Diamonds On The Inside

Chapter Seven

Will I Ever See Thee Wed?

Roll back the shield between us and I'll kiss you

Drop your defenses and come into my arms

I'm all for believing if you can

Reveal your true colours within

"All For Believing" ~ Missy Higgins

"Who the blue bleeding hell broke my soap?!"

"What?"

"You heard me! Who broke my soap? It was sitting on the soap dish in the shower and was perfectly intact this time yesterday and now it's broken!"

Silence, then:

"You're a wizard, for Merlin's sake! Haven't you ever heard of Reparo?"

"It's the principle of the thing!"

"Don't yell at me!"

"I'M NOT!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Ginny muttered. She looked up and met Susan's gaze, which was as weary as her own. She raised her eyebrows. Susan lifted her shoulders in response. Ginny sighed and got up from her place at the table, marching out of the room and up the stairs. She made a left at the top of the stairs and stood at the door of the bathroom, glowering at an irate Draco. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to find out who broke my soap!" he said angrily.

Ginny looked at the two pieces of soap in his hand. They were miniscule. The soap had been used so often that it was reduced to a paper-thin sliver. It was quite cleanly snapped in two. She looked at it disbelievingly before glancing back up at him.

"Are you kidding?"

"No!" he insisted. "Who broke it?"

Ginny turned her attention to the man standing in the hallway just outside Susan's bedroom.

"What do you know about the case of the broken soap, Ernie?" she quizzed him.

Ernie shrugged. "Nothing," he said flatly.

"I bet you he did it!" Draco shot at Ginny.

"What makes you say that?" she asked him calmly.

"He's the only person in this house who would willfully break my soap," Draco declared.

"What?" Ernie said. He came to stand next to Ginny and stared at Draco. "Why would I bother breaking your precious soap?"

"Probably comes as easily to you as breaking hearts does," Draco sneered.

Ginny felt Ernie freeze beside her.

Draco set the soap down on the dish and snapped, "Reparo!" The soap bonded together instantly. He pushed past Ginny and Ernie and went downstairs, a scowl on his face.

Ernie was shaking. "That bastard," he said quietly. "He's such a bastard!"

Ginny touched his arm, concerned. "Try not to let it get to you," she advised him. "Draco has been in a very bad mood ever since Harry left." Strangely enough, Ginny added silently. She couldn't understand it herself. Draco had been tolerable in his nasty ways before Harry arrived but after, he'd been positively vindictive. Coincidence, Ginny decided.

"When did Harry stay here?" Ernie asked. Ginny couldn't help but note that his hands were shaking.

"Last week." She smiled at him. He didn't return it. "Hey, cheer up," she said. "At least Susan doesn't condemn you for what you did."

"How did he even know?" Ernie asked. His eyes were sad. "I was drunk out of my skull. It meant nothing to me. Nothing! I could barely remember that I'd done it at all the next day." He was silent for a moment. "I don't even know the girl's name..."

"He was there for Susan when she found out. We all were," she told him. "Seriously though, don't let him get to you. Draco has said a lot worse to me."

"Prick," Ernie said feelingly. He looped his arm through Ginny's and smiled bravely at her. "Let's go and find Susan." They ambled down the stairs, the journey uncomfortable in the narrow space. Ginny entered the kitchen before Ernie, his arm still attached to hers.

Draco was standing at the sink, and turned around as they entered. "Better watch out, Sue," he remarked caustically. "Now he's after Ginny."

Ernie turned and left the room. Susan looked at Draco, surprised, before following Ernie back upstairs.

"Would you stop being such a bastard?" Ginny hissed at Draco, eyes flashing. "What the hell has he ever done to you?"

"Apart from hurt a friend?" Draco asked calmly, setting a bottle of water on the sink. He pretended to consider. "Apart from that?"

"Apart from that," Ginny said through gritted teeth, choosing to ignore Draco's label of Susan as a friend. She hadn't realised that they got on so well. She supposed bitterly that she might have the same label if she didn't spend so much time at work. How had it escaped her notice? And why on earth did she care, anyway? She'd no need of Draco as a friend.

"Nothing," Draco said cheerily. He picked up an enchanted lunch bag and slipped the bottle of water inside before poking around the fruit basket. "Apple or banana, apple or banana?" he mused.

"Nothing," Ginny repeatedly flatly. "Well, excuse me for thinking that's a pretty poor excuse for being a total prick to Ernie!"

Draco paused in his search to glance witheringly at her. "It's none of your business, Weasley."

"Neither is it yours, Malfoy," she shot back. "Just leave Ernie alone!"

Draco chucked a banana into his lunch bag and tapped it with his wand, sealing it instantly. He threw her a look of condescension as he tucked it into his briefcase. "Whatever."

"Whatever?" she repeated in disbelief. "You are so rude," she muttered, grabbing her bag from the table and turning to leave.

"Oh, please," Draco scorned her as he pushed past, banging her elbow on the doorframe. "Stop acting as if you don't love every minute of my rudeness." And then he was gone, the front door slamming behind him.

Thoroughly incensed, Ginny opened the door and hollered after him. "I do not love you or anything about your rudeness!"

He kept walking, calling back, "Thou dost protest too much!" He lifted an arm and disappeared around the corner of the fence.

~ * ~ * ~

Ginny tapped her feet on the floor of the bus as it lurched along the road. Thoughts of Draco and the morning's events had her rolling her eyes and looking disgustedly out the window. A spotty young man clutching a laptop was sitting next to her, staring fixedly ahead. Ginny had tried to smile at him but to no avail; the glazed look in his eyes suggested to her that it had been a late night for him.

A mother of three young children sat directly in front of Ginny nursing a baby. Two toddlers were clambering all over the seats around them, squealing and laughing in the way that only very young children can.

"Be quiet, Courtney," the mother said irritably as her baby started to wail. Commuters gave the woman sour looks and her cheeks reddened. "You're waking Lee. Just sit down and-- Meghan! Leave that man alone!"

Meghan, a tiny little girl with pink cheeks, black curly hair and sparkling blue eyes was slapping the young man's laptop case. He was looking at her in a horrified fashion and tried to move the laptop closer to himself. Meghan's hand enclosed on the case and gripped hard.

"Come on, Meghan," the mother cajoled, patting the baby on the back. "Be a good girl and sit around the right way."

About this time, Ginny's own mother would've brought out her wand and threatened to fix the children's pants to their seats. She smiled half-heartedly at the little girl. In some strange way, she reminded Ginny of herself. Courtney, an older girl with red pigtails leaned over the bus seat and regarded Ginny.

"Are you famous?" Courtney asked Ginny curiously.

"Courtney, really!" her mother scolded before giving Ginny a wry smile. "I'm sorry. These two are always a bundle of energy."

"That's alright," Ginny replied, smiling at Courtney. "No, I'm not famous."

"You look famous," Courtney said, nodding wisely.

Ginny laughed. "Do I? Why?"

Courtney stared at her, her little face furrowed in thought. Finally, she shook her head. "I don't know."

"What's famous?" Meghan asked, tugging on her mother's sleeve impatiently. "Tell me, Mummy."

"It's when everybody knows who you are," her mother answered, detaching herself from the grubby hand wrinkling her sleeve. "Now sit down, Meghan!"

Sulkily, Meghan sat down. Courtney continued to stare at Ginny before her mother leaned over, grasped the back of her jumper and pulled her down onto the seat.

"Mummm!" Courtney protested.

"Quiet!" her mother replied.

Ginny smiled. It reminded her so much of home. She and brothers had hardly ever ridden in buses but they'd certainly asked nosey questions of strangers and bickered amongst themselves and to their mother. It seemed like yesterday, really. A lot had happened, but there was still every chance that Ginny could walk into the Burrow and, within twenty minutes, have successfully argued with everyone. She suddenly missed home very much.

There was movement inside her handbag. Ginny glanced down in surprise at it, feeling the vibrations as they shot up her arm. Bzzt bzzt bzzt. The man sitting next to her glanced at her curiously. She slid across the zip on her bag and groped about in it, trying to source the vibrations. Please, oh please, don't let it be some sort of tiny flesh-eating monster, Ginny prayed fervently. Her hands closed around the offending object. She drew it out slowly and blinked at it. It was flashing.

Harry Potter

Answer?

Ginny smirked at her own stupidity. Her mobile telephone, set to vibrate when in silent mode. Duhhh. A tiny flesh-eating monster indeed! Draco must have slipped something in her morning pumpkin juice. She fumbled with the buttons, eventually pressing the correct one. The vibrating ceased and Ginny raised the phone to her ear, her cheeks flushing.

"Hello?" she asked warily. She'd owned this mobile telephone for around a month now; ever since she'd learnt she was going to the Muggle world. Arthur had positively insisted that this was how Muggles communicated regularly. Problem was; he was the only person who knew her number. Although, apparently not.

"Ginny! It's Harry. I wasn't sure if you'd know how to pick up the phone," Harry's voice cascaded warmly into her ear.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm not technologically challenged, you know," she berated him gently.

"Yes, but you're not Muggle. The technological ease doesn't come naturally to you," he responded.

"What do you want, Harry?" Ginny asked. She could see her bus stop looming up in the distance and she had no desire to try and get out of the crowded bus trying to juggle a handbag and a mobile phone.

"I want to see you this evening," he replied. "I want to talk to you."

It wasn't her bus stop after all. Ginny sighed. All the street corners looked alike.

"Is that a no?" Harry asked.

"Oh, no," Ginny said hurriedly. "Sorry, I just thought it was my stop and it wasn't. Um... tonight. What do you want to talk to me about?"

"Things," he said evasively. "Us."

"Us?" Ginny asked, an unease growing in her stomach. "What about us?"

Harry laughed softly. "Oh, come on, Ginny..."

Ginny closed her eyes briefly, opening them to see the young man with the laptop openly smirking at her. She turned away pointedly.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," she said quietly, trying to disguise her conversation. "I don't think there's anything to talk about, for a start."

Harry was silent.

"And," Ginny barreled on, "tonight is not the best night. I've got a lot on."

"Okay," he said eventually. "I'll catch you some other time then."

"Don't take it the wrong way, Harry," Ginny pleaded. "Just give me some time to get stuff sorted out."

"Yeah, whatever," he said easily. "Call me if you want to grab lunch or something one day soon. You have my number now. 'Bye." There was a beep and he was gone.

Ginny tucked the phone away in her bag and stood up, brushing past the smug laptop man. She made her way to the door, tripping over various umbrellas and baby prams on the way.

"Bye-bye, famous lady!" little Courtney called.

"SHHH, Courtney!"

Ginny smiled at the girl, waving at her and her sister. The bus jerked to a halt and Ginny stepped off the bus gingerly, thanking the driver. She made her way down the street towards the large building in which the BDI was housed, thinking about Harry. Did he really still love her?

Ginny and Harry had dated for three months during her sixth year. The last three months, in fact. Then the summer had arrived and Harry was working a summer job in Diagon Alley. Ginny hardly ever heard from him and never saw him except perhaps once a fortnight. And each time she did see him, he seemed more distant. It broke her heart to do it, but she ended the relationship. As she told him then, "I can't remain in love with someone who loves me back once a fortnight." He'd protested at first but he hadn't taken much convincing.

And then during the last two years of the war, they'd picked up right where they left off. Working together closely had led to ignition of the old spark. It had been rather romantic, really. Ginny smiled wistfully at the memory. All Harry had done was extend his hand and look at her with those big green eyes of his. She had fallen in love with him very quickly, and it had remained just as strong for almost two entire years. And then, again, he had changed. It had been like living with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde; there had been angry Harry and sad Harry with not much difference between the two. And as Ginny had spent hours pointing out to her mother, there was no point in her wasting her youth on someone who just didn't know if she was there for him or not.

~ * ~ * ~

Dave was lounging against the wall of the lobby, checking his watch. As soon as he glanced up and saw Ginny, he broke into a wide smile and hurried over to meet her. Ginny glanced up at him curiously, surprised at how happy he seemed. He took her coat and bag from her as she signed in at the desk.

"Ready?" he asked when she was done.

"You seem excited," Ginny replied, trying to take her things from him. He resisted.

"I am!" He motioned for her to follow him and they made their way to the lift. He stood in the doorway while she moved inside then pressed a lower floor button.

"G7?" Ginny inquired curiously.

Dave nodded. "Lottie is here."

The lift zoomed downwards. Ginny felt a peculiar sensation in her stomach, and wasn't sure if it was the lift or Dave's casual announcement. "Who is Lottie?"

"Dr. Charlotte Messner. She's performing the final autopsy on Harry today," Dave told her. The lift stopped suddenly. Ginny's stomach jumped into her mouth. "Stops suddenly, doesn't it?" Dave grinned. "I prefer to take the stairs down here usually but I didn't think you'd be keen for that."

"We'll take the stairs next time," Ginny managed. She followed him down a dimly lit hallway into a very bright laboratory. A pretty woman with dark curls wearing a lab coat was bending over a corpse. She turned and smiled as they entered. Ginny's attention was instantly drawn to the face of the corpse. Harry Jenkins. As they neared the body, a sickening feeling grew in the pit of Ginny's stomach. It intensified as she made out the scar on the man's forehead. It was shaped like a snake, not unlike the snake on the tap in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom at Hogwarts. Ginny swallowed thickly.

"Lottie!" Dave beamed at the woman. "This is Ginevra Weasley."

Charlotte extended a hand for Ginny to shake. "Dr. Charlotte Messner. Please, call me Charlotte."

Ginny couldn't help but return the doctor's warm smile as she shook her hand. "Ginny."

"I started the autopsy about half an hour ago," Charlotte told Ginny. "Dave thought you should be here."

Ginny nodded. "I think that's a good idea."

"Carry on," Dave invited Charlotte. He nudged Ginny and pointed at two chairs beside the far wall. "We should keep out of the way until she finds something interesting."

~ * ~ * ~

"Now this is interesting," Charlotte said, squinting at the corpse.

Ginny wearily drew her gaze toward the doctor again. Dave leapt to his feet and made his way over to Charlotte, as he had done the last fifteen or sixteen times Charlotte had found something 'interesting'. She checked her watch. It had been two hours since they had arrived. She got up slowly and approached the table.

"Look!" Dave was saying excitedly, pointing down at the man's elbow. "Lacerations! Skin lacerations!"

Ginny peered at the elbow and saw nothing.

"Here." Charlotte handed her a magnifying glass. "Look closely."

Ginny bent down and looked closely at the elbow through the glass. Finally she spotted tiny, tiny rips in the skin where the man might've bumped too hard into a doorway. "Is that all?" she asked.

"It could be the answer, Ginny," Dave said severely. "There might have been a struggle, and there might be some skin cells from the other man in the lacerations."

"Or he may have scraped his elbow on a doorway," Ginny replied, giving the magnifying glass back to Charlotte. "But by all means, check it out."

"I'm as skeptical as Ginny," Charlotte confessed, tucking the magnifying glass away in her pocket. "I just don't think you're going to find anything out from this, Dave."

Dave looked dejected. "There's no hope?"

"Oh, there's hope," Charlotte assured him. "But I wouldn't count on it." She shook her head. "This is just the most puzzling murder I've ever come across. If I didn't know better, I'd say that he just decided to die... there's no sign of injury or disease or failed organs... nothing." She smiled wryly at Dave. "Sorry."

Ginny couldn't hide her yawn. Dave looked devastated.

"You're bored?"

"No," Ginny lied. "But I don't think my assistance is required here any longer. So I'm going to go upstairs and talk to Seamus about further investigation possibilities." She laid a hand on Dave's arm. "I don't know what to say, Dave... but I don't think there're many more avenues we can explore."

Dave nodded. "I know. I just don't want to admit it. I've been investigating it for so long. Someone must know something!" He reached out and touched her hand.

It stayed there for a moment. Ginny lowered her eyes, not able to meet his gaze. She moved her hand away. "Maybe," she said. "See you later."

~ * ~ * ~

Ding dong!

"Barry! No! Tilt it more to the right!"

"I am, you overgrown bat!"

"Oh, shut up, Barry!"

"No one asked your opinion, Herman!"

"I DIDN'T SAY TO MOVE IT OUT OF THE TRUCK YET!"

Ginny shook her head in amazement. She still couldn't quite believe that Draco was having a piano delivered. And on a Saturday, too. He must've bribed the movers with something really worth it. She slapped the last blob of muffin mixture into the tray and slid it into the oven, setting the temperature to a hundred and eighty degrees Celsius. What she really couldn't understand was why he had bought a Muggle piano at all. When would he have learnt to play one? His father abhorred all things Muggle. And why was he getting it delivered instead of just doing it himself? There was any number of spells that he could have used to get the piano more safely and efficiently into the house. Ginny peeked around the corner of the kitchen.

"Are you Draconis--uh, Dragon--damn it--Mister Malfoy?" a round little man in overalls was asking, consulting a grubby clipboard.

"Draco Malfoy, yes." Ginny could see Draco's jaw starting to clench and had to stifle a giggle.

"Right," the man said, the perspiration on his forehead starting to trickle down his cheeks. "Hot out there, eh?"

Draco regarded the man for a minute, his expression one of disbelief. "Are you bringing the piano in?"

"That we are," the man said agreeably. "I didn't tell them to but they're doing it anyway."

"They must respect you a lot," Draco purred. The man nodded happily. Draco rolled his eyes. "Right, well, I want the piano to go in this room." He pointed to the lounge room. "Against the back wall."

The man peered into the room. "Wouldn't it go better against the front wall?"

"It would, yes," Draco said impatiently, "but you can't put a piano against an outside wall; the damp will get to it."

"Ah," the man said. "Right. Well, I'll just, uh... bring it in, then."

"You do that," Draco responded. The man scurried away. Draco heaved a sigh. "Merlin almighty." He turned and saw Ginny, his eyebrows lifting. "Hello."

"Hey," she replied cautiously. They hadn't really spoken since their flare-up at one another the other day. "A piano, huh?"

"Yep," Draco said, stretching his arms above his head. "It's a Bösendorfer or some such. The guy said it was a really good one. It had a very nice tone. I looked it up on the computer thing at the library." He paused. "Actually, the librarian seemed very surprised that I was casually buying a Bösendorfer."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Isn't it supposed to be the best piano in the world?"

"Dunno," Draco shrugged. "It'll do."

"I didn't know you played the piano," she said, coming out in the hallway to stand next to him. She watched, bemused, as the men outside struggled to carry the piano up the front path. "It's huge."

"Yeah, it's a big upright," Draco agreed. "And I learnt to play the piano when I moved out of home. I lived next door to old Mrs. Mills for about three years or so. She taught piano to little kids. She invited me in one day after I carried her shopping up the stairs for her and it just grew from there."

Ginny smiled. "You carried her shopping for her?"

"I'm not an ogre," he rejoined. "Hey! Don't you dare bash it into the doorway!"

"It's not wide enough," the little man groused. "How can we fit it through?"

Draco glanced at Ginny. She quickly cottoned on to his thinking. "That's alright," she volunteered quickly. "There's a special latch down here which opens it up a little further, it should let it through then."

Draco smirked as the men looked mystified.

"A special latch?" the little man asked. "Must be a very old door, to have all that secret kind of stuff."

"Oh, it is," Ginny heard Draco say as she dashed into her bedroom to retrieve her wand. She tucked it into her jeans pocket and headed back out into the hallway. The piano blocked the men's view of the hallway completely. Thankful, she knelt down next to the doorway and aimed her wand at the right side doorframe.

"Expando!" she whispered. The doorway moved aside, enabling the piano to fit through with plenty of room. There was an intake of breath from the men outside.

"That's so cool," a young looking one said. "Do all the doors do that?"

Ginny cast a look at the lounge room door. It, too, was not big enough and would have to be expanded. She wondered why Draco hadn't thought of that before the men arrived. "Yes, most of them do," she said, moving quickly into the lounge room to expand the doorframe.

"Thanks, Ginny," Draco said. "I hadn't remembered that." She smiled.

"Don't know how you thought we were going to get the piano inside the house then," the little man grumbled.

~ * ~ * ~

"Looks awesome!" Lavender declared.

They were all standing in the lounge room, admiring the piano.

"I wish I could play the piano," Susan said.

Ernie, his arms around Susan from behind, nodded in agreement. "It seems a cool thing to be able to do."

"Maybe Draco could teach us all," Lavender said thoughtfully. "Though I don't know when I'd have the time..."

"Yeah, you're always at work now," Susan said, laughing at Lavender. "Oh, don't look so put out. You know you love it."

"Most of the time!" Lavender smiled. "But a bit of down-time would be nice. Anyway, I've got to get dinner started. Any preferences?"

"No arsenic," Ernie said.

Lavender rolled her eyes. "Jeez, MacMillan, I'll do my best."

"You doing a stir fry?" Susan asked. Lavender nodded. "Indian?"

"Yeah, I will," Lavender decided. She wandered out of the room, still casting admiring glances at the piano. She bumped into Draco, who was just on his way into the room. "Oops, sorry, hon," she said, giggling at him.

"No matter," he replied dryly. "Did I hear you say Indian stir fry? Yes? Hurry up then!"

As Draco entered the room, Susan and Ernie left it hastily, after making their compliments about the newest addition to the house known. Draco gave Ernie an icy look at his retreating back. Things between them were still not good after the broken soap episode. There would be no convincing of Draco that the soap had probably broken of its own accord due to its age.

Ginny smiled warily at Draco as he looked at her. "Fancy learning a duet?" he asked.

Ginny was surprised. "A duet? I can't play the piano."

"This one is easy," he said, swinging his legs over the piano stool and scooting over. "Come and sit here and I'll teach you it."

Ginny approached the piano with some trepidation. She had a sinking feeling that she would be an abysmal pianist. The fact that Draco was obviously quite competent further served to unsettle her. She sat down next to him, careful to keep an inch between them, and smiled bravely. "Where do we start?"

As Draco instructed her in how to play a short tune called "Rose, Rose", Ginny found that he was actually a very good teacher. And the notes actually made sense to her. There was a definite pattern to the keys. She didn't know the names of the notes or indeed, anything about them - save for this small tune - but somehow, she felt relaxed and happy as she tinkled away at her end of the keyboard. She found herself laughing, enjoying it immensely.

"Excellent, you've got it," Draco said. "Now for the lyrics."

"Lyrics?" Ginny said, horrified. "I have to sing?"

"Of course," Draco said, amused. "It's more fun that way. And I know you can sing, Weasley, I've heard you in the shower."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "That so doesn't count," she muttered. "Everyone sounds fantastic in the shower."

"Good acoustics," Draco said knowledgably. "Now, the lyrics."

Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose,

Will I ever see thee wed?

I will marry, yes, I will,

When thou art dead.

Ginny shrieked with laughter. "What? Oh my lord."

"Gotta love the old English songs," Draco said with some satisfaction. "Come on. Give it a whirl."

Ginny tentatively started to pick out the first few notes.

"Sing!" Draco commanded.

"Oh, bloody buggering hell," Ginny mumbled in typical Ron fashion. She cleared her throat pointedly. "Are you singing?" she asked, stalling.

"Yes. Now go on," he said. "Because we're doing it in a round, I'll start after you."

"Scum!" Ginny accused, her mouth wide open in disapproval.

"Weasley," Draco said patiently, "stop stalling."

Her heart was pounding, though from the prospect of Draco hearing her sing or her stuffing it up, she wasn't sure. She began. "Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose--"

"Rose, Rose--" Draco started loudly before stopping in exasperation. "Weasley!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she giggled helplessly. "I've never done anything like this before."

"Merlin," Draco muttered to himself. "Alright. Start again. Focus. Don't listen to me. I'll stay in time with you."

"Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose, will I ever see thee wed?" That was as far as Ginny got before she collapsed in helpless giggles again.

"That was better," Draco said dryly. "We're halfway there. Now if you could just manage to sing the last two lines, we'd be in business."

Ginny started loudly. "Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose! Will I ever see thee--"

Draco burst out laughing. "Fool!"

Ginny howled with laughter. "I'm sorry, I suck!"

"Damn straight," Draco said agreeably. "Far out, Ginny. You're a giggler."

"Always have been," Ginny rejoined. "And a shrieker."

"A shrieker, really..." Draco winked at her.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Alright, enough of that!" Some small part of her was wondering - no, demanding to know what was going on. Was she sitting very close to Draco Malfoy, laughing, singing and playing the piano with him? Was she going mad? Ron was going to kill her. More importantly, she was going to help him. She had a feeling she was enjoying herself.

~ * ~ * ~

Ring, ring.

"I'LL GET IT!"

Ring, ring.

Ring, ring.

"WELL, HURRY UP AND ANSWER IT THEN!"

Ring, ring.

"HANG ON!"

Ring, ring.

"TELEPHONES DON'T WAIT FOR ANYONE!" Ginny yelled in exasperation. Draco seemed to consider it his duty to answer the telephone and wouldn't let anyone else get it. He insisted that it was safest, in case it was someone nasty. Ginny asked him just how he intended to protect them from someone nasty over the telephone and he just gave her a withering look.

Ring, ri--

"Hello?" There was a lengthy pause. "Oh, it's you." Another pause. "Yeah. Hang on." Draco materialised at Ginny's doorway. "It's for you." He passed the phone to her, scowling at the receiver.

"Thanks," Ginny said pleasantly, taking it from him. He gave the phone another dark look before nodding and leaving the room.

"Hello, Harry," Ginny said.

"Harry?"

"Oh, Dave!" Ginny laughed. "Uh... sorry. Judging from the look Draco gave me, I figured it would be Harry. Uhm..." Too late, she realised how weird that sounded. "So! What's going on?"

"Oh, y'know," Dave said lazily. "Missing you desperately, of course."

"Obviously," Ginny said, looking at the clock. "Calling your work mate at eight o'clock on a Saturday night certainly equates to desperate."

"Actually, I've been working all day," Dave said. "I've got something rather important to tell you about the Jenkins case."

"Oh, do you?" Ginny asked absently, twirling a strand of hair around her finger absently. "Go on."

Dave sounded very efficient. "I called my father and arranged for him and one of his associates to come in and see the body today. As you know, we'd had no luck with any of the autopsies and the boys upstairs were getting very sick of granting them to me. Waste of resources, apparently."

"Okay," Ginny said. "Should I be taking notes?" She glanced towards her files.

"No, that's cool," Dave said. "I've taken extensive notes."

"Right..." Ginny said slowly. "So, your father? Who was the associate?" Wasn't his father a witch or a wizard or something? she wondered. What possible sort of associate would a Muggle witch have?

Dave coughed. "Um, her name is..." There was a pause. "Moonfeather."

"Beg yours?" Ginny asked in disbelief.

"Moonfeather," he repeated. "That's her spiritual name; I can't remember her real name. I should have it written down here somewhere." There was a great rustling of papers. "Aha! Geraldine Antoine Featherstone. Um..."

Ginny stifled a laugh. She'd almost say that name was worse.

"Anyway," Dave continued, "they performed a ritual on the body and found traces of witchcraft energy."

Whaaaaat?

"Moonfeather seems convinced that a shaman or druid or something killed Jenkins through a highly sophisticated method of energy manipulation," Dave said hesitantly. "What do you think?" he asked.

"I..." Ginny expelled her breath slowly. "It seems a bit incredible."

"You don't believe in witchcraft then?" Dave asked.

"No..." she said slowly. Suddenly, an idea occurred to her. "No, I mean, I do. I'm..." she paused. Bite the bullet? "I'm a witch," she confessed.

There was a silence at the other end of the phone.

"Not... not like you think," Ginny pressed on. "I--"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Dave asked, his voice colder than before. "You could have trusted me with that sort of information. I thought you knew nothing of Paganism."

"Um..." Ginny was at a loss for words. "That's not what we called it where I lived," she tried.

"Oh!" Dave's tone brightened. "You're Wiccan, then?"

Was she? She had no idea. "Yes," she said hopefully.

"Okay..." Dave sighed. "So what do you want to do?"

"Leave it to me," Ginny said impulsively. "I'll have the entire thing figured out and handed to you on a silver platter by Monday morning."

"Alright," Dave said skeptically. "If you're sure. I'll keep researching here."

"No, don't," Ginny said hurriedly. "Dave, have a weekend off!"

There was a pause, then a hesitant laugh. "Yeah..." he said. "I've had a bit of a week, I guess."

"Definitely," Ginny agreed enthusiastically. "So you'd best take tomorrow off while I do a bit of work for a change."

"Okay!" Dave chirruped, sounding positively cheerful. "Talk to you then!"

"Bye!" Ginny said hurriedly, hanging up the phone. Her mind was whirling with thoughts. She needed to call someone - someone who knew what they were doing! She picked up the handset and hit the speed dial. "Hi, Seamus!"

~ * ~ * ~

"Hey, Ginny!" Hannah greeted Ginny as she entered the Muggle Relations library at the Ministry of Magic. Ginny smiled back at the pretty blonde. "Big week, eh?"

"Something like that," Ginny said ruefully. "I am so sorry to ruin your Saturday night!"

"Nonsense," Seamus said dismissively, coming up behind Hannah and resting his arm on her shoulder. "The night has barely begun, it's only eight thirty."

Ginny laughed. "Party animal."

"Having said that, though," Hannah shot a look up at Seamus, "I do want to get to bed before the sun comes up so let's get started." She stepped up from under his arm. "Better not let Neville see you do that," she advised him.

Seamus laughed. "Ickle Nevvie! Where is he?"

"Home in bed," Hannah said darkly. "Where I will be going when you stop mucking about."

"Alright, alright!" Seamus held his hands up in mock protest. "I've already found something on the 'net that you guys should take a look at."

"The internet?" Hannah asked skeptically. "Yeah. Because you should believe everything that Muggles put on the internet."

"Not everything, Hannah," Seamus rejoined. "But some of it. Look at this." He led them over to a row of new computers and pointed at a spot on the screen. "Feeling The Energy - How Witches Cope," he read.

Twenty minutes later, Ginny was slack-jawed and Hannah was shaking her head. "Those Muggles," she kept repeating. "They may not know how to use magic but they can come bloody close!"

"Very close indeed," Seamus responded. "I reckon that Moonbird--"

"Moonfeather."

"--felt the left-over energy from You Know Who's spell," Seamus finished.

"We don't know that it was You Know Who," Ginny objected. "It was probably one of the Death Eaters."

"Whoever," Seamus said dismissively. "The spell was so awesomely powerful that the physical energy of the magic still lingers in his body. Unsurprising, really. Now- Ginny." He fixed his serious blue eyes on her. "You need to get the body and bring it in to us. It's obviously not going to be an easy one to smooth over the usual way."

"Oh, no, I can't," Ginny said, flabbergasted. "Dave will never let me take it."

Both Seamus and Hannah were looking at her intently now. "Ginny," Seamus repeated, "you have to take the body."

"No," Ginny repeated. "I can't. Dave needs answers."

Seamus looked troubled. Hannah laid her hand on Ginny's. "Memory charm," she said significantly.

"No!" Ginny said forcefully. "Not that. Not yet!"

Hannah sighed. "Ginny, you simply can't afford to get attached to every Muggle you work with."

"I know that," Ginny said, irritated. "I just don't want to do that to Dave. He would feel like there was a great answer missing from his life and would never be happy again, I just know it!"

"We have very sophisticated memory charms now," Seamus reminded her gently.

"I know, but--" Ginny felt close to tears. "Not yet. Please."

They both paused, throwing each other anxious looks. "Okay," Hannah finally said. "Well... let's fix this slowly. Let's go and see this Moonfeather tomorrow and see if we can't convince her, with or without magic, that what she felt was the result of an extremely well-advanced illness that we just discovered or something."

"D'you think that will work?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"No," Hannah said reasonably, glancing at Seamus. "But it's our only choice now." She stood up. "See you tomorrow."