White Noise

Chapter 8: Femme Fatale

Two days later, Ginny and Malfoy were barely giving each other nods of acknowledgement. Since returning to the office, they hadn't spoken to each other unless they absolutely had to.

Dakotah had noticed immediately yesterday and pulled Ginny to the side.

"What's going on with you and Draco?"

Ginny bristled. "Nothing."

It was obvious Dakotah didn't believe her. "Aside from being your supervisor, I'm also your friend, Ginny. If there are any conflicts of interest between you and Draco, I'd like to know. Perhaps I can mediate?" she offered.

She couldn't help but shake her head to decline Dakotah's suggestion. "Malfoy being a prat isn't something that is fixable," she replied coolly.

And it wasn't, she thought again. He was rude, cold, and uncaring. He had always been, as far back as she could remember. He wasn't going to change, and Ginny accepted that. Hopefully, he would quit and then her life could return to normal.

There was a quiet knock on their door, followed by Dakotah, looking liking a queen, and Les, looking as dumpy as ever. She smiled fondly at her boss and he smiled back.

"I've reread the report that was written by you and Harry, Ginny. Are you sure you aren't missing anything?" Les asked kindly.

She knew her partner was watching her, and having him eyeing her like that was more irritating and disconcerting than one of the twins' pranks. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth before thinking. "With all due respect, Les, I'm not going to answer that until someone tells me what is going on."

Dakotah's eyebrows rose and Les's face turned red, probably because he was wheezing.

Ginny felt bad, but didn't back down.

Dakotah glanced at Malfoy and something resembling fury rose up in Ginny's chest. She had to shut her eyes and count to five to keep from yelling very loudly.

"What do you mean?" Dakotah asked, her gaze returning to Ginny.

Ginny ignored her; she looked toward Les instead. As far as she was concerned, Les was her only supervisor. She was being mean, but Dakotah was looking at Malfoy again and that too made her angry.

"What I mean is, what the hell was I supposed to be doing there? There wasn't a murder... hell, there wasn't even a crime scene!" she explained.

Les looked pale while Dakotah watched her wearily.

"You're asking too many questions," Dakotah finally said. Her voice was quiet, and to Ginny, it seemed as if she was daring her to argue.

Ginny peered at Dakotah closely. It might have been just her imagination, but Dakotah had been acting differently as of late; she'd been looking at Draco more often than Ginny would have liked.

Dakotah's head turned up into Draco's general direction; Draco took a couple of small steps away from her. It may have been amusing if Ginny wasn't so hard-pressed to figure out what Dakotah was playing at. They were friends, true, but Ginny had learned long ago that it didn't matter who was your friend and who wasn't: you were careful either way.

Ginny took a step toward Dakotah. Peeved at her for having said she asked too many questions, and even more so for apparently forcing herself on Draco, she shrilled, "I'm asking too many questions? I've asked one question, Dakotah! One!" She held up her index finger. "I didn't think that was too much to ask!"

When Dakotah didn't say anything, Ginny went on. "But I do have another question for you: why are you throwing yourself at my partner when he so obviously doesn't want anything to do with you?" she asked spitefully, not being able to control herself.

Stepping forward rather meekly, Les cleared his throat. "Ginny, we all know you've been under pressure lately and so I'll forgive you for your outburst, but I must request you keep your tongue in check from now on, Ginny."

"Excuse me?" She could hardly believe what Les was telling her. He had never once told her to keep herself in check before. She was mortified.

Les nodded empathetically. "I know I've never asked you to reign in your emotions before and I don't like to do it now, but... it's for your own good, Ginny. It really is. A fortnight from now is the Hogwarts Gala; I expect you to be there with a smile."

The floor dropped out from below her. "I'm not going," she managed weakly. She'd been telling people that for the past two days. She was not going.

His smile said he understood. "Ginny," he started pleasantly. "You have to be there. Your husband will be celebrated, as will the lives lost eight years ago. It is the most important event in the wizarding world since the Final Battle," he explained.

She wanted to respond, to argue, but her brain simply refused to wrap itself around Les's words.

Dakotah was nodding with Les's words.

Ginny was dumbfounded. She was cornered. She couldn't remember feeling like this-- not since she was a girl.

"The most important wizards and witches of the time will be there, Ginny," Dakotah intervened with a smile. "Why, Hermione and Ron will be there, too!"

Why does everyone think I'll do whatever Hermione and Ron do?

"Yes, I know," she muttered weakly.

"Draco didn't want to go but he's decided to," she said brightly.

Ginny glared at her supervisor. "You're not helping your case any," she grumbled.

"Ginny," Les began, placing a beefy hand on her shoulder, "it will be alright. It really will."

Doubtful.

"For now though, how about you go home? You're tired," he said sympathetically. His smile was reassuring. "Go home and take a nap. Read a book."

Normally, Ginny would have argued with Les but as it was, she wanted to be alone. She felt like the three of them were suffocating her and she was sure she would go mad if she had to stay in this office a moment longer.

After Les and Dakotah left, Ginny didn't waste time in putting her things away: the records she was keeping on the two days in Nottingham, as well as the picture she'd found herself looking at again. We all looked so happy.

She walked out of her office without a parting word in her partner's direction.

***

The first thing she noticed upon reaching her hall was the thing lying directly in front of her door; the second thing she noticed was red stain on the thing.

Her fingers were shaking ever so slightly as she reached down to pick it up. The stain was indiscernible even up close. Dread filled her. She didn't have to open the parchment or even read it to know what it said, or at the very least, to know what it was referring to.

I'm feeling guilty. Won't you forgive me?

***

An hour after the office had been locked, the lights shut off or in some cases, dimmed, Draco was still hunched over his work, studying the reports Potter had left of those crime scenes. He was sure Weasley or Potter or whatever-name-she-went-by didn't know these reports even existed.

Potter had written them in the weeks before his murder.

There were obvious similarities between the two reports, but Weasley's was written on a broader scope, mentioning the crime scene as a whole, not the little details. Potter's, on the other hand, recalled the way the wind was blowing that night and each sound, even that of a cricket chirping. But there was nothing in either report alluding to the fact that Potter had been set-up and then followed like there had been in the other two cases.

Draco rubbed his eyes wearily. He was very tired: it had been a long day.

In the silence, every sound was discernible, to the buzz of the fluorescent lights to the clacking of heels down the hall and finally, the turn of the doorknob.

He sat there quietly, and didn't tense in the least bit when soft, overtly feminine hands slid across his shoulders. "I would have thought you'd be long gone by now," Dakotah's familiar voice echoed in his ears.

She began kneading his shoulders, working at the knots that were there. He groaned; it felt so good.

"Are you always so tense?" she murmured, her voice as loud as a bullhorn's in the dead silence.

"Since coming to work here, yes," he returned shortly.

When her hands, stronger than he would have imagined, traveled from his shoulders to his crown, he sucked in a deep breath sharply. His eyes, traitors of their own accord, shut and he allowed himself to get lost in the sensations her fingertips were creating.

It wasn't long until her fingers had slipped to his neck, creating swirls of tension up and down his body.

He soon found himself facing her, his hands on her hips while she kissed his forehead, then each cheek and finally his nose.

Draco stood up so that he might get a better grip on her. They straightened together and it wasn't long before his arms were wrapped around her and her kiss deepened on his lips with a blistering heat.

"Stop!" He broke away from her dispassionately. As slow as his mind was at the moment, he knew this was not what he needed, no matter how much he wanted it.

Dakotah's eyes darkened and her lips came together in a pout.

Heat raced through his veins.

"You don't mean that, do you Draco?" she quizzed softly, an amused glint in her eyes. Her hands fell from the back of his neck to his chest, working deftly at the buttons of his shirt.

The top clasp came apart and then the second and third. Draco closed his eyes as the air-conditioned breeze of the room met his warm skin. She kissed the skin covering his breastbone. Her tongue pressed against his skin and gooseflesh flared everywhere.

"How many more times can you refuse me?" she whispered, her voice a million miles from where he was now.

Draco somehow knew this evening would be the first time he gave into her.

His mind was swimming as her hands slipped lower to the crotch of his trousers. The sound of them unzipping was lost beneath their heady breaths.

She smiled vixen-like and kissed him, pulling him deeper into the cavernous lust she had created.

***

Ginny had tried concentrating on anything but the short note and had ended up breaking a piece of her favorite china set in the process.

"Goddammit!" she cursed, scrambling to her knees to wipe the broken pieces toward her. She would do a repairing charm, but not before she found all the glass.

Won't you forgive me?

She rocked back on her feet, landing on her bottom with a hard thud. Ginny stared helplessly at the ceiling. She knew she would have to tell someone about the letter: as much as she tried denying the fact after the first one, she wasn't able to deny it any further.

The problem was, she didn't have anyone to turn to.

Oh, she knew her mum and dad would listen, they always did. Ron and Hermione, they would listen too. Really, any of her family would listen. And then they would want blood.

She sighed. That was where the problem lay. For a thing like this she needed someone clear-headed and calm. Someone who could stay cool under the harshest of circumstances, in case this got sticky.

Ginny hated to admit it, but what she needed--no, whom she needed--was someone like Malfoy.

Truly, she despised herself for even thinking of him at a time like this.

She left the broken dinner plate on the floor, stood up and stretched. Then she rubbed her cheeks with her hands wearily.

I'm feeling guilty. Won't you forgive me?

"No," she announced firmly, an answer to a person who wasn't there. A person she had never seen. "No, I will not forgive you," she added more firmly.

She massaged her temples, her eyes glazing over to a place far, far away. "Who are you?"

Ginny pointed her wand over to the shabby briefcase she sometimes carried with her and it flew over to her. The lid flew open and she dug through the messy, scattered papers knowing she had put that first note in it.

"Dammit!" she said angrily, having not found it.

After some quick thinking and eliminating a couple of possibilities, she realized she had taken the parchment out that morning, shortly after arriving at the office. She must have stuffed it into her top desk drawer.

She needed that note.

Although it was against company policy (though not punishable), Ginny decided to go back to the office. She glanced at the wall clock that hung over her seldom-used stove. It was closing in on seven o'clock. "Oh, bugger it," she muttered. So what if the office has been closed for nearly two hours?

She made up her mind then: she would take a quick peek into the top drawer of her desk and if the note was there, fine. If not, well, then she'd obviously left it somewhere else.

***

Early on in her career with the Liaisons office, Les had given Ginny her own 'key' per say: another flick of her wand that would allow her, and only her, into the building after hours. So getting inside wasn't a problem.

Although it wasn't her first time in the building after hours, Ginny couldn't help but feel a tad nervous.

The stillness of the building reverberated through her.

Fondly, she remembered the last time she'd been here after closing.

"Shh, Harry! We're going to get caught!" she admonished. She was trying to be serious but couldn't keep the giggle in her throat. She let out a great, happy laugh as Harry kissed the spot just below her ear.

"You know," his eyes were sparking seductively, "I've always wanted to shag you in the office."

Ginny's mouth dropped open.

He waggled his eyebrows in her direction. "Well? What do you think, Mrs. Potter?"

Laughing, she swatted him away with her. "Get off of me, Harry! If my husband knew...well, we'd be the biggest scandal in the wizarding world."

He kissed her soundlessly. "You are so...hot." His breath was hot and sexy against her.

Ginny was losing herself to him despite the best of her intentions.

And somehow, they had ended up naked and shagging on the waiting room floor.

She blinked in order to bring herself back to reality. Of course, she had stopped right in front of the waiting room. Ginny shook her head and hurried to her office, swinging the door open before she had the chance to notice the light was still on.

"Shit, Ginny!" a venomous voice shouted while an ultra-feminine voice yelped.

"Oh Merlin," she groaned weakly, taking in the scene.

Her partner was standing at the window, clad only from the waist down while their supervisor... well, Ginny wasn't totally sure what she was wearing.

Draco hastily pulled on his shirt, which had been draped over the back of Ginny's chair and then turned on her. "What the hell are you doing here at this time?" he hissed.

Only after a moment of letting his words sink in was she able to respond. "What am I doing here?" she reiterated. "What am I doing here? I think I ought to ask you the same question, but I'm sure I already know the answer!" she defended.

"Don't turn this on me," Draco growled. "You're the one here after hours!"

Ignoring Dakotah's affronted whispers, Ginny brushed past Draco, making a beeline for her desk. "I'm here on business," she stated loudly. "What are you here on?" she challenged.

Ginny noticed the irate glare he sent in Dakotah's way. "I was just leaving."

"Typical man," Ginny shot back.

She pulled out the familiar, now wrinkled parchment. "Aha! I found what I came here for." She went to the doorway, but Draco blocked her way. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked statuesque at the moment. "Get out of my way, Draco," she ordered.

"What's that?" he asked, directing both of their interest to the parchment.

Ginny felt her hand automatically squeeze around it and she heard the paper crinkle. "Never mind. Just let me leave."

For a moment, she was sure he would argue with her and was relieved, although almost saddened, when he didn't. Instead, his arms dropped from across his chest and he stepped out into the hall in front of Ginny.

She was just about to the waiting room when he caught up with her.

Before he could ask her to stop, she turned and faced him. "Yes?" she asked. She pushed back at her hair furiously; it never did stay out of her eyes.

"What if I said it's not what it looked like?"

Her eyes narrowed and she sized him up. "I would say that's bullshit."

Draco backed away from her, putting a hand through his hair. "That's fair."

"No, Draco, I would say that is more than fair. That's the truth." She threw a disdainful look to the end of the hall, where she knew Dakotah was waiting for Draco. That thought made her crosser still. She jerked her head up, so that she might again look Draco in the eye.

He is so tall. Not as tall as Ron but definitely taller than Harry.

"Well now, I'm about finished here, Draco. Goodnight." The smile she gave him was one of bitterness.

She almost hoped he would call her back to him as she walked away, but her footsteps were only met with a fading echo.

***

Draco watched her go: it seemed to him he was always watching her go. There was something quite unsettling about that revelation. So unsettling, he nearly called out after her, and then he remembered that Malfoys did not call out after anyone, certainly not a Weasley.

Dakotah sidled up next to him. He felt her breath against his jaw and steeled himself for her attack.

She began stroking his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt. "We can take this back to my place, there won't be any more unwanted visitors," she murmured suggestively.

He grabbed her hands and pushed them away from him. "No, Dakotah." He looked down at her open face. She doesn't even know what she saw.

The blonde was much more perceptive than she appeared to be at the moment. "But I thought you said--?"

He pushed her away. "Stop it Dakotah," he demanded crossly.

She pressed her lips together and stepped away from him, looking livid. "If that's what you want."

Draco couldn't help his wandering eyes. He answered her, looking to the same door Ginny had just walked out of. "It's what I want."