A Quiet Life

A Quiet Life

By Cindale

Chapter 2

The man was lying on his back in the foyer of the Research Centre, apparently dead. Neville assumed he was dead because his eyes were frozen wide open in a look of terror and there was foam around his mouth. He looked around for help, but of course the Centre was empty as was usual on Saturday mornings. Panic settled into his stomach as he wondered what to do.

It finally occurred to Neville to contact the Ministry, so he went down the hall to the fireplace. "Er ... Ministry of Magic ... Auror Division," he said as he threw in the Floo powder. Of course, there probably wouldn't be anyone there on Saturday morning ...

"I'm sorry, there is no one available to take your call," said the same female voice from the visitor's entrance. "You are being diverted to the Auror on call."

Neville began to feel queasy as the spinning seemed to go on for an inordinate time. Finally, it stopped and he found himself looking into an opulently decorated living room. A frightened-looking house-elf peered at him for a moment, and then disappeared. "Hello?" Neville called. He was getting tired of sitting on his knees, and was beginning to feel impatient. "Hello?" he called a little louder.

"I'm coming - I'm coming," shouted a distant voice, and Neville cringed as he recognized it. He considered ending the call and contacting Harry or Ron instead, but then remembered that Ginny had spent the night in his flat, in his bed, in fact, and decided he'd rather face anyone else at the moment.

"Bloody hell, Longbottom! What are you doing here at this hour?" Neville had never seen Draco Malfoy look anything but perfect before, and he suddenly had the strange desire to laugh. Malfoy was tying a dressing gown over his bare chest, and his platinum blond hair was sticking out in all directions.

"Apparently you are the Auror on call," Neville said with raised eyebrows, hoping to convey his doubts about Malfoy fulfilling his duties in this state.

"So what?"

"There's a dead man here."

Malfoy muttered a few more curses and said, "Where are you?" Neville gave him the address. "Is anyone else there?"

"No, just me," Neville said, wondering if any of his co-workers would be in later.

"Are you expecting anyone else?"

"I doubt it," said Neville, shaking his head. "Not for awhile, anyway."

"Don't leave," Malfoy commanded. "I'll be there in ten minutes." His eyes glazed over a little and he smirked up toward the ceiling. "Make that twenty minutes. Don't touch anything. And don't let anyone else in."

Neville rolled his eyes, pulled his head out of the fireplace, and went reluctantly back to the foyer to join the dead man in waiting for Malfoy. He felt torn, because he would have preferred to work while he was waiting, but he felt oddly responsible for the man and thought he should watch over his body.

It suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea how this man had died. Neville had never seen him before, and wondered what he was doing at the Research Centre. What if he had been murdered? Could one of his co-workers have killed someone? What if the killer came back? The questions whirled around in his head, and he felt panic seeping into his stomach again.

After thirty minutes an insistent pounding interrupted his musings. He pulled himself up from the floor where he had been guarding the unknown man and let Malfoy in. "Thanks for enjoying a shag while I was sitting here wondering if I was going to be murdered," Neville said in a sarcastic tone.

"Where's your Gryffindor courage?" Malfoy said disparagingly as he approached the body. His eyes widened when he saw the dead man, but he recovered himself quickly.

"Do you know him?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Malfoy said with a sigh. "Do you?"

"I've never seen him before. Who is he?"

Malfoy gave him a long look, as if he were assessing his truthfulness. "Thurston Nott," he finally said. "Theodore's father." He picked up Nott's left arm, pushed up the sleeve, and showed Neville the Dark Mark. "He ran off during the Battle of Hogwarts. I wonder what he was doing back in Britain."

Neville didn't know what to say to that, so he watched silently as Draco performed several complicated-looking spells over the body. When he had finished, he walked over to stand right in front of Neville, a little too close for comfort, but the former Gryffindor held his ground.

"How did you know he had been murdered?" Malfoy asked in a soft voice, searching Neville's eyes with an unreadable expression.

"I didn't," said Neville honestly, jumping a little as if Malfoy had shouted. "You made me wait so long that my imagination got a little carried away. I had no idea."

"And if you did know something about it," Malfoy continued in that same soft voice that was a bit hypnotic, "you certainly wouldn't tell me, would you? I mean, who really cares about the murder of a Death Eater? They all deserved to die anyway, didn't they?"

Neville had always wondered why the Ministry had made Draco Malfoy an Auror, of all people, but now he was beginning to see that Malfoy might actually be good at his job. He had nothing to confess, however, so he drew himself up to his full height, which was still a good three inches shorter than Malfoy, and said, "I had nothing to do with it, Malfoy. I walked in here this morning, saw the body, and called you. I didn't even touch him."

"And what were you doing here?"

"I work here. I come in every day."

"Even Saturdays?"

"And Sundays, yes."

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at him, his professionally blank expression turning into a smirk. "Well, I guess you have to do something to make up for having no social life."

The Auror was really beginning to try Neville's normally long patience. "At least I don't shag everything that moves. What kind of social life is that, Malfoy?"

Malfoy's eyes blazed and his smirk disappeared. "I'm going to have to take you to Headquarters, Longbottom."

"Why? Because I stood up to you? Because I insulted you? I know you don't believe I had anything to do with this."

"Actually, I'm not sure what to believe," said Malfoy in the soft voice he had used before. "I know you're not afraid to kill if it suits your purpose, but I don't think you would be this good at lying."

Neville had nothing to say to that; he didn't like being reminded that he had killed before.

"Come on," barked Malfoy, turning away from him. "Don't make me take you in by force."

After they had Apparated to the Ministry and stowed the corpse on a table in a sterile-looking room, Neville followed Malfoy back to his cubicle. He sat in a chair in front of Malfoy's desk while the Auror scribbled on two pieces of parchment, sealed them in envelopes, and left for several minutes, presumably to send the missives. When he returned, Neville was beginning to feel very impatient.

"Why am I here?" he snapped at Malfoy. "You have no reason to hold me."

Malfoy waved his wand at a black box on his desk, and then asked, "What time did you leave the ball last night?"

Neville rolled his eyes and decided it would be easiest to submit to the questioning since he had nothing to hide. "Around eleven, I think."

"Where did you go?"

"Home."

"And where did you go after that?"

"I was home all night. I got up this morning around seven and went to the Research Centre around eight. You know what happened from there."

"I assume you were alone in your flat last night."

The question took Neville by surprise, but he realized that he should have expected it. Unfortunately, he did have something to hide.

"Actually - no. I wasn't alone."

"Who was with you?"

"I - I can't tell you that," Neville said, cringing a little.

"How do you expect me to confirm your alibi if you won't tell me who it is?" Malfoy said with a sceptical expression. "You're lying. You expect me to believe you actually got a woman to go home with you last night? I was with your date, so don't try to tell me it was her."

"You took ... wait - that was Rose this morning?" Neville asked in surprise. He felt a bit of righteous indignation for his co-worker, as if he were her older brother. "You know I'll kill you if you hurt her, Malfoy."

"Oh, brilliant, Longbottom. Threatening the Auror who's questioning you about a murder. This is being recorded, you know."

Neville's heart sank at his stupidity. "You know I didn't kill anyone, Malfoy. This is getting ridiculous."

"Tell me who you were with, Longbottom, or I'll assume you're lying and have no alibi. If you're lying about that, you could be lying about the murder as well."

Neville took a deep breath to keep himself from telling Malfoy exactly where he could put his theories. "I did not kill anyone. I was in my flat all night. Someone else was there. I'm not going to tell you who. If you want to throw me in Azkaban, fine, but please let me talk to Rose first so I can give her instructions about my plants."

Malfoy gazed at him with an unreadable expression, and Neville unwaveringly returned his stare until they both broke off to look for the source of approaching footfalls. Harry was hurrying toward them, eyes narrowed in anger, followed closely by Ginny. Neville started in surprise.

"Why did she tag along?" Malfoy asked Harry as they reached his desk. Ginny stepped in front of Harry and Neville tried to catch her eye, but she seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

"Ginny..." Neville said, but Ginny ignored him.

"Neville was home all night," she told Malfoy in a firm voice. "I was with him."

Malfoy stared at her in shock for a moment, and then looked at Neville and Harry in turn, apparently not sure whether to be outraged or amused. "Now I understand why you wouldn't tell me," he said quietly to Neville.

"Thanks, Ginny," Neville said, standing. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I ..." Ginny began, but Harry interrupted.

"TURN THAT DAMN RECORDER OFF! You don't need to record me beating Neville to a pulp!" He took a few menacing steps toward Neville and shouted, "I thought you were my mate! What were you doing with my girlfriend?"

"We didn't ..." Neville began, but Ginny stepped in front of him.

"You gave up your right to care where I spend my nights last night when you dumped me, Harry Potter!" she screamed into Harry's face, causing Harry to cringe. "You broke whatever flimsy commitment we had last night when you said there was someone else. I didn't break it - YOU did. And it certainly isn't Neville's fault. So BACK OFF!"

Neville watched as Harry's expression crumpled and he took a step backwards. He almost felt sorry for him; Ginny could be quite frightening, and he was very glad her anger wasn't directed at him. The break-up was clearly Harry's fault, but it suddenly occurred to Neville that Ginny had five brothers, all with much more volatile tempers than Harry. They would certainly hear that Ginny had spent the night in his flat ...

"This is an odd, not to mention loud, conversation for a murder case," said a deep voice from down the corridor. Kingsley Shacklebolt approached Malfoy's cubicle with an expression that held both irritation and amusement. "What's going on here, Malfoy?"

"Longbottom found a corpse this morning - it's in the examination room. We're establishing his alibi to rule him out as a suspect."

"And this involves Potter's and Weasley's relationship?"

"Yes," said Malfoy, his lip curling slightly. "Miss Weasley is Longbottom's alibi. His overnight alibi."

"Ah," Shacklebolt said sagely, nodding his head, his eyes taking in all the occupants of the cubicle. "I see. Well, I think you can handle this, Malfoy. I look forward to reading your report on Monday."

The Auror paused, and Neville looked around at the faces in the cubicle; Harry was staring at the floor, obviously still angry, Ginny was looking at Neville with a nervous expression, and Malfoy was looking at Harry with an oddly calculating gaze.

Shacklebolt smirked into the awkward silence. "Come on, Potter," he said. "Let's go and look at the crime scene."

As Harry slunk sullenly out of the cubicle, Malfoy said, "I'll be out there soon." Shacklebolt nodded once and followed Harry.

"Can I go now?" Neville asked Malfoy.

"No," said Malfoy. "I've got to finish this up. We wouldn't want people to accuse us of giving preferential treatment to a 'war hero', would we now?" He turned his gaze to Ginny. "You, however, may go." Ginny shrugged and turned to exit the cubicle, pausing briefly to give Neville a look that seemed almost pleading.

"I thought they'd never leave," Malfoy said rather absently as he scribbled on parchment. "Who's the head of the Research Centre?"

"Oh, Merlin, I never even thought to contact him! Ernest Martin."

"And who does he report to here at the Ministry?"

"Ralph Croaker," said Neville.

"Department of Mysteries?"

"The very same. It's all research, you know."

"No, I didn't know. What do they do up there?" Malfoy asked, leaning eagerly toward Neville.

"Is this part of my official questioning?"

"I was just curious," Malfoy said in a sullen tone. "Harry will never talk about it, either."

"It's not my most pleasant memory." Neville couldn't help glaring at Malfoy; his father was the one who had been in charge of the Death Eaters during that battle, and at one point had directly threatened Neville's life, even though Neville had only been fifteen years old. It was sometimes difficult to remember that Malfoy had turned away from his father's ideals, especially since he was still a prat.

"Here, sign this," Malfoy said, shoving the parchment toward him. Neville leaned over and peered at it.

"What am I signing?" he asked, skimming the document.

"It's a sworn statement of your whereabouts last night. I may have to get one from Ginny, but I doubt it. I don't think anyone is going to believe you killed Nott."

Neville wasn't sure what to say to that, so he settled for scribbling his name on the parchment.

"You know," said Malfoy as he stored the parchment carefully in his desk, "you would have been in a lot less trouble if you had just let me throw you in Azkaban for murder. Ginny let Harry think you shagged her last night, and she has five brothers. I don't envy you at all. I only wish I could watch when her brothers visit you this afternoon."

"Ta, Malfoy," Neville muttered as he turned to leave.

"You didn't really shag her, did you?" Neville stopped walking for a moment, decided not to respond, and then hurried down the corridor, but still heard Malfoy's voice calling, "I knew it!"