I have no idea what to write in this thing, but I promised Hermione I'd give it a shot, writing down my thoughts, at least. She says journaling is good for the soul, or for exorcising demons, or to give me something to do other than stare at the ceiling and try to sleep, hoping the nightmares will recede for just one night. Huh, rereading that it sounds pretty depressing. Or maybe just melodramatic. She'd like that word. I'll have to let her know that I used it. I think I'll go make some tea and try to shake this hangover.
My second day of journaling. It takes 21 days to establish a habit, right? I'll see if I can make it to the 21st. I slept like shite last night, as usual. Woke up three times with nightmares. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in weeks. Thank Merlin for Alertness Elixir or I would have been fired by now. At least I don't work today.
I think I should paint the ceiling in my room. Sometimes I think I can't sleep because that black spot up there looks like a spider about to drop down onto my head. It isn't a spider, of course, because I've been studying it for two years and it hasn't moved.
I should knock down another wall. Grimmauld Place is still pretty grim, but not as bad as it used to be. The smartest thing I ever did (according to Ron) was to take down the wall with Walburga Black's portrait attached. It made a nice bonfire in the garden. Why am I thinking about remodelling? This has been a long weekend and I think I'm ready to go back to work.
Usually I like my job, but sometimes it gets too weird even for me. There were a bunch of attacks on Muggles during the hols and they decided they needed a consultant from the Department of Mysteries to help out. Of course the consultant is Draco Malfoy, because my luck is just that good. And by good I mean fucked up. We nearly got into a shouting match the minute he opened his sarcastic, irritating mouth.
Day Two of Malfoy. Kingsley ordered me to work with him, which I can only assume is punishment for sneaking into Kingsley's office and turning all of his note clips into puffskeins on his birthday. Some people just can't take a joke.
I didn't have to deal with Malfoy today, which is just as well. Reading through the case files is bad enough. I swear a hippogriff has better handwriting than Auror Webb.
When Malfoy isn't being a snide arse (which is 99% of the time) he actually seems to know what he's doing, at least as far as his job goes. I'll never admit that anywhere but here, however. He has some theories about the group behind the attacks (because "of course it's a group, Potter, although I wouldn't expect you to have figured that out") and his idea backs up some clues left at the scene. He doesn't think it's a nouveau Death Eater group, as those were popular after the war, but not so much recently. I'm not so sure.
Today was hard. A fire took out an entire house in Hogsmeade. It wasn't Fiendfyre, thank Merlin, but it still burned hot and quick enough to leave an eight-year-old girl with horrible burns. She was lucky to have got out at all. St Mungo's is good, but I'm not sure they can do much for that sort of thing. I had a row about the Statute for Underaged Magic and why we can't teach kids to control their magic before they are old enough for Hogwarts, but everyone looked at me like I was mad. Sometimes wizarding tradition seems at odds with common sense.
I caught up on reading case files this morning and had dinner with Ron and Hermione. At least she agrees with me about training wizards and witches at a younger age with some sort of primary school. Ron says it's up to the parents to give kids guidance, which set Hermione off until they were shouting at one another. Some things never change.
Day off! I took a long nap and then sent Kreacher out to restock the pantry so we don't starve to death. Sometimes I forget that he needs every detail spelled out or he will just lurk around the house all day doing nothing.
Another Muggle was attacked last night. I suppose this means another confrontation (I mean consultation) with Malfoy is upcoming. Luckily he's out until Wednesday. Maybe I can find somewhere else to be then.
Day thirteen. At least I've made it more than halfway to the 21 days. Hermione asked if I'm using this journal and I was happy to be able to say yes, but of course she had to ask if I'm documenting my dreams and thinking about what I want from life. I guess I haven't written many deep thoughts. Maybe this counts as a deep thought?
Today my deepest thought is about how I can hex Malfoy onto another planet without being fired. The bastard had the gall to complain to Kingsley about how uncooperative I'm being. Uncooperative! Only because I refused to show him the case files from the Jackson incident. How was I supposed to know he has carte blanche to see everything just because he told me so? He could have just waited for me to check with Kingsley instead of flouncing out and complaining. Stupid git.
This was the worst day so far. Thank Merlin tomorrow is my day off or I might end up in Azkaban. I had to give Malfoy a tour of the sites of the Muggle attacks (and listen to his obnoxious comments the entire time). He's lucky to be alive. If he says "Mudblood" one more time I might actually punch him, although I notice he's careful not to do it within the hearing of anyone else. He pretends to be professional until the moment we're alone, and then the slimy git from school is back on display. I hate him!
Felt restless today. I did some cleaning and then tried some temporary colour charms on my bedroom ceiling. The blue seems nicest, so maybe I'll order some paint tomorrow. Spending so much time on my bed caused me to remember that I haven't been laid since Godric knows when. I'm thinking about going to a Muggle club tomorrow. Too bad I can't be seen at any of the gay wizarding clubs. Hermione and all the Weasleys have been supportive and insist it won't be a big deal to let the world know, but I'm just not ready to deal with the press and the renewed attention. I've been out of the news for a while now and would like to keep it that way. Besides, I'm busy with work and don't need the complication of a relationship in my life. I think Hermione would be pleased with the length and deep thoughts contained in this entry. Maybe I can do this journaling thing. Bah!
The Muggle club was a mistake. The music was too loud, the men were too obvious about wanting sex with no strings attached, and the drinks were terrible. After being groped on the dance floor and having a tongue shoved halfway down my throat with a bonus crotch grab, I came home. I guess cheap and sleazy sex isn't what I want. What do I want? I have no idea. The quiet blond at the bar was nice looking, though. Too bad he was obviously in love with the bloke he was with. Maybe that's what I want. Someone to love me like that. Fuck it, I'm going to sleep.
What the hell is Malfoy doing working on a Sunday? I expected him to be in his house slippers reading the Daily Prophet while eating fancy crumpets or something, not looming over my desk demanding updates on the case. I shoved everything into a box and Levitated in into his chest, nearly knocking him arse over teakettle. The look on his face was good for a laugh, at least.
Fucking Malfoy! I've been pissing what feels like acid all morning. My dick is on fire and it has to be a bloody hex he put on me to get even for the box incident yesterday. Luckily I haven't seen him or I'd give him a case of anal itching that would make him beg for mercy. Note to self: Talk to George and get the specifics of that spell. It's on!
No chance to hex Malfoy today. A Muggle died in the early hours of the morning, attacked by a group of robed figures. They weren't even trying to be subtle, writing DIE MUDBLOODS on a wall in the alley and leaving three witnesses behind. They all had to be Obliviated and the scene altered to look like a Muggle robbery. It was a fucking mess that had to be fixed before dawn. At least Malfoy looked just as exhausted and unhappy.
Another fruitless consultation with Malfoy. He doesn't look half as tired as I feel. Unspeakables don't have uniforms, so he always wears regular clothes, except that his clothes are anything but regular. I suppose it's all high fashion and expensive, but is it really necessary for him to flaunt his superior wardrobe? What a git. He does look nice, though. No new leads on the case.
I made it to Day 21 yesterday! It's officially a habit, so I don't have to write every day anymore! Not much happened today anyway. Didn't see Malfoy, thank Merlin.
Worked all day interviewing potential suspects with Malfoy. He's good at it, which shouldn't surprise me, although it did. After a couple of hours, we actually have sort of a system. I knock on the door, act like Harry Potter, Auror-in-Charge, and Malfoy apologises and acts friendly or condescending or even nervous depending on the person answering. I admit it threw me for a loop the first few times. He's a rather good actor. They'll open the door for me, but only he can seem to get them talking.
Days off are going to be rare for a while, so I'm savouring this one. Going to play charades at the Burrow and watch George try to slip experimental sweets into Ron's drink.
More suspect interviews with Malfoy. I know he has theories regarding those we've already spoken to. I have my own, which, in the interest of inter-departmental cooperation I have shared with Malfoy, but of course he hasn't told me a bloody thing in return. I'm fairly certain he plans to solve the case himself and make me out to be a fool while he's at it. We have access to the same information, so I'll just have to get there first.
I tore the sleeve on my Auror robe again. I've told Kingsley a hundred times that billowing sleeves are stupid and dangerous. They snag on everything. Malfoy told me to bind them down with cords and then demonstrated by using my own tie. It actually works pretty well (and even looks good). I almost said thank you and I'm thinking I should have because he might have dropped dead from a heart attack.
Got a royal reaming today from the head of DMLE for not solving the case after an entire month. I'd like to see him step away from the food trolley long enough to go out into the field and catch the culprits. Ron calls him Fore-Head thanks to his enormous forehead and receding hairline. Malfoy heard him mutter the nickname during the meeting and said, "I believe that's a five-head, Weasley" and Ron's eyes popped out just before he got it and nearly choked to death on a laughing fit. Got sent from the room to down a glass of water and I barely kept a straight face. Didn't dare look at Malfoy.
First break in the case today! One of our interview suspects cracked after repeated questioning by Malfoy and admitted that he might know someone with a vendetta against Muggles. I have to hand it to Malfoy, who seems to know the financial and social standings of seemingly every wizard in Britain. How he knew about Teague's debts, I'll never know, since departmental information dug up nothing out of the ordinary on the man. We follow up on the lead tomorrow. Or today, since it's nearly 2 am. I'll be lucky to get four hours sleep tonight. I'm knackered.
Malfoy's robes were blue today with black trim on the sleeves that almost seemed to move. It was a bit mesmerising, I don't know. I'm really tired. Why am I thinking about Malfoy's fucking sleeves? His hair looks really soft.
UGH, what is wrong with me? I crossed out yesterday's entry because what the fuck? I must have been more tired than I thought after two bloody seventeen-hour days in a row. Who cares about Malfoy's hair? I CERTAINLY DON'T.
I suppose I should mention the case, since I spent the past two days rambling about Malfoy. I won't be doing that again. Teague's tip led us to the home of a repeat offender named Skein. Malfoy says he has familial ties to the Lestranges, which doesn't necessarily mean anything, but might point towards a passing familiarity with anti-Muggle sentiment. Skein's house in Tweed was empty, but there was definite evidence of recent occupation, albeit disgusting, rubbish and rat-infested occupation. I spent 48 hours staking out the place with Winston and Malfoy, until Kingsley ordered me to go home and get some bloody sleep. Which I plan to do right now. I wonder if Malfoy is.
Talked about the case during a surprisingly civil lunch with Malfoy. He even laughed at a couple of my jokes, which was a shock. His non-sarcastic laugh is really nice, sort of bubbling up out of the centre of his chest, as though it's been locked away down there and only allowed to escape on special occasions. Oh bloody hell, did I just wax poetic about Malfoy's laugh? UGH, I must be coming down with something. Note to self: Order some Pepper-Up potion.
Luna is having a Valentine's Day party on Saturday. I'm rather terrified to go and I might have accidentally invited Malfoy, NOT AS A DATE, I was just asking if he was interested in going, and the prat proceeded to joke about it every bloody time I saw him. He threatened to take an ad out in the Prophet telling everyone that he was my date for the event. Fucking bloody prat, and it's not helping that Ron thinks it's hilarious. What happened to standing up for your best friend? What the hell am I going to wear?
Too ruddy tired and confused to go into it. I'll update tomorrow.
What to say about Luna's party? It was just as mad as expected, but thankfully she hosted it at an abandoned wizarding theatre. It was decorated in aqua rather than the expected pink, as apparently Luna is not fond of pink. With that said, everything was aqua, including the punch and the food. I couldn't bring myself to eat aqua shrimp canapés, but Malfoy insisted they were delicious. The disgusting prat probably eats raw fish, also. Speaking of the prat, I have absolutely no desire to look at the Prophet for the next three weeks, as the entire wizarding world now suspects that I am absolutely gay, thanks to Malfoy's antics. The bastard insisted on hanging on my arm all night long, telling everyone we were in love despite my protests otherwise. I admit it was hard to protest too loudly when he was being so charming, and that mischievous twinkle in his eyes was a surprise. If I hadn't known he'd been taking the piss all evening I might have been taken in. Merlin, I suppose I was taken in, to be perfectly honest. He's bloody gorgeous and it was something of an ego boost to have him pretending to be my date. Once or twice I may have imagined myself kissing him, but I can't go down that road. It can only lead to pain, so I have to smash such ridiculous thoughts before they start. It's nice that we're getting on, at any rate.
No sign of Malfoy today, but staking out Skein's place finally paid off. He showed up with three cronies and I put an Anti-Disapparition Charm around the place while Kenny and Babs went in and took them down. They are all in lockup now and hopefully we'll be able to close this case for good.
I went down to the Department of Mysteries today to thank Malfoy for his help cracking the case. He was acting weird, barely making eye contact and almost behaving like we were enemies again. It was annoying, but he's probably regretting the fallout of pretending to be my date at Luna's party. I've been dealing with enough ribbing at work, not to mention the strange looks and comments I get when I go out in public, so I suppose it must be worse for him. Still, I have to admit his coldness stings. I got out of there before I could say something I would regret.
Back to business as usual. I haven't seen Malfoy in- well forget about him. I got a new case today that's hush-hush. A Ministry official whose name I won't put in writing received a blackmail letter with a Pensieve memory of him having sex with a very young woman. He insists it wasn't him and was having a meltdown at the thought of his wife leaving him and taking his kids. Kingsley believes him and suspects Polyjuice is involved. I suppose I'll start with the usual potion suppliers and go from there, although if someone is going after the big fish they're most likely smart enough to brew their own.
Malfoy came into my office this morning and apologised for being an arse. He even brought me a treacle pastry and a cup of tea. I suspect he's up to something, but he left before I could call him out. Okay, weird, Malfoy's owl just showed up with a note asking me to lunch on Friday. I can't believe I'm waffling on this. I should say no and let things get back to how they were, but I actually miss spending time with him. I wish we'd never gone to that stupid party.
Lunch was interesting. Okay, lunch was extremely awkward. We met at some swank pub that Malfoy obviously hangs out in, as they were all fawning over him and practically ignoring me, which was fine, it was good for a change, except that it was super-obvious he'd paid them to, or ordered them to or whatever. Anyway, why am I hung up on that? I'm glad the staff paid me no mind. We were seated in the centre of the damn room and everyone else certainly noticed us, that much was obvious. I don't know if Malfoy thinks it will cause less gossip or more, putting us on display like that, except that it was anything but a romantic meal. He was stiff and business-like the entire time, asking about my latest case and made vague small talk about some unusual item he's been studying that he's not allowed to talk about. Even as I write this I'm not sure what he wanted.
Malfoy marched into my office this morning and perched on my desk the way he used to, and then leant down and said, "I apologise. There, I said it." I had no idea what he was apologising for, and admit to gaping at him for a bit. Then he said he was sorry about his behaviour at Luna's party and that he'd meant to tell me on Friday, but he couldn't seem to stop talking about inanities because it's "bloody hard for a Malfoy to admit when he's wrong" and he got up and started pacing while talking about stuff like "societal expectations" and "emotional reserve" and I admit I didn't hear much of it at all because I was so glad to see him acting like a normal person again instead of some cold stranger that I could hardly concentrate. He was also wearing those amazing silver-blue robes that make his eyes look- never mind that. Anyway at the end of his tirade, he gave me an odd smile and asked, "So?" Of course I said, "You're fucking weird, Malfoy, and I'm used to you behaving like an absolute arse, remember? Now sit down and have a look at this note. I could use your help." Merlin, the smile he gave me. I probably should have booted him out, but it's bloody nice to have him back.
I am so utterly, utterly fucked.
I'm writing this in a dingy room at a random inn in Dover. The heat only sporadically works and it's windy as hell here. I'm casting constant Heating Charms to keep my fingers from stiffening up. Anyway, I guess I finally have time to think about things since I'm early and won't be meeting Caesar until tomorrow morning. It was Hermione's idea for me to get here early, although she expects me to do some sightseeing or whatever. In reality, it's too fucking cold to go out. I might go down to the common room in a bit, as they have a roaring fire going and some mulled cider sounds good. Anyway, Malfoy. He's bloody brilliant. He found the manufacturer of the damned paper that the blackmail note was written on and traced it back to an old family with a grudge against Pinehurst nameless Ministry official. Caesar went in to have a look around, going undercover as an antiquities dealer. Things are back how they were between Malfoy and me, I guess. I can't help wishing.
No sign of Caesar. I'm sending a Patronus to Kingsley and going in.
It's nice to be able to hold a quill again. I haven't been in St Mungo's in a while and although it's good to see the familiar healers, like Marybeth and Jacob, it wasn't so nice to be afflicted with a Brittlebones Curse. It only caught my right side a glancing blow, but it was enough I shattered a few bones when I fell, including my wrist. I still managed to cast a Full-body Bind and stop the girl from killing me. They were not nice people, those blackmailers. Malfoy has been in here a dozen times, berating me for stupidity, as if Kingsley's formal reprimand wasn't enough. Caesar was appreciative, at least. They'd locked him in the basement until they could determine his real identity. Merlin, my hand aches from inactivity. Physical therapy starts tomorrow. Not looking forward to that.
Malfoy spent an hour arguing with Jacob about my physical therapy today because apparently Malfoy has been doing "research" and knows more about what I need than Jacob, a trained healer. Jacob finally kicked him out and then muttered about him being a "stuck-up, poncy, rude know-it-all" and asked how we were even friends. I laughed and told him I didn't know.
Ginny and George came to see me today just as I was finishing up the last of my reps with Jacob. Malfoy popped in just as Gin was giving me a farewell hug and all of a sudden the room was full of weird tension. Gin kept glaring at Malfoy and George was twirling his wand as though itching to hex Malfoy. Jacob, thank Merlin, dragged Malfoy out of there until Ginny and George left. I need to have a talk with the Weasleys and let them know that Malfoy's okay now. Ron knows, but I supposed we never really mentioned it to the others. My mistake.
Malfoy sent me a potion instead of stopping by. I hope he's not holding a grudge about yesterday.