Breakfast at Natalie's

When it was nearly seven, Malfoy Apparated to the address Amy had written down for him in her bubby handwriting. She emerged wearing a low-cut, electric blue t-shirt, tight jeans, and dangerously high-heeled shoes. Her hair was loosely waved and pinned up, and she smelled of warm vanilla.

"Ready then?"

"Of course," she giggled, batting her mascara-coated eyelashes at him as she put on her coat. She reminded him vaguely of Pansy Parkinson.

"Right. So we'll be Apparating. I think Side-Along is best." He offered her his arm. She latched onto him and he tried to ignore how uncomfortably close they were. A moment later, they were outside Mackinnon's. Charlie was still at the table and gave him a slight nod of acknowledgment. Malfoy purposely asked to be seated along the side wall so that he could have an unobstructed view of the restaurant and bar; Charlie would keep an eye on the back. He and Amy perused their menus and both ordered grilled fish and wine to go with it.

"This is a nice spot," said Amy, as the waiter poured her a glass of wine. "Do you come here often?"

"Not especially." He tasted his wine and set it down with a satisfactory clink. He let his eyes wander, searching for any suspicious movements. So far, nothing.

"You know, I think you're really cute," purred Amy, leaning towards him.

"Um, thanks?" He tried to avoid looking down her shirt, but it was difficult, as she was practically thrusting her chest in his face. He could see the lace of her bra peeking out. Uncomfortable, he looked away quickly.

She reached out for his hand and held it in hers, turning it over. He held back a flinch. "You're not married," she said, surprised.

"No," he said, "I'm not." Why did everyone have to point this out to him? It wasn't as if he didn't know.

The waiter came back with their food, and Malfoy suddenly realized that he wasn't hungry. He poked uninterestedly at the fish with his fork and realized that Amy had just asked him a question.

"Is there something wrong with it?" she asked. "Is it too tough? I think mine's a little burnt--"

"No, the fish is fine," he answered, setting down his fork and taking a sip of wine. His palms were so sweaty that he nearly dropped the glass. His heart pounded wildly and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "It's just..." He couldn't get the words out. Suddenly, he felt like he was going to vomit, and he sprinted towards the men's bathroom in the back.

He pushed open the door and bent over the sink, his chest heaving. Thankfully, the bathroom was empty. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned on the faucet, watching the water mix with wine, swirling and disappearing down the drain. He dabbed a damp paper towel against his burning forehead.

"Draco?" The door swung open and Charlie was standing next to him at the sink. "Are you alright? What happened? You look pale."

"I'm fine," he said, his voice even. "It was...a panic attack."

"A panic attack?" Charlie looked confused.

"Yeah, you know, when you get all clammy and you feel like something bad is going to happen."

"Sounds like you're just nervous about your date," said Charlie, winking at their reflection in the mirror.

"Maybe," said Malfoy, managing a weak smile. He tossed the used paper towel into the trash. "I should go...I don't want her--Amy--to worry."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, pushing open the door.

"Okay," said Charlie, following him back into the restaurant. "Have fun," he said, clapping Malfoy on the back.

"Yeah. I will." He went back to his table and slid into the seat.

"Oh, God," said Amy. "There you are. I was starting to get worried. What happened?"

"I was feeling a little ill," he admitted. "I'm alright now."

"Are you sure?" she said worriedly. "We can totally reschedule this if you want."

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. He didn't even want to consider the possibility of having to do this all over again. It wasn't that she wasn't a nice person; he just didn't think she was his type. "I'm fine. Really." He smiled convincingly.

She smiled back at him, her white, even teeth glowing at him in the semi-darkness of the restaurant. "I'm glad you invited me," she said sincerely.

"Oh," he said, caught off guard. "I...I'm glad too."

The waiter came around to refill their glasses and take their plates. He looked disdainfully at Malfoy's nearly untouched fish.

"Would you like dessert?" asked Malfoy, addressing Amy.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly. I'm so full," she said, rubbing her completely flat stomach to emphasize her point. "But...I guess it wouldn't hurt to look at the menu." She winked at him. The waiter handed her a small menu and she looked over it for a minute. "I think...I'll have the raspberry tart," she said finally.

"And you, sir?"

"I'll pass," said Malfoy, handing back the menu. "But thanks."

The raspberry tart came, looking scrumptious on its delicate, white plate with artfully drizzled chocolate and fresh raspberries on the side.

"That looks good," he said, watching as she scooped into it with her spoon.

"Want a taste?" she said, offering him the first bite.

"I..."

"Go on," she said, holding the spoon out to him. "Have a bite."

He leaned forward and she slipped the spoon into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed slowly, savoring the tanginess of the raspberry.

"Do you like it?" she asked, bringing the spoon to her own mouth, purposely making sure that her lips touched where his had.

"It's good," he said.

"Just 'good'? Not 'delicious'?" she said teasingly, her bright eyes not leaving his face as she took another luxurious bite.

"It's fabulous," he said, and they both laughed.

When she finished dessert, he paid for dinner and helped her put her coat on. He glanced at Charlie, who nodded at him. They Apparated back to her apartment.

"Why don't you come inside?" she said, shedding her coat.

"Oh, um, okay," he said, stepping across the threshold and shutting the door behind him to keep out the wintry chill.

"Sit down," she said, motioning towards the couch. "I'll get us a drink.

"It's okay," he said. "We just had wine. I don't want to be any trouble."

"It's no trouble," she said, pulling two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator and popping the caps off. "I only have beer right now. I hope that's okay."

"It's fine," he said, as she handing him a bottle. "Thank you."

"God," she said, kicking off her high heels, "these shoes kill my feet."

"Then why do you wear them?" he asked.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "To look nice, I guess."

"The things women do for beauty..." he muttered, gulping a mouthful of beer. The alcohol on an empty stomach was making him feel slightly tipsy.

"For men," she corrected, resting her head on his shoulder. He stiffened unintentionally, but she didn't seem to notice. "The point of looking pretty is to attract men."

"I don't think women have to wear painful shoes to look beautiful."

"You don't?" she asked, turning to look up at him.

"No," he said honestly. "I think...I don't think people are beautiful or ugly based on what they're wearing. That's superficial. It's more like personality, or their soul, whatever you want to call it."

She looked at him admiringly. "It's nice to hear a guy say that. Most of them just want to look down my shirt or sleep with me. I've only ever dated one other guy who's said that."

"Who was it?"

"He's gone," she said simply, curling up against his side. They spent the next few minutes in silence, listening to each other's rhythmic breathing. She shifted her position and he glanced down on his watch and swore.

"Hmm?" she murmured.

"I have to go," he said, suddenly unwilling relinquish her warm weight against him.

"Where?" she said, sitting up, her blonde hair spilling out of its up-do. "It's nearly ten o'clock at night."

"I promised I'd meet my friend," he said, thinking of Charlie alone at the restaurant.

"Oh," she said, sounding disappointed. "Can't you stay for a little longer?"

"I'm sorry," he said, standing up. "I really can't. It's for work."

"For work?" she said, surprised. "You're working this late?"

"An Auror's gotta do, what an Auror's gotta do," he said, retrieving his coat.

"Well, thank you," she said, following him to the door. "I had a lovely time."

"I had a nice time too," he said. "Maybe we should do this again sometime."

"I'd like that," she said softly, placing her hand on his chest. "I'd like that."

She leaned toward him, standing on her tiptoes, and brushed her lips against his. His first instinct was to pull back.

"I can't," he protested.

"Shh, don't say anything," she said, tracing her finger along his lips. She kissed him tenderly, her lips massaging his. He kissed her back, one hand tangled in her hair, feeling uninhibited and free. When they finally broke apart, he found that he was breathing hard.

"I have to go," he repeated.

"I'll see you at work then?" she said, opening the door for him.

"Yeah," he said. "See you."

--------------------------

"What took you so long?" asked Charlie, as Malfoy sat down across from him. "I thought you weren't coming back."

"Sorry," he said. "I took her back to her apartment."

"And stayed for nearly an hour?" said Charlie skeptically. "What were you really doing?"

"Really, I took her back to her apartment, and well, we each had a beer and we talked...and...she kissed me."

"Hmph," grunted Charlie. "About time, too."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You need a girlfriend, Draco. Just admit it." Charlie leaned back in his chair. "You're what, twenty seven now? You're a total workaholic, you have two women living with you and you're not sleeping with either of them--"

"--one of them is my sister. And you know about Hermione."

"It's just...weird." He sighed.

"Well, I'm just not ready," said Malfoy. He tapped his fingers on the table. "There's nothing here. Maybe we should go. You know, head to the BR?"

"Yeah," agreed Charlie. "It's probably more likely that whoever we're looking for would be at a bar anyway."

They stepped out onto the street, the wind battering their faces.

"Let's walk," said Malfoy, buttoning up his coat tightly.

"Walk?" said Charlie incredulously. "It's pretty far."

"It's not that far."

"Well...it's cold."

"Charlie, you're dressed like a bloody Eskimo," said Malfoy, looking down at his friend's woolen attire.

"But I'm still cold," he complained.

"Just walk with me, Charlie, just walk with me."

They hunched up their shoulders against the cold and began to walk in the direction of the bar. The night was inky black, streetlights shining across the pavement to reveal the occasional patch of ice. They plodded along steadily, their footsteps echoing like gunshots.

"It's freezing," whined Charlie. "Are we almost there?"

"Nearly halfway," said Malfoy, his cheeks chafed and numbed by the cold. Abruptly, he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. He gestured for Charlie to keep quiet. Across the street from where they stood, two men were arguing.

"You sure this is the right place?"

"That's what the paper says, innit?"

Hidden in the shadows, Malfoy and Charlie watched them bicker some more and then finally disappear into the building.

"Let's go," whispered Malfoy, quickly placing a Disillusionment Charm on himself and Charlie. They crossed the street and silently crept up the stairs. The two men were just ahead of them , and Malfoy could hear their heavy breathing in the stairwell. Presently, they arrived at an apartment on the seventh floor. They positioned themselves as closely behind the men as they could without making their presence felt and followed them inside when the door opened.

The apartment was nicely furnished and quite tidy. Two men were already sitting at a glass coffee table. When they were all seated, one of the men spoke. "I called this meeting tonight to notify you of a state of emergency." He paused for effect. "We are being tracked by the authorities. Also, my wife is missing. She left me this." He slammed a crumpled piece of paper onto the table.

Malfoy stifled a gasp as the man shifted into the light so that his face was partially visible. My God, it's Joseph Whittaker! I knew there was something a bit off about him.

The other men leaned forward to read it.

"First, we must get rid of this new shipment as quickly as possible," said Joseph. "I ask each of you to contact your clients and urge them to buy as soon as they can. We cannot afford to have any evidence lying around."

"What about your wife?" asked the fat man. "Do you want us to look for her?"

"I know that it is highly irregular for me to bring my personal life into our business, but I feel that I need to teach her a lesson." The men snickered. "I want you to find her and bring her to me. Alive, of course."

"How?"

"Do whatever you must. I will be looking for her myself. Now, go. We cannot waste time."

The men stood up and dispersed. Malfoy and Charlie followed them out the door.

"We leave one at a time," said Joseph. His eyes lingered over the space where Malfoy stood, pressed against the wall. One by one, they got into taxis and left the building.

"What do you think of that?" asked Malfoy, removing the Disillusionment Charms. Charlie expelled the breath he'd been holding.

"Well, I think I can definitely say that those are the men we're supposed to be tracking down," answered Charlie. They began walking again. "That man, the one who was their leader, is he--"

"Hermione's husband? Yes," said Malfoy. Charlie's eyes widened. "She has no idea about all this."

"What are we going to do now?"

"Well, we did promise Kingsley we'd report if something came up."

"I don't think we should call him now," said Charlie. "You know how he hates taking phone calls."

"Owl then?" suggested Malfoy.

"I still don't think we should bother him. He'll probably yell at us. Maybe we should wait until morning."

"Then he'll yell at us for not telling him sooner. It's a lose-lose situation."

"Or how about this," said Charlie, stopping abruptly. "How about we don't tell him. At all."

"You're crazy," said Malfoy dubiously. "He'd definitely kill us."

"You know perfectly well that Kingsley would send practically the entire department after them, since we've pinpointed them now. I'm saying that we should just wait it out, gather more proof, and then call in for reinforcements."

"That's not going to work," said Malfoy, shaking his head.

"If we solve this by ourselves, we'll definitely be Aurors of the Year," said Charlie dreamily.

"Okay, fine," agreed Malfoy, imagining his own face on the wall in place of Potter's. "We'll try it your way. But right now I'm more worried about Hermione. You heard how they were planning to kidnap her."

"She spends all day in St. Mungo's. How are they going to get in if they're Muggles? They don't even know it exists," reasoned Charlie.

"I just have a bad feeling," said Malfoy.

"You just need some sleep," said Charlie. "Tell you what, why don't you just go home now? I'll stay at the bar, maybe have a couple drinks."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine. Go on home," said Charlie, waving him away. "See you in the morning."