Breakfast at Natalie's

Early the next morning, Joseph sat at the foot of the lumpy mattress, staring at the piece of paper on which he had convinced Hermione to write down Malfoy's phone number.

"What do you want it for?" she had asked, suspicious.

"I'm going to call him to tell him where you are," he'd answered calmly.

"And why would you want to do that?"

"I want what's best for you," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. She flinched. "And this obviously isn't."

She snorted in contempt. "Right. So you realize that now."

"Better late than never," replied Joseph. "May I have the number then?"

"Fine," she said, scribbling Malfoy's mobile number on a scrap of paper, "but I still don't trust you."

Now Joseph was deciding whether to call or not. Should he give Malfoy more time to panic? No, that probably wasn't wise, he figured. The bloke was angry enough already; he'd probably come after them if he got tired of waiting. So Joseph picked up the phone and dialed. Two rings...of course, it was absurdly early in the morning...four rings...

"Hello?" said a voice at the other end. Joseph could hear papers being shuffled and voices arguing in the background. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"This is Joseph," he said.

"Jo--will you be quiet back there? I'm taking a call!"

Joseph cleared his throat. "I'm sure you are aware by now of Hermione's situation--"

"I'm as sure as hell aware of her bloody situation," spat Malfoy, his voice trembling with fury. "You bastard--"

"Mr. Malfoy?" A scrawny wizard wearing glasses and a purple robe entered the room clutching a folder, looking extremely hassled. "Here's the information you asked for on Joseph Whitt--"

"I'm on the phone!" he yelled.

"But, sir, this is important--"

"Can it possibly be as important as this phone call? I'm talking to Joseph Whittaker right now, so WILL YOU QUIT INTERRUPTING?"

"Sir," said the man in a tiny voice, "the files say that he's a --"

"I don't care if the files say his father is Bertie Bott!" bellowed Malfoy. "GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!"

The man dropped the files on the pile of paper on one of the chairs and scurried out of the room like a cockroach.

"I'm sorry," said Malfoy, "my staff doesn't seem to understand what 'no interruptions' means."

"I know how that feels," said Joseph. Wait a second, were they actually having small talk?

"What the hell do you want?" said Malfoy, resuming his previous manner.

"Well, I want you to know that I'm letting Hermione go," said Joseph.

"You what?"

"But of course, she's very distraught at the moment--"

"Yeah, thanks to you--"

"--so I think it would be best for you to come and take her home."

"Take her home?" repeated Malfoy stupidly.

"Don't you want her back?"

"Stop talking about her like she's a book I lent you," snapped Malfoy. "And of course I want her back. I just can't believe...you're just going to let me come take her away?"

"If you so wish," said Joseph. There was a slight pause before Malfoy spoke again.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"The address is 631 Pritchard Street. We'll be waiting."

There was a click and the line was disconnected. Malfoy frantically scribbled the address on a paper napkin that was lying on his desk.

"631 Pritchard Street," he muttered. Was this all a trick? He headed across the hall to Charlie's office.

"Oh, hi," said Charlie, looking up from the desk. "Handwriting analysis just came back. It's pretty inconclusive though."

"Charlie, he called, "said Malfoy, flopping down in a chair.

"Oh, good. I've been waiting to hear back--"

"No, Charlie," said Malfoy, "He called."

"What--oh!" His eyes widened. "What did he want? Did he..."

"He gave me the address," said Malfoy, holding it out.

"He just gave it to you? Just like that?"

"Which is why I think this is a trick of some sort...to lure me in..."

"Could be," mused Charlie.

"I'm going though," said Malfoy decisively.

"Alone?"

"No. I'm taking a few men with me," he said.

"I'm coming with you," said Charlie immediately. "Just let me grab my coat."

"Are you sure? This is sort of like a private mission. I haven't even told Kingsley I'm going. I just got the call."

"I'm coming," said Charlie firmly. "We're partners. We work together."

"Just one thing," said Malfoy.

"What's that?"

"When I want confront Joseph, I want to do it myself," said Malfoy, his eyes gleaming. "You guys will be stationed nearby, but don't do anything unless you have to."

"Understood."

"And Hermione's safety is first on our list of priorities, no matter what."

"Of course."

"Thanks, mate."

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

As soon as he hung up, Joseph went into the other bedroom and found Hermione already awake.

"I called him," he said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Don't lie to me," she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"He's coming, so you'd better make yourself presentable." He threw a bundle of clothes at her. "Shower's down the hall."

After he left, Hermione stared at the clothes he had given her. Was it true? Was he really coming for her?

"What are you doing?" said Joseph, peeking back into the room. "He'll be here soon."

His words propelled her into motion, and in a few minutes, she was clean, dressed, and standing in the hallway with Joseph.

"I don't understand why you're doing this," she said, crossing her arms.

"You don't have to understand. Why do you care anyway? You're getting out of here, aren't you?" She looked at him, trying to read his expression. "Oh, and I have something for you. Came this morning."

He walked over the table, and then handed her a thick, yellow envelope.

"What is this?" she said, tearing it open.

"Divorce papers," said Joseph, holding out a pen.

"Divorce papers?" she echoed.

"Well, aren't you going to sign them?"

She took the pen from him and held it in her hand, suddenly unsure of herself.

"What are you waiting for? Hurry up."

She hesitated for another moment, and then hurriedly scrawled her signature. Joseph snatched it up and stuffed it back in the envelope."

"So we're..."

"Officially divorced," said Joseph, putting it back on the table. "Well, technically it's not official until my lawyer signs it, but--"

"Reducto!"

The door of the apartment exploded and dissolved into ashes that clouded the air. Since they were standing so close, Joseph took the opportunity to seize Hermione and pull her to him. When the dust cleared a second later, he was kissing her, one hand on the back of her neck and the other pressing her palm against his chest.

Malfoy stood in the doorway, watching in disbelief as Hermione kissed him back. His wand hand went limp, and before his brain could fully register what was happening, he was sprinting back out the door. As soon as he left, Hermione jerked back from the embrace.

"You pig!" she shrieked, clawing at him. "You planned this!"

"But I didn't plan for you to kiss me back," smirked Joseph.

"Draco!" she yelled, bolting after him. "Draco!"

The few passersby on the street gave her strange looks as she darted past them, calling his name. She followed his footsteps in the snow until she spotted him sitting on the curb near a fire hydrant.

"Draco," she said, putting her arms around him. She was taken aback when he pushed her away.

"Don't touch me," he said coldly.

"Draco, what you saw--"

"Don't tell me it wasn't what it looked like," he sneered. "I saw you kiss him back. At first I thought he was taking advantage of you, but then I saw--"

"We're getting a divorce," she blurted. "I signed the papers."

"Great," he said sarcastically. "Congratulations."

"Draco, please don't be like this."

"I'll be however I like." He kicked at an empty can on the street. "First it was the end of sixth year at Hogwarts. Alright, I can understand that, us being immature sixteen-year olds. Then it was you begging at my doorstep--"

"You didn't have to take me in."

"But I did. Because that's what friends do--they help each other out. But what did you ever do for me?" he said bitterly.

"No one made you do anything," she countered.

"Exactly. I did it because I loved you, and I thought that if I showed you how I felt and gave you time, you'd eventually come around and admit you loved me too. But all you did was yell at me and blame me for all your stupid problems. I'm such a fool," he said, shaking his head.

"But I do love you," she said softly.

"I don't believe you," he said. "Where's the proof?"

"Er, pardon me for interrupting," said a voice from behind them, "but we need to get you guys out of here."

Malfoy and Hermione looked up and realized the three agents had convened in a circle around them, and Charlie was approaching. They had been too busy talking to notice.

"Alright," said Malfoy, standing up.

"Doesn't look like he's coming after you," said Charlie. "Maybe he's given up."

"It doesn't matter anymore. Let's just go."

"Not just yet." All of them whirled around to see Joseph with a gun in his hand. "I have some business to take care of."

"Get her out of here," said Charlie to his men.

"No!" said Hermione. "Joseph, don't!"

He pointed the gun at Malfoy, who was too shocked to move. Then several things happened in quick succession: a gunshot, voices shouting, jets of light, and at the same time he hit the ground hard. When he opened his eyes, he saw Charlie lying next to him with his eyes closed.

"Charlie?"

He coughed and his eyes fluttered open.

"Charlie, say something."

"Something," he said, wincing as he tried to laugh. "Sorry I had to tackle you like that..."

Malfoy sat up, ignoring the pain in his wrist. Delicate flakes of snow were beginning to fall from the gray clouds above.

"My God--Charlie! You're bleeding!" The redness was staining his jacket and the snow beneath him.

"Am I?" he said. "I didn't even notice..."

"Help!" cried Malfoy. "Charlie's been shot!"

One of the agents immediately abandoned the task of helping his partner tie up the struggling Joseph.

"He needs a hospital," said the agent, bending down.

"Can't you do something about the bleeding?" asked Malfoy.

"I wouldn't want to try," said the agent. "That's not my specialty."

Malfoy looked back down at Charlie, who had shut his eyes again.

"Charlie, we're going to get you some help...it's going to be okay..."

He took hold of Charlie's torso and helped the agent lift him to standing position.

"I'll take care of this," said the agent who was with Joseph. "Go."

The world was spinning as they Apparated...and landed directly into the middle of St. Mungo's, startling several witches who were on their morning coffee break.

"This is an emergency!" yelled Malfoy. "Everyone out of the way!"

A young, male Healer appeared at their side and helped Charlie onto a stretcher.

"Hold my hand," said Charlie, and Malfoy did, jogging alongside the stretcher to keep up. "Don't...don't let go."

"I won't. I won't let go. I swear to God I won't let you go," said Malfoy, as they entered a room where nurses immediately removed Charlie's bloody shirt and poured a couple drops of dittany on the wound.

"I'm sorry, sir," said one of the nurses to Malfoy, "but you're going to have to leave."

"I'm not leaving," said Malfoy adamantly. "If you want me to leave, you'll have to kill me and drag my body out."

"Sir--"

"It's alright, Madeline," said the Healer. "Let him stay." The Healer turned to Malfoy. "Sir, may I have a word?"

They went out into the hallway.

"How bad is it?" asked Malfoy, dreading the answer.

"Well, he's got some cuts and bruises, and a small fissure in his rib..."

"That's not so bad."

"But his lung has been punctured. We removed the bullet, but he's already lost a lot of blood. We've used the dittany on him, but I don't know how much good it'll do at this point--"

"Well, is he going to be okay or not?"

The Healer looked uncomfortable. "Sir, you have to understand that magic isn't a cure-all..."

"It's a lie!" shouted Malfoy. "I don't believe you!"

He charged back into the room and knelt at Charlie's side, picking up his hand and giving it a squeeze.

"You're going to be just fine," said Malfoy.

'It's okay, Draco," said Charlie, giving him a weak squeeze in return. "I heard you shouting in the hallway..." He coughed. "I need you...tell Liz..."

"Stop it. Don't talk like that," said Malfoy. "I don't want to hear it. You're going to make it, and we'll go out for lunch tomorrow...and...and...I'll be best-man at your wedding. What do I wear in the Bahamas? Shorts? I don't think I've got a pair...would it be alright if I wore my running shorts?" He was just babbling now.

Charlie coughed and gave his hand another squeeze. "Draco," he wheezed, his breathing shallow, "listen...to me."

"I'm listening," said Malfoy, leaning forward so Charlie could whisper into his ear. "Tell me anything you want."

"Tell Liz...I love her..."

"I will, Charlie. And when you get better, you can tell her yourself."

"Tell Kingsley...he'll win the lottery...if he keeps trying...and give Potter..." He paused to cough. "Give Potter...the picture...behind my cabinet..."

They both cracked a smile. Then Charlie lapsed into a coughing fit.

"Water..." he croaked. Malfoy handed him the cup and he took a sip. "I'm sorry...Draco...thank you..."

"Why are you thanking me? You saved my life."

"Thank...you...for being...a great...friend..." The air rattled in his chest as he inhaled. He closed his eyes.

"No, Charlie! Talk to me! Keep talking! What's your favorite color, Charlie? It's funny how I never asked you that. Please, Charlie!"

"I'm...sorry..."

Charlie's chest sank as he exhaled for the last time, and Malfoy felt his hand go limp.

"NOOOO!" he howled.

"Sir, please calm down--"

Malfoy spun around, his eyes dark gray with fury. "Calm down? You want me to calm down? My bloody best friend just--just--"

He yanked the door open and ran outside where the snow was falling steadily.

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?" he screamed, tilting his head to the sky. "WHAT KIND OF GOD ARE YOU? CHARLIE DIDN'T DESERVE THIS! WHEN HAS HE EVER DONE ANYTHING TO DESERVE THIS? WHY DON'T YOU PUNISH JOSEPH? WHY? IT'S--NOT--BLOODY--FAIR!"

He sank to the pavement, sobbing. After he had stopped crying, it occurred to him that Joseph was being held at the Ministry. Without another thought, he Apparated there and rushed upstairs to Kingsley's office.

"Where is he?" demanded Malfoy, flinging open the doors to Kingsley's office, where he was meeting with one of the agents.

"Ah, I've been expecting you," said Kingsley. Then he turned to the agent. "I'll talk to you later."

"I. Want. To. Kill. Him," said Malfoy, after the agent left the room.

"We're keeping him in custody," said Kingsley. "He'll be spending a few weeks in Azkaban until we can arrange for his trial."

"That place is too good for him," spat Malfoy. "I'm going to tear that bloody, wife-abusing, scum--"

"Stop," said Kingsley, holding up his hand. "Draco, I understand how upset you are right now--"

"Well, that's an understatement."

"You've been through a lot," said Kingsley patiently. "And I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you. I didn't know you were so personally involved in the case. Charlie only told me this morning."

"Charlie's dead," said Malfoy.

"What?" said Kingsley, utterly shocked.

"He got shot by that--that--" He made a noise of aggravation. "I want to rip his head off--"

"I'm so sorry," said Kingsley, still looking dazed. "I had no idea."

"So do I have your permission to kill him now?"

"Draco," said Kingsley looking at him, his eyes filled with emotion, 'you need to be reasonable. I know that you're absolutely devastated right now, and so am I, but you have got to think about your actions. Whittaker will be tried for his crimes--and I'm pretty sure he'll be convicted--and he will get what he deserves."

"No he won't," said Malfoy. "He deserves--"

"I know what you think he deserves, Draco, but I can't let you do it. He's in the hands of the law now." Kingsley sighed. "Just stay calm. Be reasonable."

Malfoy stared at him unblinkingly, and then threw the half-full coffee mug on the desk at the wall. The mug shattered and coffee seeped into the carpet.

"To hell with being reasonable!" he yelled furiously, slamming the door behind him as he left.

"Such a temper," said Kingsley, chuckling and shaking his head in amusement. "He's just like Potter when he was younger."