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With apologies for the technical disturbances and the delay they caused, Episode #7 for your entertainment:

Episode number and title: Episode #7 – A Whiter Shade of Pale
Episode writer: [livejournal.com profile] romaine24
Episode editor: [livejournal.com profile] vaysh11
Episode summary: Draco gets assigned a new Cold Case partner, while Harry is off with DI Iris Bustamant investigating dead Muggles, Squibs and Wizards. Draco thinks creating a magical HOLMES will get him back working with Harry. However, a bottle brandy and autumn leaves could prove to be the key.

Sweat is gathering at my temples and the nape of my neck as I pull back the makeshift cover and reach for the crystal doorknob. Mother had always insisted upon crystal knobs in the house. She thought they brought good luck. Obviously she was wrong. The moments were increasing when I needed to be wrapped in warmth away from the barren air of London. What this meant after all of these years isn't worth ruminating over. The door cracks open, and I put my weight against the carved door, budging it until I can squeeze in. I take a deep breath inhaling the heavy scent of my lovely belongings which I know are being gnawed by age and vermin. If the boy was here I'd have him take care of the latter, but he won't accompany me anymore. I step in and shut the door. A large spider floats down from the ceiling before me into the narrow pathway. I swat the single strand away with my hand. The spider lands on the ground and scurries under the scrolls scattered about. In my younger years I would have Accio'd it and pulled its legs off one by one for having the audacity to enter my room. But now, I let it be. I take another deep breath and gaze around the room, what I can see of it.

The room was once my father's library, a room I wasn't allowed to enter as a child. Now it is mine. I know where his desk and cabinets are but anyone else wouldn't know. I put my hand in my robe pocket and finger the edge of the knife. Not hard enough to draw blood as I know that would kill me even in my current state. It was a great find. I bring it out and examine the handle's carving. It's goblin made. I raise my arm and throw it. It strikes something and I hear a squeal, most likely a book and not a mouse. The light from the top edge of the near-opaque windows is getting scarce. I open my purse and take out a torch and light the path. It flickers but works for now. All around me are my finds. Some of the haphazard piles reach to the beams of the ceiling. I come to the end of the room where the mounds of bugbear furs are. I unceremoniously flop down and curl up, pulling a few of the heavy hides over me. They smell of musk. I breathe long slow breaths. Calm spreads over me. When I close my eyes, I can feel the thickness of the air and the warmth the magic brings. It feels alive. For a few minutes I feel alive.

I'm not sure how long I've been asleep, but the room is dark and my torch won't light. My heart is pounding. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. At first I wonder if I awoke from a nightmare, but then I hear the sound, footsteps coming up the stairs and shuffling down the hallway. A man is whistling. He is wearing boots and doesn't seem worried that anyone is in the house. I swear under my breath, furious that I'm so vulnerable. He stops in front of the carved door. I hear a crackle and then his mumblings. Even in this room, I gather a hint of the scent of pipe smoke. In here nothing terrifies me more than fire. I hear him move again; heavy unequal steps going towards the parlour. I wish I still had the knife.


Draco leaned against the elevator wall, his eyes were half shut. He was over an hour late, but then again, who would notice. He could barely remember last night's bender at the Golden Hind. He did remember, however, downing shots as quick as Thomas could pour them— until at some point Thomas stopped pouring. Also, he recalled that Benji wasn't at the bar, for which he was thankful. But he never discovered at the bottom of the bottle of Ogden's why the thought of going back to the Department of Mysteries was so painful. It wasn't that he would miss Potter or that being out in public made a difference. No, he was sure that wasn't it. It was the final humiliation of having his past brought forward once again. Draco reminded himself that he had been happy in his laboratory on level nine where no one thought to bother him or remind him of his youth.

"Level Two," the voice said and the gated door of the elevator opened. He stumbled out. Potter deserved to be working on the ... case. He was good with people and really only he could work with Iris Bustament and the other Muggle police. Draco knew there were probably tell-tale signs that he was different...not normal. Well, at least if he was going back to his previous research, he'd do it with his head held high and probably a bit of a raise. It's not like Potter would miss him. Life goes on. A small voice in his brain niggled him that maybe if he could recreate a magical HOLMES he would be called back. He quickly squashed the thought.

Draco walked into the cold case office he and Harry had shared over the previous two months, expecting to see his and Potter's belongings either gone or in boxes. What he didn't expect was Ron Weasley sitting in Harry's chair, feet resting on the desk and drinking coffee from Harry's mug. A box of opened chocolates lay a bit too close to Weasley's boots. One chocolate was missing.

"What the hell are you doing here, Weasley?" Draco said as he noticed nothing in the room had been changed. He made his way over to the kitchenette, hoping his stash of tea was still in place. The ways he felt and probably looked, he didn't want see others in the cafeteria. Thankfully, everything in the drawer was still in place—except the teapot. He glanced at one of the smaller cauldrons on his lab table in the adjoining room, wondering if Weasley would think it was too gauche to make tea in it. He gave a small snort realising that he really didn't give a shit what Ron thought.

"I work here, Malfoy, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I noticed all right, Weasley, and up until now my luck held out that we didn't have to converse. What I meant is what are you doing in my office?"

Ron laughed at him as he brought his feet back to the ground. He turned the well-worn wooden chair towards Draco. "Well, it looks like your luck took a trip with mine across the pond because of this morning, you and I are partners."

Draco dropped the box of tea. Ron snickered, adding insult to his dilemma. "No way. I'm going back to the Department of Mysteries. There is not a chance in hell I'm working with you. I'll talk to Felicity."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Malfoy, I couldn't agree with you more but Dawlish gave the order and Unspeakable Burrell agreed. They seemed to like the idea that our two departments continue working together. Maybe you and Harry shouldn't have done such a good job."

Draco walked over to Ron and stared down at him. "You do realise that Dawlish did this to get back at Harry?"

Ron stared up at him without a hint of being intimidated in Draco towering over him. He took a long sip of coffee from the Gryffindor mug. "Of course I realise that and that is why you and I are going to put aside our differences this time. We're not going to give the arse the satisfaction of believing he succeeded."

The corners of Draco's mouth turned up. "But we'll be faking it, right?"

"Absolutely, Malfoy. You and I will be the epitome of cordiality and professionalism to anyone and everyone whom we come in contact with. Only here in this little hell of an office, you can go back to being your usual arsehole self."

Draco nodded. "Okay, then. I'll assume you won't mind me having a chocolate. I missed breakfast."

Ron handed the box to Draco. "Help yourself. I learned a long time ago not to eat chocolates that Harry received from a woman. He ate this one before he took off this morning."

"A present? You mean Potter just goes around eating food given to him from women he doesn't know?" Draco asked, setting down the box.

"No, you jerk. He knows her. It was Iris Bustamant. Harry gave her an owl the other day so she could reach him easier when he's here. She sent him this as a thank you gift."

Draco eyed Ron in disbelief. "You think she would try and poison him? That's absurd."

"Not poison, but maybe she put a love potion in there?"

Draco snorted. "Weasley, she's neither a witch nor the type given her profession and by the way, do you think they fancy each other?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know, but they seem to be pretty chummy."

"You noticed that, too?" An unwelcome image of Harry and Iris snogging filtered into Draco's brain. He started feeling his stomach churn again. He needed to change the subject quickly. "So what dust case are we supposed solve this time?"

"Haven't a clue." Ron returned to sipping his hot coffee. Draco was about to suggest they go down to the Fifth Room and select one on their own, when Parvati appeared at the door.


"Ah there you are, Malfoy. Head Auror Dawlish has been waiting for you," Parvati said as she entered the office. A floating cardboard box followed her, which appeared to have been chewed by something larger than a mouse. She directed the package to Draco's desk with her wand. The desktop appeared to bow under the weight when it landed. She swiped the lid with her hand and then sneezed as a small dust cloud materialized. "Good luck," she said with a tone suggesting no such thing. "Ron, Robards said he'd stop by later today to see how you're surviving with him," she added as she left the room as quick as she came in.

Draco lifted his wand to make the door slam shut, but he thought better of it given he and Ron's agreement to behave, and it closed in silence.

"Looks like you lost another friend." Ron stood up and strode over to Draco's desk.

Draco winced as Ron lifted the lid. They'd probably be given some famous case from the 1600s and would surely fail. He expected a vibrant red or deep black file, but instead there were stacks and stacks of documents, a few in shades of gold, but the majority were almost white.

"Thefts?" Ron said with great disappointment. "We're supposed to solve all of these theft cases? Fucking bastard."

Draco picked up a pile and rummaged through it. Despite the box looking ancient, most files were from the last decade and some even so current that they shouldn't have been filed as cold cases at all. Whoever filed them knew that they wouldn't be dealt with anymore once they had landed in the Fifth Room. Without further hesitation he collected the darkest golden files and perused them. "At least some of these are worth retrieving," he said, groping for some reason to make him feel better. He had thought Dawlish couldn't get any lower by pairing him up with Weasley but this...this was despicable.

A few hours later, and several cups of tea consumed, they had the files stacked in separate piles. At first they had tried doing it just by colour but soon recognised their folly and began doing it by date and then location. They expanded the table as the piles increased. Draco's thoughts drifted to how HOLMES could probably solve these theft cases by the end of the day. They, instead, would be tied up for weeks tracking this shit down. Both mumbled under their breath at the humiliating task. Draco became impressed that Ron's swearing lexicon was so extensive. He was also pleased that like Harry, Ron didn't forget his meals. Ron had sent an owl out for office delivery from the cafeteria. The owl returned with a picnic basket dangling from its talons. It was filled to the brim with sandwiches, fruit, and butterbeers. Draco also noticed a plate of biscuits. He was apprehensive at first that the meal would turn his stomach again, but the food brought him out of his alcohol induced sickness.

"There's a pattern," Ron mumbled as he ate his second cold lamb sandwich while circling the table and rearranging the piles. They reminded Draco of a chessboard, but with the pieces arranged haphazardly.

"Not bloody likely. Most of this is probably shopkeepers misplacing items on a busy day. Maybe there are a few burgles, but no pattern. I swear you Aurors see conspiracies and danger in everything. And another thing..."

"Shut it, Malfoy." Ron set down his sandwich down on a cloth napkin and retrieved his wand from his robe pocket. With a few swishes the piles were rearranged.

Draco squinted at the new arrangement.

Ron gave a quick grin.

"If we remove these, you should see the pattern emerge," Ron said while selecting a few light coloured files that made up their own stacks, while leaving a few of the darker-shaded ones. "I think those darker-golden files might be related, so I'm going to leave them for now," he added. And then with a final flick pieces of parchment interspersed in the larger stacks, flew into his hand. He glanced through them and set a few on the light-coloured file stacks he had just made and then the rest made up their own, a larger pile.

Draco continued to squint and then his eyes widened. "That's fucking brilliant," he whispered and picked up the larger stack of the remaining files and rifled through it. "It looks like someone comes into Diagon Alley for a day and goes on a shopping-lifting spree, but what I don't get is why most of what he's stolen isn't worth very much. Why would they want it?" He reached for the other newer small stacks, which were all close to beige, but Ron with a flick of his wand moved them away from Draco's reach; they floated over to Harry's desk. Draco was about to voice his annoyance at Ron's actions but Ron spoke up first.

"Sorry, but I didn't' want you getting distracted by them. Feel free to look at them later," Ron said. "As for the value of most of the stolen items, I don't know, but you add in the items missing from people's home, and maybe, just maybe we have a magical item collector."

"Damn," he said as he mentally went through the files he'd opened. "I knew that but until you said it, I hadn't put it together, all of these items are magical. It could be more than one person, though, maybe a gang of thieves."

Ron snickered. "You mean like from Oliver Twist?"

"Who the hell is Oliver Twist?"

"Never mind, just a book of Hermione's I read."


"Yes, and don't start."

Draco sighed. "I wasn't going to; I am more surprised that you read at all. So what about the other items, the high-priced ones on random days"

"Let's look at what they are."

Draco rounded the table eyeing the remaining single files. He counted nine of them. "An Axminster flying carpet, a Pensieve, enchanted jewellery, goblin armour, I'd say someone has good taste. I have to admit, though, that I'm surprised that these thefts didn't make the Prophet."

"Maybe they did but they probably didn't print what was taken. Most folks don't want other people to know what treasures they possess. So either these thefts are related and our thief has dual purposes or we have two thieves."

"Hmm," Draco said. He still didn't buy all of it. "But wouldn't an Auror be suspicious if a lot of items were all reported missing on the same day from these establishments or from the people who were shopping?"

Ron snorted. "Malfoy, the golden files, unless it's something like these nine, are put to the bottom of the priority list. We're still short-handed at the MLE. I'm sure if it repeated day-after-day, they would have done something about it."

"And the other items you removed aren't part of it?" Draco asked more for conformation than for not knowing.

"I don't think so," Ron answered. "I'm sure there are probably some missing magical items that aren't related in the stacks but at this point I'm not ready to remove any more."

Draco wanted to ask how Ron knew how the files on Harry's desk didn't belong, but for now he'd let it go. "So where do we go from here?" he asked instead.

"Um, Harry said you have the capability to retrieve memories. Some kind of spell?" Ron asked with his mouth full of sandwich again. Draco wondered how Harry and Hermione could bear to be around him when he was eating.

"That spell? It's just a projection of Legilimency. So it only works when there is a major incident, something life changing, like being attacked by Dementors or a terrorist incident. It doesn't work for a shopping trip to Diagon Alley." Draco watched Ron pick up and move the stacks of files into different patterns. He wondered what else Harry had told him about their investigations and if he knew about his attempt to create a HOLMES database.

"Well then, I guess we do some basic detective work and start interviewing people."

"We should start with this pile then dealing with the trinket carts."

Ron nodded and then took the stack of files from Draco and looked through them with purpose. "Actually we should begin with the usual suspects like Mundungus and then pay some visits to the street vendors as you suggested, since they seem to have been hit the hardest. And then that I'd like to check-out the junk shops and Borgin and Burkes to see if there is any fencing is going on with the more expensive items."

Draco winced at the thought of stepping foot into Burgin and Burkes; he hadn't done so since before the war when he bought the opal necklace and he hoped he never would have to again.

"You got a problem with that plan? You look like you're about to sick," Ron asked, looking a bit too smug for Draco's liking.

"No," Draco responded quickly. "I—I'm just still recovering from last night. I'll be fine. Let's just go."


"You're not pinning this on me! Haven't been in that business for years," Mundungus Fletcher spurted out along with the foam from the pint Draco had paid for. They were in the corner trying to be inconspicuous but everyone in the Leaky Cauldron, while pretending to mind their own, were keeping an ear open. It wasn't everyday that an Auror and an Unspeakable came into the establishment together on official business. Draco sipped on his cup of tea, one of the strongest brewed he'd had outside of his own home. Susan had obviously taken pity on him. Not knowing how long the interview would last, he sipped slowly. Ron didn't seem to care and immediately downed half a butterbeer. He was doing serious damage to a plate of chips before they'd even got settled in.

"Dung, calm the shit down. I'm just asking if you've seen any of this stuff." Ron slipped him a piece of parchment with the list of the most expensive items along with the location and dates.

Mundungus took a look at the paper with some diligence. Draco glanced around. Maybe Neville was stopping in for lunch to visit his wife. The potions in the bodies he and Harry had investigated were still on his mind. Maybe Neville could detect a nefarious ingredient they missed. And then there were the strange puncture marks. Draco stopped his mind from wondering about problems for a case that wasn't his anymore.

"I don't know. Maybe the fancy hides, but that was a few years ago. They were at one of the stalls at Beltane. People didn't know what they had but I didn't take them. Some wizard and witch in line before me bought them all for a song. I guess the seller must have regretted the transaction."

Draco thought more likely the seller had been put under a Confundus charm.

"Did you recognise the wizard or witch who bought them?"

"No, they had some funny holiday masks on."

"Anything else? Recognise any of the other stolen items?" Ron asked.

"Nah, nothing worth my time. I mean that is if I was still interested. You going to finish those chips?"

Ron shook his head and slid them over to Mundungus, who promptly picked up the plate and walked over to the bar and sat on a stool.

"Well that went well. Some couple purchased hides at Beltane. Shall we take a good guess and say the proprietor realised he got taken and reported them missing. What's his name?" Draco took a longer sip of tea knowing the interview was over and he could hit the loo before leaving for the vendor stalls and junk shop. He was intentionally not trying to think of going into Knocturne Alley.

Ron reached into his briefcase and withdrew the original file. "There's no name listed," Ron said as he passed the it to Draco. "I'm guessing he reported anonymously. He just wanted the lucky buyers caught."

"Are any of the animal hides Class A?"

Ron grabbed the report and scanned the list of hides. "The Jarvey and Pogrebin are tradable, and the Graphorn is Class B, but, I'd have to check with Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures about the bugbears?"

Draco couldn't help but laugh. "You know their fakes and just common bear hides. Not like they exist or anything."

Ron set down the report. A wide-smile crossed his face. "Family rumour has it that when Charlie, my brother, comes across a boggart that is what persona it takes on."

A small warm feeling coursed through Draco. He knew what it was. It was the first feeling of when you start bonding with someone. This wasn't going to happen. Weasley was a duffer, but, then again, he had seen a pattern among the files, which Draco hadn't. However, there might not actually be a pattern; this could all be just a wild goose chase. Draco thought of HOLMES once again. He set down his empty cup of tea and since Neville hadn't shown up he made motions of preparing to leave. A cool breeze blew in as the back door opened. Draco instinctively turned his head to see who was coming in from that entrance. His stomach turned as Potter was leading Iris Bustamant through the door. He quickly bannished the sense of being disgusted that Potter was letting in a Muggle into the Leaky Cauldron. He then noticed Iris was laughing and Draco couldn't help but see that it became her. She looked softer than he'd seen her on the days before. Harry's eyes were directed on her as if fully entranced by her reaction to learning that the magical world was just a door away. Draco lowered his eyes. He did not want to see more.

"Harry," Ron yelled as he stood up and waved them over. His butterbeer wobbled. Draco grabbed it before it toppled over.

"Ron? Draco? What are you two doing here?" Harry asked. Without looking up, Draco could tell that Harry had not heard about their new assignment.

"You won't believe it, mate, but the bastard teamed up Malfoy and me. We're supposed to solve golden files from over the years. Most of the reports are barely yellow."

Harry started laughing. Draco wanted to punch him, just like in the olden days. "Shut it, Potter," he said as he looked up at Harry and Iris, holding there gaze as they stared at him. Iris' smile had turned to a questioning grin. Draco knew she had no idea about their past. He turned his focus straight onto Harry. "We're only going through this charade because we know Dawlish couldn't get to you directly. Weasley and I are going to solve these piddly-arse cases, which the Ministry couldn't give two shits about, but, we're going to be good little coppers as the Muggles call them and do our job, which in turn will make us all look good, or at least you two."

"Fuck, I'm sorry, Draco," Harry said, sounding appropriately chagrined. "I'm sorry, Ron. I know this is going to be tough— tough for both of you."

"Damn straight, Potter. It was bad enough that they put us together, but now..." Draco said without finishing. Harry's face had dropped.

"Wait, you two don't get along?" Iris asked, looking back and forth between Harry and Draco and then began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked.

Iris shook her head. "I made a bet with dad that you two were breaking the rules."

"Breaking the rules?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, you know how partners aren't supposed to date."

"Date?" Harry said. "You thought Draco and I were a couple?"

"Sure, it seemed obvious to me. Don't you think so, Ron? It is Ron, right?"

Ron thinned his lips as if in an attempt to hold back words he knew shouldn't be spoken.

"No, Iris, Harry and I are not a couple," Draco said. "But I admit, I find it humorous as I thought you two might fancy one another."

Iris laughed again. "Really? Me fancy Harry? No, not my type. I don't hook up with anyone close to my field-of-work."

Harry sighed. "Now that we've established that neither of you want to date me, can we move onto business?"

"I didn't say you weren't my type," Draco blurted out. "I—I mean not that you are, but, oh hell, you're right, Potter, time to get back to our cases. Your's all important, mine all trivial." Draco knew he was probably turning red, or maybe it was a whiter shade of his usual pale. Draco glanced over to Ron, who slid back down in his seat. He didn't look well either.

"Well actually, Draco, I'm glad we ran into you. Have you made any progress on your network? I think it would come in handy seeing what the connections are between these Muggle bodies and the Squibs. We don't seem to be getting very far."

Draco picked up his tea cup and drunk the last of the dregs. He should have worked on HOLMES last night instead of wallowing in self pity. Up until this moment, though, he hadn't been sure he would continue. "It's coming along; I'll let you know when it's ready to be tested but I'm sure you'll solve the case without it."

"Okay, we were just going to have a bite. My turn to treat Iris and also to see if Neville will be dropping by."

It was nice to know that he and Harry were still on the same wave length even if they weren't on other matters. "Well enjoy. Weasley and I need to go. Interviews and such are waiting." Draco stood up and thankfully Ron followed suit. Draco didn't think he could sit through a meal with Potter after what had stumbled out of his mouth. If Bustamant hadn't been there, he might have seriously considered doing an Obliviate on both Aurors.


The stiff autumn breeze felt good against his face. Golden and red leaves collected on the edges of the worn cobblestone path winding through Diagon Alley. It was busy during lunchtime but people cleared the way when they spotted an Auror and Unspeakable in their midst. Many greeted them or at least greeted Ron.

They made their way past Quality Quidditch Supplies. Draco winced at the large poster of Puddlemere United displayed in the window. Benjy winked at him. Draco looked away and towards Gringotts, which towered above the other shops. They wouldn't stop there or at Weasley Wizard Whizzes, which disappointed Draco a little. He loved that place but felt uncomfortable going in there on his own. He was sure it would have been okay with Ron escorting him. As they walked past Gringotts he took a quick glance to the left, where the entrance to Knockturn Alley lay. Even now, eight years since the defeat of Voldemort, Draco hadn't taken one step down that path. An old hag smoking a pipe was perched on a stool near the entrance. They continued on to the end of Diagon Alley where the junk shop and most of the carts with cheap wares congregated. Young children were gathered around them, entranced by the magical trinkets.

Ron approached the cart with the most kids holding out their knuts in trade for the newest batch of Chocolate Frogs, which apparently had just arrived. Draco couldn't help but smile, seeing the kids tear into the packages hoping to get their favourite wizard or maybe get one of the rarer cards, which often showed one of the more questionable wizards. He reached into his own pocket fingering the bit of change he had in there. It had been a long time since he purchased a Chocolate Frog. The cart was flimsy at best. Four uneven wooden spoke wheels held up a flat made of plywood. Wooden poles painted gold and green held up a blue tarp with a giant Chocolate Frog sitting on top. Chocolate Frog cards covered in a protective seal were plastered to the posts. On a makeshift counter made up of random sized boxes, piles of unopened cards were quickly being diminished.

A small witch pulled on Draco's robes. She pointed to Ron and then to a card of Auror Ron Weasley pasted on the cart near her. She seemed in awe. Draco elbowed Ron relaying the situation.

Ron reached in his own pocket and pulled out a few of his own Chocolate Frog cards, bent down, and gave it to her. "Don't tell anyone else," Ron whispered in her ear. "This is just for you."

The little black-haired witch in dishevelled clothes thanked him and immediately opened the cards. The frogs took big leaps but Draco caught them just before they escaped. The girl was oblivious that sh'd almost lost her treat. She bounced up and down and others gathered around her as she cycled through the three personally signed cards of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"We give them to kids who we meet on our cases," Ron said to Draco.

Draco nodded. There was that warmth again. Ron wasn't walking around demanding adoration; he just received it because of what he had done in the past and what he currently stood for. He had earned it and not bought it. The realisation struck deep. Draco would never be perceived that way.

The owner of the cart, a young witch with turquoise robes and pink hair looked at Ron and his Auror robes with suspicion. She reached into a large purse and pulled out a license. Draco glanced at it. The witch's name was Annie Smith. "I haven't done nothing wrong," she said. "It's all legal. I got the cards this morning from the Old Dock in Liverpool. I stood all night in line waiting, I did."

Ron shook his head. "No worries. We're not here over any trades issue. We're here to ask you about a report you filled a few years ago about some missing Chocolate Frog cards." He reached into satchel and pulled out a stack of files. He searched through them and pulled out one and handed it to her.

"Blimey, Auror Weasley. Why are you coming around now? I went to the Ministry three years ago. Some witch took my cards, she did, and back then none of you seemed interested. Never saw the witch again."

"A witch?" Draco said. "Are you sure it was a witch?"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure. She talked to me sweet about how she wanted a special card for her son and that she'd pay good money for it. Wanted a Headmaster Severus Snape, she did. She showed me a sack of Galleons. I so happened to have the card, it was my own. Kept it in my purse along with a few others. I sold it to her. Biggest sale I've ever made. Might have overcharged a bit, but you don't find too many buyers like that around here. Usually, they buy through the adverts in the papers. Anyway, I was all pleased until I noticed a whole unopened box of Chocolate Frogs was missing."

"Do you remember what the witch looked like?" Ron asked. "Besides the short brown hair you mentioned in the report?"

Annie Smith squinted as she crooked the corner of her mouth. "No, not really. Well wait. I do remember she was dressed quite well. You know down here at the end of the alley we don't get too many of the rich ones.



Date: 2013-10-20 01:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] khalulu.livejournal.com
Very mysterious opening bit in the old house with the pile of bugbear hides.

Date: 2013-10-25 11:12 am (UTC)
birdsofshore: (Default)
From: [personal profile] birdsofshore
Love the art in this piece - really nice perspective and Parvati's shoes especially fab. The colours are super and Draco's expression is a treat.

Date: 2013-11-10 10:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] omi-ohmy.livejournal.com
Ooh yes, Parvati's shoes are great! I'm really loving Draco in black too - perfect.

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