Written for week two of the GE Malfoy Manor Fic War.
Prompt word: Fireworks
I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters; J. K. Rowling does. In addition, I do not make any profit from this fanfiction.
Huge thank you to my beta lwalters5 for editing this story on such short notice. Also many thanks to my friend Glorioux, who is always ready to help and support.
The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie*
Fireworks at Malfoy Manor
The air was warm and fragrant. The grey darkness gradually replaced the rosy twilight, capturing the impeccable grounds of the Manor and causing almost everything to turn still and quiet. Only the crickets kept singing their songs somewhere in the grass, unaffected by the dark magic of the dusk.
In stark contrast with the surrounding dimness, the windows of the Manor were brightly lit. Vague sounds of music, voices, and laughter could be heard even from the gardens. It was obvious that young Malfoy's twenty-fifth birthday celebration was in full swing. Suddenly, the balcony doors opened and the noise of the party burst outside, utterly destroying the silent harmony of the night.
While the Manor guests, led by their hosts, were unhurriedly moving from the grand hall to the two balconies, elves on the ground below were deftly finishing their preparations for the pinnacle of the celebration - the fireworks.
Finally, the lights in the Manor were dimmed, the music fell quiet, and it began. Fiery balls rocketed through the black sky, screeching violently, and opened right above the Manor in a spectacular display. Shining brilliantly, they showered down in a splendour of different shapes and colours. Vivid sparkles ignited the air and lit up the elegant crowd that was standing on the balconies. Handsome wizards, clad in impeccably fitted formal robes, and stunning witches, whose silk gowns, with their bare shoulders and open backs, glowed enticingly in the light of the fireworks, watched the spectacle with refined delight, occasionally cheering.
The final round of shots was met with loud applause, and the lights in the grand hall were lit again. The hosts and the guests were still lingering on the balconies, enjoying the warm summer night, when a chilling scream cut the air, rolling through the Manor's every corner and echoing through the grounds, before dying away in the rose gardens.
A Body in the Grand Hall
In panic, the wizards and witches lost their poise for just a moment and rushed into the grand hall. There, on the marble floor, lay Astoria Malfoy's lifeless body. Crimson blood welled from a tiny round wound in her chest, slowly soaking the silk of her light blue gown. Her sister, Daphne Nott, sat nearby, sobbing hysterically.
Draco Malfoy, like everyone else, stood frozen at the horrible sight. Only Theodore Nott, who had been the last to enter, immediately hurried to his sobbing wife, or so it seemed. On reaching Astoria, however, he fell to his knees with no regard for his wife or anyone around him. He gently cradled Astoria's head and began reverently caressing her hair, swaying slightly and softly whispering into her ear. Her husband's odd behaviour forced Daphne to cease her sobbing. She glared at him through her tears and stood up with a temperamental flounce. A second later, she left the hall, keeping her head high.
Meanwhile, the other wizards and witches remained silent and motionless, and their faces clearly reflected their thoughts. However, as the minutes passed by, they slowly managed to hide their emotions, and, one by one, their faces returned to their usual, carefully censored, unreadable expressions. Eventually, Lucius Malfoy stepped forward and briskly walked toward Astoria's body. Hovering over it and dexterously avoiding Theodore's hands, which were still caressing her hair, Lucius pressed his fingers to her neck, and, after a moment, declared, "She is dead. Draco, call Tibald, and I'll get the Aurors." The younger Malfoy bobbed affirmatively and disappeared.
Straightening up, Lucius looked at the guests searchingly. Finally, his eyes found Blaise Zabini. Nodding suggestively in Theodore's direction, he said coldly, "Blaise, take care of this before the Aurors arrive. We don't need unnecessary questions."
Without any hesitation, Blaise quickly moved over to his friend. He gently took Theo's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, Theo, that's enough, get a grip on yourself. The Aurors will be here any minute." Without a word, Theo allowed Blaise to coax him away from the body.
Meanwhile, Lucius turned to the remaining guests, namely, Adrian and Pansy Pucey, and said, "I apologise for this inconvenience, Adrian. However, it will be best for all of us to stay here and wait for the Aurors. I'll seal the Manor so that no one will be able to leave." With that, he made his exit. Theo, Blaise, Adrian, and Pansy, guided by Narcissa Malfoy, followed his example, and soon settled themselves in the dining room, where they were joined, a bit later, by Daphne, still red-eyed from crying. Dense silence enveloped the room. Trying to ease the tension, Narcissa snapped her fingers. The Manor elves appeared without a sound, and offered food and drinks to the guests; but no one was able to eat anything, though the three wizards readily agreed to have a drink.
Miss Hermione Granger, the Auror
Lucius sat in the armchair in front of the Floo, and waited for the Aurors to arrive. He kept his face impassive, and his calm, cold eyes were focused on the marble mantelpiece. Only a subtle tension in his jawline indicated that he was indeed distraught.
As soon as the green flame lit up the fireplace, the wizard stood up and moved closer to it. A moment later, a woman walked out of the Floo. It took Lucius a few seconds to realise that Hermione Granger was standing in front of him.
The wizard arched an eyebrow quizzically as he scrutinised the witch with suspicion. "Miss Granger! What a surprise. I didn't expect to see you here. I was expecting Potter," he said, deliberately letting a slight annoyance come through his words.
Hermione, however, shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and unhurriedly straightened her sensible trousers-and-jacket ensemble. Then, with a polite little smile, she replied, "Harry called in sick, sir, so you have me. Now, would you be so kind as to show me the body?"
For a few long moments Lucius observed the witch silently, his grey, inquisitive eyes slowly measuring her over, from the tips of her shoes to her curly chestnut mane. "Very well, Miss Granger," he answered finally with a tight smile. "Follow me." And he led her to the grand hall, where Astoria's body had been lying for the past half-hour. They arrived to find that Draco and Tibald were already there.
"Granger!" exclaimed Draco in disbelief. "What are you doing here? Where is Potter?"
"I am here to find the murderer of your wife, Malfoy. Harry is sick."
Draco's face paled, and he muttered, with unexpected concern, "Sick? Is it something serious? He didn't - "
"Draco!" Lucius interrupted his son, pinning him to the floor with a glare of disapproval. "Miss Granger is here to investigate the murder of your wife. Let's not waste her time, shall we?"
Draco's eyes met his father's, and a slight pink blush coloured his pale cheeks. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll go and make sure that mother is all right."
Hermione, who had listened to the father-son exchange with great interest, instantly turned her attention to the body on the floor. She squatted beside it and began to study it carefully. Meanwhile, the Healer took a moment to introduce himself. He confirmed that Astoria had died instantly from the wound to her heart. He also reported that, since he hadn't managed to find any traces of Dark magic or detect any harmful spells, the victim had presumably been killed with a Muggle weapon; and since anything Muggle was beyond his expertise, he regretted that he could not provide any more assistance.
Listening to Tibald, Hermione continued her examination of Astoria's body. Soon, she straightened up and spoke. "Hmm, how peculiar. You are right: Astoria was shot in the heart with a Muggle gun. I am grateful for your help, Tibald. It was nice to meet you."
The dismissed Healer said that he would go back to the guests, in case someone needed a Calming Draught, and walked out of the hall.
Lucius and Hermione were left alone with the dead body.
"It doesn't make any sense, Miss Granger," remarked Lucius, who had been watching the witch closely the whole time. "Why on Earth would a magical being use a Muggle weapon?"
"Because, Mister Malfoy, unlike magic, a Muggle weapon is untraceable in our world. Don't you think that that's terribly convenient?" countered Hermione.
"Hmm, perhaps," agreed the blond wizard, though not without reluctance.
"Very well. I think it's senseless to look for a weapon. I am sure that whoever used it, has already made it vanish into oblivion. I have to talk to the guests, and you, your wife, and Draco as well," continued the witch. "Oh, and you may transport the body to the mortuary now. I don't need it any more."
"Thank you for the permission, Miss Granger," replied Lucius drily. "Whom would you like to interrogate first?"
"It is not an interrogation. I'll just ask a few questions because I need more details. I think we can start with Draco."
Nothing Is as It Seems
It took Hermione about two hours to talk with each of the guests individually, so it was quite late when the questioning came to an end. Lucius was the last person she talked with; as soon as he had answered her last question, she asked him to summon everybody to the grand hall. A few minutes later, he, Narcissa, Draco, Daphne, Theo, Blaise, Pansy, and Adrian were standing before her. Astoria's body had been moved to the mortuary, the marble floor had been meticulously cleaned, and there was no reminder of the murder that had taken place there less than three hours ago.
Hermione invited the tired but still rather fine-looking wizards and witches to sit down. When all of them were seated, she spoke. "After talking with each of you, I caught up on a number of details, some of which I would like to investigate further. For a start, let me repeat what I have just learned." And the witch proceeded to give the facts.
"According to Draco, Astoria was the only one who wasn't present during the fireworks. As I understand, she had left about fifteen minutes before the fireworks started, referring to a migraine and a horrendous headache. Therefore, there ought to have been eight people on the balconies during the display." Hermione stopped and gazed at them. "Am I correct so far?"
"Oh, Merlin, Granger," groaned Draco with irritation. "Are you quite finished stating the obvious? Is it really necessary to torture us with this? It's damnably late."
"We are getting to the point, Malfoy. Now, let's continue. During the interviews, only one person was willing to cooperate with me and tell me how many people were actually present on the balconies. Is anyone else willing to share with me their knowledge on this subject?" Hermione once again focused on the eight pairs of eyes that watched her with various degrees of annoyance. "Anyone?" she repeated. As she had expected, all of them kept their faces blank, and the two Malfoys arched their blond eyebrows with identical scepticism.
"Fine, I'll try to do it differently then." Hermione's demeanour changed as she glared at her opponents with hostile determination. "Blaise Zabini, I've been told that you were absent during the fireworks. As we don't have any other leads at this time, I must ask you to come with me to the Ministry for an official interrogation."
Blaise immediately stood up and, without a word, walked to Hermione. "I am ready," said the wizard, eyeing the Auror with an unruffled grin.
"Good. Follow me, please." And Hermione turned to leave.
"Wait." It was Narcissa Malfoy who called after the Auror. "Blaise is innocent. He didn't kill Astoria. He was with me." Lady Malfoy stood in the middle of the hall, in all her pale glory, cool and serene.
This confession seemed to surprise many, even the Auror herself, though the two Malfoys didn't bat an eye. Draco stepped closer to his mother and put his palm on her shoulder. Lucius, however, remained seated and looked positively untouched, if not slightly bored, by his wife's revelation.
Hermione cleared her throat and said, "Hmm. Very well, the official interrogation is postponed. Frankly, I think this is enough for today. As Draco rightly observed, it is quite late, and we had better call it a night. Just for your information, the Manor is sealed, and no one is at liberty to leave: a team of Aurors is on the watch, so I advise you not to try anything funny." Then she turned to Lucius and asked, "Will you be able to find an extra room for me?"
"Most certainly, Miss Granger. I shall make all the arrangements," replied the blond wizard and rose from the chair. He then addressed the guests, "It's been a long and not a very pleasant evening, my friends, and it's time to retire. Good night."
A Late-Night Talk and More Revelations
Hermione couldn't sleep. Unsurprisingly, she kept thinking about the murder. All of a sudden, she jumped from her bed. She needed to find the Manor library. Books had always been her best assistants in the business of solving mysteries. Just to be around books, to be able to breathe in that specific mixture of scents - paper, leather, and dust - never failed to help her focus on her task.
So she Transfigured her blue jacket into a blue silk robe, put it over her ivory slip, and walked from her room in search of the library. Her room was on the second floor, so, having concluded that the library ought to be on the first, she found the stairs and went down; then she saw a dim light and walked towards it, in the hope of finding an elf or someone else who could help her in her quest.
Eventually, she found herself on the threshold of a cosy sitting room. Lucius sat on a settee across from the door with a glass of Firewhisky in his hand. Of course, he noticed her right away. "Insomnia, Miss Granger?" he murmured in his soft baritone as he watched her thoughtfully.
"Yes, we are colleagues in that respect, sir." Hermione made a little step forward and leaned on the doorpost, taking in the sight of the blond wizard in front of her. Lucius looked tired and a bit unfocussed; maybe he was already just a tiny bit tipsy. His face lacked its usual aloofness, and somehow it appeared much softer. She noticed that Lucius' formal robes were carefully folded on the chair, and that the wizard sported only a white shirt and black trousers.
"Well, you have to agree, Miss Granger, it was rather an eventful evening, what with Astoria's murder and Narcissa's confession, and everything just had to happen on Draco's birthday. Poor boy, he was right when he voted against the whole celebration in the first place."
"I am sincerely sorry about Astoria, Mister Malfoy, and I am sorry that I indirectly caused the dissolution of your marriage. I didn't mean any harm." Hermione felt a pang of guilt piercing her heart.
"Ah, Miss Granger, don't be sorry. My marriage with Narcissa has been dead for the last ten years. I am actually glad that she finally succeeded in making the fact public. All she needed was a little push, which you delivered quite artfully." Lucius flashed a smile at her and patted a free space on the settee near him. "Come here, Miss Granger, and have a drink with me. It'll help you to fall asleep."
"I was actually looking for the library, sir." Hermione wavered for a few seconds, but eventually decided that one drink never hurt anyone. Saying "Oh, all right, just one," she went toward the settee and sat down near the wizard. Lucius conjured a second glass and filled it with Firewhisky. The witch took a little sip, enjoying the warmth with which the fiery liquid enveloped her insides.
Lucius nodded with approval and took a sip from his glass as well. "As I was saying, Miss Granger, my marriage is not something to feel sorry about. I regret Astoria's death, though. She was a nice girl." The wizard shook his head wistfully. "You should probably know that Draco and Astoria were going to divorce. The papers had already been drawn up." Lucius took another sip of firewhisky and continued. "You see, Miss Granger, when Draco's marriage was arranged, I had no idea about his preferences."
The phrase took Hermione by surprise; she simply couldn't believe it. "You mean, you know that Draco is gay?" she said in bewilderment.
The older Malfoy smirked. "My dear Miss Granger, do not assume that you know more about Draco than I do. I know everything about him. I even know about his affair with Potter."
"And do you approve, sir?" muttered the flabbergasted witch, her eyes wide in disbelief.
Lucius shook his head once again. "It's not about approval, Miss Granger. It's about tolerance. He is my only son, and I am not about to lose him over a witch or a wizard." With that, he finished his Firewhisky and rose. Extending his hand to Hermione, he drawled, "Let me escort you to the Manor library, Miss Granger. You said you were looking for it." Hermione granted him her hand, and he helped her to stand up.
Then, for a moment, they found themselves just a few inches apart. Lucius, still keeping her hand in his, tilted his face to her ear and whispered, "This blue silk accentuates your stunning skin gorgeously, my dear." His thumb began to caress her palm softly as he continued, "You look mouth-watering in this little robe."
Suddenly feeling all hot and bothered, Hermione made a titanic effort not to melt instantly. She drew a calming sigh and gently removed her hand from the wizard's fingers. "I am flattered, sir. I really am. And, to be honest, you look rather mouth- watering yourself, in that white shirt of yours and with that most enticing protuberance in your trousers. The only but, sir, is that I am on duty."
Lucius chuckled and stepped back. "Cheeky little witch," he drawled. "Very well, Miss Granger, we will postpone our exchange of compliments to ... ahem, off-duty time. Follow me, my dear, I'll show you where the library is."
Minutes later, he brought her to the library. "Here it is, all yours. Good night, Miss Granger." He gave her hand a lingering kiss, ever so slightly grazing her warm skin with his teeth and evoking wild butterflies in her stomach.
"Good night, sir," she whispered. Then, suddenly, she remembered something. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Do any of your guests smoke?"
The wizard faced her once again and answered, "Well, we all enjoy an occasional cigar, Miss Granger. Alas, this night, we didn't get a chance. Have you any more questions, Auror Hermione Granger?" he asked with a mocking smile.
"Only one more, I promise you. What is wrong with Theo? He looked utterly bereft when I interviewed him."
"The boy loved Astoria, and I think Astoria was also partial to him. I cannot understand why he married Daphne."
"Oh, I see. Thank you, sir, and good night."
Lucius turned on his heel and disappeared down the dimly-lit corridor.
A Conclusion
In the morning, after breakfast, all the occupants of the Manor gathered in the grand hall. They had all received a note from Hermione Granger, asking them to wait for her there. Mysteriously, Daphne was the only one who had been asked to wear her dress from last night, and this fact evidently annoyed her enormously, as she couldn't stop talking about it, complaining that never in her life had she been forced to wear the same dress twice. All the other witches just shrugged their shoulders and looked at her with barely concealed disdain.
Finally, at precisely ten o'clock, Hermione walked in, followed by two Aurors. "Good morning," said the witch brightly.
"Can you explain to me why I am the only one who needed to wear her dress from last night?" the enraged Daphne inquired in a high-pitched voice, the moment she saw Hermione.
"Of course I can. You will find out in a minute. It's a beautiful dress, by the way. You look fabulous in it. Too bad you ruined it with that Muggle gun of yours. I wonder where you got it?"
Daphne's face paled as the two Aurors quietly appeared behind her and took a hold of her arms. "What are you talking about?"
Hermione smiled. "I am talking about this little hole in your dress, Daphne. I suspect that whoever taught you to use the Muggle gun, didn't tell you about the bullet casing. It burned a hole in your dress after you shot your sister. It's probably still there, trapped between the outer material and the lining. Let me check." She tore the hem of Daphne's dress, and, a moment later, the bullet casing was in her fingers. "Here it is," declared the witch in triumph.
"I bought it in Knockturn Alley," said Daphne, her voice suddenly cold and eerie. "I asked for something untraceable, and they sold me that Muggle thing. I don't regret killing the bitch, not even for a minute. She tried to destroy my family, to steal my husband. I love Theo, and she wanted to steal him from me. I'm sure that she wasn't my sister. I can swear that my mum had an affair, probably with some filthy Muggle. We don't even look alike." Daphne's voice began to rise, turning into an unbearable screech. "I still hate the bitch! Hate her! HATE HER!"
Hermione signalled to the Aurors, and they hastily piloted the yelling Daphne away from the hall and the Manor.
Hermione sighed and said, "Thank you for your cooperation. You are free to go."
An hour later, after Theo, Pansy and Adrian had gone home, Draco had run to tend to the sick Harry, and Narcissa had left with Blaise, Lucius and Hermione sat on the settee in a cosy sitting-room. It was too early for a Firewhisky, so they settled for wine.
"So, how did you manage to do it? How did you know where to look for that thing in Daphne's dress? Tell me, Hermione - I may call you Hermione, mayn't I?" asked the wizard in his deliciously low murmur.
"Certainly you may, Lucius," said the witch. "Well, I noticed that hole in her dress during the interview. At first, I thought that it was from a cigar or cigarette. But after you said that nobody had been smoking yesterday, I started to wonder what else it could be. Then it struck me - given Draco's impending divorce and Theo's love, the motive became clear. Poor Astoria probably tried to escape and Apparated to the hall. Daphne must have Side-Along with her and shot her in there. It was dark inside, so nobody could see anything, and the fireworks conveniently muffled the gunshot."
"What a beastly girl," Lucius remarked thoughtfully.
"The only thing that baffles me is why Daphne told me about Blaise. Obviously, she had seen Narcissa with him on her way to Astoria's room. But why did she decide to expose that fact? It certainly didn't help her in any way. Stupid," muttered the witch.
"Maybe it was stupid, but it definitely served me well. I can finally free myself." The wizard put his long, pale hand on Hermione's small one and purred, "Would you be willing to have a dinner with me, Hermione, once my divorce is complete?"
"I would be delighted," replied the witch.
"May I have a little kiss in advance?" he whispered in her ear, already tracing her earlobe with his lips.
"Just one," the witch managed to breathe, before he claimed her mouth.
Postscript
There were many celebrations in Malfoy Manor over the years, but none of them featured fireworks.
*Luis Buñuel
Please review, my darlings.
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