Malfoy, P.I.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I turned into the circular drive in front of the house. I didn't know if my father was alive. I didn't even know if he lived at the Manor anymore. I didn't know what I was doing here. Storm clouds threatened in the west.

I took a deep breath and several long slugs of bourbon. My hands were slightly damp and I wiped them on my pants as I got out of the car. I was hyper-aware of everything around me as I reached for an immense brass knocker.

The door opened and I looked into a pair of gray eyes identical to mine.

My father smiled at me. "Draco. I'd been hoping you'd stop by while you were in the country."

I swallowed. Memories washed over me, most of them unpleasant, and I couldn't think of a word to say. He cocked his head, a raptor, and opened the door further. "Do come in."

"All right." I walked into an enormous foyer, with a black-and-white marble floor. Green marble was inlaid in the center in a strange pattern. It almost looked like--

"Would you like some tea?"

I dragged my eyes away from that strange shape on the floor. "That would be nice."

"I think we'll take it in the morning room." He led me through the house, past an enormous curved staircase, and a room full of suits of armor, and another room full of portraits, past a conservatory and a ballroom, and finally to a smaller room in the back of the house with huge glass windows that looked out over a sloping lawn. A forest was in the distance, and to the right was my mother's beloved rose garden. I smiled a little when I saw it. A table was set with a teapot, cups and plates, several dishes, and a vase of white stargazer lilies. He sat and looked at me expectantly until I sat as well. He poured me a cup of tea and added a lump of sugar.

"It's been a long time. You look well."

I sipped the tea. Earl Grey. "It has been a long time. You, er, look well also." Considering I didn't really remember what he used to look like. Nor had I ever really tried.

He smiled but it was a cold one. I couldn't ever remember any sort of emotion from him except slow, simmering anger. "We age very slowly in this family. One of our many legacies."

"How did you know I was here?"

My father just laughed, a low, lazy chuckle. If a lion could laugh after bringing down an antelope, it would sound like that laugh. "You're my son. Of course I follow your movements. How is Mr. Potter's case proceeding?"

"I... it's going very well." I looked around the room, in way over my head and hoping it didn't show.

He poured himself some more tea, and I caught a flash of a tattoo on his left arm beneath the silk shirt he wore. He looked a bit like a porn star from the 1970's but I refrained from commenting upon that. I didn't think he'd appreciate it.

"You seem uncomfortable."

My flask was in my pocket but I didn't dare reach for it. Somehow I knew I'd need to keep my head clear and with more bourbon, it wouldn't be. "Well, it's just that... it's been a long time, as you said."

"Indeed. I assume you're here because you're ready to accept your legacy."

My legacy? I remembered my mother talking about that as well. Dark clouds began to gather and my brain seemed to have hopped into overdrive.

He went on. "After all, there is Jessica to consider."

Something inside me froze. Jessica. If he knew about her, then she wasn't safe. He might be her grandfather but I was certain he didn't have her best interests at heart. He glanced at me, smiling again, and pulled a long velvet rope that was suspended from the ceiling. It must have been a servant's bell but the creature that came scurrying in wasn't like any servant I'd ever seen. It was about two feet fall, with enormous ears and giant eyes the size of tennis balls. It looked to be some sort of elf and suddenly, unbidden, I remembered what it was. A house-elf. That's what I was trying to remember about the servants we'd had when I was a child. My father was talking to it.

"Tinka, do you remember Draco?"

The creature looked at me. "Tinka is remembering Master Draco. Master Draco has been gone a long time but it is good to be seeing him at home now." The voice was high and scratchy and I guessed it was a female.

"Ah, but Tinka, we don't know if Master Draco is going to stay at home. Master Draco is a very important detective over in America and I'm not sure we can convince him to stay." His face was perfectly impassive but a cool disdain colored his words. I need to learn that skill.

I put my cup down. Time to cut to the chase. I wasn't interested in his polite society games. "What's your game?"

My father looked politely amused. "My game?"

"Yes. Your game. Your agenda." Everyone has one. "Something's hinky here and you know it. You're playing with me. Just say what you have to say and stop beating around the bush. You have no interest in me or in Jessica or we'd have heard from you a long time ago. I didn't even hear from you when Mum died."

He idly traced the rim of his cup with a finger, much as Tom had done and I narrowed my eyes. "Ah, yes, Narcissa. Her death was most unfortunate. I won't go so far as to say it was in vain, however."

I fought to keep my voice steady and my detective face on. If not for Harry, I'd have been out of that house in an instant. But I had a hunch now, and I stayed on the scent. "Not in vain? What do you mean?"

"Think back to the code of Hammurabi. 'An eye for an eye'."

Oh no. No, no, no. It couldn't be. "A... life for a life?" You utter bastard.

That made him smile the first genuine smile I'd seen since I arrived. "You are smart, aren't you? Yes. But now, smart boy, whose?"

Whose life... whose life did my mother's pay for? I looked out at the rose garden, remembering a summer morning with my mother sipping tea among the flowers and doing the crossword puzzle.

The crossword puzzle. Tom did the crossword puzzle. And he just came out of nowhere five years ago. Right around when my mother would have died. That explained how he hadn't aged since 1942. Somehow he died and was brought back.

I fought to keep my voice even. "Tom Riddle, then. But how did you do it?"

"I am impressed. You're a credit to the Malfoy name."

I glared at him. "I'd rather not be, if it's all the same to you. Go perform an anatomical impossibility upon yourself, would you? Might improve your disposition."

"I don't think I care much for your attitude, Draco," he said.

"Yeah, it keeps me awake at nights, too, crying about it. But what can I do? Now tell me how you did it. And why." If his voice was brass knuckles covered in black velvet, mine was cold blue steel.

He sighed elaborately and folded his napkin. "Magic, Draco."

"Magic." Yeah, I don't know what was in that tea but peyote had nothing on it.

"Don't you believe in magic?"

I didn't but my mother had... I looked up at him as he smirked triumphantly. He thought he had an ace up his sleeve and he was just itching to pull it out. I nodded and gave him plenty of rope. "I don't know. I have never seen it."

"Oh, yes, you have, Draco. You just don't remember it. Your mother took you away and cut you off from your rightful legacy." The man was starting to sound like Darth Vader. I was just waiting for him to say we could rule the galaxy together as father and son. I should have left then, but this story would be considerably shorter if I had.

"Fine. Do some magic, then. But leave my balls right where they are, thank you."

"You're not what I'd expected. But as you wish." He flicked his wrist and a long, thin stick appeared in his hand. I realized it was a wand. He pointed at the teapot and muttered something and then, where the teapot once was, sat a black and white rabbit. It looked at me, nose quivering. With a shaking hand, I touched it. It was warm and soft and real. A rabbit. The look on my face must have been amusing, because my father laughed and, with another wave of the wand, changed his outfit completely.

"I don't... that's not... but if you can..." Again with the loss of the English language. I wasn't just off my game, I wasn't even near the ballpark.

"You do realize what this means, don't you, Draco? I'm a wizard. You're a wizard too. As is Jessica, most likely. Well, technically, she's a witch."

"I can do magic." I repeated it dumbly. Right. And Gino Nardone didn't mean to hurt me when he shot me. He just wanted to add some iron to my diet.

"Well, not right now, since you haven't been trained. But have you ever noticed strange things happening? Have you ever wished for something and made it happen? Think."

And I thought. Sure, I never hit red lights, or traffic, and I always find a good parking place. But that didn't mean anything. And if this man was crazy, well, didn't that run in families? Was I crazy too? What had I passed on to Jessica?

Jessica. I had to get to her. This man was batshit and he knew where she was. My panic rose, though I kept it from showing. But then, behind me, a vase of flowers exploded and I nearly wet my pants. My father purred. I didn't like the sound.

"There. Proof. You're upset and overwrought and your magical energy had to manifest itself. It's quite common. The only reason I use a wand is to focus my magical energy. Yours doesn't have a focus. Hence the exploding vase. Now don't tell me that's never happened to you before." He smiled. "Q.E.D."

Vases exploding. Oh, it had happened. Several times.

And it had happened to Harry. That meant that if I was a wizard, so was he.

I shook my head. "I don't... look, I'm not interested. I have my life and I live it the way I live it and that's good enough for me. I don't know why I came here, but if you killed my mother, or are in any way responsible, I'll see to it that you pay. And if you ever come near me or Jessica or Harry, I'll see to it that you're sorry, understand? Maybe I can't fight your fancy parlor tricks. But I'm pretty resourceful. So stay away from me and from them. Look at you here, all alone. A cage is still a cage, no matter how pretty it is. Must hurt, knowing that everyone in your family has abandoned you. You'll die old and alone. Unloved. Tell me, does that keep you awake at night?" I stood up. If I'd scored a hit, he didn't let it show.

My father stood as well, rolling back the sleeves of his shirt. I finally saw the tattoo on his left arm.

A skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. Just like the vicar had seen over the ruins of Godric's Hollow. Chilled, I lifted my eyes to his and prepared to do battle.

"Did you have anything to do with the death of James and Lily Potter?"

"Me? Oh, no. I knew about it but I played no part in it, I can assure you. I did know them, of course, from school."

"School?"

"Yes, Draco. Hogwarts. It's where most wizards in Britain go to school."

And Harry had gone there... so he must have known he was a wizard but wasn't telling me. There were a lot of things he wasn't telling me and I was getting tired of being treated like a mushroom, as Sam Pirelli had said. Kept in the dark and fed shit.

Or maybe he really didn't remember. But he wasn't what I thought he was; that much I knew.

"How do you know Harry?"

His eyes darkened until they were nearly black. I wondered if mine ever did that. "Harry's a very touchy subject. Are you sure you want to discuss him with me? After all, it'd be a shame to lose a lover so soon into the relationship. Naughty boy."

A lover... oh, god and he knew it all. I didn't care to think about how he knew. I grabbed the rabbit for some reason and left. I'm sure I walked out calmly and coolly, just as Bogart would have done, but my father's mocking laugh followed me all the way back to the hotel. He sounded just like Tom.

*****

Harry wasn't at the hotel when I got there. The rabbit had turned back into a teapot on the drive home and I couldn't bring myself to touch it. I don't remember the drive back to the hotel but I obviously made it in one piece. I left the room, edgy, and walked the streets, leaving a trail of dead butts behind me. My shoulders were hunched against an ill wind and the sidewalks were empty. Taxis and buses drove past, the unforgiving interior light revealing empty seats. Blue and red neon reflected in the puddles on the sidewalk and I didn't let myself think about the past. I finally walked back to the hotel and drank bourbon as the city lights glittered in the mist.

The dark was comforting and I could pretend that I was at home and I'd never met Harry and my life was just the usual day-to-day routine of tracking down people and taking pictures of illicit assignations in sleazy motel rooms. Life on the shady side. I would have never thought I'd consider that normal but, as I said, sad tales of the city are my specialty. Of course, what I consider normal now is another matter altogether.

I don't know how long I sat in the dark, comfortably numb, but Harry came into the room, flicking on the light and I cringed.

"Draco?" He walked over to me. "You're drinking." His voice held a note of disappointment and I wondered why. I glanced at the bottle which was about a third empty.

"Just a few."

"More than a few, I'd say." He took the bottle away. I protested feebly but he moved it out of reach and it was too much effort to get out of the chair. "What happened?"

"What happened? You mean, today? Or five years ago? Or when you went off to a school called Hogwarts? See, I know lots of stuff but there's a lot of things I don't know so why don't you fill me in, hmm?"

"Draco... what's wrong?"

I downed the rest of my glass and the bourbon felt good. "Why didn't you tell me you were a wizard?"

His face was almost comical in its surprise. "A... what?" He was genuinely surprised or the best damn actor I'd ever seen.

"A wizard. That you can do magic. Because my father can, and, according to him, so can we."

"Magic."

"Yes, Potter. Magic." I handed him the teapot that I'd finally gotten from the car. He just looked at it.

"It's a teapot."

"But it was a rabbit when I left my father's house."

"A rabbit that got turned into a teapot?"

"No, no. It was a teapot that got turned into a rabbit and then turned back into a teapot." Bring on the psychotropic drugs. I hoped straitjackets were slimming.

"I see." But it was clear that he didn't. I looked at those remarkable eyes and they were sad and resigned. "You need to get some sleep."

"We explode vases. That's our magical energy getting pent up and not having a focus. Do strange things ever happen to you? Do you wish something would happen and then have it happen?"

He hesitated and in that instant, I knew the answer. I went on. "Somehow you don't remember your past. You went to the same school your parents did and that my father did. He knew your parents. The night they died, there was a sign in the air over Godric's Hollow. A skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. That sign is also on my father's arm. His left arm." Right about in the place where Tom Riddle had left that curious bruise on mine, I belatedly realized.

Harry went dead white but I didn't stop. "And somehow Tom came back to life. My mother died and that somehow gave him life. A life for a life." Funny how my motto in life had come back to haunt me. I guess that's what happens when you live by your own code of ethics. I took the bourbon away from Harry and took another amber swig.

"That's why he hasn't aged since 1942. So he's mixed up in this somehow as well. He's here, somewhere, and if I could just find him, I know he knows the answers. He must have been the one to kill Mike, but I don't know how he did it. But my father changed his clothes completely, just using magic, so Tom could have done something to change into you. I don't know if that's even possible but somehow, some way, he did it. Someone wants you gone. Gary said something to the effect that getting you locked up would get you out of someone's hair. So why not frame you for murder? See? It's starting to fit. Tom erased my memory somehow that one night, so maybe yours has been erased too. And replaced or something." This case was all about someones and somethings and somehows. But nothing concrete.

Harry looked very young and very scared but he swallowed, lifted his chin and went on where I'd left off. "So I'm not who I think I am. And Snuffles somehow knows that. He knows me, but I don't remember him. Tom knows me, too."

I thought back to the little hints I'd gotten along the way. The mysterious notes on my desk, Snuffles, Marlowe... "Someone's trying to help me. I don't know who. But maybe I'm not the only one on your side." I said the last line somewhat reluctantly, but if Harry noticed, I couldn't tell.

Harry's face lit up and his shoulders sagged with relief. "You're still on my side?"

"You're paying me to be, aren't you?" It was supposed to sound tough and hard-boiled and to my ears, it did, but Harry must have read something else into it because he pulled me close and kissed me with everything he had. I kissed him back and tried to stand, but gravity was not cooperating.

"Come on, Draco. Let's go to bed. We'll figure all this out in the morning."

Couldn't argue with that.

*****

I woke up next to Debbie. I rolled over, draping an arm across her, but she was stiff.

And cold.

That woke me up in a hurry and I sat up. She was on her back, eyes open, and her face was purple. Livid handprints stood out on her neck and I moaned in fear, jumping out of the bed. Beside her, on the bed, was a single red rose. Somehow I got myself dressed and got to Harry's house. He looked up as I burst onto his back patio, panicked. He sat underneath an arbor covered with scarlet climbing roses. Thunder muttered nearby and wind gusted.

"Debbie... it's... she's... strangled... and I don't remember anything..."

Harry got up and came over to me. "What happened, Draco?"

The climbing rose whipped wildly in the approaching storm, having been ripped loose and Harry's fingers were digging painfully into my arms. I moved to get away from those accusing eyes but he only held me tighter. Part of my mind wondered why I'd ever considered them beautiful.

"Tell me, Draco. Tell me what you did." His voice was rough, and it wasn't from whiskey.

"Look, I don't... I'd had a few drinks and it's all... hazy." And it was hazy. I thought back to that night in her house--the warm bourbon in the cool blueness of her room and the scent of flowers--but something was wrong. She wasn't sighing contentedly underneath me. She was grabbing my wrists and her eyes were pleading with me to stop but I couldn't. It seemed as if I were outside myself, watching and unable to control anything. Her eyes clouded and her grip grew weaker, until finally her hands fell to her side and cold realization broke over me. I looked up at Harry, and I didn't know how to say it.

He seemed to understand. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Just tell me, Draco. Did you kill her?"

And, without hesitation, I nodded. It was too late to fight what I knew I had coming.

"Yes. I did. This isn't your fight. Don't interfere." Tom came up beside me, his voice eerily calm. He laid a hand on my left forearm, which exploded with pain.

I sat up with a gasp. Harry slept beside me and the room was dark. I glanced around, orienting myself. London. I was in London. Just a dream.

I got up, drank a glass of water and wandered out onto the balcony. The lights of the city floated below and I grabbed the railing until my hands stopped shaking. Turning back into the room, I stopped short of the bed, gasping. Harry was still asleep and the moon was streaming through the door I'd just walked through, shining on him so that he was completely illuminated. He looked almost ethereal. Finally he shifted, moving the silver shadows, but didn't wake. I watched him sleep and thought of Debbie in the moonlight.

Poor, dead Debbie. I'd led Tom right to her. He'd been following me, and if he killed Mike to set Harry up, then surely he'd killed Debbie to set me up. Or perhaps it was a warning. However, I'd played a part in her death and that wasn't going to be easy to live with.

Just something else to add to the pile. I found the bottle and poured a drink.

Guilt is a very heavy burden to bear at times.

*****

I woke up early the next morning. Beside me, Harry still slept, but his brow was furrowed and he was mumbling to himself. I eased out of bed, careful not to wake him, and took a quick shower. He still hadn't woken when I got out and I watched him for a moment as he slept.

"Too late to stop now," I whispered and kissed him softly. If I'd known what was going to happen, I would have woken him and given him a proper kiss but I didn't. I dressed and went downstairs, eating breakfast and glancing at the newspaper. Nothing out of the ordinary. Ironic that the world outside went on as always while mine and Harry's was falling apart.

I wanted to be back in my office, frowning at the bills and wondering how I'd pay rent this month. I wanted to be back home, with Marlowe curled up on my lap, purring and making biscuits. I wanted to be teasing Jennifer about her newest love. Anywhere but here on this path that was leading me to things I didn't understand and couldn't explain. Magic? Wizards? I thought of Tom and the things he'd allegedly done. Erasing my memory, turning invisible, and somehow convincing the cops that Harry had confessed to him.

Tom killed Mike. I rolled that idea around. Pretty elaborate setup, if that was the case. If someone wanted Harry gone, why didn't they just kill him? And if they didn't want me nosing around, why not just kill me? I'm sure there had been plenty of opportunities.

I sighed, took a long swallow of bourbon, and walked to the Underground, heading for the Registry Office. My mind drifted and the bourbon calmed me. Once in the office, an old man waited on me who was dead but just hadn't laid down yet, and at last I was able to find out who owned the Riddle House.

And, to my credit, I knew the answer before I had the documents in front of me. I reached for my notebook to write everything down but I must have left it at the hotel. No problem. I already knew how to get to Wiltshire.

*****

It was foggy when I got back to Malfoy Manor. As I drove, the fog had gotten heavier and I was reminded of the pictures I'd seen of the 1880s. Pea soup fog and Jack the Ripper lurking in the shadows. I sighed and got out of the car, after having a few fortifying shots. There was another car in the drive--some small green foreign job--and everything was still. No birds, no wind, no sound. Fog sometimes muffles sound, but this was eerie. The hair on the back of my neck rose but I walked up to the front door. I started to knock but the door was open a few inches. I pushed it and walked in.

"Hello?"

No answer. I looked around, and nothing seemed amiss but it all seemed wrong. A heavy scent of lilies filled the house. Every instinct I had was telling me to get out of that place but I'm a tough detective. I don't scare easily. I walked down the shadowed halls. No Tinka. No Lucius. As I passed one room, I heard someone softly humming La Donna e Mobile but the sound was quickly swallowed once I was a few feet past the door.

I'd gotten as far as the conservatory when I heard raised voices off to my right. I followed the sound, walking through a room with suits of armor, whose empty eyes followed me. A memory came back to me then. I'd been terrified of the things as a child, so my father had locked me in there with them one night to get me over my fear. I was still scared of them after that, but I learned to hide it. Shivering, I paused and listened. The voices echoed, so I knew it was a rather empty room, and I kept walking, pausing as I got close. With a start, I recognized Harry's voice.

So that's where my notebook went. The little bastard stole it and got my father's address that way. Stubborn.

"What did you do to me?"

My father's voice was amused. "I? I did nothing to you."

"What does that mark on your arm mean? Why was it above my parents' house the night they died?"

"Oh, that? It's a calling card of sorts. Are you quite sure you don't remember anything?"

Harry must have shaken his head in the negative because my father chuckled. "Impetuous boy. I quite fail to see what Draco finds so attractive in you but that's of no consequence. I really didn't want it to come to this but this is growing very tiresome. Is there anything you have to say for yourself?"

I ran into the room. Someone laughed from the shadows but I didn't look. My father and Harry stood facing each other, green eyes on gray, in the center of a room that looked like it was being renovated. All of the furniture was covered with sheets and the walls were bare except for a coat of primer. My father looked amused, pointing a wand at a Harry I did not recognize. Those green eyes were blazing and for a moment, I wondered if he'd gone mad. He didn't spare me a glance but kept on staring at my father. My father, however, smiled at me.

"So good to see you again, Draco. I am sorry that I can't offer you a drink at the moment. I know how much you enjoy a good drink." Guess the remark I'd made earlier about dying all alone had pissed him off after all.

"What's going on here?" I demanded.

Someone came up behind me. "Something that started long before you ever took this case."

Tom. I closed my eyes and he laid a cold hand on my shoulder. "This is between them. You can't help Harry now."

I watched Harry and my father, squaring off. The pattern of the marble floor looked like a chessboard. Ceremonies of the horsemen.

And even the pawn must hold a grudge. I remembered Davis Evans' words to me. Sometimes we, in our daily lives, play the role of a pawn, albeit unknowingly. I understood it now for the warning it was.

I turned to Tom. "Who's the pawn?"

He smiled at me. "Hmm?"

"You said this was between them. How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, about thirty-four years, give or take." He ran a cool finger down my cheek and his eyes were an icy blue. "But it's not your fight."

But who was the pawn? And who was the chessmaster?

"Tell me what happened!" Harry's voice rose, taking on an almost ethereal quality, and I shivered. It was very cold in the room and the air was alive with energy. Electricity seemed to crackle around us and I wouldn't have been surprised to see green fire surrounding Harry.

My father sighed elegantly. The only sign of any apparent distress on his part was a few strands of hair escaping from the black ribbon tying his hair back. "Obviously my little plan didn't work. Fine, then, Harry. Do you want to know? Do you want to remember everything? Fine. Remember."

Check.

He muttered something that sounded like Latin, and a blue light flowed from his wand, enveloping Harry. Harry stood still, stunned, then slowly, as the light flowed over him, his face changed. First confusion, then shock, then realization, and finally horror. Time seemed to have stopped as I watched him. He staggered and I moved to go to him, but Tom held me back.

"Lucius is restoring Harry's memory. Don't interfere," he murmured.

"And as for you, Draco..." My father's voice trailed off and he pointed his wand at me. His eyes glittered in the shadows of the room and I felt the blood drain out of my face but I couldn't move. He started to say something but was interrupted.

"Wait!" Harry finally looked up slowly at my father, pale. "How did you do it? How did you erase my memory so completely?"

"It's a rather complicated spell. Erasing your memory wasn't the hardest part, actually. It was replacing your memories and giving you a new past that was the most difficult bit. All those documents, you see. Luckily the Federal Bureau of Investigation has experience in those matters. As does the National Security Agency." My father knows people in the witness protection program? Somehow the thought of my father in bed with the Feds wasn't a happy one. And the NSA scares everyone. He glanced at me, then back at Harry, continuing. "I thought maybe if you'd started over, in California, with no memory of me or of Voldemort, that maybe, maybe, you'd leave me in peace to do what I wished. I should have killed you. I got talked out of it but I regret that deeply, I assure you."

Harry swallowed. "I killed Voldemort."

"Indeed you did. And quite a spectacle it was. You certainly know how to put on a good show. I didn't ever thank you for that, by the way. But I really am indebted to you. You're far more resourceful than anyone gave you credit for."

"The Dark Mark..."

My father glanced at me. "The Dark Mark." He did something with his wand and a symbol appeared in the air, hovering over us all, green and menacing. A skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. The same shape I'd seen in the mosaic of the manor's entrance hall. "That's the sign of Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord, as he's been called. I find it rather... tawdry. I, at least, have a sense of style. Harry was the only wizard of our time with the ability to kill him. I was getting rather ambitious, shall we say, so I had a vested interest in seeing Voldemort dead. Harry here did a excellent job of it and left it open for me to reach a few goals I'd set long ago. I really should have killed Harry, but, as I said, I was talked out of it. So I wiped his memory, gave him a new past thanks to a few favors I was owed, and sent him to America."

My voice, when I found it, was shaky. "Who talked you out of it?"

"Oh, you wouldn't know him. But Harry would."

Harry narrowed those green eyes. "Who was it?"

"Severus."

"Snape?" Surprise, shock, and confusion rippled across his face.

"Yes. I'm not sure as to his motivations. He provided some quite convincing arguments, however, so I showed mercy and let you live. But then you started remembering things. Remember seeing the Leaky Cauldron a few days ago? Quite unacceptable. And knowing you for the stubborn boy that you are, I couldn't have that. So Tom came to be, and I put him to work. His job was to watch you and determine how much of a threat you were. If things got too out of hand, he was to get rid of you. I expected a quick death, but Tom will insist on the theatrical."

I spoke up again. "So Tom set Harry up for murder. Because if Harry's put to death, then he's out of your hair." Gary's words, spoken long ago. I wondered if he, too, was a wizard.

"Such a smart boy," my father purred at me and my skin crawled. "I wasn't expecting Harry to hire you, however. You got involved and then everything was at sixes and sevens."

"You should have changed Harry's name. It would have made it a lot more difficult to track down his real identity. But I'll give you points for trying. Guess you're new to the game." Someday I'll learn when to keep my mouth shut. Someday.

He gave me an icy glare, then fixed those gray eyes on Harry and it crossed my mind that I'd look like that as I got older. "Why did you hire my son, of all people?"

"I... I... he was recommended to me."

"By whom?"

"What does that matter now?"

"Because I am curious."

Tom spoke up. "Harry's had help all along. So has Draco here. Not, of course, from me." His breath was cold on my neck and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to turn and walk away from this nightmare. I've walked away from things before and it isn't hard to do.

Lucius--I refused to think of him as my father any longer---raised an elegant eyebrow. "Ah well. It's of no consequence. I am sorry, Draco, but collateral damage can't be helped. It's to be expected." He pointed his wand at me again, smiling cruelly through empty eyes and Harry's eyes widened. Tom tensed behind me and stepped to the side. A million thoughts went through my mind at that instant, and I thought I'm sorry, Jessica. I can't help you anymore. My childhood home was a coffin now.

"Avada Ked-"

"Don't you hurt him!" Harry stepped in front of me protectively and suddenly Lucius was flung against the opposite wall. There was a cracking sound and he slid to the floor. Harry ran over to him, picking up his wand and pointing it at him.

Checkmate.

"I remember the Killing Curse, Mr. Malfoy. I remember how to do everything."

The man on the floor didn't move. The room was utterly silent, except for the soft coo of a dove outside. His eyes were closed and a trickle of deep red blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth. He looked like an unwanted toy tossed aside by a child.

I walked forward and this time, Tom didn't hold me back. "Is he...?"

"I don't know." Harry's voice was tight and his shoulders were hunched. I started to touch him but thought better of it. I bent down, touching my father's neck and looked up at Harry, nodding. Dead. I didn't know how to say the word but Harry understood and backed away, dropping the wand. He was wound so tightly that he was bound to crack at any moment. I had a vision of him starting to scream and never stopping. And I wasn't sure what he was capable of now. The man I had known was gone. And my father, too, psychopath that he was, was also gone.

With a single stroke, my childhood demons were eradicated, replaced by something entirely new, though no less menacing. I looked around the room. The furniture under the sheets assumed threatening positions and I had the eerie feeling of being watched. Somewhere a predator was hunched down, waiting to pounce.

"We... we should go."

"Time to play." Tom's voice was low and eerily calm. He spoke it matter-of-factly. Harry started to reply but Tom disappeared, sort of like the Cheshire Cat. He just faded away. Harry finally turned to me, shaking.

"Draco..."

I put my arms around him. I didn't want to touch him but I had to. If I didn't do it then, I never would. "It's okay. It's over. We'll figure the rest out, okay? Come on."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring you into all this. I didn't know. I didn't know."

"Come on. Let's go back to the hotel."

"N-no."

"Where to, then?"

Harry shook his head and looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. "He mentioned the Leaky Cauldron, right?"

"Um, right."

"That's the place we saw the other day. On Charing Cross Road. They might be able to answer some questions."

"Okay." I didn't argue. He was a man on the edge. I led him through the shadows of the Manor and out into a wild night. The wind howled and streaky clouds raced past the moon. A puddle had formed just below the last step from the front door. Harry managed to jump across it, but I tripped and fell in. It was much deeper than it looked and I was nearly fully immersed. Cursing, I got up and went over to Harry. I put him in my car and gave him the flask. "Drink that." A nightingale sang somewhere close by.

"What about my car?" He pointed to the green one in the drive.

"We'll have someone pick it up. You're in no condition to drive." Neither was I, really, having possibly just seen my father's death, but I was on autopilot and wasn't allowing myself to think about these things. I'm a professional.

I turned on the radio, to fill the silence. Barber. Adagio for Strings.

Suddenly and inexplicably angry, I snapped the radio off and we drove in silence. The fog slowly lifted as we got closer to London. Not sure of the parking situation, I drove to the hotel.

"We can leave the car here and take the Underground. Walk to the... ah, pub." I couldn't say the name. Somehow saying the name made all of this real and I didn't want it to be. Just because you can't go back doesn't mean you don't want to.

"I took your notebook. I'm sorry."

I glanced over at him. "You are stubborn, aren't you?"

He looked down, and I realized he still had my father's wand. My stomach lurched and I wanted to tell him to toss it out the window, but I didn't think he would.

He spoke very softly. "I had to know. Do you understand?"

"I'm nosy for a living. Of course I understand." And I did. Except when it got personal. I didn't like the thought of being the son of a man like Lucius Malfoy, and now I understood why my mother left him. I wondered what she'd say if she knew all that had happened. No wonder she never told me about him, although protecting children for their own good usually ends up hurting them more than helping them. Or so I've found.

My voice was tentative and that pissed me off. "Thank you for saving my life back there. I don't know how you did what you did but if you hadn't--"

"Don't think about it. I did what I had to and I'm glad."

Nothing to say to that.

We finally got to the hotel and I gratefully turned the car over to the valet. Harry stumbled as he got out of the car and I took his arm. "Upstairs."

"But the pub--"

"Will still be there," I finished. "You're in shock. Come on."

He didn't protest as I led him upstairs and sat him on the bed. I poured us both a stiff drink and handed him his. He drank it obediently and then turned those green eyes to me.

"Come here," he said, low, and I knew exactly what he wanted. My cock twitched, and, while sex was the last thing on my mind two hours ago, now it seemed like a pretty good idea. I also realized that Harry wanted not just sex, but comfort. For him, the two seemed to be the same.

I downed my drink and walked over to him, pushing him down on the bed and kissing him. He kissed me back, hands in my hair, and wrapped his legs around my waist. Somehow we managed to get undressed and I pushed him back on the bed, moving over him and kissing him again. I took my time, mapping out every inch of him with my mouth, while he shuddered and panted beneath me. When he came, he closed his eyes and whispered my name. Finally he opened them and looked at me.

"Tell me it'll all be okay."

"It'll be okay, Harry. I promise." I don't know how a man who had just flung another man across the room could suddenly sound like a lost little boy, but he did. He seemed doubtful, but I moved over him and kissed him and as I sank into him, he clutched my shoulders and whispered that it was all right now.

*****

We slept for a few hours, me draped over Harry almost protectively. If I dreamed, I don't remember it, but a vague sense of foreboding hung over me and something was nagging at me. It took me a while to realize what it was. There were still many unanswered questions in this case. And many loose ends.

Tom, for one. He was out there, and he meant business. I remembered what he said. "Time to play." I didn't like the sound of that, knowing the nature of Tom's games. But maybe someone was helping us. I suddenly thought of Pete the dog.

Harry stirred beside me and kissed my shoulder. He always did that when he woke up.

"How'd you sleep?"

He stretched. "Good. I feel better."

"Do you still remember everything?"

He nodded, suddenly wary. "Why?"

"Relax. I'm just curious about a few things." Another kind of foreplay this time.

He drank some water. "Okay." He propped himself up with some pillows.

"Who's Snuffles?"

"Snuffles... oh. That's Sirius. My godfather. He's an Animagus. A dog."

"A... what?"

He smiled. "A wizard who can turn into an animal. I can do it too."

"You can?"

"Yeah. I'm a black and white cat. I know several wizards that can turn into cats. I knew a witch that turned into a cockroach. It suited her, too. My father was a stag."

"Bet you've got green eyes."

"Yep. Remind me to explain to you someday why cats stick their ass in the air when you pet them. Sirius is your cousin, by the way. On your mother's side. His last name is Black. As was your mother's maiden name."

"So he's the one helping us." I thought of the easy familiarity between Harry and Snuffles.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I don't know if he's the only one."

"So why didn't he just show himself? Why all the mystery?"

"I don't know. I guess he had his reasons. I'm sure he didn't want to freak you out."

"Right. Following strange dogs into the woods doesn't freak me out a bit. Who is Snape?"

"Oh. Severus Snape. He was a professor at Hogwarts. The school I went to. It's in Scotland. He taught potions. He was once a Death Eater--a follower of Voldemort--and then became a good guy. Or maybe he was a double agent all along. I'm not sure. He hated me, though."

"So why would he spare your life?"

"Oh. Well, he'd done that once before. He went to school with my father and my father saved his life from a werewolf. So he returned the favor, I guess."

"A werewolf?"

"Oh, um. Yeah. There really are werewolves."

I eyed him. "You're not one, are you?"

He laughed. "No, of course not."

"It'd explain a few things. Like your breath right now."

"Fine. I'll go brush my teeth." He got up and walked to the bathroom, naked. Nice view.

"So I'm a wizard too?"

Harry came out, dripping toothpaste foam and looking like a rabid dog. He nodded, then walked back into the bathroom to rinse. "Do you want me to teach you?"

"Teach me?"

"How to do magic."

"I... um... let's just get this case put away first, okay?" I didn't want to learn magic. I wanted nothing to do with any of this. Wizards and werewolves and magic. I've always trusted what I could see, feel, taste, and touch. It's been good enough for me for thirty five years and I saw no reason for that to change. I just didn't know how to tell Harry all of this. He didn't question it, though. He began to dress himself and I heaved out of bed, doing the same. We were quiet but it wasn't an awkward silence.

It was twilight as we walked to the Leaky Cauldron. People were heading home at the end of a work day, and the signs of life I saw all around me comforted me, in a way. Life did go on. Harry got more and more edgy as we got closer to the pub, and I stayed quiet. He didn't like to talk when he got like this. We stood, watching across the street as a few men and women in robes entered the pub, talking excitedly and laughing. There seemed to be an air of celebration about the place, although how I could tell that much I can't really say.

Harry stepped into the street, starting across. I started to go across but felt a jerk and looked down. I had to stop because my shoe had become untied.

I heard the car before I saw it. Time moved in slow motion from that point on. Harry froze in the crosswalk as a car bore down on him from around a curve. I caught a glimpse of the man behind the wheel and wasn't surprised at all. Our eyes met and he nodded at me. I couldn't hear him but I could read his lips as he looked at Harry and said "Time to play." Harry couldn't, or wouldn't move and I was too late to do anything. Just another sad tale of the city.

*****

Los Angeles was burning. For days I'd been watching the news, looking nervously at the hazy yellow sky, tense with the sense of impending danger. The fires crept closer, and the call came to evacuate. Barely able to breathe through the suffocating ash, I grabbed Marlowe and attempted to stuff him into his carrier. He clawed my arms and got away, yowling in terror. My arms ached and as I watched, the ash grew thicker and I couldn't breathe as the skies grew dark, lit from within by flickers of orange and red, dancing maliciously. The cloud of ash descended and I was suffocating under its weight, each breath becoming more and more labored, wondering if I was to meet the same fate as those in 79 A.D....

I woke up. I was in a bed, and the pain was apocalyptic, particularly in my left leg and arm. Above me and to my left was an IV pole, hung with various bags, like a Dali-esque dream of tits. Something beeped rhythmically and something else was in my throat, preventing me from breathing or talking.

"Shh. Don't fight it." A hand stroked my hair and I looked up at Harry. He was unshaven, with red eyes and dirty hair. A man stood behind him, taller, with dark hair and sad eyes. He had once been handsome but now looked weary. My eyes must have asked the question because Harry replied. "You're on a respirator. That's why you can't talk. You're in the hospital."

I tried to talk again anyway. He shook his head. "You were in an accident. You were hit by a car."

Hit by a car? My head ached and I looked up at him again.

"There was a car heading towards me. You pushed me out of the way but you got hit." He took my hand, squeezing it. "But you're going to be fine. Just fine. Just fine." He repeated it, in the manner of a child who thinks that if they say it enough times then it must be true. His voice shook, as did his hand on mine, and that scared me. Suddenly a veil gathered over my vision and I could dimly hear some sort of alarm shrieking as everything went dark.

From above, I watched as Harry was held back by the other man in the room. Doctors poured into the room, shoving a board underneath me and barking frantic instructions. Harry lunged for me, but was held back yet again. Finally he slumped to the floor, his head down and his shoulders shaking.

In that last moment, I wondered if my life would pass before my eyes, but all I saw was Harry and I, standing on a beach. We were standing side by side and as I watched the golden sun set, he watched the silver moon rise.