The Malfoy Inquisition

Chapter Two

"How did you drag me into this, again?"

Ginny straightened the collar of Neville's robes as they stood at the main bar of The Leaky Cauldron, and he shifted uncomfortably all the while. "You're doing me a huge favour, remember?" she said in a hushed voice.

He shooed her away and downed the rest of his Butterbeer. "I don't know why Luna couldn't have done this."

"Nice try," Ginny said drily, "but Eloise broke up with you months ago. You need to get back on that horse."

"Right," Neville said, then turned to the young man tending the bar. "Firewhisky, please."

"You'll be fine." Ginny gave Neville a firm pat on the shoulder. "It's almost eight, we should head in."

She pushed Neville into the function room where the event was being held, and they both went to complete their registrations as he nursed his drink. Hannah was running the event, and smiled at them both when they approached her. "Hullo!" she greeted them cheerfully, handing them each sign in sheets. "It's great to see you both!"

Neville stuttered a greeting as he glanced about the room nervously; Ginny decided she wouldn't torture him more than necessary, so took over the conversation. "It's a good turnout," she said as she glanced around the packed room, and noted the distinct lack of tall, blond males. Where on earth was Draco?

Hannah didn't seem to notice Ginny's frustration. "I know, it's amazing. I can't believe how much interest the event got – I was terrified it would flop."

Ginny offered a kind smile. "You work so hard I doubt that could ever happen. Right, Neville?"

Neville seemed startled by the mention of his own name, and actually focused on the conversation for the first time. His eyes widened as he met Hannah's gaze. "I – I – think... Often..."

Hannah raised her eyebrows. "Pardon?"

"I mean – yes," Neville glanced at Ginny to confirm this was the right answer, then looked back to Hannah, somewhat dazed. In an attempt to save the conversation, he grappled for another topic. "You run this place spectacularly."

Hannah flushed with pleasure, her eyes crinkling as she beamed at Neville. "Thank you."

Seemingly flummoxed by the success of his compliment, Neville nodded and took another long sip of his drink. Ginny waved goodbye to Hannah and led Neville away, taking the drink from his hand and patting his arm in a motherly manner. "Very smooth." She took the badge Hannah had given him, labelled with the number 8 and his name, and pinned it to his lapel.

"Shut it," Neville replied, then jumped when a stream of red sparks flew through the air over the room.

Hannah stood on a platform to one side, wand pressed to her throat to cast a spell to project her voice. "If I could please have your attention, ladies and gentlemen, the Speed Dating is about to begin! Ladies, if you would please take a seat at each of the tables around the room, and make a note of your table number on your cards. Gentlemen, if you would please gather in the middle of the room, and I will direct you to your table for the first round. You will have three minutes to get to know your date before I signal the round is complete and you move to your next partner. If you'd like to know any of your dates better, circle their corresponding number on your cards, and if luck is on your side you may have a second date in your future."

Ginny clapped Neville on the back, then moved to the nearest table and filled in her place card with the corresponding number 13 for her table. She quickly scoped the room again, more irritable than ever at Draco's absence, until a moment later a gong sounded, and a man took the chair across from her. "Hello," he said, holding his hand for her to shake, and she tried not to recoil as her own hand slid across his sweaty palm. "My name is Alphonsus."

"Hello, I’m Ginny."

"Sorry," he said, wiping his hands on his pants. "I'm kind of nervous."

Her nose wrinkled as she got a whiff of his body odour. The man was less nervous and more genuinely in need on some lessons in personal hygiene.

"That's okay," she allowed, as polite as her mother had raised her to be. "I'm sure most of us are."

He smiled brightly at her, presumably at the idea she might be nervous in his presence, and he swept a hand through his greasy, brown hair. "Well, fate must be with us if lucky number thirteen has brought me to such a beautiful partner."

Ginny crossed her arms. "Thirteen isn't traditionally lucky."

"But we were both assigned it, so it must be."

"I wasn't assigned this table, it was just the nearest when Hannah asked us to sit."

He grinned at her. "Exactly! Fate!" Alphonsus proclaimed eagerly, before telling her about the many people he knew that had successfully found long-term partners through blind-dating; Ginny thought it was more likely he’d been spending too much time in Muggle London, and seen one too many advertisement testimonials for Match.com.

After what felt like an eternity, sparks shot through the air to signal the end of the first round, and Alphonsus gave Ginny a slow wink as he bid her a farewell and moved to the next table. Ginny didn’t have long to bless Merlin for her somewhat painless escape, before another man approached, his beer slopping out of its glass and across the table as he dropped into the chair opposite her.

“Hullo, beautiful,” he slurred at her, before downing half of his beer and signalling for one of the waitresses to bring him another. “What brings you here?”

Ginny raised a brow, wondering if this guy was a dedicated drunk or if he was just a light-weight taking advantage of the inclusive drinks. “The speed dating event?”

“Right,” he agreed easily, then left her in silence for a minute in order to finish the rest of his drink. “This place is dead. Want to head back to my place for a little fun? I have a spa bath.”

“You know, normally I’d love to,” she stalled as she thought up an effectively off-putting excuse, “but my Healer told me to keep my rash dry so as not to irritate it further.”

Her date disappeared quite quickly after that, and Ginny graciously accepted his new drink on his behalf as she prepared to write-off the evening. She briefly considered walking out of the event, but she knew she couldn’t do that to Neville – or Hannah, for that matter – so she stayed where she was and steeled herself for impending doom. It wasn’t long before a shower of sparks shot across the room again, and another man appeared for next torture session.

“I see you’re fending your admirers off as effectively as usual, Weasley,” her new date said, and she choked on her drink as she recognised that deep, velvety voice.

Draco Malfoy took the seat opposite her, seemingly amused by her uncontrollable coughing, and wryly offered her his handkerchief while she tried to catch her breath. Annoyed that he’d taken her off-guard, Ginny pressed the fabric to her mouth and used the coughing fit as an excuse to gather her wits.

It was the first time she’d seen him up close and in the flesh in several years, and Ginny had to admit there was something arresting about the way his eyes locked unwaveringly on her own – and not necessarily in a bad way. He looked just as she remembered him – tall, lithe and blond – except he seemed to have finally grown into the debonair attitude he’d carried since he was young, and, as much as it irked her to admit it, it suited him well. Very well.

“Thank you,” she rasped, grudgingly, as she attempted to hand his handkerchief back, but he shook his head and gestured that she should keep it. Rolling her eyes – he probably didn’t want to come into contact with Muggle-lover germs – she shoved the thing in her pocket so as not to make a scene, thinking to herself it was typical that a poncy tosser like Draco Malfoy would carry around a handkerchief at all – and one that was monogrammed, no less.

“I can’t say you were one of the people I expected to see here,” Draco said as he settled into his chair, arm draped over the back and looking as relaxed as anything. She hated to admit it, but she could see how he managed to make it into all of those ridiculous Bachelor lists in the papers. “I thought the only thing you were willing to commit to was your career.”

Ginny snorted, well aware he was alluding to her rather public break-up with an ex-boyfriend; the one and only Harry Potter. Unfortunately, Draco had been training as an Auror at the same time as her, so he’d been an unwilling witness to more than one argument, and knew all about how Harry had tried to convince her to drop out of the course – it still grated on her to this day that Harry had ultimately succeeded. “What can I say? My job offers me things a man cannot,” Ginny quipped.

Draco smirked at her over the rim of his glass as he took a sip, his stormy, grey eyes intense as he watched her. “What is it you’re doing these days?”

“I’m an entrepreneur,” Ginny said, as she decided the conversation needed to focus back on Draco. “I hear you’ve taken up the reins at the family business?” she asked him, casually. Her instincts demanded that she play dumb in this type of scenario, but her common sense said any idiot that could read would have seen mention of him in the papers. Though she was sure she could convince Draco of her illiteracy if necessary, considering his classist views and low opinion of her upbringing...

“Not quite,” Draco said, interrupting her thoughts. “My father is still firmly in place there, and I’m not sure I’d enjoy relieving him of the burden just yet.” He paused and held her gaze again, assessing, and Ginny stifled the urge to squirm under his attention. “I actually head up one of our subsidiary companies, the Malfoy Foundation.”

Having been required to dig up most of Draco Malfoy’s life history for her investigation, Ginny was of course well aware of Draco’s role as director of the Malfoy family’s philanthropic side-project. It wasn’t difficult for her to recall her feelings of shock when she initially uncovered the fact, in order to react appropriately – well, appropriately for her, at least. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it sounds like you’re working for a charity.”

He narrowed his eyes, then smirked at her, clearly amused, and Ginny tried to ignore how attractive he was when he wasn’t busy scowling or lifting his nose in the air. “It seems I’ve become a philanthropist in my old age.”

Ginny raised a brow. “Somehow I don’t believe you’re the altruistic type.”

“Altruistic, no,” Draco said, his gaze flickering as red sparks shot through the air and signalled the end of their time together. “Opportunistic, definitely.” He rose from his chair, and Ginny mentally kicked herself that she’d had the bloody git in front of her for all this time and that they’d only managed to discuss work. "It’s been a pleasure, as always, Weasley.”

“Right back at you,” Ginny replied, then downed the remnants of her drink as Draco moved to the next table with a wide smirk. Clearly interrogation was not her forte.

---

Several dates later, Ginny found herself wishing someone would put her out of her misery. She’d tried to salvage the evening by observing Draco as he interacted with his various dates, but doing so while juggling her own partners was proving impossible.

When Neville took the chair across from her, she thought she could have burst into tears of relief. “You look like you’ve been having a fun night,” he said, and from the flush of his cheeks she could tell he’d had a little too much to drink.

“So do you,” she said, then took his half empty glass away from him and finished the contents. At his questioning look, she shrugged. “Trust me, I need it more than you do. Meet any nice women, yet?”

He shook his head – though Ginny didn’t miss his fleeting glance towards where Hannah stood on stage surveying the room with a pleased expression – then leant close to her, conspiratorially. “These girls are crazy, Ginny. One of them proposed we get married at the end of the night.”

Ginny snorted, thinking back to one of her earlier dates. “At least that’s all she proposed.”

"Huh?"

"Never mind," she said with a shake of her head, then focused on Draco where he sat a few tables away, charming the flustered witch in front of him out of her knickers.

"Well, he showed up, at least," Neville said, when he noticed the object of her attention. "Any progress?"

"None," Ginny replied with a frown, her attention still on Draco. There was something off about his behaviour now, compared to how easy he'd been with her – as though his posture was stiffer, on edge. "We had a perfectly civil conversation about work, and then we ran out of time."

"I still don't understand why he's here, if he has a girlfriend. I didn't think Malfoy was that stupid."

Ginny nodded, looking at Neville again as Draco tilted his head and happened to glance in their direction, a small smirk on his lips. "You're right, it doesn't make any sense." She let her gaze return to Draco, inwardly flinching when his eyes locked on hers again. "Bollox, he caught me looking."

"Maybe he likes you," Neville joked, and Ginny laughed half-heartedly. Somehow she wasn't as repulsed by the thought as she ought to have been. "At least that would solve your case faster."

"Don't tempt me."

The round ended shortly thereafter, and Ginny ensured she had a strong drink in front of her to ease the rest of her evening before she reluctantly let Neville go.

She barely noticed the scuffle by her table as she took a long sip, then promptly choked on her drink again when Draco took the seat across from her. "We have to stop meeting like this," he said slyly, his smirk widening as she covered her mouth with the handkerchief he'd supplied her with earlier. "You really don't hold your alcohol as well as I recall, you know."

"Har, har," she said, returning the handkerchief to her purse. "I'm quite sure this isn't how speed dating works, Malfoy."

He shrugged, unrepentant. "We weren't finished."

Ginny glanced at Hannah, who was still surveying the room but not looking concerned by this turn of events. "Weren't we?" she asked, curiously.

Draco's smile was nothing short of devilish as he leant towards her over the table. "Be honest... I'm not your favourite person in the world, but my conversation is far superior to anyone else's here."

Attempting to look unfazed by his pretty face – and the fact he was probably right – she wondered what he was playing at. Obviously his motivations were not wholly innocent, and it made her wonder if Neville had been onto something. "I think you're just projecting your own thoughts onto me," she said, making sure to smile at him cheekily and reflecting his posture just enough that the neckline of her top would reveal a decent amount of cleavage; suddenly she wished she'd worn something a little sexier than her camisole, crochet shrug and cropped jeans.

His gaze didn't waver – and Ginny made a note to revisit her sociopath diagnosis – though his smile widened just a smidge. "I can assure you, Ginevra, my thoughts are preoccupied with an entirely different subject."

"Do tell, Draco," she prompted, and hoped that her name on his lips had nothing to do with the way she'd nearly moaned his.

Draco took a long sip of his drink, gaze locked on hers with a heated intensity that was totally at odds with everything else about his appearance. Ginny shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs, as she tried to work out when the room had gotten so warm. "I'm afraid it's not particularly polite dinner conversation."

Definitely flirting, she thought, reassured, as she took a sip of her drink to consider if she would encourage him. It was only some harmless flirting, after all. "Perhaps you can tell me some other time, then."

"Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were propositioning me."

"Don't be ridiculous; I'd need at least another two drinks before I'd have the courage for that."

Expression deadpan, he immediately raised a hand to flag down the waitress, and Ginny couldn't help her laugh. Who knew Draco Malfoy had a sense of humour? "Taking advantage of me, Draco?"

"Please," he said, leaning back in his chair once more. "I doubt you've ever been taken advantage of in your life."

"I'm sure you'll still give it a red-hot try..." You rat, she added silently, fluttering her lashes at him.

"That sounds like a challenge."

She took another sip of her drink, shrugging so that her shirt slipped slightly off one shoulder. "You'll have to wait and see."

He looked at her, expression unreadable, then tilted his head in order to survey the room. "How about you and I get out of here?"

Well, now, Ginny thought, as she fought to keep her expression blank. "Where to?"

"Somewhere more private, perhaps?"

The cheating bastard was really trying it on with her, of all people – Ginny was definitely drawing the line at that. Thank Merlin she'd decided to come up with a cover story. "Actually, I don't think I can, tonight. You see, I dragged Neville along to this thing, and he definitely needs to have an eye kept on him."

The two of them looked over at the next table, where Neville's date seemed to be growing increasingly offended with every word that rushed out of Neville's mouth. "I see what you mean," Draco said, then turned back to Ginny. "Well, perhaps I could join you both for a drink afterwards – if you're not opposed to a third wheel."

That seemed fairly harmless... And it would give her more time to grill him for information. Obviously he was interested in a potential affair, but Ginny would need to find some other evidence besides first-hand. "Of course. It'll be good to catch up, some more."