The Malfoy Project

𝟑𝟒 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐈

༻⚜༺

     "What the hell are you doing here?" I growled, digging my wand to his neck. "Spying on us? Who sent you?"

     Ernie struggled violently, trying to wriggle away from the sharp point. "I— I was just—"

     "I swear to Merlin if you don't answer me in the next two seconds—"

     "It's just a few pictures, I swear!" he cried. "It's for the paper."

     "Oh yeah?" I scoffed. "Didn't know the school was suddenly so interested in my family. And I don't think McGonagall'l be terribly pleased to receive a letter from our lawyer about allowing a student to trespass on private property, not to mention committing a blatant invasion of privacy. Definitely worth a week in Azkaban — or two, depending on how generous Mr. Selwyn feels tomorrow morning."

     "No, no, wait!" pleaded Ernie. "It wasn't McGonagall!"

     "Fine, I'll get him to address the letter to Miss Hermione Granger, then."

     "It wasn't the school! It wasn't the school!" he wailed. "It was the Daily Prophet."

     "What?"

     "It— it was Rita," he said. "The pictures are for her. She told him to take them!"

     I threw him to the ground, keeping my wand trained on him as he scrambled to right himself. "Rita? She put you up to this? How did she know there'd be a dinner tonight? Who told her? What else does she know?"

     He swiped an arm over his reddened nose. "Look, mate, I don't know anything, okay? She just sent me a letter on Wednesday telling me she had a job for me. I just had to come every weekend and if I saw anything interesting I... I was to take pictures and.. she'd pay me for them."

     His freckled face was scrunched up in fear, and his tearful expression only further enraged me.  "Are you a fucking idiot, Macmillan?" I gave him such a shove that he fell back onto the ground. "Why on earth would you trust Rita Skeeter? Do you have any idea how much she's fucked my family over? Do you know how she ruined Ainsley's life?"

     I placed my foot over his belly and aimed my wand squarely at his face. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't fucking kill you right where you are. You can join the dozen other bodies beneath this soil right here. That way you can stay here for as long as you'd like."

     "I— I just really needed the money," he admitted hoarsely, shielding his face with his arms. I looked at the cowering boy under my boot, whimpering like a little puppy. He was so small, so skinny. I could beat him up, kill him, even.

     "How much?"

     "Th— three hundred Galleons."

     I reached into my jacket, pulled out the flask and downed the rest of its contents, screwed the lid back on, and tossed it onto the dead grass next to him. "Silver," I said, "made from Occamy eggs. Should fetch about two thousand Galleons at the pawnbrokers in Knockturn Alley. Now get the fuck out and make damned sure I never see your face at school or you will no longer have a face."

     I picked up the camera from the ground and spun on my heels to leave when he said in a low voice: "It's a good thing Cedric isn't here to see her."

     I halted in my tracks, turned around. "What did you say?"

     He was slipping the flask into the pocket of his trousers. "I said, it's a good thing Cedric isn't here to see Ains. Dining with the very people who murdered him. He would've been very disappointed in her."