The Cupcake Gambit – A Tale of Pastry and Sin

A/N – Everything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe is the property of JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners. The main exception to this is a certain remarkable lagomorph, and his disclaimer will come at the end. Also, the concept of the spell egg was introduced by Ed Greengrass in his World of Faerun setting for Dungeons and Dragons. If Elminster shows up to retrieve it, give him the egg. He's been in a bad mood lately.

Another note, this is set in the same setting as 'On the Ninth Day of Christmas' and 'There's a Reason to Fear the Dark'. Which means Luna, Harry, and Hermione are married. It's only referenced in the story, but if that sort of thing leaves you out of sorts, you have been warned.

Finally, this story was written in response to the Cupcake Challenge by Mopcat in the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum on . The requirement was that someone must either give or bake a cupcake for another individual and one of the permitted prompts was one or more handwritten letters.

Chapter One – In the Bleak Midwinter

20 December, 2022 – a manor house on the Isle of Vermentry, Shetland Isles, Scotland

Lucius Malfoy was a wizard on the run. Even though he had paid his 'Debt to Society', as that mewling mudblood had called his incarceration in Azkaban for twenty-five years when he was released, he had been in hiding since three days after his release.

Apparently there was someone out there who wasn't as magnanimous as the current leadership of the Ministry, someone who was unwilling or unable to forget the things that had happened during Lord Voldemort's first rise to power.

Mentally wincing as he thought back to that hellish day in 1998 when that mudblood swot that Potter had protected testified during his trial. He failed as he tried to blot that hour from his memory, because it was seared there not only by what she had said, but the look on his son's face as she systematically destroyed Draco's worldview.

Not only was her testimony about his role in the treatment of the prisoners in his manor house particularly damning, but that thrice cursed advocate had let her go on about how the pureblooded elite of wizarding society had been following the half-blood bastard of a squib and a muggle.

The fact that he had risked his family fortune and his personal future on someone who was little better than a mudblood was almost as galling as the fact that one of Potter's whores was currently sitting in the Minister's chair. But that alone would have not set him on the run.

Carefully closing the door of the old manor house behind him, Lucius thanked his grandfather's foresight that had seen this property quietly pass into the control of the family back in the 1840's. Never appearing on any Ministry records, his grandfather had succeeded in hiding the fact that the Malfoys had owned the isle since driving the last of its mudblood residents back to the mainland.

Simply having to hide from the occasional mudblood visitor to the isolated isle kept the power of the wards needed to such a low level that it had not drawn any attention from the ministry in almost two centuries.

Sealing the door, and activating the wards that would prevent any witch or wizard from entering the house without his consent. Lucius made his cautious way to the main salon. Waving his hand in a languid manner, the lights around the room lit and the floo sprung to life, beginning to take the arctic chill from the air.

Walking over to his desk, he looked down at the copies of The Daily Prophet his factor had collected for him over the past five years. Knowing that his employer would be acutely interested in the fact that six of his old comrades had died under the same macabre circumstances within a fortnight of their release from Azkaban, Malcolm Stewart had dutifully collected the papers that announced the deaths of those released who had survived both the First and Second Blood Wars.

While the details released in the newspapers were sketchy at best, they were also remarkably consistent. All six of his fellow Death Eaters had been found dead from some sort of attack. Alongside the bodies were always at least two handwritten documents. One or more were in the victim's own hand that either made reference to or detailed some crime that the victim had committed but was never charged and either convicted for or acquitted of, usually a murder or other capital crime.

The other was a letter to the victim, written in an unknown hand, pointing out that the soon to be deceased was guilty of a crime or crimes that they had never acknowledged and urged them to 'go to the authorities and seek justice before Justice seeks you out'.

Finally, the Dark Mark was found floating over the site, causing the press to speculate that there was a rogue Death Eater decimating his or her fellows to assuage their guilty conscience. While Lucius refused to believe any of his contemporaries would act in such a manner, apparently the theory was accepted by enough of the younger Death Eaters and their associates from Riddle's last rise that each death was followed by at least a half dozen former followers of Voldemort coming in and confessing to crimes that had escaped notice, hoping to escape the attentions of this vigilante.

What wasn't in the papers, and had cost his factor a tidy sum to find out, was that the magical signature that cast the Dark Mark was known, but no one was in a hurry to interrogate the witch in question since Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black was not only dead, but had been decidedly deranged when her life ended the night of the Dark Lord's defeat.

While there were Dark ceremonies and rituals which would allow one to speak to the dead, the price was always high and none of the Unspeakables in the Ministry thought that there was any way that Voldemort's former mistress had returned as a revenant and began hunting down her former comrades.

Dropping the newspapers and notes back on the desk, Lucius closed his eyes for a moment before releasing the breath he had been holding. Turning around, he made his way back out into the hallway and down to the house's library, to while away the hours before turning in with reading and brandy.

As he entered the library, he turned and sealed the room, as was his usual habit. Not taking anything for granted, even here, Lucius hadn't survived to be an old Death Eater without being conscious of his own safety. Confident that the wards would have alerted him if any witch or wizard had entered the property, all that they had informed him of was some vermin and small mammals criss-crossing the island in their search for survival, he was confident as he retrieved the decanter of brandy and the glass from the sideboard as he made his way to his chair in front of the floo.

And stopped and stared at the silver serving tray sitting on the side table beside the chair.

Staring at the side table, Lucius could see that there was a small pastry of some sort sitting on the silver salver. Much larger than a fairie cake, it appeared to be some sort of chocolate confection covered in a shiny black frosting, sitting on a small china plate. Sitting beside the round cake on the salver were what appeared to be a pair of folded parchment documents, each tied with a black ribbon.

As he stepped a bit to the side, he could see that there was a wooden box on the floor beside the table, with what looked like a barred opening facing the chair. Grasping his hand around the head of his walking stick, he slightly twisted the solid silver serpent's head before remembering that his original wand that had been crafted to work with this cane had been snapped, and the replacement the Ministry had so 'graciously' allowed him was neither a perfect match nor would it work with his old cane.

Removing his replacement wand from the holster that he had sewn into the sleeve of the jacket he was wearing, he was only slightly surprised to feel that the tenuous connection that he had with this inferior wand was missing.

Stepping cautiously forward, he used the useless wand in his right hand to gingerly move the upper of the two packets of parchment on the side table. Seeing that it was addressed to him in a flowing copperplate script that was unfamiliar to him, he concentrated on the packet below it.

The fact that he recognized the hand that had addressed that packet only surprised him slightly less than the fact that he knew without a doubt which document that was, and it was one that should have destroyed itself over thirty years ago. He couldn't imagine what had possessed Dolores Umbridge to circumvent the enchantments he had cast upon it, but the contents of that particular missive would see both of them kissed if it were to make its way into the hands of the Ministry.

That is if he survived long enough to stand trial again.

Not bothering to go check the door to the library since he knew without a doubt that it would be sealed beyond his ability to open without the use of a wand, Lucius Malfoy quickly assessed his options. While the fire in the floo was burning merrily, he found himself caught on the horns of his own paranoia since he had disconnected the floo from the network himself and had taken great pains to ensure that it couldn't be restored without his knowledge.

The only working floo connection on the bloody island was in a crofter's cottage on the remote western edge of the isle, and the structure looked in enough of a state of disrepair that no one in their right mind would suspect that anything functional existed in it.

Calmly resolving to play the hand he was dealt, Lucius was Slytherin enough to know that his only chance would come from allowing this little drama to unfold and find the weakness or weaknesses of the person who had gone to such great lengths to bring about this moment.

Sitting down in the chair, Lucius took a slow sip of the brandy he had poured before taking up the older of the two packets of parchment. Sliding the ribbon from the neatly folded pages, he opened them up and quickly gave them a reading.

The document was complete; it was his letter to that incompetent minion of Fudge's detailing how he had arranged for the 'accidental' death of one of her many enemies. Whatever young Aranrhod Lovegood nee Jones had done to incur the wrath of Umbridge, the woman was most insistent that she pay for her transgression with her life.

While the accident he had arranged by tainting some of the potions materials the Lovegood witch had delivered to her eccentric husband's manor outside Ottery St. Catchpole was a success from the standpoint that the cursory investigation that the Ministry had given the incident concluded that the death of the mudblood was accidental, Umbridge had ranted like a madwoman that the chit's child hadn't been killed in the same accident.

Fully two thirds of the manor was destroyed, leaving only the original tower that one of Lovegood's ancestors had built when he established the family seat there, but that wasn't good enough since an eight year-old slip of a witchling had survived and Umbridge had had the nerve to try to hold him accountable for it.

The letter he held in his hand fully documented the pains he had taken to ensure the death of both witches, but somehow Aranrhod had realized that the potion was about to detonate and had banished her daughter from the workroom to the banks of the River Otter in last moments before her death and made it plain that Umbridge should consider herself well-served that he had consented to perform this small favor for her in return for her ensuring that no one would see the various communications he sent to the Minister, since he didn't trust Fudge's sense of security at all.

Umbridge's notes in the margins damned her as readily as it did him, and Lucius smirked at the thought of the look on the loathsome toad's face once she realized her intent to keep this document as leverage against the House of Malfoy would be her undoing since this crime wasn't covered under those she had been tried and sentenced for following the fall of Voldemort.

Sighing, Lucius returned the letter to the table, recognizing from the telltale scent of the parchment that it had been treated to render it impervious to any method of destruction that he could bring to bear, even if his wand had been functional, and tapped the second letter with the tip of his wand as he thought.

Seeing no way around it, he could delay the inevitable by searching the library and seeing if his unknown foe had slipped up and left him a way out but that would either be a waste of time he might or might not have, or would lead him to an 'escape' that would actually be more dangerous than the situation he currently found himself in.

Taking up the parcel of parchment, he slid the ribbon from the neatly folded pages, placed it on the table beside the other one, and settled back in his chair to read.

As he unfolded the pages, his eyebrows rose involuntarily as he read the salutation.

My Dear Lucius,

I hope you can forgive the presumption of my greeting, but after the lovely hospitality I and my friends experienced at your family home, which in case you weren't aware had been sold off to cover your numerous debts and compensate your former wife for the years she had to endure your company to a muggle developer and the Malfoy estates are now home to over a hundred muggles in some very nice properties, I felt that it was apropos to either greet you as I did or to address this letter 'You egregiously insane wanker'. And since I was hoping to keep this exchange on friendly terms, I decided to address this letter as I did.

I suppose you're wondering why you're sitting in the middle of the library in your not so secret bolt hole in the arse end of the Shetlands drinking brandy and wondering what in Merlin's name was in that wooden box on the floor. I know I would if I were in your shoes, though I would probably have to wear three or four pairs of stockings since your feet are significantly larger than my own, but that's neither here nor there. Actually, it's there since your shoes and your feet are there with you. I hope.

Back to our business at hand. Since I'm certain you looked at the other letter first, you've realized that you're, as the Americans so charmingly put it, 'screwed, blued, and tattooed'. While I won't bore you with all of the theories of the origin of that colourful phrase, let's just say that you're not in a good place just now. Not that there's anything wrong with the Shetlands, mind you.

You really shouldn't have allowed Dolores to talk you into murdering my mother. Honestly, the woman was about a venal as the Minster was and you could have bought her cooperation for a pittance compared to what you were pouring into Cornelius' pockets on a weekly basis. The fact that you agreed to have my mother murdered simply to save yourself the cost of a petty bribe is inexcusable, and brings us to why we're here. Actually you're 'there' and I'm 'here' or vice versa depending upon your point of view.

As you have no doubt noticed, especially since I made certain your factor Mr. Stewart, who is a delightful man except for his penchant for working with utter scumbags, had all the relevant information regarding your six former companions, you're now facing the same choice that the others faced. While their specific circumstances were slightly different, can you believe that Yaxley actually hid in the depths of an abandoned tin mine in Cornwall, they were all given the same chance you'll be given tonight.

You have three choices, and they're very simple. The first is that you can take the two letters in your hand and say the phrase 'Take me to my just rewards'. That will activate the portkey in the parchment and you'll be whisked away to the holding cell of the Head Auror's detachment to await someone coming along to collect you and charge you with conspiring with Umbridge and Dolohov to murder my mother. Oh, and just to let you know that he isn't skipping out on anything, Mr. Dolohov came to a very sticky end when he escaped on the way to trial in London all those years ago. Apparently he hid out in the wrong basement and came to a very painful end when he found himself underground with any means of making a light.

Back to your business, that's your first choice, and I would think that it would be the best of the lot. True, you've got a date with a Dementor at the end of it, but that's relatively painless from what I'm told and if you were to give Harry information on three of your friends, I'm certain he could talk Hermione into sending you through the Veil.

Your second choice involves the pastry in front of you. Since you're a pureblood and have been out of touch for the past few years, I suppose I should explain the concept of a 'cupcake'. It's a fascinating confection that is very popular in the muggle world. Bigger than a fairie cake, as you can see, the muggles make them of all different types of cake and have quite a wide variety of icings for them. While this particular combination does look a bit ominous, the shiny black icing on the extremely dark cake, it's one of my favorites and one I commissioned to have made for each of your friends from a recipe I found in my mother's destroyed potions lab. You remember that lab, the one you had Dolohov blow up in an attempt to curry favor with her Toadiness by murdering my mother and myself? You might have a slight adverse physical reaction to the icing, but if you eat it all, the doors will unlock in an hour and you'll be free to walk out and you'll never hear from me again, if you're able.

And finally, we have your third choice. I suppose you've been looking suspiciously at that box on the floor, wondering exactly how that a simple wooden box could lead to your fate.

Go ahead; take a look in the box. You probably should be fully informed before you make your decision.

Pausing a second, Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose as the prattling of the letter was threatening to give him a headache. While Potter's whore's childish attempt to unnerve him was patently obvious, he needed to know all of the particulars before deciding how he could use this situation to his advantage.

Seeing no positives coming from ending up in a Ministry Holding cell, especially since Harry Bloody Potter was the Chief Auror and his other whore was the Minister, and he was unsure enough that his immunities to most common poisons would still be intact after so many years of confinement, he needed to know what his third option entailed.

Carefully placing the letter on the side table, and making certain that it wasn't touching the incriminating letter to ensure that he didn't accidently activate the portkey, he knelt in front of the chair and bent over to look between the wooden slats of the box. And stared in disbelief.

Inside the box was a pure white rabbit with slightly pink eyes. Taking his wand and sticking it between the slats, he poked the animal and smirked when he saw it start in fright and move away from his wand.

Using the wand to explore the interior of the box and to move the rabbit around to ensure that it was, indeed, a rabbit, Lucius slowly smirked as he resumed his seat.

Taking the letter back up, he scanned the page and found where he had left off. Shaking off the vague feeling of ill ease at the resumption of the text when he turned the page, he continued.

All settled back in and comfortable? Good.

Within the box in front of you is the Dreaded Lagomorph of Caerbannog, the vicious guardian of the Cave of Caerbannog. I was able to persuade him to assist me tonight; as he has in the previous meetings I had with your fellows, to be your third option. You can simply state aloud "I will face the Lagomorph" and the box will open and it'll be up to you to try to survive your encounter. As with the cupcake, after an hour the library door will unlock and you'll be free to leave, if you can.

There you have it; your fate is totally in your hands. In the interest of fairness and justice, I've given you all the information you need to make the proper decision. Candidly speaking, I would like for you to take option one, so it could be publicly established that my mother didn't make a mistake and her death wasn't caused by her own carelessness, but this is a decision you'll really have to make for yourself.

Unless you're planning on taking choice number one, we probably won't have a chance to speak, so I hope you won't take it amiss if I tell you that I hope you rot in hell for a very long time for the things you've done with your life. How's it feel to not only bet on the wrong horse, but to find out the horse you were betting on was the gelding spawn of a muggle and a squib. We're talking about Tom Riddle or Voldemort here, just in case you got a little lost there.

Anyway, choose wisely.

Yours,

Luna Aranrhod Black, nee Lovegood, OMFC, Lady Black, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Harry Potter's favorite spades partner (don't tell Hermione, she's a bit touchy about that last one)

Letting the parchment fall into his lap, Lucius closed his eyes and let the facts that he knew and those he surmised flow through his mind.

Obviously the letter contained both information and disinformation. The reasons for doing this rang true, if he ever saw Umbridge again, he feel compelled to admit she was right, and he should have tied off this loose in that December when he had the chit in his control. The fact that Potter was close to the girl had led him to keep her alive in case she became useful was now haunting him.

Obviously the first choice was the 'Bridge of Gems', the path to destruction that was designed to look less painful than the others. Setting that one aside, he had no illusions about his ability to wriggle out of one more trial, especially without money or influential friends.

The second was probably the one the little slag wanted him to choose, the reference to her mother's potions lab told the tale. While being a mudblood, Aranrhod Lovegood was the most talented Potions Mistress in the past century. Her abilities put Severus to shame and she had created some very unique concoctions before her demise, including some poisons for exterminating magical threats that were resistant to spells.

Option two would lead to a most painful and prolonged demise. If he were doing it, he would ensure that the poison would take longer than an hour to manifest, allowing him to have the illusion of survival before striking him down.

His thoughts kept circling back to the rabbit in the box. While he was certain it was more than it appeared to be, it appeared to be the option that was afforded him the best chance of survival. Taking the half-blood at her word, and the one thing about Potter's whores, while ruthless they were scrupulously honest, he didn't have to defeat the beast, simply survive it. Once the door opened, his wand would be functional and he would have access to the items he had hidden in the rest of the house.

Looking around the room, his eyes widened as he could see that his father's dueling sword was sill in its place of honor over the desk. Moving over to the desk, he cautiously took the weapon down and inspected it. Seeing that the runes that would prevent any not of the family Malfoy from tampering with the blade, he cautiously drew the weapon and was heartened to see that it's comforting blue glow emerged as the long sword was pulled from its scabbard.

Taking a few practice swings, Lucius felt the charms built into the blade of Damascus steel. Charms that would lighten the blade, make it faster and sharper, and add to the skill of the wielder as long as the wielder was a Malfoy were all intact.

Moving across the room so that he was standing in the middle of the open space, almost ten feet from the box, Lucius adopted a dueling stance after returning his now useless wand to its resting place. Looking around the room once more to make certain there wasn't anything he was missing or overlooking, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

Knowing that there was something that would make this a challenge, Lucius allowed a cold smile to appear. This was how a Malfoy approached challenges, with spell and steel.

Looking directly at the box, he could see the rabbit cowering in the box, shivering. Feeling a tad foolish, he took a deep breath, and with the utmost confidence in his voice declared, "I will face the Lagomorph!"

As the words rang through the air of the library, the wooden box literally disappeared. The rabbit was sitting on the library floor, and it took a tentative hop away from Lucius.

Feeling ridiculous, Lucius quickly scanned the room before returning his attention to the white rabbit. He was a bit surprised that the rabbit was now facing him, and the eyes were glowing with an ominous red cast.

Just as he was about to take a step towards the rabbit, the animal disappeared with a faint 'pop'.

Hearing an answering pop from behind him, Lucius whirled around and came to an en garde stance as he saw the rabbit was now between him and the door. Moving his sword to keep it between him and the rabbit, he started to step to the side when the damned rabbit disappeared again.

Hearing the telltale 'pop' from behind him, he whirled in place in time to see the rabbit sitting on the back of the chair where Lucius had read the letter. Before Lucius could react, the rabbit launched itself at him; uttering a vicious scream that was very unnerving and the damned rabbit sailed under his guard and attached itself to his throat.

The last thing that crossed Lucius' mind before his head hit the ground was that he probably should have taken the cupcake.

24 December, 2022 9:30 p.m. gmt – the lower kitchen Potter Hall

Luna Black skipped into the kitchen on Christmas Eve whistling merrily. Seeing that Kreacher was overseeing the preparations for the late night snacks, including the platter of biscuits and mug of cocoa for Father Christmas, Luna waited until he was finished before interrupting him.

As she approached, Kreacher sketched a shallow bow and smiled toothily at his favorite witch.

"Mistress Luna, how may I be of assistance tonight? "

Reaching into the pocket of the jumper she was wearing, Luna retrieved a small black egg shaped object and handed it to the elf.

"Just a bit of housekeeping, Kreacher. Please take this to Vermentry Isle, along with this letter, and set it off, after unlocking the front door to the manor house. Wouldn't want the responding aurors to injure themselves on Christmas Eve forcing the door. Bad enough they'll have to call in a four day old corpse." Smiling mischievously, she tapped the parchment.

"Be certain you swap this for the letter from me to Lucius, it'll give enough information to lead the authorities to Umbridge without upsetting them with unnecessary details."

Chuckling, Kreacher carefully took the device and letter from his mistress. Developed during the first war before she had gone completely insane, Bellatrix Lestrange had created a cache of these devices to enhance her own reputation. When the egg was smashed against the ground, it would release the spell contained within and the Dark Mark would appear.

The fear spread by the fact that, apparently, Bellatrix could be involved in murders hundreds of miles apart within minutes of each other helped to paralyze her Lord's enemies. Having found a couple of boxes of the devices when she cleaned out the Lestrange vaults after the war, Luna had kept them knowing she would be able to put them to a good use, eventually.

"It's a pity I have to waste a cupcake each time," Luna commented in an off-hand manner while she watched the house elf carefully. Seeing Kreacher reach into the sealed pastry keeper on the counter, she smiled radiantly as he pulled out a cupcake, identical to the one she had placed far to the north.

"Mistress knows that Kreacher always makes a second of your mother's special recipe cupcakes for you," the elf chuckled as Luna greedily grabbed the pastry and took a long lick of the shiny black icing.

"Oooh. Licorice." Smiling radiantly, Luna bent over and placed a tender kiss on the elf's forehead. "Mum always made these when I wasn't feeling well, I was so happy to find the recipe for the icing when we finally got around to rebuilding Lovegood Manor." Eyes twinkling in glee, she took a big bite of the cupcake and chewed it slowly.

Swallowing, she didn't' miss a beat as Kreacher handed her a brimming glass of milk that appeared out of thin air. Taking a deep drink of the milk, she smiled with her milk mustache as a resounding burp echoed around the kitchen.

"Blasted licorice icing always makes on burp like that. I warned Lucius about the side effect, he was always so proper I didn't want him to be embarrassed if he was with anyone afterwards."

Smiling innocently as Kreacher laughed, she finished her cupcake, content that all was right with the world. Especially when the aurors would find the original letter from him to Umbridge along with Lucius' body.

"We'll need more licorice, Mistress," Kreacher commented as he prepared to do his mistress' bidding. "If I remember your notes, the Carrows are due to be released next September."

"Oh goody," Luna commented as she licked the icing from her fingers. "I was wondering what I was going to get Hermione for her birthday this year."

A/N 2 – Along with the initial disclaimers, I would like to acknowledge the folks that brought us Monty Python for the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog. I'll admit I upgraded him a bit, but the special effects are so much better today than they were when Holy Grail was made, that I couldn't resist. And no one is going to let Lucius get his hands on the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, thought the thought of coating it with superglue to allow him to get to five is entertaining.

For those who were wondering, 20 December was the anniversary of Luna being taken from the Hogwarts Express by Lucius' minions according to the timeline at HP Lexicon. Seemed like an apropos night for Luna to reach out and thank him for his hospitality.

For those of you who are disturbed by this slightly darker than normal Luna, she did give them a chance. However, remembering the instructions in the Book of Armaments, since Lucius was indeed 'naughty' in anyone's sight, he snuffed it. And 5 is still 'right out'. – apAidan