All the Wrong Things (The Rights and Wrongs series) #2

9

Monday, October 18, 1999

There is no letter from Father. Not yesterday. Not yet today.

And I feel like I'm in a strange bubble until it arrives. A bubble that can be popped, yes, but still floating.

I run my hands through my hair for the fourteenth time, rustling the sides. I sprayed one more spritz of my cologne than normal, and immediately regretted it, so I had to take another shower.

After one last practiced smirk to the mirror, I head to the fireplaces, grab my briefcase from Mippy and pop through to the Ministry Atrium. I keep my eyes open for her, but I'm earlier than normal, and she likes to arrive right on time and stay late.

I get settled and meet with Robards.

"Can't say I know much about Runes, myself. Elected not to take that course," Robards mutters. I nod, looking down at the file we have. "But if you have any ideas," he continued. "I'd love to hear them. Let me know if you need a second pair of eyes."

I look up at him. I take a deep breath and dive in. "I suppose I could use another person. Any chance you think Granger could be spared from downstairs?"

Robards stares at me like I've given him a brilliant idea. "Granger? Yes, yes!" He smiles wide. "The two of you make a great team!"

I shrug. "She received an Outstanding in Runes. That's all I meant."

I'm whistling as I leave Robards office, offering to walk his note downstairs for him. I duplicate it, hand the original to Mathilda, and offer to tell Granger myself.

I'm twirling my wand around my fingers when I pass O'Connor, and not even his daft grin can put off my mood.

"Morning, Malfoy!"

"Good morning, O'Connor," I say. "Is Granger in?"

"Not yet. But should be any minute!"

"Excellent." I'm walking away from him as he starts to ask about my weekend.

Her cubicle is tidy. Several files she worked through on Friday are stacked in a neat pile. She has a picture of Potter, Weasley and her from third year, and another of two people who must be her parents, also taken about the same time.

I hear her voice coming from the direction of the lift. I sit in her chair. I stand. No, no. I'll sit.

I pull a file from the stack into my lap. I hear the click of her shoes, her ugly ministry ones, no doubt. At the last moment, just before she rounds the corner, I kick my legs up onto her desk. Perfect.

She stops in the entry when she sees me.

I smirk at her. "Hello, lover."

She blushes. Her breath leaves her in a laugh. And I watch as she pulls her eyes away from me.

"Good morning, Malfoy." She busies herself with her coat and bag. "What brings you here?"

Your legs – No, don't be ridiculous, Draco.

"Robards."

"Oh? More on the dragon eggs?"

She stands there, useless. I've completely thrown her off.

Excellent.

"Oh, no. That all got settled on Friday. Buyer caught and under questioning." I send her a grin. "I would have thought it would make the papers, but apparently there were more important things to report this weekend."

Merlin, I'm good. I can't believe how easy it is to bring up the article. I have to refrain from winking at her.

"Right. Apparently." She smiles back and I feel my blood humming. She turns to her cabinets, trying to get ready for the day, but she'll just have to work around me. I'll stay in this chair and if she wants to work, she'll have to sit in my lap. She continues, "I've written to Skeeter to ask her to correct some of her glaring inaccuracies. I would have thought the corrections would have made today's Prophet, but hopefully this week."