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Framed
By MichiganMuggle

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Romance
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Extreme Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use, Rape
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 193
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter is training to be an Auror, and he is finally back together with Ginny Weasley. But when a young woman dies of poisoning at the Ministry’s Midsummer Ball, Harry is the first suspect, and he can only uncover the true murderer by working with his childhood rival, Draco Malfoy.
Hitcount: Story Total: 56138; Chapter Total: 1143
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Nearly done! After this chapter, there are only two more chapters and an epilogue.




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Chapter 30: The Most Awkward Double Date

July 2, 1998, 4:52 p.m.
St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

When Harry had joined the Aurors, Ginny had been prepared for many things. That Harry would be Stunned regularly, that he’d collect a few new scars, that he’d have to work the occasional Christmas, and that there would be things about his job that he couldn’t tell her.

She had not been prepared for airborne poison.

When they received the owl stating that Harry had inhaled airborne poisons while out on a case and was being treated with ventilation charms on the Potions and Plant Poisoning floor of St. Mungo’s, she had no frame of reference. How much poison? Was he in critical condition? Or would he simply be coughing for the next week?

And she hated St. Mungo’s with its endless corridors, patients who had been cursed to have eels for fingers or antlers for ears, and it’s bossy staff.

“Ginny, don’t run. We don’t need another inpatient.”

Ginny ignored her mother. She’d paused at the Welcome Witch’s desk long enough to learn where her boyfriend was admitted. Besides she wasn’t running; she was walking briskly.

She couldn’t help it if her mother’s legs weren’t long enough to keep up.

When she reached Harry and Neville’s room, she expected to find grim faced Healers hovering over Harry’s unconscious form. Instead, she found both boys sitting up in their beds, entertaining their colleagues with a story.

“And then we threw the flaming fern at the door,” Harry was saying, making tossing motions.

“And then everything was on fire!” Neville said. “Except the door we were trying to burn down, of course.”

The Aurors all laughed.

“I thought we were done for,” Harry said. “And then . . . Ginny!”

“I was led to believe that I would find you on your deathbed,” Ginny said with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Turns out they don’t make deathbeds like they used to,” Harry said.

“So, this is Arthur and Molly’s disobedient daughter?” A middle aged man asked.

“That she is, Gawain,” Molly remarked behind her, before Ginny could respond.

“What is this?” Ginny said, noting that Harry was pinkening.

“That’s how my parents introduce me too. Hi, Ginny!” Kelly said.

“Hi, Kelly,” Ginny said. She had met Harry’s mentor on a couple previous occasions and liked her very much, but today her focus was all on Harry. She locked eyes with him. “So, you were nearly in flames . . .”

“Oh, it was just a little warm,” Harry said, looking away.

“Oh, but I want to hear this.” She sat down on the edge of his bed. “So, there were flames everywhere. Except the door.”

Harry seemed eager to wrap up story time. “But then Delilah Hannigan came home. As Blaise had done locking and silencing charms on the courtyard, she had no idea she would find her beloved plants in flame.”

“I never thought I would flatten a classmate’s mother,” Neville said. “But if it had to happen, I’m glad Blaise’s mum was the mum in question.”

“She was sent off to Azkaban a bit bruised,” an Auror confirmed. “There may have been a boot print on her face.”

“So, Blaise and his mum are both in Azkaban?” Ginny asked.

She noticed that Harry was staring at her intently.

“Yes, they are,” Kelly confirmed.

“Good,” Ginny said. “May they rot for what they did to Romilda.”

* * * *


July 17, 1998, 7:00 p.m.
Chez Magique, Diagon Alley

It was a testament to how much Harry loved Ginny that he agreed to a double date with Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass. But she could see his resolve was being tested as he sat across from Malfoy at Chez Magique, the hottest new restaurant in Diagon Alley.

“I forgot to ask, Astoria, did Daphne ever get to come here with Roger?” Ginny asked.

“She did, and she wore her super sexy robes. And they broke up three days later,” Astoria said.

“Well, she won’t stay single for long if she keeps wearing those robes,” Ginny said.

“Ugh, don’t encourage her. She’ll only find another Roger.”

Both boys made a face.

“What?” Ginny said.

“Roger Davies? That Roger?” Harry asked.

“Yes. That Roger,” Astoria said with a face that said she quite agreed.

“You have found your first common ground,” Ginny said to Harry and Draco. “A shared hatred of Roger Davies.”

“Well, what’s to like?” Harry said, and at the same time, Draco said, ““He’s not even that good at Quidditch.”

Ginny and Astoria both laughed.

“Have either of you been here? It’s the first time for both me and Harry.” Ginny asked.

Draco shook his head.

“No, but I was excited when you suggested it,” Astoria said. “It’s getting great reviews. It even won over the cranky food critic at the Prophet, Milton Boyles.”

Postwar, Diagon Alley was in a state of transition. Several stores that had been in business for centuries had been shuttered permanently, while new ones were opening that were at odds with the reigning Diagon Alley aesthetic of cluttered, dark, and antique. And with each new business opening, the Daily Prophet published a new and angry letter-to-the-editor from traditional witches and wizards who were concerned that interest in Muggle culture indicated a backlash against wizarding culture.

There was a new bookshop that offered a tea and coffee shop on premises (“It is a disgrace to the prestigious history of printing to have tea stains on tomes!” Virgil Atkinson, 83, of Northumberland wrote to the Prophet), a boutique that sold Muggle influenced women’s fashions (“An attack on feminine modesty,” Ginny’s own Great Aunt Muriel wrote), and several pricey restaurants like Chez Magique that offered small plates and rainbow colored martinis (“You mark my words, there are mind control potions in those fruity drinks,” Archibald Wallace, 99, of Kent wrote).

But the angriest pureblood of all was Walton Dalrymple, 103, of Cornwall who penned a letter-to-the-editor titled “It’s OK to be a wizard” to the Prophet, which inspired both a movement of support and a movement of mockery.

Ginny didn’t understand the outrage with Chez Magique. While it was more modern than most restaurants in Diagon Alley with its elegant and minimalist decor, the ceiling had been charmed to resemble the sky in a nod to Hogwarts, and there was nothing specifically Muggle about its appearance. The menu did depart from the traditional British fare that dominated Diagon Alley for centuries, instead offering dishes from a fusion of cultures. Milton Boyles, the food critic, was in agreement with her, having called dinner at Chez Magique a meal time Grand Tour of Europe.

“I read that article, too,” Ginny said. “That’s part of the reason I suggested it. My friend, Hannah, is going to start working here next week.”

“Hannah Abbott?” Harry asked.

“Yes, she’s training to be a chef. She’ll need to do a few years of culinary school in France if she wants to start her own restaurant, but the head chef here was good friends with her mum, so she’ll start her training under him.”

“That’s exciting,” Astoria said. “I love to cook, but I’ve never considered it as a career path. It would be fun to follow your own vision and set your own menus, but working nights is unappealing to me.”

“I could never enjoy cooking,” Ginny said. “I’ve been my mum’s sous chef for too long, and our family is huge. I do have a great love of eating–all the Weasleys do–so I suppose that will always force me to cook. But I much prefer this, enjoying a glass of wine and ordering a meal that someone else prepared.”

“It is nice,” Astoria said. “I’m a little surprised no one asked if I was seventeen before giving me wine.”

She blushed after saying that, and Ginny supposed she hadn’t meant to draw attention to the fact that she was the youngest at the table. She knew what the other girl meant though. Ginny had taken great care with her appearance that evening, borrowing a midnight blue fit-and-flare dress from Hermione and following a smokey eye tutorial in Witch Weekly, hoping that she would not look too young to dine at Chez Magique.

It felt glamorous to be eating there, with the long white tablecloths, the heavy silver candelabras on each table, and the witches in beautiful clothing. It wasn’t like having a meal at the Leaky Cauldron with her mum on a shopping day or going to the Three Broomsticks with a Hogwarts date. It was one of those adults only activities that she had always assumed would be in her future when she would have a full time job.

“I’m not of age either,” Ginny confessed to put her at ease. “I have an August birthday. I suppose it’s a perk of being out with these two.”

“Because Draco and I are such old men?” Harry asked.

“Old and venerable,” Ginny said. “I think I see a little silver at your temples.”

“After my second near brush with Azkaban, I feel old,” Draco confessed. “In hindsight, I should have known it was Blaise.”

“Why is that?” Harry asked. “He fooled everyone.”

“After I read the news, I remembered something Crabbe said to Zabini at a Valentine’s Day poker party in the Slytherin Common Room. While everyone else was playing cards and drinking, Crabbe and Goyle snuck out to roam the castle, looking for girls to attack. After they were caught by one of the Carrows, Zabini criticized Crabbe for his actions. Crabbe responded with, ‘You’re no better than us.’ At the time, I thought it was a standard, ‘Who are you to judge me?’ response, but Crabbe was outing Zabini. Because if Crabbe and Goyle were caught, Zabini would go down with them.”

Ginny pondered that. “There were no known rapes after that.”

“Because Zabini had realized what a liability the other boys were,” Draco said. “His reputation was clean, but he could fall quickly.”

“And he began focusing solely on Romilda after that point,” Harry said.

“Why did he kill her?” Draco said. “Was she going to turn him in?”

“No, she didn’t know who her attackers were,” Harry said. He quickly did a Muffliato charm. “It’s been kept out of the papers, but Romilda was pregnant at the time of her murder.”

“And everyone in Blaise’s family looks alike. Do you think Blaise will be convicted?”

Harry nodded. “He confessed to me and Neville when he thought we wouldn’t survive his mother’s poison garden.”

Draco stared. “You were in the famous Zabini poison garden? With the man eating tree?”

“Yes, and everything was on fire,” Harry said.

Ginny rolled her eyes. Count on Harry to want to emphasize the danger. “You caused that fire.”

“Of course we did. We were wandless and locked in a poison garden. How else were we supposed to draw anyone’s attention?”

Astoria took a sip of her wine. “Sounds like you had fun.”

“Join the Aurors and you’ll never miss out on the fun.” Harry paused to ponder that. “Actually, consider that. Our current sketch artist can’t do half of what you can.”

“Astoria’s training to be a healer,” Draco said.

“You can draw, cook, and heal?” Ginny said. “Very impressive.”

“She is very impressive,” Draco said quietly.

“What are your plans, Draco? Please don’t say the Aurors,” Harry said. He leaned across the table and added, “I’ve heard you can’t sketch a stick figure.”

Draco laughed. “You heard wrong. I draw a mean stick figure. But no, not the Aurors. I have an interview with Gringotts next week. They have a new class of Curse Breakers starting soon.”

“You didn’t tell me that!” Astoria said. “That’s amazing.”

“It’s just an interview,” Draco said. “If I don’t get it, I might end up stuck at the potions journal my father keeps pushing me towards.”

Ginny had never seen Draco look uncertain before, and she had a curious urge to reassure him. “Good luck, Draco. My brother, Bill, is a curse breaker, and he loves it. He worked in Egypt when he was single.”

“I’d have to stick to domestic work for five years due to my Ministry ruling, but that’s okay. I’ve been studying the Druids and other civilizations of ancient Britain, and there is some pretty interesting local work.”

To Ginny's surprise, Harry raised his wine glass. “To a successful interview.”

They all clinked glasses, and Ginny felt proud of her boyfriend. She knew he would never like Draco, and she probably wouldn’t either, but they both liked Astoria and felt it was time for a civil and adult relationship with Draco Malfoy.
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