Chapter 5
“Draco? Meetings in ten man, you ready?” Blaise entered the house, wiping the residual soot from the fireplace that had stuck to his shoulder.
“When you say meeting, you mean meeting right?” Draco asked. Blaise just furrowed his brows. “I mean, someone is going to actually meet with us.”
“Yes. Stop panicking. You will get to the bottom of this – we will.” Blaise clapped his shoulder and the two stepped the emerald flames, arriving in Diagon Alley.
Nothing had changed much in the years, but every shop had something in it again. Windows weren’t broken and the place was bright. Alive. The busiest shop of the full street was ‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’. He had been in the shop a few times, but only with his ex-wife. He didn’t think he would be that welcome there anymore.
The Daily Prophet’s office was located at the upper end of the street. It was a two-storey building, a front window stretched along and above, showing everyone seated at their desk and the printers running their ink all over the new papers. Draco steeled himself, staring at the logo on the window. This was their only shot, and he didn’t feel so lucky.
“How can I help you?” Every employee looked up from their desk as the two men walked in. A young woman greeted them, ogling them up and down.
“I’m Blaise Zabini, got an appointment for eleven.”
“Ah yes, come through.” She walked through the floor and into an office in the back. “Have a seat please. Tea, coffee, water?”
“I’m good, thanks,” Blaise answered. Draco just shook his head.
“Okay well, let’s get down to business. You are a businessman I believe? I will confess, I don’t know how we can be of service. If you would like an advertisement in the columns we could certainly arrange for that, but you could have just owled us. Saved you the hassle of coming all the way down here,” she said softly with a sweet smile.
Draco looked to Blaise who sat on his left, with sheer worry. Blaise looked perfectly put together, his charismatic grin held firmly in place. “I can offer my services if you need them but on this occasion I’m just here on behalf of someone. One of my clients has had an issue with a previous article. I’m here to see if I can’t solve it.” He smiled warmly.
The woman smiled back. Zabini charm hadn’t failed yet. “I should tell you in advance we only keep records up to three years for the general public to view. Is it within that timeframe?”
Draco sighed in relief as Blaise replied, “Yes, yes it is.”
“Ah. So, you want this edition removed?” The woman looked over her glasses and Draco thought she could see his whole soul. “I will warn you now, it can only be removed if it’s considered to be disproven and if it was widely considered as defamation.”
“Having it removed could be a bonus, but we actually just wanted to find out who submitted the photographic evidence. It was not one of your photographers as they were not credited, and someone was really out to get—”
“I’ll stop you there, Mr Zabini and Mr Malfoy.” His name was said pointedly. “If this is your client, I believe I’m one step ahead of you both. I know exactly what article you’re on about and I can tell you I will not be able to release who sent it.”
“Are you having a laugh?! That supposed photograph wrecked my marriage and made it seem like I had cheated on the love of my fucking life. And you’re telling me I can’t know who’s responsible for that?” Draco’s outburst had his chest heaving again. Every emotion just hit him all of a sudden. Everything he held in for the wank that caused his marriage’s downfall.
The woman just cleared her throat, readjusted herself and then spoke calmly. “I understand your frustrations, Mr Malfoy but I am afraid there is just nothing to be done. I cannot give out details willy-nilly without some release form or permissions at the very least. Both of which I do not have in my possession.”
Blaise sat forward, an indication to let him handle this. “Look, we don’t want to cause any trouble for you. None for the company either. So—” Blaise reached into his pocket, bringing out his chequebook. “What kind of price is this information worth?”
The woman scoffed as a laugh before raising her eyebrows. “Oh, you’re serious?”
“As an Avada,” he chuckled, his signature sneer slapped on. It rivalled Draco’s.
“I’ll let you in on a secret, Blaise – I can call you Blaise right? – In all of my reporting days, I have never once taken a bribe. I seriously do not intend to start now.” She stood and made her way round the desk. “I think this meetings over.”
Draco and Blaise were practically thrown out by their collars like dogs onto the street. Blaise suggested some drinks in the Leaky Cauldron but if Draco was honest it was the last thing he wanted to do, another place where people could ogle at him.
“I think I just need to go home. This was a stupid bloody idea; we should never have come here.” Draco made to turn away from Blaise, but he grabbed his shoulder before he could make such a movement.
“Why is this so important all of a sudden?” Blaise’s voice had taken on a serious edge. “It’s not like you’ve been totally defamed. No one cares what people are called in the Daily Prophet.”
He looked at the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s not just the name thing. Seeing her, Gods having an hour of her time a week. I just need to find a way to make this right, if there is even the slightest chance. I need her to be by my side. Coming so far in life to have no one but four fucking walls to share it with.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I just want to find the truth, and at this moment in time it’s not looking very damn likely,” Draco hissed. Blaise knew he was pushed too far. Draco was not an emotional personal.
“Look, we’ll find a way. Go home and sleep, you look a mess.”
Merlin, Blaise was right. He looked an absolute mess. Worse than a mess, borderline psychotic. The bag under his eyes were very near to reaching his cheek bones and said cheek bones seemed over chiselled. His alabaster skin was more of a grey. He didn’t know the last time he had eaten a full meal that wasn’t just picky bits that were in the fridge or cupboard.
His nutritionist was going to kill him.
“Just because he’s not here on time for the first time ever doesn’t mean he is dead, Figgis! Pull yourself together, for fucks sake!” Coach Deakins bellowed.
Draco hadn’t meant to be late at all, in fact the complete opposite. He went to bed early enough to leave him time in the morning for a full breakfast. Maybe make the nutritionist blind to his eating habits for a bit. However, the first and only alarm he had set – he had slept right through like a baby.
He felt stiff as a board waking up, his muscles and joints all feeling like they had been fused together in the darkness of his slumber. For a second, he didn’t even know where he was. What day it was, what time it was. Hell, he didn’t think he knew his own name. Shortly upon opening his eyes, he knew he was Draco Malfoy, he didn’t know the time, he was in his bedroom, and he was sure he was meant to be somewhere.
As he figured it was training, he flew through the Floo. Thank Merlin he kept spare uniforms in his locker. Although, late was a new thing.
“On your own time, Malfoy. World waits for you and all that,” Deakins sneered. Draco would have loved to punch his stupid sneer off his face just this one time.
“Sorry Coach,” he put a polite voice on. “Leg was giving me bother this morning.”
Deakins looked him up and down, noticing that Draco was in fact not putting any weight on his right leg. “Healer isn’t doing a very good job?”
“Not at all, sir. My own fault, tried to run before I could walk. Just need to loosen it up.”
“Make sure you do,” Deakins spoke directly to him before turning to the rest of the squad. “You all need to be on the top of your game. Flying runs before any gameplay. Now!”
The members of the quidditch team dispersed, jumping on their brooms and taking off into the sky. Draco was a bit slower but set off eventually. He seen a whip of red hair pass by in his peripheral vision. Mentally preparing himself for a battle he was never going to win.
“You know, I’m still acting Captain. From what I can see right now, I’m going to repeat my earlier thoughts – I don’t think you should be on the pitch just yet.”
“Red, what happened to butting out of people’s business? Not capable of it?”
Ginny huffed, coming head-to-head with Draco’s broom. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said the other day. It was harsh, but necessary. As much as I would love to watch you wither away to nothing for what Hermione has gone through, you’re my Captain, so I can’t very well allow that to happen.”
Draco looked at Ginny, a sign for some sort of funniness and that she never meant any of that, but there was none. Just genuine concern. Of course, it was for the better health of the team, but it was nice in a way. “My heads in the right place.”
“You’re sure? I don’t know if I believe that.”
Draco didn’t really have much to back up his statement with. Yes, he was broken hearted over the loss of the most important person in his life, but he didn’t want to throw away a whole team’s career…
It was like it became tunnel vision. England would dominate the World Cup. They would take over the leaderboard, score more points than anyone thought possible, and they would be the King’s and Queens of Quidditch. He would make sure of it.
And there was only one way to do that…
“Meet me outside the lockers after the game. I need your help with something,” Draco almost commanded, almost asked.
Ginny’s face didn’t give her shock away. She just nodded once and flew off resuming her flying patterns.
“This is either going to be very silly, or very genius,” he whispered to nobody in particular, flying himself up into the clouds.
After he had showered and shoved grey joggies and a plain white tee on, Draco walked out the locker room and into the break room where he found Ginny waiting at the table. He was slightly surprised; he didn’t think she would make the effort to find out why he needed his help. But he knew one thing, Ginny Weasley was nosey. Nosey enough to rival Pansy.
“What do you want then?”
“Good afternoon to you to. I’m great thanks, how are you?” Draco sneered.
“Get on with it, please.” Ginny rolled her eyes.
Draco pulled a seat out, seating across from her. He pulled his wand out and cast a non-verbal silencing charm, and a strong one at that. Ginny furrowed her brows, probably wondering why he was so serious all of a sudden. The banter had stopped and now the room was just tense. Uncomfortably tense.
“Malfoy, what’s going on?”
Draco took a deep breath, quite literally contemplating his life. “I had a plan, Ginevra. The plan didn’t exactly go to plan. I need help with a new plan.”
Ginny burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, was that sentence meant to make sense?”
He fought every urge in his body to not talk back to her. “I’m serious.”
“What plan of yours didn’t go to plan?”
“You want my head back in the game. To do this, I need her. I need to prove to Granger that it was not some random in my hotel room and it was a badly timed photo. I can’t do this without evidence and my only shot of getting that evidence was fucked up.” The words spilled out in one breath. “And, I can’t ruin a whole team’s career because I’m a supposed adulterer.”
Ginny said nothing for a solid minute. She opened her mouth a few times as if to say something but decided against it. Finally, she said, “Malfoy, how many pain potions have you taken today?”
“None. I am sober.”
“Malfoy—”
“You cannot mention this to Granger. I have taken a risk telling you and I really don’t want anything jeopardising this plan.”
“This is fucking diabolical.”
“I know.”
“If it didn’t go to plan, it’s gone to shit already.”
“I know.”
“You could pay them for it.”
“I know.”
“But you’re trying to do this ethically.”
“Yes.”
Ginny hummed, sitting back and elevating her feet on the chair beside her. “You’re craaazy.”
“Possibly.”
“Are the other snakes in on this?”
“Maybe.”
“Meet me at Grimmauld Place at seven. The blood magic will still recognise you.”
“Why has Potter not removed that? I thought it would’ve been against everything he stood for in the new world.”
“Protection, I guess. I don’t know, he’s away on Auror business at MACUSA, so he won’t know. Tell the rest of them.”
“You’re all batshit crazy, of course they wouldn’t just tell you without an incentive. It’s a newspaper company, they literally survive on blackmail.”
Ginny hadn’t laughed this time hearing the plan, but she evidently thought it was horrendous given the look on her face when Draco had finished explaining what had happened at the Daily Prophet. “And you all thought this was a good idea? The two of them just walking in the place and demanding that they tell you what you need to hear?”
Draco winced. “Okay well when you put it like that Ginevra, it doesn’t sound the best obviously.”
“And you all let him do this? Unbelievable,” Ginny scoffed.
Pansy’s nostrils flared and before anyone could open their mouth she had begun her attack. “We wouldn’t have to talk Draco out of these stupid fucking plans unless your stupid fucking best friend would use her almighty brain power and realise she’s the one in the wrong.”
“Hermione had no other proof—”
“Bullshit! She knew Draco loved her! He never would’ve cheated on her!” Theo yelled.
“Ladies! Please,” Blaise said. “Doesn’t matter now. We’re all in for finding who done this so we will work together, and we will discover who done it.”
Ginny murmured a sorry and Pansy folded her arms – her version of an apology.
“You said you had the newspaper still?” Ginny questioned.
Pansy nodded, pulling it out of her bag. Ginny took it, scanning the front page. Seeing her confusion, Theo spoke up. “It’s not there, we thought it was weird too. Wasn’t on the front page at all.”
Ginny flicked through the paper, looking for the article. “It’s on page twenty. After the gossip columns and the breaking news stories continued. You’d think it would be in Padma’s bloody nonsense. It’s in the most random place and—” She abruptly stopped her sentence.
“Did you have a point or?”
“It’s just before the general goings-on. The only bloody bit of that damn newspaper Hermione cares about. It’s like it was put there for her.”
“Can someone do that? Request a specific place?” Blaise asked.
“If they paid enough. I don’t see why they would refuse it. I’m going to guess that the front page made it the next day because it didn’t matter anymore – they had bought the information.”
The weird group sat round the table, scrunching their noses their noses at the article and finishing their beers Ginny had so kindly provided. By the end of the night he felt strange. It could’ve been the biggest mistake of his life telling the best friend of his ex-wife what he was up to, but it felt like it was all he had left. The one string connecting them still. Maybe Ginny was that string.