White Noise

Chapter 4: A Beat in Time

Ginny stumbled to the door fairly blindly, not having thought to turn on the living room's lights. It was just as well though--she wanted to be able to fall right back to sleep after sending away whoever the drunk was that mistakenly believed he locked himself out of his flat.

She immediately regretted her decision to fling open the door without so much as looking through the peephole.

The man standing in front of her barely seemed a man, although she could tell they were around the same age.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

There was something about the way he was standing, half in the shadows and half in the dim hall light, that made her heart skip a beat.

He stuck out his hand, holding something out to her. She stared first at his hand, which was paler than a ghost's, and then at the thing he was holding. It was flopping about as if there was a breeze.

"Ain't you goin' to take it?" he asked in a bold accent.

She nodded and grabbed for it. He waited there while she ripped at it, tearing the envelope apart.

Ginny didn't know what she expected, but whatever it was, this was not it.

I'm sorry. I had to do it.

"Anythin' good?" he asked casually, even as he leaned over in an attempt to read it. She clutched it to her breast, refusing to allow him to read it.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded. Her whole body was shaking and suddenly she felt very unsafe. As if someone was watching her. Ginny forced herself to not look around the dark hall, instead focusing on the man in front of her.

"Who gave you this?" she repeated. She prayed she wouldn't start to cry. She was already feeling the tears prick at the back of her eyes.

He shrugged. "Don't know. They just gave it to me and told me to bring it to..." he peered around the open door, "to flat 3C. You are flat 3C, right?" he asked, arching his eyebrows in her direction.

She nodded, feeling numb as if she'd just heard of Harry's death...she looked back down at the letter.

"Listen, lady, I jus' moved here from Brooklyn. I needed the money, so I do what the guy asks, okay?" he told her rather defensively.

She nodded absently. I'm sorry. I had to do it.

When she looked up, the messenger was gone.

***

Ginny woke up the next morning, cuddling the letter at her chest. For a moment she was disoriented enough to not know where she was at. It took a minute of blinking for her to remember the night before and when she did, she rather wished she had something akin to twelve-hour amnesia. She simply did not want to think of that damned letter.

She glanced down at the paper in her hands. She didn't have to open it to remember what it said: I'm sorry. I had to do it.

Had to do what? Chills ran up and down her spine, just thinking about what the penmen was implying. Harry's death was an accident. The autopsy report had proved that. Was this note implying something different?

The mantel clock started chiming then. She counted to nine and shot to her feet, dropping the letter to the floor in her haste. She was going to be late to work!

Oh, hell. She already was late to work.

Forgetting all about the letter, or at least pushing it to the back of her mind enough to get ready, she had yesterday's work robes pressed and her hair magicked into some semblance of a braid within fifteen minutes.

She quickly locked her apartment door behind her and flew down the steps.

***

Ginny caught a cab to the Liaisons Building. It would mean that she would be later still, but it was all for the best: she needed time to figure out an excuse for her lateness.

Les probably wouldn't care and in case he did, she knew that if she absolutely had to, she could take advantage of Les's kindness (which she usually never allowed herself to do). No, the excuse she needed was for Malfoy.

She rubbed her temples wearily, already remembering the events of last night and letting them cloud her judgment. I'm sorry. I had to do it. She shoved the letter from her mind once again. She told herself she needed to focus on her excuse.

Maybe she could tell Draco...Draco? Maybe she could tell Malfoy she was simply sickened by the thought of working with him today...? She chuckled. She couldn't tell him that, but she needed something to placate him and keep him off of her. Something told her that a simple, "Sorry. I overslept," wouldn't cut it for him.

"Is here alright, Miss?" the cabbie asked her, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

Ginny looked out her window and noticed for the first time that it was gray and drizzly outside. Matching her mood quite well, she thought sardonically. It was a long walk to the front doors through the rain.

She nodded anyway, thinking of the way Harry embraced the rain.

"Yes, this is fine," she said briefly.

Ginny handed the man the Muggle money he was owed and thanked him before trudging to the front door. Giving her signature flick of the wand, she was promptly let in.

The hall was cleared of its usual hubbub and Ginny was embarrassed to hear how loudly her heels clacked against the polished floor. A few curious coworkers poked their head out their doors; some of them smiled tightly at her, while others gave her a disgusted look. As far as she was concerned, she couldn't have interrupted too serious of work, being that it wasn't quite ten in the morning.

She made it to her office, stopping outside the door. Malfoy was there, of course, seated in his chair. He was leaning back, with his hands locked at the back of his head. His eyes appeared to be closed. If he's sleeping, he can't dare chastise me for being late!

The second she turned the doorknob, he opened one of his eyes, looking to see who the intruder was.

A permanent scowl was on her face as she walked in. She didn't acknowledge him in the least.

"You're late," his icy voice finally cut into the air.

She shrugged and ripped open her top desk drawer at the same time. "Good observation," she answered irritably.

Ginny felt, or rather heard him stand. The air in the room seemed to be drenched with tension and she could feel his presence looming over her. Well, he wasn't above trying to intimidate her, she thought huffily.

Then, suddenly, his mouth was moving next to her ear. "Why?" he asked quietly, lowly.

She jumped, and turned her head to look better at him, bumping noses with him in the process. Draco immediately straightened himself and Ginny stood up close to him to show him she wasn't intimidated. "That's none of your business now, is it?"

The stood silently facing off until a knock on their door broke their concentration. It was Les, followed by Dakotah. If either of them noticed the tension that Ginny felt she was drowning in, they didn't make mention of it.

Dakotah looked back and forth between the two partners, and Ginny could sense her questions, but before she was able to say anything, Les spoke up. "I wanted to let you two know, especially you Ginny, that I'll be going away on business for the next week or so. Until I return, I've asked Dakotah to oversee the office."

Dakotah beamed at them.

Ginny felt the air leave her in one big whoosh!

Les put a beefy, round arm around Dakotah's shoulders and gave her a friendly squeeze. Ginny couldn't help but feel a bit jealous: she'd worked hard for a promotion of some sort only to have...to have what? To have Harry die; leaving her heart bleeding and wounded so that she couldn't get out of bed for two weeks straight?

She'd worked hard only to have her career be flushed down the toilet, along with all of her dreams; all of their plans?

Les's next words went right through her, as she was busy suppressing her temper. She knew she shouldn't be mad at Dakotah. Dakotah had worked very hard for her position.

"I'd like for you to go too, Ginny," Les said loudly, interrupting Ginny's thoughts.

She nodded and then glanced over to Malfoy, who was looking smug toward her.

"Great!" Les said with a smile. He clapped his hands together and rubbed them rather maniacally. "You two will be leaving in a fortnight then, alright?"

Blinking wildly, Ginny struggled to comprehend what Les just said. She wisely kept her mouth shut though, and as soon as Les had shut the door behind him and Dakotah (after once again reminding her to come to him with any questions or concerns that she might have) she spun around to glare at Draco.

"What in the hell did I just agree to?" she hissed, stabbing her pointer finger into his chest.

He smirked. "Going away with me."

She physically felt her face blanch. Her mouth dropped wide open. "You're joshing me, right?"

Draco gave her a look, which she thought might have been the closest thing she'd ever seen on him resembling a smile. Or a laugh.

When she realized he was being serious, she flipped him the bird and dropped to her chair. Screw him, she thought angrily. She hadn't meant to agree to go anywhere with him; she'd just talk to Les in the morning and get this terrible misunderstanding straightened out.

For the rest of the day she didn't move from her chair.

***

Draco looked over to where Ginny sat for the umpteenth time since she'd flipped him off. Her back was to him so he couldn't see her facial features, but if the squared set of her shoulders were any indication of how she felt, she wanted to hex him back at least a century or two.

He had known since before he'd come home to England that they would be traveling together. It wasn't his ideal vacation...or prison sentence...but he'd accepted it in record time; having gotten over the fact that he'd be in close quarters with Potter's widow in two days. It shouldn't take her much longer then that to get past it, he decided.

On the other hand, she didn't really know why they were leaving; Les had made sure of that. She didn't know she'd be helping Draco solve the mystery shrouding Harry's murder. Ginny, he knew, didn't know he'd been hired for two reasons: to find Harry's murderer and, at the same time, keep her safe. If their suspicions were correct, Ginny was also a target. Not because she was Harry's wife, but because she was a caser.

Before Les had contacted him, Draco didn't know anything about casing, nor did he care. He hadn't realized how dangerous a job it was. A caser knew things about crimes committed before they even happened, knew what it was like to be the person murdered or severely injured before the victims themselves did. Because of all that knowledge and experience, casers definitely weren't a criminal's favorite opponents.

Protecting her (probably) freckled arse was most likely going to be more difficult than it was worth, given the spiteful interaction they had had in the past few days. She was fiery, he'd noticed. He detested women with spirit.

Stealing another glance at her, he found his nose wrinkling. Really, did she have to look like a common Muggle today? Aside from the robes she wore, one would never know she was a witch capable of making herself look better than she did this particular day.

If they were going away together, he'd have to make sure she dressed better. Or at least, get her hair fixed, he decided, cocking his head to the side, studying her hair, which was falling out of an already haphazard plait.

His eyes narrowed to silver slits. She was a Weasel, but he couldn't remember her ever looking quite so harrowed as she did this morning. She'd slept later than usual, he figured.

But why? Draco focused his attention on her braid, noting the blonde highlights for the first time. He didn't remember whether or not she'd had them during their Hogwarts years, nor did he care.

Idly, he wondered what had kept her up last night. Did she, perhaps, have a nightmare? Maybe she dreamt something on a case? Was it Harry? Draco sneered. Why anyone would waste their time thinking on Harry Potter, he didn't know. Les had told Draco Ginny didn't suspect a thing about her husband's death but Draco had to wonder.

What would have kept her awake at night?

Draco's nose wrinkled. He really didn't wish to think about what kept her awake at night.

"What?" Ginny snapped.

Draco, startled, raised his eyebrows. He was quick to regain a stoic face although it didn't matter; her back was still to him. "Excuse me?" he drawled lazily.

"You're watching me, aren't you?" she sneered. "Well, what the hell do you want?"

Draco just about choked on his tongue. He couldn't remember ever being called on like that from a Weasley. Apparently she was more astute then her brother. "Nothing," he replied rather soberly.

Ginny spun around in her chair and Draco met her eyes evenly, although something in the way she was looking at him made his heart stop, for just a moment's time. She tipped her head to the side and seemed to be considering something.

Managing to look back at her without breaking eye contact was difficult but somehow he managed to do it. He gave her a look that pointedly challenged: "Yes?"

"You're despicable," she finally answered, as if she'd made up her mind on whether or not he could handle such a slight.

Draco opened his mouth to reply but not quick enough.

She'd already turned around and harrumphed so loudly he knew not to bother her. Not that he wanted to.

***

Immediately after work, Ginny Apparated to the Burrow, missing her mum and family more then she had realized.

Molly welcomed her with open arms.

Two hours later, Ginny was still lying on the broken down sofa that had been in the middle of the Weasley living room since before she could remember. Her head was in her mother's lap.

Her sobs had long receded into soft sniffles. Her eyes were swollen, her nose was red and still drippy and her throat hoarse from all the crying, and yet she felt better than she had in ages.

"There, there," Molly whispered, her fingers kneading Ginny's temples softly. "It will all be alright, love," she added gently.

Ginny made a non-committal movement. How could she tell her mum that no, not every thing was going to be alright?

She sat up, bumping her mother's hand from her head. She sniffed and wiped at her nose with her hand. "You have no idea, Mum," she whispered painfully.

Molly wiped at her daughter's tears with her thumb.

"In two weeks time I've got to go away with Draco Malfoy," she said in a low voice. Molly's hand stilled but her kind eyes didn't look away from her only daughter.

"Mum, he was hired to take...to take...well, to take his place," she informed her mother. "What am I going to do?" she asked then. Ginny's brown eyes searched out her mother's for a long moment.

Molly placed her hand on the back of her daughter's head, pulling her into a warm embrace. "You, my dear one, are going to continue to go on. It's what Harry would have wanted," she acknowledged, her lips gently brushing against her daughter's hair as she spoke.