"Hey Malfoy."

The tall, pale man nodded cordially at the greeting. "Hey. Where's Weasley?"

Seamus Finnigan jerked a thumb in the direction of the filing room. "She's in there, looking up something about Tom Riddle."

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes. "She's obsessed with the psycho," he muttered to himself. "Thanks, Seamus." He started walking backwards towards the filing room. "Hey Seamus, tell the boss man I'll be late for the meeting this afternoon," he said. "Got an interview with a hot chick that I just can't turn down." He mock-grimaced and turned around.

"You still milking that Abbott chick for info?" called Seamus. When Draco didn't respond he shook his head and went back to the transcript he'd been thumbing through.

Draco barged into the filling room, sending the doors flinging back with a loud bang. Somewhere near the back he heard a crash and a string of multi-language cursing. He followed the noise.

Virginia Weasley picked up the drawer she'd accidentally yanked out and started trying to put it back in the filing cabinet, muttering under her breath about noisy junior detectives and nosy reporters with nothing better to do.

"You need some help, Gin?"

Virginia looked up and rolled her eyes at her partner. "Well, duh, what do you think, Blondie?" she snapped irritably. "Can't get the stupid drawer back in."

"Think I got here just in time then," said Draco, trying not to smirk. He helped Virginia shove the drawer back in, and then they started picking up the papers she'd dropped.

"So, any new leads?" asked Draco.

"Nope," replied Virginia, shaking her head. "I should know better, I've combed these files hundreds of times over, but I just felt like taking a peek again."

"Ah."

They finished picking up the stray papers and carried them to the small table in the center of the room, already strewn with files.

"I heard there's some new guy joinin' up," said Draco abruptly. "He's supposed to-"

"Have experience with this Tom Riddle character," finished Virginia wearily. "But all the information I've been able to get about his knowledge is they hate each other's guts."

"Well, it was worth a try," muttered Draco. He ran a hand through his almost white hair. "Anyway, I've got more info on the Lawson case. Man, that girl is cagey."

Virginia looked up sharply. "Where is it?"

"In my office. No way I'm gonna haul a briefcase around and ruin my suave image." He struck a romantic pose, and Virginia elbowed him.

"Goof-ball. I'll look at this crud later, let's see the info."

They left the filing room and headed down the long hallway towards the 'offices.' Actually they were more like cubicles, but 'office' was shorter and sounded better.

Draco sat backward in his chair and spun around. He grabbed a slender manila file off the cluttered desk and tossed it to Virginia. She caught it deftly and flipped it open.

"I know I sound like a fanatic, but this whole thing is starting to fit the-"

"Riddle pattern, right?"

Virginia nodded, not even looking up.

"Yeah. Anyway, just keep readin'. This girl's rich, she is. Either she's a brilliant liar or she's telling the truth."

Virginia scrutinized Draco over the rims of her reading glasses, but when he didn't volunteer any more information she shrugged and continued reading.

Cho Chang appeared behind Draco's desk, brandishing a telephone.

"Hey Malfoy, you've got a call from the hospital," she said, brandishing a portable telephone under his nose. "Name 'Hannah Abbott' strike a chord?"

Draco cursed under his breath and seized the telephone.

"Detective Malfoy."

He listened for a moment, then sent Virginia a frustrated look. "Yeah, I'll be right by. Try and keep this under wraps, okay?"

He hung up and handed it back to Cho, who promptly disappeared, brazenly swinging her hips as she went. Draco faced Virginia.

"Hannah Abbot's been killed," he said flatly. "Let's go."

Twenty minutes later they were standing in the hospital morgue.

"Let's see her," said Virginia. The doctor opened the little door and pulled out the long tray with the sheeted body on it.

Virginia pulled the sheet back partially, just enough to reveal the woman's face. It was broken and bruised almost beyond recognition, but she could still make out the high cheekbones and honey blonde hair that made Hannah Abbot easily recognizable to everyone.

"Cause of death?" asked Draco tersely. The doctor consulted her clipboard.

"She had several stab wounds, sir, she bled to death on the ride to the hospital. We also found some things next to her, if you'd like to see them.

Draco and Virginia exchanged looks. Draco nodded. "Yes please. Where are they?"

"Right over here."

Virginia stiffened when she saw the tattered piece of paper bearing the mark of the infamous villain Riddle- a skull with a snake in lieu of a tongue.

"We found this, as well as this." The doctor gestured to a small knife, with a thin blade that was almost seven inches long.

"We'll need to take these in for fingerprint analysis," said Draco, pulling on a rubber glove and placing the objects in plaster bags.

"I'll make sure a medical examiner from our department will come and examine the body," said Virginia to the plump female doctor. "They should be along later today."

The doctor nodded. "That will do fine. Anything else you'd like to see?"

"Have you still got her clothes and her purse?" asked Draco sharply.

"Yes, I'll just go and fetch them."

The doctor bustled off.

"Somebody caught her," said Draco grimly. "This wasn't a random killing, not by any measure of the imagination."

While Draco talked, Virginia fished a camera out of her purse and began photographing the evidence and the body.

"I was already thinking Riddle had something to do with this mess," Draco continued grimly, "but this clinches it. I've got his number."

Virginia tucked the camera away just as the doctor came bustling back in carrying a pair of large plastic bags.

"Here you are," she said, placing them on the table. "Don't know how much use they'll be, though, they're awfully bloody."

"Thank you, Dr. Pomfrey. We'd best be going." The two detectives picked up their booty and left.

"The Riddle case just reopened," said Draco grimly.

* * *

"Yo, Malfoy, Weasley, Ye Olde Boss Man wants a word with ya," Dean Thomas called as they passed. "Somethin' about riddles."

Virginia and Draco sighed and reconfigured their trajectory, instead heading for the chief's office.

Al Dumbledore was well over sixty, but if someone had told Draco he was three hundred ninety-two he'd have believed it without question. The guy was an antique of the saddest sort.

Virginia rapped lightly on Dumbledore's office door—he actually had a real office—and was greeted with an admonition to enter. She grasped the doorknob and opened the door.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, stroking his short, full beard, reading something. He looked up when he heard the door open.

"Ah, Weasley, Malfoy. I've been waiting for you. Have a seat."

They sat in the two chairs before Dumbledore's desk, looking about nervously. Dumbledore may have been ancient (and he was) but he had a sharp mind, and was a formidable foe in any battle of wits.

Dumbledore paused and gave the pair a scrutinizing look. Then he sighed heavily.

"I'm splitting you up."

Virginia's jaw hung slack for a moment, but she shut it with a sharp snap.

"Sir, what're you getting at?" demanded Draco angrily. "We're the best partnership in this whole department!"

"Weasley, you're needed elsewhere," said Dumbledore sharply. "As for you, Malfoy, you're being placed with a new partner, a young man by the name of Potter."

Draco groaned audibly. "You're putting me with Wonder Boy?"

Dumbledore gave him a sharp look and Draco fell silent.

"Malfoy, you're to report here first thing Monday morning. The partnership will be considered in force at that point. You're dismissed. Miss Weasley, please stay a moment."

Draco stood angrily, resisting the urge to chuck his chair at Dumbledore's head, and marched stiff-legged from the room.

* * *

Draco propped his feet up on the coffee table, ignoring the pounding of rain outside his apartment window. He flipped open the file he'd pilfered from the filing room.

Potter, Harold James, it read.

Draco fought down laughter as he read the file. He knew Potter slightly, and he'd heard the water cooler gossip on the midget, but this file took the cake.

He and Riddle were tried-and true enemies, it seemed. He'd taken out Potter's parents, so when Potter was a junior in college he took out—single-handedly, according to the report—ten of Riddle's lackeys. Riddle had gotten away with a badly burned face. Apparently Potter had a penchant for flame-throwers and other dangerous weaponry. The only attribute the guy had that was worth anything, in Draco's book. He felt suddenly very smug over the fact that he'd given Potter several shiners in months past. The kid had been begging for a bit of comeuppance, and this record solidified his opinion of that.

"Wonder Boy," snorted Draco. "Through and through. What a flake. And this is the guy Gin hangs out with on weekends? Please."

He tossed to file on the couch and grabbed the remote, flipping through channels for something at least partially funny and stupid.

Halfway through an episode of the Three Stooges, the telephone rang. Draco put the television on mute and grabbed the offending device.

"Malfoy here."

Dumbledore's voice was cool, calm, and collected. "Hello, Malfoy. I'm afraid I have a bit of bad news for you."

"Yeah? What's that, the Dow Jones hit rock-bottom?"

Dumbledore ignored Draco's flippancy. "Weasley's been kidnapped by Riddle's lackeys."

Draco choked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Malfoy. Come in to the office. Now."

Needless to say, Draco obeyed.

* * *

Harry Potter nervously shifted his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet and back again, hands shoved deep into the pockets of the leather jacket. He felt nervous.

Potter didn't do nervous. He shoved the feeling away.

The door opened. In walked Dumbledore, looking immensely pleased about something (though it was probably more smug than pleased), trailed by a toothpick with hair.

That was Harry's immediate impression, and, indeed, he wasn't far off. While Draco Malfoy was easily one of the tallest men in the department, standing at a rather intimidating six foot four, he was built like the proverbial beanpole. He also looked as if he'd never heard of the word 'tan'.

Harry, on the other hand, was rather short- five feet eight inches, of all things. He was rather lean and muscular due to inordinate amounts of time spent working out, and had a healthy tan. His hair stuck out; of course, but it didn't look as bad as it could, as he'd succeeded in combing it back.

Draco spied the short, dark-haired man and smirked. "You called in the wonder boy? I thought such incompetents weren't allowed on real cases."

Dumbledore shot him a sharp look and Draco clamed up, although he caught a caustic look from the midget. He grinned evilly.

Dumbledore looked squarely at the two men- both of whom had personal connections to Virginia.

"I'm putting you on the Bogan case," he said coldly. "You're not to track down Miss Weasley."

There were twin cries of outrage. Draco had been perched in one of the chairs, but he stood sharply and glowered angrily at Dumbledore.

"You wouldn't dare," he hissed, gray eyes practically glowing with malice. "You wouldn't dare."

"I'm afraid it's already been done," said Dumbledore blandly. "You're both emotionally tied to Virginia, it would alter your judgement."

Draco cursed vehemently and kicked the desk. "No kidding!"

Harry had been silent, but he sighed heavily and nodded. "All right, all right. We won't. We'll do the Bogan case."

Draco shot him a poisonous look that would have made braver men falter, but Harry stood firm. Dumbledore nodded, apparently satisfied.

"Good. Now, go. I'm sure you'd both like to get your thoughts organized."

They stepped out of the office.

Instantly Draco grabbed Harry by the collar and slammed him into the wall.

"What in Hades are you doing?!" he hissed through gritted teeth.

"I never said anything about when we'd do the Bogan case," said Harry defensively, trying to ignore his dangling feet. "You think I actually want some nutter to get off with Virginia?!"

Draco growled and released Harry, who fell back to the floor. He rubbed slightly at his throat, wincing.

"What do you plan on doing?" Draco asked, eyeing the shorter man appraisingly.

Harry adjusted his glasses. "I plan on hauling my rear over to evidence and going through everything they got on her disappearance so far, and then I'm gonna beat the crap out of whoever kidnapped her."

"Nice plan."

"Thanks."

The two men glared at each other. They knew each other both by reputation and through Virginia, and didn't exactly care for each other. More than once they'd been pried off each other in furious fistfights over some tiny fact.

"Look," said Harry impatiently, "I know you hate my guts, but can we please hold back the hostilities at least long enough to find Virginia?"

"I will if you will," Draco retorted. Meaning he agreed.

"Let's go."