Springfic: "The Department of Department Regulation" for dognmonkeyshow
Title: The Department of Department Regulation
Author: Curia_Regis
Recipient: dognmonkeyshow
Character(s): Draco Malfoy, a few OCs, and a few minor characters
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~4,400 words
Warnings (if any): None
Summary: It all started with Draco's new job at the Department of Department Regulation.
Author's Notes: Thank you so much to my beta who is made of awesome! Thank you also to the mods who were wonderful.
Beta: turningleft (E)
The Department of Department Regulation
It all started with Draco's new job at the Ministry. Or, more accurately, it started with his job interview.
It was the only job interview that he had gotten in months. The last interview that Draco had gotten had gone so incredibly badly that he'd finally started to consider putting Draco Black on his resumes. It was conceivable that he could have taken his mother's maiden name after the war and the death of his father. He hadn't, but it was certainly possible that he could have! He had entered the offices of Peterson, Peterson and Petrov and introduced himself to the plump receptionist who gave him a look of fear and had promptly run away out to the back. Five minutes later, one of the Petersons had come out to tell him that the job was no longer available.
This time, Draco reflected, it had gone a lot better. For one thing, nobody had run away from him. For another, the person sitting behind the huge mahogany desk was actually smiling and nodding cheerfully as if the gibberish Draco was spouting about teamwork and work ethics actually made sense.
To be honest, Draco wasn't terribly enthused about working for The Department of Department Regulation. For one thing, he had never heard of the department before. For another, he hadn't a clue what the department actually did.
"We regulate the other departments," the receptionist had told him cheerfully when he had casually asked her the question.
Draco had nodded and tried to look like it made sense to him. He had only applied for this department because none of the other departments would hire him, and he hadn't even expected to get an interview.
"Congratulations!" the portly, red-faced man behind the desk was saying merrily as he shook Draco's hand vigorously. Apparently, the interview was over already. Draco tried to keep the look of puzzlement off his face, but he must not have succeeded because the man added, "You have the job, Mr Malfoy!"
Draco blinked. "Thank you," he said, trying hard to remember the man's name. "You'll have to forgive me, but isn't that a bit fast? Aren't there other applicants? Not that I wouldn't love the job, but…" Draco trailed off.
The man leaned forward and regarded Draco through twinkling eyes, and Draco was suddenly reminded of Dumbledore. "I run this department, Mr Malfoy. I can hire anybody I like. And I like you, Mr Malfoy. You are the perfect candidate for the job."
"Thank you," Draco said again, feeling a bit dazed.
"You start on Monday," the man said happily. "Everything will be explained then."
-
As Draco was walking out of the main Ministry building, he suddenly realised that he had no idea what he was going to be doing in this new job. He supposed that he would most likely be doing filing, as that seemed to be the average job that people straight out of Hogwarts got. Except for the lucky few who ended up in Quidditch or as an Auror, most of Draco's classmates spent their weekdays filing thousands upon thousands of files. These files were designed to not be tampered with by magic so all the filing had to be done by hand.
If somebody had told Draco that this job was going to drag him into investigating a murder, he would have laughed at them.
If somebody had told him that the murder was intimately connected with him, he would have told them to seek help in St Mungo's.
If Draco had truly known where his new job would lead, he would have quit right then and there.
-
The attractive receptionist smiled when Draco walked in on Monday morning. "Mr Salt is currently away, but he said that your first case was left on your desk."
Draco was mystified. His first case? His desk? He didn't even know he had a desk. "I'm afraid Mr Salt didn't have time to show me around yet," he ventured. "I'm not sure where my desk is."
She gave him a conspiratorial grin. "That's just like him. He tends to be a bit vague at times." She walked out from behind her desk and shook Draco's hand. "My name's Sandy. I'll show you to your desk." She walked off, and Draco couldn't help watching the wriggle of her arse.
Draco followed her to a small cramped corner where a small desk sat with a singularly uncomfortable-looking chair in front of it. "Thanks, Sandy," he said wearily as she pointed at the desk.
"Let me know if you need anything," she said and walked off with a cheerful wave.
Draco let out a sigh and sat down at his new desk. It was surprising, but the chair was more uncomfortable than it looked. He knew that he was going to have a backache before the day was done. Well, he told himself mentally, you're poor now. You have to make do.
There was a file sitting on the middle of the desk. Draco opened it and almost fell backwards in shock.
There, plain as day, was the title of the file:
Murder Investigation: Lucius Malfoy.
-
Calmly, Draco closed the file and then reopened it. The words remained there, taunting him.
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
He had spent months inquiring at the Auror Office about the death of his father. About six months ago, Draco had come home to find his father sprawled out on the foyer of Malfoy Manor. This was surprising in two aspects.
Firstly, his father was supposed to have been serving two concurrent life sentences in Azkaban and secondly, it seemed that Lucius Malfoy had been bleeding excessively from a wound to the temple.
The Auror Office had come, perfunctorily looked over the scene and had ruled it a suicide. The cause had been a Muggle gunshot wound to the head.
Draco couldn't even begin to list the number of ways that seemed improbable to him. The inquest had claimed that his father must have escaped from Azkaban, somehow procured a Muggle gun and then come home to shoot himself. No matter how many times Draco tried to insist that his father was most definitely not suicidal, and would certainly have not used a Muggle weapon, he was ignored.
Eventually, the Auror Office had stopped answering his owls.
Draco opened his eyes and stared down at the file in front of him. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The Head of the Auror Office who had come to see him after his twentieth owl had been a pompous, self-important, rotund man who told him that his father's death was "poetic justice".
Yet, it seemed that the Auror Office had a murder investigation open on his father this entire time. And how on earth had it ended up on his desk?
"Ah!" Draco spun around on his chair and saw his boss standing there. "I see you have found your desk," the man said happily.
"Mr Salt," Draco began but was interrupted.
"Jeremiah Salt, but call me Jerry."
Draco pursed his lips. The man did look like a Jerry. "I…"
"I see you have found the file," Jerry said cheerfully. "You don't have any problems with working this particular file, do you?"
"Er," Draco said. "You do realise that you just put me on the case of investigating my own father's murder." He could still remember the paleness of his father's skin and how much Azkaban seemed to have changed him.
Jerry frowned. "No," he said, "you will be investigating the Auror Office's conduct during their investigation of your father's murder. That is completely different."
Draco certainly didn't agree, but he suspected that arguing would be useless. "Well, okay then."
Jerry beamed at him. "You have the full authority of this department behind you." He leaned over and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "People don't know this, but we are one of the most powerful departments within the Ministry."
Somehow, Draco didn't believe him.
-
It took Draco an entire week to realise that Jeremiah Salt was right. That fat little cheerful man was probably one of the most powerful men in the Ministry and the scariest thing was that nobody else knew about it. Everywhere Draco went, every time he said that he came from The Department of Department Regulation, he was given a dirty look.
Draco spent the better part of the week trawling through the entire case history of his father's file. The Auror Office had grudgingly handed over their extra documents on the case.
Of course, when Draco got back to his desk with the papers, he realised that the Auror Office had given him their lunch menu for the next year as well as several travel request forms and several other tiny boxes of extraneous materials.
With a sigh, Draco enlarged the nearest box and began rifling through the papers at random.
The file Jerry had originally given him was nearly useless. It was a sanitised version of the truth. In fact, the names of the investigating officers were blanked out, as were some of the more pertinent details of the investigation. Reading through the file had given Draco no more information than what he already had, except that his father's death was a murder. He had gone to Jerry to ask what he could do to get more information.
"I can't possibly investigate these people if I don't even know who they are!" he had protested.
Jerry had nodded and waved an absent-minded hand at him. "Then go and find that out," he suggested.
And that was precisely why Draco was sitting at his desk, surrounded by miniaturised boxes and one enlarged one.
-
The first thing Draco found out was that the Auror Office had given out his father's case to two rookie Aurors who had just left Hogwarts. In fact, Draco frowned; he thought he recognised one of the names. Katie Bell. He thought she might have been one of the Gryffindor Quidditch players. The other name, Miranda Maple, was unknown to him.
It seemed that Bell and Maple had examined the crime scene only once. Draco couldn't remember them being ever there, but he did recall that he was escorted out of Malfoy Manor that night by another Auror who cited security concerns.
Maple's report was lengthy, but ultimately, Draco found it useless. She was somebody enamoured of details. He suspected she wouldn't last long in the Auror Department and would be better suited to measuring the thickness of cauldron bottoms.
Bell's report was a whole other matter.
At first, Draco had been equally disappointed it. It was exactly a page in length and ended quite abruptly on a point of speculation. The next page in the box was simply a report by the Head Auror on the case and how it had been ruled a suicide.
Something made Draco look back on Bell's report though. It didn't look right. It ended precisely at the end of the page.
He frowned. It was almost as though somebody had removed the rest of her report.
But that was ridiculous, wasn't it?
It would require a conspiracy among at least some members of the Auror Office.
Draco was about to dismiss the idea when he looked carefully at the bottom of the pieces of paper. Bell hadn't numbered her pages, however, Maple had been conscientious to number her pages, and include the total number of pages as well. Maple's report ended on page seventeen, but according to her numbering system, there were a total of twenty-nine pages.
That was eleven missing pages, Draco realised.
He needed to speak to Katie Bell.
-
Katie Bell was remarkably difficult to find. Draco inquired at the Auror Office, but was told that she had taken an extended leave of absence. It was only after a few days of futile searching that he suddenly realised that at school she had been friends with Oliver Wood.
From him, Draco learned that she was staying at her aunt's place in central London.
When she opened the door of the apartment, Draco couldn't help noticing that for all her neat pristine pressed clothes, she still had dark circles under her eyes. "Miss Bell?" he inquired.
To his surprise, she slumped against the doorframe. "I should have known you'd track me down."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
-
Draco found himself seated on a surprisingly comfortable, squishy armchair while Katie - she had insisted he use her given name - sat on the opposite couch. "So," Draco said, when it became apparent that Katie wasn't going to say anything. "What made you think that I was going to come here."
She tilted her head and looked at him with slightly bloodshot eyes. Draco noticed her fingers were trembling. "They told me not to say anything. They doctored my report and safely filed the case away under suicide."
Draco could feel his heart beating faster. "So you found something?" he asked.
She looked at him. "I thought you were working for Internal Affairs. Aren't you supposed to be investigating our conduct, not the case?"
Draco winced at the Muggle name for the department. "I'm investigating both," he said smoothly.
Katie scrutinised him. Draco suspected that she wasn't fooled. "I didn't find anything concrete," she said finally. "Just a few things that didn't add up, like the lack of fingerprints on the weapon and the unusual contortion of the body. I put them in my report along with speculation that it wasn't suicide." She hesitated. "I'm sorry about his death."
Draco frowned and decided to stay to the point. "And who changed the report?"
She shrugged. "All I know is that the Head of the Auror Office asked me personally. I tendered my resignation with my agreement."
Draco couldn't help but think that was very much of a Gryffindor-ish action. Not that he didn't appreciate it in his current state, but he suspected that he wouldn't have done the same.
-
The Head of the Auror Office was a small, round man, with squinty eyes named Robert Thames. Draco hadn't liked the look of him much when he had been insisting Lucius's death was a suicide and he certainly didn't like him much now that he was investigating him for the wrongful handling of a case.
Draco slammed his fist into the table and was gratified to see Thames jump. The Auror Office was one of the many places that had refused Draco employment. He took rather perverse pleasure in seeing the control he had over their leader now. "I'm investigating your conduct in one of your cases," he said.
Thames's face took on an oily expression. "Which case might that be, Mr Malfoy?"
"The murder of Lucius Malfoy."
Draco watched as Thames's face stiffened imperceptibly before relaxing at the word 'murder'. It was obvious that the man had been complicit in something. Draco wanted to know how much. If Thames had any role in the death of his father, well, Draco suspected that he would have his wand jammed in the throat of the other man before Thames could blink or stroke his goatee again.
"I have a sworn affidavit from one Katie Bell that you forced her to change her report against her will." Draco waved a piece of paper in the air and hoped that Thames wasn't going to demand to see it. It was actually a lunch menu from the Auror Office.
Thames turned pale. "I had nothing to do with it."
"That's not what Miss Bell said," Draco countered. "Surely you know that tampering with an open investigation is a serious offence. The Department of Department Regulation doesn't look upon such offences lightly."
Thames's face crumpled. "It wasn't my fault!" he burst out. "What could I do? I was under such pressure! And the things he said!"
Draco resisted the urge to bang his head on the expensive-looking desk. It was beginning to look like Thames had been ordered to cover this up by some third party. "And who is this person who told you to this?"
Thames shook his head.
Draco leaned forward and glared at the other man. He knew that he had quite an intimidating stare when he chose to use it. "If you do not tell me, then I can ensure that you're out of the job. Just like that." He snapped his fingers underneath the other man's nose, glad to see Thames wince. Watching Snape intimidate students in Potions class for seven years had taught Draco a few things.
As Draco watched, he saw Thames visibly pull himself together, sitting up straighter in his chair and for the first time in a few minutes, he actually met Draco's gaze. "If I do tell you then…" Thames trailed off and gave a faint smile. "I have a wife and two young children at home."
"We can protect you," Draco insisted. He wasn't actually sure whether they could or not, but he certainly wasn't going to let this opportunity of catching the man who murdered his father get away.
Thames snorted. "You can't." He waved a hand at Draco. "I kindly ask you to please leave now." He extended a hand out for Draco to shake.
Draco shook it.
-
Once outside of the office, Draco unfolded the scrap of paper that Thames had handed him during their brief handshake. He had to hand it to the other man, it was an ingenious way of passing on information.
On the piece of paper were three words that made Draco's blood run cold.
Minister of Magic
-
"Are you positive?" Jerry asked, his face serious for once.
Draco handed the other man the note. "How much clearer could that be? It seems that Kingsley Shacklebolt has been implicated in this. He killed my father." Draco's fingers clenched his armrests.
Jerry raised an eyebrow.
"And he subverted an Auror investigation," Draco said hastily.
Jerry shook his head. "I don't believe this," he said. "I've known Shacklebolt for years. We've worked together before. That man is … he's our hope for a better future. He's not going to fix an investigation and he certainly isn't a murderer."
Draco gathered his files together and resisted the urge to slap the table angrily. "You gave me full authorisation to investigate this," he reminded his boss. "My investigation has led me to the Minister of Magic and I fully intend on questioning him regarding this matter. If the Auror office is somehow compromised, or worse, if the Ministry is compromised, isn't that our job to find out how, why and eliminate the problems?"
To his surprise, Jerry smiled. "Very well put, Mr Malfoy."
-
Kingsley Shacklebolt's office was austere. The Minister himself sat behind an ordinary looking desk, regarding Draco calmly. Draco was about to speak but Shacklebolt held up a hand. "I believe I know why you're here, Mr Malfoy."
Draco blinked.
"You believe there is some sort of wide-ranging conspiracy among the Ministry employees, especially those of the Auror Office, where I am one of the masterminds of some sort of evil plan that ended up in the death of your father?"
Draco stared. Over the past few days, he had imagined something like that, but he certainly hadn't voiced his fears to anybody else. "Well, is there a conspiracy?" he asked bluntly, not really expecting Shacklebolt to answer.
"Certainly," Shacklebolt said smoothly.
Draco could feel his jaw go slack. He was careful to close his mouth before he did something irretrievably embarrassing, like starting to drool or something. "Let me get this clear. You admit that there was a conspiracy among high-ranking members of the Ministry regarding the death of my father?" He could feel anger bubbling up in his stomach. "You killed my father?"
Shacklebolt held up his hand. "Perhaps, I was a bit too hasty in my answer. There has been a cover-up, yes, but it isn't a conspiracy in the usual sense."
"No?" Draco snapped. "So you just told Katie Bell to remove ten pages of her report for no apparent reason?"
"All I did was inform the head of the Auror Office that it would be best for everybody concerned - yes, even you, Mr Malfoy - if your father's death was ruled a suicide."
"I talked to Thames yesterday," Draco said coldly. "The man was frightened to death of you."
Shacklebolt laughed softly. "I assure you, Mr Malfoy, that I did not threaten Thames in any way. I did not kill your father, either."
"Then who did?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
Draco ground his teeth together. This was altogether the most frustrating, albeit the most informative, interview he had ever done. "You still orchestrated a cover-up," he pointed out. "I am authorised by the Department of Department Regulation to suspend you from your duties pending a further review by my superior."
Shacklebolt tilted his head and stared at Draco. "Don't you even want to know why there was a cover-up in the first place?"
"That isn't pertinent to my investigation," Draco said tightly.
Shacklebolt continued as if he hadn't heard Draco. "Our peace is fragile. I'm sure a man like yourself can appreciate this. It could shatter at any point. Your father was a threat to peace."
"Don't be ridiculous," Draco spat out. "My father was in Azkaban. He wasn't a threat to anybody any more."
"Your father was one of … Voldemort's Death Eaters. Would you agree that he was close to Voldemort himself?"
After a brief hesitation, Draco nodded. It was public knowledge anyway.
"It seemed that Voldemort had passed onto your father a few pieces of important information on the creation of Horcruxes. Your father had spent the past few years in Azkaban attempting to procure the ingredients to create one himself."
Draco stared. "Don't be ridiculous. Besides, how on earth would he manage it in Azkaban?"
"Security in Azkaban is not as tight as we would like," Shacklebolt admitted. "It would be possible. A certain person discovered this and was horrified. This person felt personally responsible if another Voldemort was released on the wizarding world. The person bribed the guards at Azkaban. Your father escaped to go back to Malfoy Manor and, you know the rest."
"I'm sure you know how ridiculous that story sounds," Draco said, his anger coiled tightly in his chest. "But let's assume for a minute that it's true. Where is this person now? The person who took the law into his own hands and killed my father."
"In Azkaban."
Draco was surprised yet again.
"Of course," Shacklebolt continued, "unfortunately you'll have to take my word on that. We do not wish to release the identity of this particular prisoner for fear of retaliation." He gave Draco a pointed look.
"I'm not going to hunt this person down and kill him, if that's what you're afraid of," Draco said tightly. He had to admit he'd thought of doing so before, but it ultimately wouldn't be worth it. "But I do want to see justice served, and this story doesn't explain anything!"
"It does," Shacklebolt said, still using that calm slow tone. "We're on the brink of anarchy, did you know that? We can't let anything upset the public consciousness. The idea that your father might have been fashioning himself into another Voldemort would have definitely pushed our stock market over the edge and created mass panic."
As much as Draco didn't want to admit it, what Shacklebolt was saying made sense. "So you let me think that my father had killed himself?" There was something so surreal about this conversation that Draco almost pinched himself. A feeling of unease was beginning to replace his anger though. Even though Shacklebolt made sense, Draco still had the feeling that the other man was wrong. Not just about his father, but about his whole approach to the situation.
"I apologise, but it was necessary for the public good."
"The public good," Draco echoed.
Shacklebolt rubbed his palms together briskly. "Of course, I understand that you still have the authorisation to suspend my activities as Minister of Magic. How did you put it? Pending a full investigation? However, I suggest that you discuss it with your boss at the department before making any rash decisions."
Draco stood up slowly.
-
"I'm not saying I agree with his methods, Draco," Jerry said softly, "but you know the state of our world at the moment. Something like this could destabilise the peace."
"My father's dead," Draco snapped.
"And his killer is in prison," Jerry pointed out.
Draco's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying that you won't support me if I choose to further this investigation?"
"I'm saying that you should calm down before you make any decisions you might regret."
Draco glared at his boss. "This could be some sort of ridiculously elaborate hoax by Shacklebolt. He might not be telling the truth. How am I supposed to just trust him that the person who killed my father is in Azkaban?"
Jerry stood up. "I'm asking you to wait a few days." He pointed towards Draco's desk. "There's another case for you to work on. Something easier, this time."
Draco narrowed his eyes. "You're just putting me off," he accused.
"I'm asking you to wait," Jerry repeated. "Let me handle this."
-
A few days later, Draco sat at his desk, chewing at the end of a quill. He was surprised at the aptitude he had for this job. Briefly, he wondered what it said about him that he was able to think like the people he was investigating for fraud, embezzling and murder, so easily. He suspected most people would say, once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin.
Jerry stopped by his desk and Draco looked up. "Congratulations on finishing the Burke case."
Draco nodded perfunctorily.
"You have an aptitude for this kind of work, Mr Malfoy," Jerry said cheerfully. "I knew this when I hired you."
Draco shrugged.
"Oh, by the way," Jerry said casually, "have you seen the cover of tomorrow's Prophet?"
Draco was about to shake his head when he suddenly stopped. "Tomorrow's?" he repeated incredulously.
"Yes," Jerry said, with a bright smile, "I have friends at the newspaper and they gave me an advanced copy. You might find the top story interesting." He handed a copy of the paper over to Draco. With a cheery wave, Jerry left.
Draco picked up the newspaper slowly and unfolded it. There, in bold print was the headline:
Horace Slughorn dies in mysterious circumstances while in Azkaban.
-fin
Author: Curia_Regis
Recipient: dognmonkeyshow
Character(s): Draco Malfoy, a few OCs, and a few minor characters
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~4,400 words
Warnings (if any): None
Summary: It all started with Draco's new job at the Department of Department Regulation.
Author's Notes: Thank you so much to my beta who is made of awesome! Thank you also to the mods who were wonderful.
Beta: turningleft (E)
The Department of Department Regulation
It all started with Draco's new job at the Ministry. Or, more accurately, it started with his job interview.
It was the only job interview that he had gotten in months. The last interview that Draco had gotten had gone so incredibly badly that he'd finally started to consider putting Draco Black on his resumes. It was conceivable that he could have taken his mother's maiden name after the war and the death of his father. He hadn't, but it was certainly possible that he could have! He had entered the offices of Peterson, Peterson and Petrov and introduced himself to the plump receptionist who gave him a look of fear and had promptly run away out to the back. Five minutes later, one of the Petersons had come out to tell him that the job was no longer available.
This time, Draco reflected, it had gone a lot better. For one thing, nobody had run away from him. For another, the person sitting behind the huge mahogany desk was actually smiling and nodding cheerfully as if the gibberish Draco was spouting about teamwork and work ethics actually made sense.
To be honest, Draco wasn't terribly enthused about working for The Department of Department Regulation. For one thing, he had never heard of the department before. For another, he hadn't a clue what the department actually did.
"We regulate the other departments," the receptionist had told him cheerfully when he had casually asked her the question.
Draco had nodded and tried to look like it made sense to him. He had only applied for this department because none of the other departments would hire him, and he hadn't even expected to get an interview.
"Congratulations!" the portly, red-faced man behind the desk was saying merrily as he shook Draco's hand vigorously. Apparently, the interview was over already. Draco tried to keep the look of puzzlement off his face, but he must not have succeeded because the man added, "You have the job, Mr Malfoy!"
Draco blinked. "Thank you," he said, trying hard to remember the man's name. "You'll have to forgive me, but isn't that a bit fast? Aren't there other applicants? Not that I wouldn't love the job, but…" Draco trailed off.
The man leaned forward and regarded Draco through twinkling eyes, and Draco was suddenly reminded of Dumbledore. "I run this department, Mr Malfoy. I can hire anybody I like. And I like you, Mr Malfoy. You are the perfect candidate for the job."
"Thank you," Draco said again, feeling a bit dazed.
"You start on Monday," the man said happily. "Everything will be explained then."
-
As Draco was walking out of the main Ministry building, he suddenly realised that he had no idea what he was going to be doing in this new job. He supposed that he would most likely be doing filing, as that seemed to be the average job that people straight out of Hogwarts got. Except for the lucky few who ended up in Quidditch or as an Auror, most of Draco's classmates spent their weekdays filing thousands upon thousands of files. These files were designed to not be tampered with by magic so all the filing had to be done by hand.
If somebody had told Draco that this job was going to drag him into investigating a murder, he would have laughed at them.
If somebody had told him that the murder was intimately connected with him, he would have told them to seek help in St Mungo's.
If Draco had truly known where his new job would lead, he would have quit right then and there.
-
The attractive receptionist smiled when Draco walked in on Monday morning. "Mr Salt is currently away, but he said that your first case was left on your desk."
Draco was mystified. His first case? His desk? He didn't even know he had a desk. "I'm afraid Mr Salt didn't have time to show me around yet," he ventured. "I'm not sure where my desk is."
She gave him a conspiratorial grin. "That's just like him. He tends to be a bit vague at times." She walked out from behind her desk and shook Draco's hand. "My name's Sandy. I'll show you to your desk." She walked off, and Draco couldn't help watching the wriggle of her arse.
Draco followed her to a small cramped corner where a small desk sat with a singularly uncomfortable-looking chair in front of it. "Thanks, Sandy," he said wearily as she pointed at the desk.
"Let me know if you need anything," she said and walked off with a cheerful wave.
Draco let out a sigh and sat down at his new desk. It was surprising, but the chair was more uncomfortable than it looked. He knew that he was going to have a backache before the day was done. Well, he told himself mentally, you're poor now. You have to make do.
There was a file sitting on the middle of the desk. Draco opened it and almost fell backwards in shock.
There, plain as day, was the title of the file:
Murder Investigation: Lucius Malfoy.
-
Calmly, Draco closed the file and then reopened it. The words remained there, taunting him.
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
He had spent months inquiring at the Auror Office about the death of his father. About six months ago, Draco had come home to find his father sprawled out on the foyer of Malfoy Manor. This was surprising in two aspects.
Firstly, his father was supposed to have been serving two concurrent life sentences in Azkaban and secondly, it seemed that Lucius Malfoy had been bleeding excessively from a wound to the temple.
The Auror Office had come, perfunctorily looked over the scene and had ruled it a suicide. The cause had been a Muggle gunshot wound to the head.
Draco couldn't even begin to list the number of ways that seemed improbable to him. The inquest had claimed that his father must have escaped from Azkaban, somehow procured a Muggle gun and then come home to shoot himself. No matter how many times Draco tried to insist that his father was most definitely not suicidal, and would certainly have not used a Muggle weapon, he was ignored.
Eventually, the Auror Office had stopped answering his owls.
Draco opened his eyes and stared down at the file in front of him. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The Head of the Auror Office who had come to see him after his twentieth owl had been a pompous, self-important, rotund man who told him that his father's death was "poetic justice".
Yet, it seemed that the Auror Office had a murder investigation open on his father this entire time. And how on earth had it ended up on his desk?
"Ah!" Draco spun around on his chair and saw his boss standing there. "I see you have found your desk," the man said happily.
"Mr Salt," Draco began but was interrupted.
"Jeremiah Salt, but call me Jerry."
Draco pursed his lips. The man did look like a Jerry. "I…"
"I see you have found the file," Jerry said cheerfully. "You don't have any problems with working this particular file, do you?"
"Er," Draco said. "You do realise that you just put me on the case of investigating my own father's murder." He could still remember the paleness of his father's skin and how much Azkaban seemed to have changed him.
Jerry frowned. "No," he said, "you will be investigating the Auror Office's conduct during their investigation of your father's murder. That is completely different."
Draco certainly didn't agree, but he suspected that arguing would be useless. "Well, okay then."
Jerry beamed at him. "You have the full authority of this department behind you." He leaned over and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "People don't know this, but we are one of the most powerful departments within the Ministry."
Somehow, Draco didn't believe him.
-
It took Draco an entire week to realise that Jeremiah Salt was right. That fat little cheerful man was probably one of the most powerful men in the Ministry and the scariest thing was that nobody else knew about it. Everywhere Draco went, every time he said that he came from The Department of Department Regulation, he was given a dirty look.
Draco spent the better part of the week trawling through the entire case history of his father's file. The Auror Office had grudgingly handed over their extra documents on the case.
Of course, when Draco got back to his desk with the papers, he realised that the Auror Office had given him their lunch menu for the next year as well as several travel request forms and several other tiny boxes of extraneous materials.
With a sigh, Draco enlarged the nearest box and began rifling through the papers at random.
The file Jerry had originally given him was nearly useless. It was a sanitised version of the truth. In fact, the names of the investigating officers were blanked out, as were some of the more pertinent details of the investigation. Reading through the file had given Draco no more information than what he already had, except that his father's death was a murder. He had gone to Jerry to ask what he could do to get more information.
"I can't possibly investigate these people if I don't even know who they are!" he had protested.
Jerry had nodded and waved an absent-minded hand at him. "Then go and find that out," he suggested.
And that was precisely why Draco was sitting at his desk, surrounded by miniaturised boxes and one enlarged one.
-
The first thing Draco found out was that the Auror Office had given out his father's case to two rookie Aurors who had just left Hogwarts. In fact, Draco frowned; he thought he recognised one of the names. Katie Bell. He thought she might have been one of the Gryffindor Quidditch players. The other name, Miranda Maple, was unknown to him.
It seemed that Bell and Maple had examined the crime scene only once. Draco couldn't remember them being ever there, but he did recall that he was escorted out of Malfoy Manor that night by another Auror who cited security concerns.
Maple's report was lengthy, but ultimately, Draco found it useless. She was somebody enamoured of details. He suspected she wouldn't last long in the Auror Department and would be better suited to measuring the thickness of cauldron bottoms.
Bell's report was a whole other matter.
At first, Draco had been equally disappointed it. It was exactly a page in length and ended quite abruptly on a point of speculation. The next page in the box was simply a report by the Head Auror on the case and how it had been ruled a suicide.
Something made Draco look back on Bell's report though. It didn't look right. It ended precisely at the end of the page.
He frowned. It was almost as though somebody had removed the rest of her report.
But that was ridiculous, wasn't it?
It would require a conspiracy among at least some members of the Auror Office.
Draco was about to dismiss the idea when he looked carefully at the bottom of the pieces of paper. Bell hadn't numbered her pages, however, Maple had been conscientious to number her pages, and include the total number of pages as well. Maple's report ended on page seventeen, but according to her numbering system, there were a total of twenty-nine pages.
That was eleven missing pages, Draco realised.
He needed to speak to Katie Bell.
-
Katie Bell was remarkably difficult to find. Draco inquired at the Auror Office, but was told that she had taken an extended leave of absence. It was only after a few days of futile searching that he suddenly realised that at school she had been friends with Oliver Wood.
From him, Draco learned that she was staying at her aunt's place in central London.
When she opened the door of the apartment, Draco couldn't help noticing that for all her neat pristine pressed clothes, she still had dark circles under her eyes. "Miss Bell?" he inquired.
To his surprise, she slumped against the doorframe. "I should have known you'd track me down."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
-
Draco found himself seated on a surprisingly comfortable, squishy armchair while Katie - she had insisted he use her given name - sat on the opposite couch. "So," Draco said, when it became apparent that Katie wasn't going to say anything. "What made you think that I was going to come here."
She tilted her head and looked at him with slightly bloodshot eyes. Draco noticed her fingers were trembling. "They told me not to say anything. They doctored my report and safely filed the case away under suicide."
Draco could feel his heart beating faster. "So you found something?" he asked.
She looked at him. "I thought you were working for Internal Affairs. Aren't you supposed to be investigating our conduct, not the case?"
Draco winced at the Muggle name for the department. "I'm investigating both," he said smoothly.
Katie scrutinised him. Draco suspected that she wasn't fooled. "I didn't find anything concrete," she said finally. "Just a few things that didn't add up, like the lack of fingerprints on the weapon and the unusual contortion of the body. I put them in my report along with speculation that it wasn't suicide." She hesitated. "I'm sorry about his death."
Draco frowned and decided to stay to the point. "And who changed the report?"
She shrugged. "All I know is that the Head of the Auror Office asked me personally. I tendered my resignation with my agreement."
Draco couldn't help but think that was very much of a Gryffindor-ish action. Not that he didn't appreciate it in his current state, but he suspected that he wouldn't have done the same.
-
The Head of the Auror Office was a small, round man, with squinty eyes named Robert Thames. Draco hadn't liked the look of him much when he had been insisting Lucius's death was a suicide and he certainly didn't like him much now that he was investigating him for the wrongful handling of a case.
Draco slammed his fist into the table and was gratified to see Thames jump. The Auror Office was one of the many places that had refused Draco employment. He took rather perverse pleasure in seeing the control he had over their leader now. "I'm investigating your conduct in one of your cases," he said.
Thames's face took on an oily expression. "Which case might that be, Mr Malfoy?"
"The murder of Lucius Malfoy."
Draco watched as Thames's face stiffened imperceptibly before relaxing at the word 'murder'. It was obvious that the man had been complicit in something. Draco wanted to know how much. If Thames had any role in the death of his father, well, Draco suspected that he would have his wand jammed in the throat of the other man before Thames could blink or stroke his goatee again.
"I have a sworn affidavit from one Katie Bell that you forced her to change her report against her will." Draco waved a piece of paper in the air and hoped that Thames wasn't going to demand to see it. It was actually a lunch menu from the Auror Office.
Thames turned pale. "I had nothing to do with it."
"That's not what Miss Bell said," Draco countered. "Surely you know that tampering with an open investigation is a serious offence. The Department of Department Regulation doesn't look upon such offences lightly."
Thames's face crumpled. "It wasn't my fault!" he burst out. "What could I do? I was under such pressure! And the things he said!"
Draco resisted the urge to bang his head on the expensive-looking desk. It was beginning to look like Thames had been ordered to cover this up by some third party. "And who is this person who told you to this?"
Thames shook his head.
Draco leaned forward and glared at the other man. He knew that he had quite an intimidating stare when he chose to use it. "If you do not tell me, then I can ensure that you're out of the job. Just like that." He snapped his fingers underneath the other man's nose, glad to see Thames wince. Watching Snape intimidate students in Potions class for seven years had taught Draco a few things.
As Draco watched, he saw Thames visibly pull himself together, sitting up straighter in his chair and for the first time in a few minutes, he actually met Draco's gaze. "If I do tell you then…" Thames trailed off and gave a faint smile. "I have a wife and two young children at home."
"We can protect you," Draco insisted. He wasn't actually sure whether they could or not, but he certainly wasn't going to let this opportunity of catching the man who murdered his father get away.
Thames snorted. "You can't." He waved a hand at Draco. "I kindly ask you to please leave now." He extended a hand out for Draco to shake.
Draco shook it.
-
Once outside of the office, Draco unfolded the scrap of paper that Thames had handed him during their brief handshake. He had to hand it to the other man, it was an ingenious way of passing on information.
On the piece of paper were three words that made Draco's blood run cold.
Minister of Magic
-
"Are you positive?" Jerry asked, his face serious for once.
Draco handed the other man the note. "How much clearer could that be? It seems that Kingsley Shacklebolt has been implicated in this. He killed my father." Draco's fingers clenched his armrests.
Jerry raised an eyebrow.
"And he subverted an Auror investigation," Draco said hastily.
Jerry shook his head. "I don't believe this," he said. "I've known Shacklebolt for years. We've worked together before. That man is … he's our hope for a better future. He's not going to fix an investigation and he certainly isn't a murderer."
Draco gathered his files together and resisted the urge to slap the table angrily. "You gave me full authorisation to investigate this," he reminded his boss. "My investigation has led me to the Minister of Magic and I fully intend on questioning him regarding this matter. If the Auror office is somehow compromised, or worse, if the Ministry is compromised, isn't that our job to find out how, why and eliminate the problems?"
To his surprise, Jerry smiled. "Very well put, Mr Malfoy."
-
Kingsley Shacklebolt's office was austere. The Minister himself sat behind an ordinary looking desk, regarding Draco calmly. Draco was about to speak but Shacklebolt held up a hand. "I believe I know why you're here, Mr Malfoy."
Draco blinked.
"You believe there is some sort of wide-ranging conspiracy among the Ministry employees, especially those of the Auror Office, where I am one of the masterminds of some sort of evil plan that ended up in the death of your father?"
Draco stared. Over the past few days, he had imagined something like that, but he certainly hadn't voiced his fears to anybody else. "Well, is there a conspiracy?" he asked bluntly, not really expecting Shacklebolt to answer.
"Certainly," Shacklebolt said smoothly.
Draco could feel his jaw go slack. He was careful to close his mouth before he did something irretrievably embarrassing, like starting to drool or something. "Let me get this clear. You admit that there was a conspiracy among high-ranking members of the Ministry regarding the death of my father?" He could feel anger bubbling up in his stomach. "You killed my father?"
Shacklebolt held up his hand. "Perhaps, I was a bit too hasty in my answer. There has been a cover-up, yes, but it isn't a conspiracy in the usual sense."
"No?" Draco snapped. "So you just told Katie Bell to remove ten pages of her report for no apparent reason?"
"All I did was inform the head of the Auror Office that it would be best for everybody concerned - yes, even you, Mr Malfoy - if your father's death was ruled a suicide."
"I talked to Thames yesterday," Draco said coldly. "The man was frightened to death of you."
Shacklebolt laughed softly. "I assure you, Mr Malfoy, that I did not threaten Thames in any way. I did not kill your father, either."
"Then who did?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
Draco ground his teeth together. This was altogether the most frustrating, albeit the most informative, interview he had ever done. "You still orchestrated a cover-up," he pointed out. "I am authorised by the Department of Department Regulation to suspend you from your duties pending a further review by my superior."
Shacklebolt tilted his head and stared at Draco. "Don't you even want to know why there was a cover-up in the first place?"
"That isn't pertinent to my investigation," Draco said tightly.
Shacklebolt continued as if he hadn't heard Draco. "Our peace is fragile. I'm sure a man like yourself can appreciate this. It could shatter at any point. Your father was a threat to peace."
"Don't be ridiculous," Draco spat out. "My father was in Azkaban. He wasn't a threat to anybody any more."
"Your father was one of … Voldemort's Death Eaters. Would you agree that he was close to Voldemort himself?"
After a brief hesitation, Draco nodded. It was public knowledge anyway.
"It seemed that Voldemort had passed onto your father a few pieces of important information on the creation of Horcruxes. Your father had spent the past few years in Azkaban attempting to procure the ingredients to create one himself."
Draco stared. "Don't be ridiculous. Besides, how on earth would he manage it in Azkaban?"
"Security in Azkaban is not as tight as we would like," Shacklebolt admitted. "It would be possible. A certain person discovered this and was horrified. This person felt personally responsible if another Voldemort was released on the wizarding world. The person bribed the guards at Azkaban. Your father escaped to go back to Malfoy Manor and, you know the rest."
"I'm sure you know how ridiculous that story sounds," Draco said, his anger coiled tightly in his chest. "But let's assume for a minute that it's true. Where is this person now? The person who took the law into his own hands and killed my father."
"In Azkaban."
Draco was surprised yet again.
"Of course," Shacklebolt continued, "unfortunately you'll have to take my word on that. We do not wish to release the identity of this particular prisoner for fear of retaliation." He gave Draco a pointed look.
"I'm not going to hunt this person down and kill him, if that's what you're afraid of," Draco said tightly. He had to admit he'd thought of doing so before, but it ultimately wouldn't be worth it. "But I do want to see justice served, and this story doesn't explain anything!"
"It does," Shacklebolt said, still using that calm slow tone. "We're on the brink of anarchy, did you know that? We can't let anything upset the public consciousness. The idea that your father might have been fashioning himself into another Voldemort would have definitely pushed our stock market over the edge and created mass panic."
As much as Draco didn't want to admit it, what Shacklebolt was saying made sense. "So you let me think that my father had killed himself?" There was something so surreal about this conversation that Draco almost pinched himself. A feeling of unease was beginning to replace his anger though. Even though Shacklebolt made sense, Draco still had the feeling that the other man was wrong. Not just about his father, but about his whole approach to the situation.
"I apologise, but it was necessary for the public good."
"The public good," Draco echoed.
Shacklebolt rubbed his palms together briskly. "Of course, I understand that you still have the authorisation to suspend my activities as Minister of Magic. How did you put it? Pending a full investigation? However, I suggest that you discuss it with your boss at the department before making any rash decisions."
Draco stood up slowly.
-
"I'm not saying I agree with his methods, Draco," Jerry said softly, "but you know the state of our world at the moment. Something like this could destabilise the peace."
"My father's dead," Draco snapped.
"And his killer is in prison," Jerry pointed out.
Draco's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying that you won't support me if I choose to further this investigation?"
"I'm saying that you should calm down before you make any decisions you might regret."
Draco glared at his boss. "This could be some sort of ridiculously elaborate hoax by Shacklebolt. He might not be telling the truth. How am I supposed to just trust him that the person who killed my father is in Azkaban?"
Jerry stood up. "I'm asking you to wait a few days." He pointed towards Draco's desk. "There's another case for you to work on. Something easier, this time."
Draco narrowed his eyes. "You're just putting me off," he accused.
"I'm asking you to wait," Jerry repeated. "Let me handle this."
-
A few days later, Draco sat at his desk, chewing at the end of a quill. He was surprised at the aptitude he had for this job. Briefly, he wondered what it said about him that he was able to think like the people he was investigating for fraud, embezzling and murder, so easily. He suspected most people would say, once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin.
Jerry stopped by his desk and Draco looked up. "Congratulations on finishing the Burke case."
Draco nodded perfunctorily.
"You have an aptitude for this kind of work, Mr Malfoy," Jerry said cheerfully. "I knew this when I hired you."
Draco shrugged.
"Oh, by the way," Jerry said casually, "have you seen the cover of tomorrow's Prophet?"
Draco was about to shake his head when he suddenly stopped. "Tomorrow's?" he repeated incredulously.
"Yes," Jerry said, with a bright smile, "I have friends at the newspaper and they gave me an advanced copy. You might find the top story interesting." He handed a copy of the paper over to Draco. With a cheery wave, Jerry left.
Draco picked up the newspaper slowly and unfolded it. There, in bold print was the headline:
Horace Slughorn dies in mysterious circumstances while in Azkaban.
-fin