involved in a case which the Minister was also dealing with personally. Draco could only hope that he’d be spending time in a lab and far away from Harry.
‘Of course.’ Draco said as he took the seat next to Harry. He could feel his eyes burning through the side of his head, but he refused to look. He regretted choosing to wear his muggle suit today. He figured it would be good to make one of his rare appearances at the Ministry an opportunity to show how much he had changed, and muggle fashion was an excellent way to do that. Harry, however, had always loved seeing Draco in this style of suit. Muggle formalwear was much more tight-fitting and tailored than its wizarding counterpart. Draco fought to keep the heat away from his cheeks and his attention on the Minister.
‘Ok, to business.’ Kingsley pulled two files out from his desk drawer and passed a copy to each of them. Draco took the file with shaky fingers and began skimming the papers inside. Harry didn’t even take his from the edge of the desk. He’d better not be expecting Draco to fill him in just because he’s too lazy to read the damn file.
‘We’ve had a series of cases in the past week of witches and wizards turning up with the magical core either almost completely drained or severed in some way. There appear to be no connections between any of the patients, none of them had been to any of the same places in the previous twenty-four hours. Blood tests haven’t revealed any commonalities and thus far they’ve all been put in a magically induced coma in the hopes that their magic will restore itself naturally.’
‘Forgive me, Minister, but it doesn’t sound like you have many leads here.’ Draco said. None of the information in the file seemed to make any sense.
‘Actually,’ Harry cut in, ‘my colleagues came across an abandoned potions lab yesterday which they think may be connected in some way. I’m pushing to get the paperwork through quickly so that we can scope the place out.’
‘Forget the paperwork, anything to do with this case has authorisation directly from me. We’ll deal with everything else later.’ Now this was a whole other ball game.
‘Excuse me,’ Draco knew he’d have to tread carefully here, but there was something off about this. ‘Is there something else I should know? I understand that this case is urgent but foregoing paperwork is another kind of urgency.’ Ever since the war the Ministry had become increasingly tight with its paperwork in an attempt to clamp down on the misuse of resources and corruption.
Kingsley looked wearily at Harry and Draco sneaked a glance in his direction. He looked far better than Draco did, a little tanned in fact. Probably been on a fancy getaway with Leggy-Blonde. Harry was tense, very tense actually. It wouldn’t be obvious to many people, but Draco knew. The small twitch in his sharp jawline, the way he held himself just a little straighter than was natural to him, his nervous habit of attempting to smooth his hair down. As if anything could tame the bird’s nest.
‘We have reason to believe,’ Kingsley said carefully, ‘that this has something to do with neo-Death Eater activity.’
And there was the other shoe. Apparently, it dropped right onto Draco’s chest and knocked all the air out of his lungs. Every muscle in his body tensed.
‘I see.’ Draco said, trying his utmost to keep his tone neutral. ‘What exactly has led you to that conclusion?’
‘Draco—’ He could see Harry turn towards him in his peripheral vision, but he didn’t dare look. He couldn’t handle Harry’s sympathy face, it would kill him slowly from the inside.
‘I’ve got this Harry.’ Kingsley rested his elbows on his desk and paused as though choosing his words carefully. ‘We’ve been keeping tabs on anyone with connections to the Death Eaters. In recent months, Albert Runcorn has been spotted numerous times with Mafalda Hopkirk.’
Draco’s brows furrowed.
‘Neither of those people were Death Eaters.’ The I would know went unsaid.
‘I realise that; however, both were employed under the Death Eater occupation of the Ministry, and Mafalda was a confirmed informant. Unfortunately, the Ministry didn’t have the resources to send either of them to trial at the time, and they were allowed to go on probation.’
Draco heaved a sigh. The injustice of it all.
‘And now you think that since it’s been so long since the war, they think they’ll be under less scrutiny.’ Draco suggested.
‘Exactly.’ Kingsley was watching him carefully, waiting for an outburst. Draco maintained his calm again.
‘And can I assume,’ he began slowly, ‘that my involvement in this case can be taken as reassurance that I’m not a suspect?’ He hated how much he sounded like his father, but he was not about to play games.
‘Woah Draco! You can’t possibly think that—’
‘Don’t,’ Draco said icily, ‘presume to tell me what I can and cannot think.’ He turned his body towards Harry and shot him the fiercest glare he could muster. Harry visibly shrunk into his seat and Draco felt a twisted sense of pride that he still had some kind of power over him after all this time.
‘I promise you, that the Ministry is more than aware of your allegiances Malfoy, and anyone who wants to question them will answer to me personally.’
‘I appreciate that.’ Draco knew when to pick his fights, and he certainly wouldn’t kick up a fuss when given support from the Minister for Magic on a silver platter.
‘I want to offer you a full-time consultation contract on the case. We’re pouring as many resources as we can spare into this and we need it resolved as quickly as possible. I’m willing to speak to your current employer directly and come to an arrangement if needs be.’
‘Ok, but what exactly do you need me to do here?’
