Learning to Live

Chapter 4: New Tasks

The office was quiet for once, desks empty because their former inhabitants were dead, injured, or out wrangling in Death Eaters. So much to be done now, but they were left to themselves, the last remaining Death Eater-Auror and the Man-Who-Killed-The-Dark-Lord. Harry stopped at the two-person desk he and Draco shared, frowning down at the piles of paperwork on both their sides.

"Well, Harry, what did you expect?" Draco sat down, putting his feet up on the desk--polished black leather boots--and picked up a green folder with a summary on the front of it. His was the bigger stack of paper; he had been gone for longer. "That last battle didn't sound very simple, and you have yet to document your own. I've got my own interrogations to write up. Not to mention what happened before you three saved my arse. Think of what joy I'll have in writing about *that*." There was a moment of tiredness around Draco's pale eyes, the faintest crinkle of snow white, twenty-two year old skin. When they Apparated from the street outside Harry's block of flats to just outside the steps of the Ministry, Draco had had to put his hood up as Harry shielded him from the reporters camped outside, waiting to ambush some Aurors for questioning. If the two men had let their hoods down, both would surely be dead, Harry from being mobbed by reporters, Draco from being killed on sight as a much-feared Deatheater "disguised" in Auror robes. So they had not heard the spying news yet.

"What did happen?" Harry looked through some of his own papers; their seats faced each other. Both were dressed in cleaned Auror robes, and Draco was more than glad for that. There had been too much blood on them, some of it his own. "Draco, hullo? Look, it isn't fair if I have to tell you--"

"It's my job, not yours, to interrogate." The blonde hadn't looked up yet, and he didn't want to think about looking up and meeting those eyes, so full of concern when he didn't even deserve it. The bandage around his forearm itched painfully.

"You said I was going to need help dealing with what I've done. As far as I can tell, you need it as much as I do. I don't care if you're Chief of Interrogation, I'm asking you as a friend!" Harry slammed the folder down on the table, knocking a few other files out of the way. Draco stopped writing at that.

"Temper, Potter. You don't want me as a friend, really. I wouldn't." Silence.

Then, "What do you mean, Draco? What have you done?"

"Let's go see Darko and find out what that letter is exactly about, shall we?" Draco rose, and Harry followed suit with a confused and angry expression. When they reached the door, he blocked his path.

"Tell me what you've done, Drake," he said, trying to be consoling, but Draco merely bypassed him. "Bloody hell, Draco, consistency is all I want from you!"

"Tell McGonagall I said 'thanks,' Harry. I might be gone for a bit. Things to do," he was saying nonchalantly as he made his way up to Alai Darko's office.

"Draco!" They were in the hallway now, Malfoy already on the steps to Darko's office, Harry a ways behind.

"What is it?" came a voice from behind, Ron's. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't know you were going to be in today, Weasley. Where's Hermione?" Draco asked, sidling his way up the stairs.

"Taking a rest at home. I was just coming to see how you both were. After the news, you know. They need extra reinforcements but I hoped they wouldn't call you in," Ron said, looking out of breath.

"Wait a minute, we weren't called in, we--" Harry stopped, about to mention the letter, but decided against it. Matters of such needed to be discussed on their own. "What news are you talking about? What's happened that needs extra Aurors?"

"You haven't heard? Lucius Malfoy's gone, disappeared yesterday right after we got back from the battlefield. Don't know how he did it, cos I set up the wards and guards myself. I guess in all the excitement with You-Know-Who, nobody bothered to check on Lucius. It's lucky he didn't take You-Know-Who with him," Ron told them. They'd taught them, during Training, to say Voldemort's name without fear, but he still avoided that for as often as he could.

"Oh he couldn't possibly have risked that. What use would the Dark Lord be to him now? Don't look at me like that; I'm his son, but it doesn't mean I know where he went," Draco added, his long legs moving with cat-like grace up the stairs so as not to be noticed in his ascent.

"You know how he thinks, Malfoy. As veiled as your father was, you understood him. You'll know where he'll try to hide, and you are still the heir of the Malfoy estate and its other properties," Alai Darko said, coming down the steps to meet them. His black hair was curly and tight on his head, giving it a mossed look, but he had teeth almost as white as Draco's and when he smiled he looked like he was going to bite someone's head off. At least Draco Malfoy's pale opalesque eyes glittered when he was going to be nasty. Their Chief was a splendid chap who tried a bit too hard to be a fatherly brother when he was in reality a vicious sort of wizard who in better times might be called a vigilante. In these times, he was simply efficient.

"I'm not going after him," said Malfoy adamantly with a stance that looked as if he'd put his foot down, although he hadn't shifted at all. Harry started up the stairs towards them, but Ron stayed at the foot of the steps. He had noticed something, but he wasn't certain what it meant yet.

"Like hell you aren't. You and Potter have both been assigned to bring him back at all possible costs," Darko replied, his chin pointing a bit towards Potter.

"Like hell we are! Had you any conception of what this man has undergone for our cause, you would be thanking him on your unworthy knees, pleading to be given the chance to look upon his face and kiss the hem of his robes. He has saved our world so many times you owe him more than your pitiful miniscule life could ever be worth," Draco growled, clearly showing an element of Lucius in his voice and suddenly predatory stance. Harry recognised this...how many times had he seen him nearly change into his Animagus form when seeking out a criminal wizard? They were partners on the job, after all, despite their initial misgivings--more like long-standing hatred--and complemented each other's capabilities.

"Draco, it's okay, I'll go with you," he tried to say. He didn't want any of this, but suddenly Ron was backing Draco up with fervent nods.

"Malfoy's right. He should get a bloody parade! Every day! All the Aurors have given up so much, and those two probably most of all. You've got to be bloody insane to give them another bloody assignment right after Harry's saved the world!" Ron said, receiving a sharp look from Harry. Was this really Ron? Ron, who'd always helped Harry hide from the attention? Ron, who'd understood that the fame he himself desired so much was far from what Harry wanted? Ron, who'd always shielded him if asked? Perhaps it was because Harry's victory could now allow Ron to build a family, or that Draco had, himself, killed those who tortured Neville's parents, Neville who now did research in Brazil as an Herbologist just to get away from it all. "It's as if you want to get rid of them and take the credit for yourself!"

"Don't be ridiculous, my good man, everyone knows I'm not suited for field work," scoffed Darko, but there was a slight stoop in his stance now, one that Harry couldn't help but compare to Wormtail's. Wormtail who, after all, had to fulfill what Harry asked of him as a result of the wizard's debt. Dumbledore had been right after all. Without Wormtail, Harry would have been dead long before. He shook himself free of the memory; he had not yet documented that event.

"It would appear you're not very well-suited for anything else, either," muttered Draco.

"Tut tut, now what was that, Malfoy?" Alai's eyes narrowed as Ron and Harry wondered if anybody should jump between the two.

"What was the meaning of telling us we were under investigation when our services are still needed?" Draco finally asked, pulling out the letter from his robes, thrusting it in front of Alai's nervous face.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, moving up to take a look at the letter. "What is this?"

"Dear me, is this the thanks I get from you, Malfoy, for trying to inform you and Potter of your situation? For being good enough to try to help you keep a lookout? Accusations?" Alai asked, nearly spitting on the letter held before him. He snatched it and tore it in half vehemently, continuing until his anger wouldn't let him do any more damage. "Insults? What are you trying to tell me, Malfoy? Hmm? Do you feel the same way, Potter? Is this your great benevolent thanks for my inside information?"

"Who is spearheading the investigations, Alai?" Harry asked quietly, calmly.

"Well, er, you see, the thing is, we were worried, er, that some children might, er, think that ah, oh, that killing is okay if it's Death Eaters, and we're afraid of the adulation that might get some people out of control, you know how it is, er, um, ah, er, the vanguard of the investigation, of your trial, that is, er," Alai sputtered for a moment. "me, as a matter of fact, but--get off me you fucking--" Draco had leapt at him, one hand at his neck, the other reaching for his wand. "Let go, Malfoy, please, Malfoy, don't do this acckh!"

Moving quickly, Ron and Harry both took Draco by the shoulders and loosened his fingers from Alai's neck, Harry pinning his arm to his side and pulling him away. "He's not worth the trouble, Draco! Let it go, Draco!" Ron insisted, grabbing the wrist of the hand that held the wand. "It's what he wants!"

"Draco, please, c'mon, let it go," Harry added, keeping him against the wall with Ron's help.

"You're mad! I always knew it! I was against letting you join in the beginning, but Potter and Weasley vouched for you, and Longbottom too!" spat Alai, looking like a very angry jungle cat. "I never should have let you join; I knew there was a madness in you, a wildness! It's in all the Malfoys, it's bad blood, bad faith, bad everything! You're all cracked!" He was backing away from Draco, his finger pointing wildly, accusingly at an increasingly furious Malfoy. It was all Ron and Harry could do to hold him back; they both knew how proud Draco was about his family, regardless of their ruthless reputation.

"I'll bring this up with the Council, Darko, but don't think for one second that I shall let them take care of it," Draco snarled. "When you lie awake at night in your pathetic little cot, don't forget who might just be waiting at your door."

"Let's go, mate," Ron said, tugging on Draco's elbow. Neither he nor Harry knew if they should allow Draco loose, but he answered their doubts by freeing himself and stalking off in the opposite direction. Ron turned to Alai as Harry followed. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I'd be scared shitless if I were you. I'm taking up the case with them, as of now. And Hermione is taking the week off."

Once outside, hooded and partially unoticeable, the three Aurors exited the Ministry building, skirting the waiting wizarding reporters and making for the safety of a Leaky Cauldron table in Diagon Alley. Once inside with swapped flasks, the soot of the dead weighing heavy in the air around them even as the atmosphere was one of celebration, they sat down, keeping their hoods up, their faces shielded. Draco kept his back to the room and counted on his fellow Aurors to keep watch. Nodding to the bartend, they never ordered any food or drink regardless of how often they'd come, though they always left a bit of money.

"I don't like it at all," muttered Draco heatedly, clenching his flask tightly, the crystal vial in a sturdy suede pouch. "Darko must be up to something. And worse, Father's gone." They knew better than to ask where Lucius Malfoy had fled; Draco probably had no idea.

"I still don't know what all this is even about. Harry, could you explain?" Ron asked in a low voice, his freckles appearing on the bridge of his nose.

"Darko sent us a letter telling us that we're accused of mass-murder, and that there's going to be a trial as soon as all this is cleaned up," Harry replied. "Did you get any letter like that?"

"No! What's he playing at? You two've probably saved more lives than you've taken," Ron said quickly. "We've got to tell Dumbledore."

"And what of this case we're supposed to be working on?" asked Malfoy moodily.

"We'll still be on it. Dumbledore's still got lots of people on the look out," Ron Weasley replied. "And it'd be nice to have an excuse to go back to Hogwarts."

"All right," Malfoy whispered. "We've been offered teaching positions there anyway. The only problem is, only the Order of the Phoenix knows I became a Death Eater for purposes of spying. The students won't have started their Yule Holiday yet."

"Then you just won't be seen. You know how that works," Harry said. Draco still needed the notorious Death Eater front in case they asked him to lure Death Eaters in for arrest. "Can you send Pig with a letter for Dumbledore, Ron? Let's Apparate to Hogsmeade Station. We can walk up to Hogwarts from there."