Revenge
Is Sour
Arthur
Weasley leant against his desk, and stared at the picture on the opposite wall
– it was the one that had been of his family for the Daily Prophet, in Egypt
last summer. Memories flooded back to him, as he remembered the scream of Mrs
Weasley when he announced to her that they had won the Annual Daily Prophet
Grand Prize Galleon Draw; the family had spent fantastic month in Egypt; a well
needed break for them all. He swallowed as he wondered whether he would ever
see his six sons, one daughter and wife again after this night. Then he pulled
himself together, pulled his robes round him, and walked out of the office. As
he walked along the corridor to the exit, many of the other workers at the
Ministry of Magic came up to him.
"Good
luck, Sir. You have my full support."
"You
show that scumbag what you're made of!"
"I'll
see you tonight at the house, Sir." Mr Weasley nodded in appreciation to his
colleagues, and was just about to open the door, when a small man in an orange
and lime green pinstriped cloak put his hand on Mr Weasley's shoulder.
"Arthur,
I just wanted to say a few words about tonight." Cornelius Fudge, the Minister
for Magic, steered Mr Weasley into a small office off the corridor, and
adjusted his cloak, looking nervous. "I hope you know how serious this
operation will be, Arthur. It'll be no easy job, and there are very serious
risks involved."
"I
do understand, Sir, but the whole Ministry's been trying to get something on
Lucius Malfoy since you-know-who disappeared. I think tonight's the night, Sir.
I do realise the risks, but someone needs to do this."
Fudge
swallowed. "I'm glad the Ministry has someone as dedicated as you in it. I wish
you the greatest of luck, and you know that that Hit Wizards will be waiting
outside if you need their help."
"Thank
you, Sir. I'll report to you first thing tomorrow morning with the news of the
raid." Mr Weasley nodded to the Minister, left the building, and set off for
The Burrow.
*
After
Apparating home, Mr Weasley appeared outside the door, and a small red-headed
figure threw herself at him. "Ginny!"
"Hi
Dad, good day at work? Mum's in a really bad mood 'cos Fred and George put a
Shrinking Spell on Percy's new robes – you know, the ones Mum got him in Diagon
Alley last week for getting promoted – well anyway, Percy keeps putting them on
and walking round the house in them, showing them off, and today he was trying
to take them off and they kept shrinking, so they got stuck round his head! It
was ever so funny, you should have seen it! Percy was furious; it took him
about half an hour to get them off, because his wand got stuck in the robe
pocket (the pocket shrunk as well!" Ginny grinned, and dragged Mr Weasley into
the house.
Molly
Weasley was making dinner. Well, she was actually waving her wand at a loaf of
bread and some cheese; the cheese was cutting itself, landing on the bread, and
the bread was flying over to the fire to cook. Percy was sitting by the fire
reading a book entitled 'The Revision Guide to HAGs', and Ron was explaining
what HAGs were to Harry, who had been staying at The Burrow that summer ("Oh,
HAGs stand for Horribly Advanced Grades; they're what you do after you've left
school - Percy's doing seven or something
– you're only meant to do three. I bet Hermione'll do more than that, if she
possibly can!" "Oh, so a bit like a degree, that's what you can do in the
Muggle world."). The last two Weasleys in the house were Fred and George; they
were sitting in the corner of the kitchen, discussing what else they could do
to Percy's robes to annoy him.
Mr
Weasley walked through the door, Ginny at his side, and greeted his family –
"Hi Dad, did you hear what we did to Percy's robes, it was hysterical!" "Good
evening, Father, how was your day – you did tell Mr Fletcher why I wasn't at
work today, didn't you?" "Arthur, I'm so glad to see you, I've been worrying
about you all today. You can't go to that place tonight, I won't let you." Mr
Weasley sunk into his usual armchair, and smiled. He grinned and congratulated
Fred and George, while trying to reprimand them under the eye of Mrs Weasley
(no easy task); he informed Percy that Mr Fletcher was happy with Percy missing
his first ever day at work; he waved at Harry and Ron over by the fireplace,
and he convinced Mrs Weasley that his mind was made up about that night.
After
a quick meal, Mr Weasley announced that he was about to leave: "Well, as Molly
has told you, I'm visiting Lucius Malfoy's manor tonight. At the Ministry we
have received news that many of You-Know-Who's old school items, and many
illegal poisons are stored behind a bookcase in the drawing room of the manor.
We've been wanting to arrest Lucius Malfoy for years for something, and this is
our chance. I've volunteered to go, so that's where I'm off to now."
"Will
it be dangerous, Dad?" asked Ginny.
"I
hope not. Malfoy is not expecting the raid, so the element of surprise should
mean that I get the proof I need, get the Hit Wizards in, and Malfoy will be
under arrest by tomorrow morning." Mr Weasley said his goodbyes; Ginny and Mrs
Weasley looked petrified, but he assured them that nothing would happen to him;
Fred and George encouraged him to punch Mr Malfoy as much as he could, and
Percy said that if anything happened to him, he would be proud to take over his
job. Harry stood by the fire – he didn't want to get in the way of the family,
but he wanted to say thankyou to Mr Weasley for all the help he had given
Harry. Mr Weasley noticed him, however, and went over. "I'll see you tomorrow,
Harry, ok?"
"I…I…I
just wanted to say thankyou," Harry stammered, going red. "For letting me stay
at The Burrow and everything…" Mr Weasley patted him affectionately on the
head, grinned at his red-headed family, and walked out through the door.
*
It
was half past one in the morning. Mr Weasley had just sorted out the signal he
was to give out to the Hit Wizards, should he be in any trouble. They were
going to wait just outside the Malfoy's manor, while Mr Weasley went inside.
They had offered to go in with him, but Mr Weasley thought that, if ten
Ministry of Magic Hit Wizards marched into the manor, Lucius was much more
likely to turn nasty. No, he would go in and face him, man to man.
He
walked down the mossy path to the front door of the manor. The height of the
door alone was about the height of the first floor back at the Burrow. Mr
Weasley put his wand inside his robes – "Don't want to give the wrong
impression and get off on the wrong foot," he thought to himself, as he knocked
on the door. It swung open, to reveal a small figure wrapped in an old sheet.
It was one of the Malfoy's many house elves. "I was wishing to speak with Mr
Malfoy," he said, trying not to let his voice tremble. "He isn't expecting me."
"Well
you're wrong there, actually," said an oily voice, and Mr Malfoy swept in front
of the house elf, pushing her aside. "I've known that you would be coming this
evening for about four days."
"Erm,
good evening, Lucius. May I come in?"
"Of
course, of course, where are my manners? Do go straight through to the drawing
room, I'll be there in a minute." Mr Weasley followed the house elf into the
drawing room. It was oak-panelled, with a very high ceiling, glass cabinets
around the walls and a bookcase against the previous wall, presumably the
bookcase behind which the poisons were stored. There was a fire on the right of
the door through which Mr Weasley had just entered, but it had not been lit; in
fact, the whole room was very cold, and Mr Weasley pulled his cloak tightly
around him as he thought carefully about what he would say to Lucius Malfoy.
Just as he was staring at a glass jar in a cabinet over the fireplace, Mr
Malfoy walked into the room. "Admiring my pickled animals, are we, Arthur?" Mr
Weasley's stomach gave a lurch and he made an indistinct noise in reply.
"Right,
take a seat and you can tell me exactly why you called." Mr Weasley chose a
leather-backed chair by the window, and Mr Malfoy chose one opposite him, next
to a small oak table.
"Lucius,
I'm not here on a social visit, which I'm sure you guessed. At the Ministry we
have received the unfortunate and rather alarming news of a list of people
storing You-Know-Who's old school items, and a number of highly dangerous and
illegal poisons."
"But
what's that got to do with me?" drawled Mr Malfoy.
"One
of the people on the list……was you."
"Me?
How absurd. I assume you've got your facts wrong, Arthur. I would never have
anything illegal in my house – you know how I support the Ministry, and
everything they do."
"Well,
if you don't mind, Lucius, please let me check your house. If you're not hiding
anything then you'll have no problem with me looking round, will you?" Mr
Weasley looked carefully at Lucius Malfoy, but he couldn't tell what he was
thinking – his pale, gaunt face was like a mask, giving away nothing.
"Are
you saying that you won't take my word that I have nothing here? The word of
Lucius Malfoy?" Mr Malfoy's eyes closed to slits, and he stared hard at Mr
Weasley. It was so cold that there were white clouds of condensation as Lucius
Malfoy breathed out.
Mr
Weasley took a deep breath and stood up. "Mr Malfoy, I am under orders to check
your property. I have reason to believe that you are hiding goods that belonged
to You-Know-You. I must check your house."
Lucius
Malfoy reached under the oak table next to his seat, then he stood up. "I know
that you have more children than you can afford," he spat at Mr Weasley. "I
also know that you consider filthy Mudbloods and Muggles more important than
Wizards. However, I didn't think that you would accuse one of the finest
Wizarding families in England of being in league with Voldemort."
Mr
Weasley stood up and faced Mr Malfoy. "Don't you dare insult my family," he
said, his voice shaking with fury. "I came here to check your house, and you
have stopped me from doing that. I know have even more reason to believe that
you are hiding something in this manor. I can signal to the Hit Wizards waiting
outside, and they will come in here and check your house with or without your
permission. All I have to do is signal."
"I'm
afraid it's too late for that." As Mr Weasley stared, uncomprehending, at
Malfoy's face, as the door opened, and the house elf who had opened the door,
walked in. He was carrying a purple and silver cushion, and on top of it was a
shining metal black wand. "This is what Muggles call a gun. Since you seem to
love Muggles so much, I think that you should die by a Muggle weapon."
Mr
Weasley paled – he had been told about guns at work one day, and, despite being
a Muggle weapon, there was no way that Wizards could block the curse or
whatever it was that came out of it. "Lucius, what are you talking about," Mr
Weasley said, laughing nervously. "No one is going to die – if you don't want
me to check your house, we'll come back another time. Those Muggle weapons are
dangerous, you don't understand."
Lucius
laughed, evilly, madly. "Oh, I understand. More than you ever will. You and
your colleagues at the Ministry of Magic have been extremely tiresome to me –
always butting in where you're not needed, and spoiling you plans. Slightly
like that brat, Harry Potter, who gets in the way whenever the Dark Lord is
ready to some back to power." Mr Weasley reached inside his robes for his wand,
but Mr Malfoy had yelled, "Expelliarmus!" The wand sailed into Malfoy's
hand, and he called, "Draco, come here my boy."
Draco
Malfoy, pale and drawn as his father, walked into the room. He kicked the house
elf out of the door, closing it behind it, and picked up the gun which was lying
on the cushion. He smirked as he stroked his hand along it, then passed it to
his father. "So, you will die by a Muggle weapon, doing the job which you think
is so brave and noble," sneered Mr Malfoy. "Why don't you just get down on your
knees and beg?"
Mr
Weasley stared straight at Mr Malfoy. "If I die now, I wish to die standing up
to my enemies, not begging for mercy."
Mr
Malfoy frowned, then drawled, "Still, no matter. Say goodbye to your family,
you pathetic, Muggle-loving fool!" Mr Malfoy pointed the gun at Mr Weasley, and
took aim, but suddenly the door opened, and a house elf appeared.
"Please
Sir, I was wondering if Mr Malfoy would be wanting a drink this evening, or if
I am off-duty for the evening now, Sir."
Mr Malfoy
threw the gun to the floor in his rage, and kicked the house elf out of the
room. "NEVER DISTURB ME WITHOUT MY PERMISSION," he yelled at the unfortunate
elf. "YOU WILL RECEIVE YOUR PUNISHMENT IN THE MORNING!" The poor elf's screams
faded away, then Mr Malfoy marched back to the room where Draco was staring at
Mr Weasley, and Mr Weasley……was holding the gun.
Mr Malfoy
reached for the wands inside his robes, but too late – Mr Weasley had pulled
the trigger. There was a huge yell of "Nooooooo," as Draco jumped in front of
his father, the bullet struck, and he fell to the ground, dead. Mr Malfoy bent,
aghast, over his son, who lay crumpled on the ground. Mr Weasley lowered the
gun, staring horror-struck at the boy, his own son's age, lying on the ground.
He had killed him.
*